 
Nature and Blight

By Matt Rogers

Copyright 2013 Matt Rogers

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Chapter 1: A Midgling Mission

The Siege (Castle Nirvana)

Nelson and Wort were not the most intimidating pair for they were only three feet tall, two feet wide and built for other things. They were, however, all the Queen could afford. They knelt in her presence as was the custom.

"Your Majesty."

"Please rise."

They stood to their full height and squared their shoulders for she was their sovereign, they her subjects and the castle under siege.

"I require your help."

"Anything, Your Worshipness."

She was the most beautiful, a delight to the eye and fresh air to the lungs.

"I need you to bring a message to Father Time."

The two looked at Mother Nature as if she'd asked them to commit suicide. Which was possible, by the way, for they were anything but messenger material.

"Us?"

"Yes."

They were rather surprised because normally they were used for other purposes. Both were of the generalized labor class. They held no particular traits which would come in useful during times of war but were handy around the castle for they held a quality the Queen found admirable; they were steadfast in purpose when given a chore.

"Um, are you sure you want us to do it, Ma'am? I'm sure there are others who might be a little, uh..." Stu began.

"Capabler!" Wort finished.

"Capabler?"

"Yes, Your Majestic One, it means more capable."

Mother Nature decided not to correct him on his definitional abilities. She looked down on her two servants with a smile for they truly were her favorites. She wished she had others available but all were needed in defense of the realm. The two before her were the only she could trust to give it their all against incredible odds.

"I am sorry but I've made up my mind and decided you are the perfect subjects for the job. It will be dangerous and you may not live through the experience..." she started but didn't finish for at the mention of danger the two fainted on the spot.

The kingdom of Nirvana was under siege by Prince Blight, the son of King Rot. King Rot held sway over Pestilence and had designs on Mother Nature's realm. Blight had moved under the cover of darkness and surrounded Castle Nirvana, cutting off all avenues of escape. Mother Nature's forces held the castle for they were of sound character and experienced warriors. The two armies were at a draw and she wished to alter the game. The Midglings were her best hope.

"Stu?"

"Yes, Wort?"

"Are you taking your brown or green tunic?"

Both were in chambers preparing for their adventure after the Queen's servants woke them through use of cold water poured from wooden buckets.

"I was actually wondering that myself. I keep leaning toward the brown but then get worried about foliage."

"Uh-huh, me too. What if we run into a bunch of green plants and we're wearing our browns?"

"Yep, that would probably be a bad idea."

They dwelt on the subject for a protracted period of time before they mutually agreed on a solution, packed their remaining supplies in various pockets and ran down the stairwell to greet the Queen and receive her message for Father Time. Again, they knelt in her presence.

"Your Majesty."

"Please rise."

They stood to their regal height but had trouble squaring their shoulders for they were sweating profusely and a little light-headed from the exertion.

"Are you two all right?"

"Yes, Your Perfectness, just a little hot."

She looked closer at her two trusted servants and became aware of something slightly different with their width.

"Why are you two bundled up?"

"Well, Your Gracefulness, we were having a little trouble deciding on the proper attire for our trip so we talked it over and came to the conclusion we should take both colors."

The Queen glanced around but did not see what she expected.

"Are you wearing both outfits?"

"Yes, Your Loveliness, we decided we'd go with the brown underneath and the green overtop. We figured if we run into some brown on the way we could switch the two and keep on moving" Stu said with obvious pride at their reasoning abilities.

"Where are your backpacks?"

Both looked at the other with quizzical expressions.

"Backpacks?"

"Yes, backpacks. The ones in your closet."

Both again looked at the other for it did seem a rather logical solution to their dilemma.

"Um... Ma'am?"

"Yes, Wort?"

"May we be excused for about five minutes?"

She nodded her assent and the two raced back up the stairs to remove the layers of clothing and stood there for a second in consternation.

"Okay, we've got the same problem as before."

"Uh-huh."

"So, which one?"

"I'm thinking green."

"I'm thinking brown."

They were in a quandary for they had no idea which color scheme was better for message-delivery. They might've stood there all day if Stu hadn't received and epiphany.

"Let's do both! Green on top, brown on bottom."

So they adorned their clothes in the manner they felt would give them the greatest possibility of success, raced down the stairs, knelt and rose to their full heights with confidence in their hearts they had chosen the proper wear.

"Where are your backpacks?"

And raced back up the stairs to retrieve what they'd forgotten, turned around and raced decidedly slower downward for they were not made of stair-racing stock.

"Please rise."

"Huff-puff!"

"Wheeze!"

Those of importance were in attendance for their survival was at stake. General Shield stood at attention to Mother Nature's left while her trusted adviser, Councilor Clearview, was to her right.

"Are you sure about this, My Queen?" the General asked as the two before him gasped in great gulps of air to counteract stair-climbing exhaustion.

"Yes, General, we have no one else to spare. Besides, I have always believed in the power of loyalty and these two before us are more loyal than most."

The General nodded his head for he did not doubt the loyalty of the two, only their competence. The General was the best of her men and had proven his own merit many times over. He had risen through the ranks and was respected by the men for doing so. He was honest, hardworking and stern, but also forgiving of those who tried their best. The two in front of him, however, were testing his forgiveness ability for they were bent over at the waist with tears in their eyes attempting to catch their breaths before they were sent off to save the kingdom.

"Councilor?"

"Yes, My Queen?"

"Do you have the note and amulets?"

He indicated he did and produced the items from his robe. Councilor Clearview was a valued member of Mother Nature's inner circle. He was intelligent, wise, shrewd in the ways of the world and she'd relied on his advice ever since taking reign of Nirvana.

"Have you two recovered yet?"

"Gasp!"

"Snort!"

She allowed them time for their lungs to acclimate. After indicating they could concentrate on her words she chose them carefully because she did not want a repeat of the fainting variety.

"Okay, I want you to give this message to Father Time. I am also giving you amulets which will provide you passage through areas under my control."

She handed Stu the rolled-up parchment and placed one amulet each around the necks of the two who beamed with pride because they'd never been given amulets and felt they were receiving medals.

"Okay, General, please describe your plan for our two messengers."

The General walked over to a table, peered down at a map and began describing his desire.

"Yes, My Queen. Okay, to get you outside the castle is not going to be hard, it's getting you through the enemy's forces which is the tough part. Prince Blight has stationed his larger brutes towards the front of the enforcement with his smaller, more agile creatures to the rear. So what we're going to do is create a raiding party and exit at dusk. Once you clear the line of Ogres you will need..."

"Uh, General?"

"Yes, Councilor?"

"You may wish to skip any mention of specific creatures."

"Huh? Why?"

"Because it appears you've lost your audience."

The General glanced up from his map and saw the two servants flat on their faces, unconsciousness from the mention of the word Ogres.
Chapter 2: A Reluctant Warrior

The Siege (Blights' Encampment)

Prince Blight, as always, was in a bad mood. It wasn't his fault for he was born with an improper disposition and the company he kept were not known for their cheery demeanors.

"Sergeant Savage!" he yelled from his tent which was acting as the command post while his forces surrounded the castle of Nature.

Savage was a mercenary of renown reputation. He was a Human who fought for the highest bidder. He was wanted by authorities in numerous territories and commanded a force of others who held similar backgrounds. He was an expert with the sword, deadly with a bow and lethal with a dagger. He had an exceptional military mind which was why the Prince placed him in charge of the army. He was also extremely bored.

"Yes, your Highness?" he answered as he entered the tent.

"Are there any changes to report?"

Savage thought of lying because he was a tired of replying with the same answer. He'd already explained to the royal he would advise him the second any alteration to the siege occurred. Since none had, and the Prince would invariably check any rumors of activity, he wisely chose to tell the truth.

"No, Your Highness, the siege remains at a standstill."

The Prince had never been a patient individual for it was, alongside a sour personality, one of the traits he acquired from his father.

"I want something done right now!"

Savage was in a quandary because, surprisingly, he was an honorable man when purchased. It had made him the most sought-after hired-hand in the realm and his employment opportunities were many-fold because his reputation of loyalty through coin was of legendary status. The problem he faced was the obstacles in his path.

"Your Highness, we've already attempted bombardment and scaling of the walls, both to disastrous results. I believe if we wish to retain a full complement of fighting forces we should wait for the siege to take its full effect."

The siege was relatively simple in design; surround Castle Nirvana and block any supplies from entering or exiting. The difficulties arose from those they were attempting to isolate. Mother Nature, as her name implied, held the power of growth in her hands. Supplies were not exactly a problem for someone who could reap a bountiful harvest of fruits and vegetables inside the castle's walls on every dining occasion. The soldiers in her army brought along their own unique set of obstacles because they were the elite of the realm. At any time they could easily break through the siege but they didn't because, while the warriors under the command of General Shield were vastly more efficient than those of the Prince, they were incredibly outnumbered. If they chose to fight near the walls they'd be overcome through sheer force of numbers but if they chose to fight their way through the surrounding force they'd be giving up the one thing Mother Nature relied upon to wield power; Castle Nirvana.

"I do not care! The siege is taking too long and I want something done right now!"

Savage knew he'd need to quell the Prince's temper because not doing so might cost his head. The Prince held the power of sadness and depression, a strong gift to hold. The Sergeant felt its might in the abstract one time. He was in the vicinity of an Orc who'd displeased Blight. Orcs were not exactly emotional creatures for their intellect was rather limited but they could feel despair. When the Prince was through with the creature Savage was amazed to witness the four-hundred pound walking, tusked, pig-faced creature wandering around aimlessly pondering the very meaning of its existence. It was not a feeling he wished to experience.

"I will get right on it, Your Highness."

Savage bowed, turned and pulled back the tent flap to exit. When he stepped outside he ran into one of the most loathsome creatures he could ever remember encountering.

"Ahh, Savage, did the Prince finally come to his senses and rid himself of your horrendous stench."

The Troll who stood before him was seven feet in height, greenish in hue and hideous in appearance. It went by the name of Toodrake but, behind its back, everyone called him Toad. Trolls were the middlemen in Prince Blight's army for they held a few attributes which allowed them to do so. They were infinitely cruel which appealed to the Ogres and Orcs while maintaining the ability to communicate which came in handy to the mercenaries; Humans and Elvin. Ogres and Orcs were frustrating to those with higher intellect because they could grasp only fundamental concepts. Trolls could speak the guttural language of their larger brethren and were, thus, the ones who passed along orders from those in the rear to those in front.

"Hello, Toad" Savage replied.

The remark did not go unnoticed. In the Troll's hand an axe was raised as if to strike down the Sergeant with one swing.

"I will take your head for that insult!" it hissed.

The Sergeant was not impressed.

"Well, you could try but if you make one more movement with that log-splitter you hold, Deadaim is going to put an arrow through your thick skull."

The Troll instantly froze because, at the same time Savage spoke, the unmistakable sound of a longbow's string, pulling taut, could be heard.

"Hello, Toad" Deadaim said from twenty feet behind the creature.

Deadaim was one of Savage's mercenaries and his reputation as one of the greatest archers in the realm came to the mind of the Troll Toodrake. Trolls did indeed have thick skulls which was one of the reasons they were such difficult adversaries but Toodrake also knew his own limitations. He could probably take a glancing blow from an arrow and survive but even his hard head would be pierced if It was shot straight and true from twenty feet away. Trolls were the middlemen because they had, at least, a semblance of intelligence and Toodrake was the Commander of Trolls in the Prince's army which meant he had a bit more deductive powers than his peers. He did the calculation and came to a conclusion.

"We will meet again, Savage" he sneered as he lowered his axe and walked away.

Savage and Deadaim had worked together so long they no longer felt the need to communicate. They did so because not talking was awkward and they were both cordial men.

"Okay, Sergeant, you might want to quit calling him Toad."

"Why? He is a toad."

"True, but he's also seven feet tall and carries a battle axe in one hand."

"So?"

"It's a battle axe, Sergeant, not a spoon."

"I know that. But I also knew you were right behind him."

"True again. But it is possible for me to miss."

Savage didn't think so. In the years he'd known Deadaim he'd never seen the man's aim waver. It didn't matter if it was in the heat of battle or a friendly wager; his arrow always hit the mark.

"All right, fine, I'll quit calling him Toad to his face."

Deadaim didn't believe Savage for one second. In all the time he'd known his Sergeant he'd never seen him shy away from a challenge. The fact he'd won every challenge he'd ever faced probably reinforced his decision process but to Deadaim it didn't really matter. Savage was his friend and if he wanted to pick a fight with a Dragon he would be at his side.

"So, what did the Prince want?"

"He wants to start hostilities."

"Seriously? Doesn't he know what a different kind of siege this is?"

The siege Deadaim talked about was one of boredom. They couldn't starve Mother Nature out and couldn't breach Castle Nirvana's walls so they were employing a technique which, though time consuming, was also highly successful; bore the defenders out. Make life so unbearingly dull they would risk a conflict if only to give themselves a reprieve from the tediousness of castle-life under siege.

"I don't think he cares. I think he just wants to end this siege and if it means losing half his force I believe he's willing to consider it."

Deadaim pondered what Savage said.

"Um, so why are we here again?"

Savage pondered what Deadaim said.

"Well, I guess, technically, we don't need to remain any longer. He hired us for a month and its past the allotted time but he offered a handsome reward if we ended the siege. So I guess the reason we're here is because this is where the money is."

Deadaim thought it over for a second.

"All right, good enough for me. So, what do we do next?"

"I'm thinking shot-put."
Chapter 3: Rock Toss

The Siege (Castle Nirvana)

The catwalk atop Castle Nirvana was manned by the elite archers of the realm and guarded accordingly. Outside the walls the forces of Blight were under constant threat of attack by those who stood upon the ramparts. It would've been a complete route by the defenders if not for one small detail; the opposing army contained more creatures than they had arrowheads. So many more, if the archers let loose and dealt a killing blow with every shaft they would still face ten to one odds when the hand-to-hand fighting took place. It was that knowledge which held their bows in check.

"Hawkeye!"

"Yes, General Shield?"

Hawkeye Birdsview was a scout in normal times. He could track any animal or creature through terrain others would be blind in. He was an Original Inhabitant of Nirvana and held a deep hatred for those who would attempt to mess with Mother Nature. He turned from his observation-post atop the castle wall as the General scaled the ladder to greet him.

"How goes everything?"

Hawkeye thought long and hard over the question for it contained many intriguing variables. The siege had lasted well over a month and while the invaders could not advance their cause neither could the defenders. They did not have the resources necessary to deal a devastating blow to the forces of Blight.

"Surprisingly well, General, for I believe the enemy is about to attempt something wholeheartedly foolish."

The General looked at the scout with interest. He'd used Hawkeye on many occasions and found the man to be of sturdy character and amazingly effective with bow. The Originals prided themselves on their ability to fire straight and with such rapid velocity the sky was known to turn dark as the shafts of arrows rained down upon those who would seek to claim Original land as their own. The fact they had not been challenged in such a long time attested to the truthfulness of the stories for even Prince Blight had opted to bypass Original Territory as he began his quest to end Mother Nature's reign.

"Why do you think they're going to attempt something?"

"Because, General, every time someone issues an order on their side the crowd gets in such a snit of insult they give it away by fighting amongst themselves before they ever got around to fighting us."

General Shield moved to where Hawkeye stood and looked out over the crowd of creatures. Every time he did so he worried if his forces could last long enough for help to arrive. What he saw was both discouraging and encouraging. The army of Blight completely ringed the fortress. In front, nearest the castle's walls were Ogres; mindless brutes who were only happy when bashing things. It didn't matter what the things were for they were too ignorant to care. Unfortunately, they were also ten feet in height and eight hundred pounds of bone-shattering muscle. They carried only clubs for they held neither the intelligence nor the patience to learn the ways of higher warfare. Again, it didn't matter because to get struck by an Ogre, whether by club or without, was instantaneous death.

The second ring of attackers were Orcs. They were smarter than their Ogre neighbors and could manage a spear. They stood over eight feet tall and generally weighed four to five hundred pounds. They were also sadistically cruel. They were known to torment their victims for the pleasure of dong so and usually attacked in groups for while they could not count to three they could see the benefit of twenty steel-tipped shafts over one alone.

The third ring consisted of Trolls. A little smaller and lighter than Orcs they made up for it with the ability to coordinate attacks. Their higher intelligence allowed them to employ weapons such as battle axes and whips. They were efficient in their use and devious in their implementation. They held no regard for the life of others, were untrustworthy to even their own kind and known to change sides in the middle of battle if it furthered their interests.

The final ring of Blight's forces consisted of two races; Humans and Elvin. Both were paid and found in various stages of loyalty, cunning, trustworthiness and cruelty. They held the exterior and were the commanders of Blights ramshackle army. They trusted no one for they themselves could not be trusted. They were mercenaries; hired to do a job and only the promise of gold held their interest.

The vast numbers of foes was the discouraging part, the makeup of their forces the encouraging. As he allowed his gaze to search further through the hoard he could see what Hawkeye mentioned. It started in the Troll ranks as pushing and shoving led to fist-fighting which led to bloodshed. With the smell of blood the Orcs became interested and began fighting also. It, of course, spread to the Ogres who began bashing with fanatical enthusiasm. Unfortunately, to the General's thinking, it eventually subsided as the brain-numb beasts finally realized they were attacking the wrong creatures. When he saw the carts brought forward he realized what they were about to attempt.

"I wonder if the Ogres remember they tried this before?"

"I don't believe Ogres remember their names, General."

The sequence of events was an exact repeat of what occurred at the onset. At the very beginning of the siege catapults were employed. They were enormous flinging devices which hurled boulders at the castle. They were the preferred method of siege-attempting throughout the various kingdoms. They were also sitting ducks to the advanced warriors the kingdom of Nirvana employed. The problem was distance. The catapults were best when used to hurl large boulders at a structure and in order to do so were placed within range. When they were parked the defenders merely rode out in small groups and burned the things where they stood. They could do so because Blight's creatures were absolutely no match for the Queen's warriors. As long as they had a target which could be reached in a short period of time they would ride through Blight's army like a sword through wastewater. After destroying the catapults they returned to the castle and, again, took up their stations. The only answer to Blight's dilemma proved even more disastrous, not to the wooden scaffoldings but to the creatures he employed to surround the castle. In the carts brought forward were various sizes of large rocks. Not boulders, per se, but stones the size of tabletops and wagon-wheels. The thought was to have many catapults with smaller projectiles perform the function of larger ones. The Ogres became the catapults and the large rocks the boulders. The only problem was sieges had been employed for ages and defenses developed accordingly. On the top of the castle's walls, where the defenders stood at their posts, were fortified overhangs. When a rock was thrown it would bounce off the reinforced roofing above the defenders' heads and land safely in the yard below. It was the creature in the yard below which caused all the mayhem to the Prince's forces.

Goliath was of the race of giants. He stood thirty feet high, ten feet wide and weighed fifteen hundred pounds. His race had been in Nirvana from the beginning. He could crush tree trunks with his bare hands, fight a dragon on land to a standstill and could've easily ruled over all if he had the desire. Fortunately for those who wished power for themselves he and his kind were pacifists by nature. They were vegetarians and openly avoided confrontations. To Blight's dismay, Goliath had deemed an attack on Mother Nature's castle as one he could not avoid. So when the large rocks were thrown by ten-foot Ogres and landed in a dirt courtyard, Goliath strolled out from under the sheltering he used for protection, picked up the stones and returned them to their original owners with, of course, a slightly differing trajectory resulting in a completely different outcome.

"Wow! That had to hurt."

"Yep, he really left a mark."

The mark he was talking about was the Troll goo left behind when a rock weighing two hundred pounds descended on an individual from a height of three hundred feet.

"Nice shot, Goliath!"

Goliath indicated he heard the compliment with a look of eye and nod of head but, the truth was, he loathed performing the deed. Giants were of a different breed. They were few in number and spent most of their lives in quiet contemplation. They were successful in their endeavors because they had no individual enemies, only groups of enemies. To attack a Giant alone was suicide. Their skin was so toughened most swords would break upon impact. Speed had been employed in a futile attempt to find their weakness. However, those who attempted the tactic of rapid assault with retreat soon found themselves dodging both rock and foot as the behemoth on land fought back. In fact, the only real enemies Giants had were Ogres. Ogres were just wise enough to know they stood no chance against a Giant alone but there were times when they found themselves in superior numbers. It was then Giants' lives were at stake for even one so large as Goliath could be bested by a score of Ogres, especially if they wielded clubs.

"Hey, Goliath!"

"Yes, General?" his baritone voice boomed back.

"Can you toss one a little bit further to the left next time?"

"Yes."

The result of which found the Prince's army ten Orcs fewer. As before, the defenders of the castle cheered whenever one of Goliath's stones squished an attacker which caused the Ogres to toss even more rocks because, when they heard the cheers, they believed the defenders were rooting them on. It took a command decision at the back of the lines to stop the Orcs from bringing carts to supply Ogres with the means of their own crushing.

"Aw, that's too bad, they're stopping the assault."

"Yeah, but they really did a good job on themselves."

The loss of Ogre, Orc and Troll life was of no significance to Prince Blight because they were easily replaced. The creatures were born to cause mayhem and since war was destruction they willingly took the places of their fallen brethren for the chance to crush, kill and maim.

"All right, I think we've got ourselves a lull in the fighting, I need you to do something for me, Hawkeye."

"Sure, General, what is it?"

"Sneak behind enemy lines and discover the location of their command post."
Chapter 4: Two Become Three

The Siege (Blight's Encampment)

Savage and Deadaim were making their way to the forward observation post, not to view the carnage they'd wrought but to speak with another of their kind; the mercenary barbarian, Brutus.

"Hey, Brutus, how's it going?"

The blond man was, if not the largest, definitely in the competition for biggest Human alive. His arms rippled with muscles, his chest broad as a bear and the scars he wore attested to survival skills.

"Hey, Sergeant. I'm pretty good but the front lines have seen better days."

Savage glanced to where Brutus indicated and shuddered at the sight. The front lines in Prince Blight's army were, at the same time, both hurling rocks and getting splattered by them. Everything was chaos and the Sergeant, while not exactly a fan of the monstrous army, wasn't pleased he was ordered to do something he knew would result in so much carnage.

"Yeah, pretty much a rout, I'd say" Savage remarked.

"Looks like a bug-smashing competition" Deadaim deadpanned.

Savage couldn't argue because it did resemble a cockroach stomping contest.

"How long are you going to keep this up?" the barbarian asked.

Savage thought it over for a second.

"Long enough for the Prince to feel we tried to penetrate their defenses. How many have we lost so far?"

Brutus looked down to the ground where he'd been making a tally of the losses using a stick to scratch lines every time one of the Prince's soldier's was felled by falling rubble.

"It appears Goliath is getting better with his aim. We've got ten Ogres down, seventeen Orcs and I think four Trolls. But I can't be positive about their number."

"Why not?"

"Because they look squishy when standing upright. For all I know the mangled mess of Troll-waste are actually nap-takers."

Savage decided the number of losses was acceptable.

"Deadaim, head on back and inform the Trolls to tell the Orcs to stop supplying the Ogres with rocks."

Deadaim nodded his head and left.

Savage sat down with the barbarian, took out some dried meat and passed it over to the hulk of a warrior.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

They sat in silence eating their venison, comfortable in the knowledge they were safe in the other's company, proving time really was the great healer because when they'd first met it had been at swords' lengths.

They'd been in the employ of differing monarchs in the territories known as the Wild Lands; an area with borders constantly updated after one ruler defeated another in battle. As was normally the case when a ruler found a gifted warrior they kept the soldier close at hand. In the cases of Savage and Brutus they found themselves as bodyguards for two princes vying to kill the other. The princes were both born from the same father who, in his infinite wisdom, forgot to assign an heir. The two went to war, found themselves facing off on the battlefield which, of course, led Savage and Brutus to pull their swords and begin dancing to Death's tune. In both cases, the princes' and the mercenaries', no one held the upper hand. The fighting lasted for hours and should 've ended in a draw but the hatred of the royals was such they kept going long past the time their bodies could cope. The end to the princes' reign came quickly and suddenly with both killing the other by thrusting swords through defenses no longer capable of thwarting attack. It left Savage and Brutus in a state of sudden flux for neither was enrolled in an army; they were hired hands employed to do a job then move on to fight for different lieges who also felt they had what it took to lord over all. The question had been broached first by Savage.

"You want to stop this nonsense?"

"Yep, my feet are killing me."

So the two left the battlefield and a friendship formed.

"How was your prince?"

"An imbecile. What about yours?"

"A moron."

They wandered far and wide, signing on and off with various kings, barons, princes and dukes according to who was likelier to win. The decision of choosing probable victor over gold had two positive effects. First, it kept them alive. Second, since they were always on the winning side their reputations grew to the point where they themselves dictated outcomes. As they won they caught the eye of other mercenaries who also liked the idea of winning. After a while the competing rulers on the opposing sides were bidding against each other for their services. It was no longer decided according to possible victor, it came down to money. Whichever side Savage and Brutus joined would immediately become besieged with other mercenaries willing to throw their hat in the ring because earning pay was slightly more enjoyable if one had the knowledge they'd be able to spend their wages after the fighting was over.

For a while they controlled a mercenary army of their own. It was large, effective and a troublesome venture to say the least. Mercenaries were, by nature, a combative breed of individuals. While in conquest they could be counted on to do their jobs and follow orders admirably. When the fighting halted was when the trouble began. Insults turned to duels and both Savage and Brutus found themselves acting as judge and jury so many times they gave up the idea of leading many. They went back to acting as a pair, siding with one ruler over another and waiting as everyone wised up and joined their side instead of the other. They were the difference makers; the ones needed to prove a ruler's might. They probably would've kept at their dual partnership if not for one small, seemingly insignificant struggle which arose during a strange campaign.

It was the first time they'd signed on to fight for Prince Blight. They didn't particularly like the royal for his reputation of ravishing the countryside was common knowledge but he held the coin and the upper hand so they did what intelligent mercenaries did and took his gold. They went to war and devastated the upstart Baron's army who dared to challenge the power of Blight. As they were taking the Baron's castle a lone figure was seen escaping by horse and the Prince's attention was drawn.

"Kill him and I will reward you handsomely."

Savage and Brutus took off with ten men in tow. They raced across the desert and finally trapped him atop a sand dune. They were below him, huddled behind a small outcrop of boulders when the situation took a sudden turn.

"Okay, we've got him trapped."

"Yep."

"Someone should poke their head out to see exactly where he is."

"Yep."

"You want to do it?"

"Nope."

The twelve men, all mercenaries of many years had not become so by poking their heads out where danger resided so they drew straws and the loser given the opportunity.

"Okay, I see..."

Thunk!

He never finished because he sported a wooden shaft through his right eye where an arrow penetrated.

"Okay, I guess we need to draw straws a second time."

"Yep."

The loser, once again, chanced a peek.

Thunk!

And came away with a wooden shaft embedded in his left eye-socket.

"All right, peeking seems to be a bad option. Anybody got another idea?"

They decided a full out attack would be the surest way to kill a lone archer sitting on a sand dune in the middle of the desert so they split into two groups, Savage lead four and Brutus did the same.

"On three! One... Two... Three!"

They exploded out from behind the boulder, ten men with over a hundred years of military campaigning under their belt. It should've been an easy victory. Surely a lone man with bow could not penetrate the defenses of mercenaries who'd won so many battles they no longer cared to keep count?

"Oh my God!"

"Holy...!"

They were again huddled behind the boulders minus four who had been there before.

"How can anyone shoot like that?"

"Did he miss? Seriously, did he miss a single time?"

They were down to six and the situation became increasingly hazardous. They needed a plan, one which would provide them the chance to earn the Prince's reward.

"Okay, what if one of us goes out there and runs around till he wastes his arrows? When he's depleted his ammunition the others can walk up and take his head."

Everyone agreed it was a risky but solid plan of attack.

"All right. Any volunteers?"

When nary a hand was raised the straws came out.

"I'm not so sure this is a good idea."

"You thought it was before you lost."

The man agreed it was so, bundled himself in the extra armor of the two comrades who had done deadly peeking service and sprinted out from behind the boulders to draw the archer's eye.

"You've got to be kidding me!"

"Two steps? He only made two steps?"

They were down to five and running out of ideas. Savage looked around and saw a possible solution.

"Look, we've got three bodies within reach. What if three of us pick them up, hold them as shields and move forward as the two behind use their bows to pin that guy down?"

The plan held promise because even an archer of infinite talent was restrained by the tools he employed. An arrow could, indeed, penetrate through a body but it could not also penetrate leather armor worn by one holding the body in front of him. They all agreed it was a gruesome idea but one filled with promise.

"Okay, who wants a body?"

When no hand was raised the straws were again drawn, finding Savage and Brutus waiting with baited breath as the last three mercenaries picked up three former colleagues and held them in front as they moved toward the archer on the hill.

"I cannot believe they keep falling for the straw trick."

"They do seem to be rather gullible."

The straws were, of course, altered so Savage and Brutus knew which ones were longer.

They waited for a while as the men advanced. When both felt the time was right and the archer occupied, they raised their bows, notched their arrows and stood to fire over the boulders. They rapidly ducked back down.

"Did I just see that?"

"Did you see him shoot three arrows straight up and then put three more in every body-shield?"

"Yep."

"Then you saw what I saw and I think we have a problem."

They decided against straw-drawing since both knew it to be rigged, could not come up with a better solution and settled on rolling the dice with both glancing at the same time.

"You ready?"

"Not really."

"All right, on three. One... Two... Three!"

They both looked over the boulders and returned as quickly as they could.

"Okay, this guy in wickedly good."

What they had seen was two-fold; one negative, one positive.

The negative reinforced their opinion the man with bow was something altogether unique. When they spied over the rocks they saw their former mercenaries, all of them, laying on the ground sporting arrows. What the archer had done should not have been possible. Both Savage and Brutus were experts themselves but what the other had achieved neither could believe. When he unleashed three arrows skyward he'd sent them on a preplanned trajectory, then proceeded to pelt the advancing men with more shafts. The men held their body-shields in front because to drop them meant death by piercing flint. As they withstood the bombardment all somewhat forgot the three previously unleashed projectiles, thus ending dead; their necks impaled by arrows descending from the above.

The positive, itself, held both good and bad aspects.

"He's only got one arrow left."

"Yep."

What they had seen with their eyes were ten dead mercenaries who became so by the lone silhouette standing upon a sand dune with one arrow notched and an empty satchel on his back.

"All right, what do we do now?"

"Well, we're not drawing straws, I'll tell you that."

They agreed to let fate dictate the terms and rushed the man at the same time. They both reached the top of the hill for the man never fired, he stood still with bow taut and arrow at the ready.

"Um, I suppose you're not going to surrender?" Savage asked with sword drawn.

"Nope" the man replied.

"Okay then."

As Savage and Brutus stalked both waited for sudden death when the man decided whom he'd like to join in the afterlife. It was evident the man preferred the bow while both mercenaries the sword. It was also apparent after unleashing the arrow he'd be cut down the next instant. It was the resolve to do so which resonated with Savage.

"Okay, hold up. This is stupid. We're mercenaries, the dead guys are mercenaries and I'm assuming you're a mercenary yourself?" he asked.

The man indicated he was by nodding his head.

"All righty then. Why don't we just join forces and make a lot of money together?"

And it was then the trifecta was born. They easily got away with their scheme because the Prince, like most monarchs, had absolutely no idea the identities of the mercenaries employed. The archer traded his garb with a deceased, they trussed the poor soul on the back of a horse and went to claim their reward for killing a fleeing opponent.

"Hey, what's your name?"

His name, of course, was Deadaim and he was at that moment making his way to issues orders telling Trolls to tell Orcs to quit supplying Ogres with the means of their own demise. As he was making his way through the encampment a figure caught his attention.

In every army there were competing interests. The mercenary who entered the tent of Prince Blight was one such individual. His name was Slicer and he led the Elvin forces. No one knew if he took insult at subordination to Savage for the Elvin kept counsel to themselves. As Slicer entered the tent Deadaim moved with stealth and alarming curiosity to listen from outside the cloth structure. What he learned changed the entire game.
Chapter 5: Midgling Stew

The Siege (Castle Nirvana)

They met in the great ballroom to decide on the best way forward.

"What did you learn, Hawkeye?"

"The command tent is at the rear in this grove of trees, General" he responded, pointing to a spot on the map.

Everyone watched as the plan came to life. General Shield would lead the diversion himself and Hawkeye would provide cover with his archers atop the castle walls.

"Stu?"

"Yes Wort?"

"Are you afraid?"

"I think I'm scared out of my mind!"

"Me too!"

The Midglings were from the land down under; the caves below where their race fled when it was discovered they had absolutely no chance to survive in the land above. Most of their kind still resided below but a few, the adventurous ones, sometimes struck out on their own and see what the rest of the creatures were up to. Most were eaten, of course, because the rest of the inhabitants were up to the same thing they'd always been up to; warring and killing which left them bruised and hungry. Stu and Wort survived because they caught Mother Nature's eye. They'd arisen from underground on a gloriously beautiful day and were wandering the forest in rapt amazement when they came across something unexpected.

"What's that?"

"I think it's a house!"

"What's a house?"

"It's a structure some creatures sleep in."

They were curious little beings and decided to go for a closer look.

"What's it made of?"

"Looks like a bunch of twigs and vines and stuff."

The ramshackle shack was, indeed, made of the various materials for its inhabitant was not exactly the crafty kind.

"Do you think anyone lives there?"

"I don't know? Let's find out."

So the two walked up to the door, knocked, waited and were pleasantly surprised when someone answered.

"Hello, we're..."

Then grabbed by their hair, lifted off the ground and tossed in a cage. Both sat in somewhat shocked amazement, unsure of the proper house-greeting manners from those who resided aboveground and a little worried they'd done something wrong.

"Um, excuse me?" Stu asked.

"Ma'am?" Wort inquired.

The resident of the run-down structure paid them little notice for she was busy placing sticks and logs onto a fire which was heating an enormous cauldron. As she was doing so both Midglings began looking around to get a feel for the place. There were bottles of liquids on shelves lining every wall, books in various stages of overuse and a broom sitting in the corner which had obviously not been used for quite some time.

"Do you think she's making an afternoon meal for us?" Wort asked.

"Ooh! That would be nice!"

They watched as the woman with a large nose, unsightly mole and oddly triangular hat kept adding fuel to the flame.

"Um... Stu?"

"Yes, Wort?"

"She hasn't added anything to the bowl."

"You know, I was thinking the same thing."

The two waited a little longer until it became apparent she needed some advice.

"Ma'am, you need to put something in the water" Stu said by way of help.

She finally turned to face them and the two, being who they were, gave their widest of smiles and began introductions.

"Hello, Ma'am, my name is Stu and this is my friend, Wort. Sorry about the way we banged on your door but where we reside it's done to get the attention of the person inside."

Stu couldn't think of anything else to say so turned to his friend.

"Uh-huh, we really are sorry if we broke protocol or something but it's our first time up top and we don't actually know the ways of top-world peoples" Wort added to strengthen their pleas of innocence.

She didn't say anything so they continued on.

"Um, not to tell you how to do your job or anything but it's probably about the right time to add something to that giant bowl you've got there" Stu said.

When she remained quiet Wort piped in.

"Yep, once again, I'm not about to critique your culinary skills but you might want to add some ingredients. You see, boiling water doesn't really get much hotter and as the steam escapes you'll need to add more water which will lower the temperature and cause boil fluctuation" he said while punctuating with a nod.

She began to move towards them and they squared their shoulders, sucked in their bellies and prepared to greet her with Midgling courtesy. She stood in front of the four-foot high cage, unlatched the lock, opened the door slightly and grabbed Wort by his topknot.

"Ouch!"

She pulled him out, re-shut the cage door and re-clamped the lock leaving Stu even more bewildered because where he came from hair-grabbing was considered quite rude.

"Ma'am?" he asked in a shaky voice for he was getting a particularly unpleasant feeling in his gut.

She still held Wort by his hair as she turned her head slightly to look over her shoulder at the Midgling.

"Gulp!"

The leer she gave him, the crooked smile and mischievous gaze made Stu's unpleasant feeling turn higher. He thought she was about to speak when a knock at the front door interrupted things.

"Esmeralda? Are you home? It's me, Gaia Nature" a voice said.

The woman stopped, stood still for a second, turned around, put Wort back in the cage and replaced the lock. When she was done she looked both Midglings directly in their eyes and spoke for the first time.

"Silence."

Both Stu and Wort came to the same conclusion at the exact same time; they did not like the woman's hospitality. As the door opened and the other lady entered they opened their mouths for permission to leave the cage. What came next perplexed them completely for when they shouted nothing was heard.

"Hello, Esmeralda, I've brought you a basket of fruits and vegetables. I know how difficult it is to find food in this forest" the woman with blonde hair said.

The Midglings looked at each other in confusion because both were trying to be heard but they'd lost their voices.

The woman named Esmeralda smiled at the beautiful visitor and indicated with a bobbing head the gratitude she felt.

"No need to thank me. But please take my advice and move your cottage closer to the castle. We have plenty of stores and you wouldn't need to wander the woods to find your daily bread."

The black haired woman said nothing but her frown revealed she didn't like the idea.

By then the Midglings were becoming anxious. They didn't know what rule of visitation they'd broken for they truly were social beings. However, they felt getting locked in a cage and forced to watch someone with little to no cooking ability perform a chore in such an illogical manner was not the appropriate response. Also, they were really worried about their lack of communication skills.

"Okay, I understand this is your home and I won't keep badgering but I'd like you to think about it, all right?" the woman named Gaia asked.

The other one, the ugly one, the one who knew not about boiling water again nodded her head to indicate she would consider it.

About that time Stu became very concerned because it appeared the other lady, the pretty one, was about to leave and she hadn't even glanced in their direction. He looked around the cage to see if he could find anything to get her attention since his voice was stifled but saw nothing. He was starting to become desperate and noticed Wort becoming so also. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to watch boiling water and didn't like the way the lady in black chose to carry them so he did the only thing he could think of at the time.

"Ouch!" he said, although no audible sound emerged, when he jumped and hit his head on the roof of the cage.

Wort looked at him quizzically and Stu again jumped as high as he could. Realization dawned and Wort did the same but for some reason the nice woman, the one who brought a basket with food, took no notice of them.

"Okay, well if you need anything you know where to find me" the one called Gaia said with a smile and Stu's anxiety ratcheted higher.

For some reason she couldn't see them. For some reason she couldn't hear them. He knew something was off but didn't know what it was. He was about to resign himself to watching inappropriate meal-making when he came upon one final idea he felt might work. He looked to his friend with an apology in his eye, spun Wort around and pushed him with all his might into the side of the cage.

"Ouch!" Wort said.

Again nothing was heard but the act did produce one tiny effect which saved them; the cage rattled.

"Oh! What was that?" Gaia said.

"Those are mine" Esmeralda replied with a voice of crackling quality.

Gaia moved around the black-hatted woman and finally noticed the Midglings who, at that time, were in a wrestling contest because Wort had not figured out why Stu threw him against the side of the cage.

"Are those Midglings?"

"Those are mine."

Wort and Stu broke their holds because they realized the good one, the pretty blonde, had finally noticed their presence.

It was then when Gaia noticed something else.

"Is that a cauldron of boiling water?"

The one named Esmeralda suddenly took on a new demeanor. She became much more defensive and appeared to grow a little larger, emanate a little more power, and both Midglings felt something about her was not quite right.

"You may leave now, Gaia" she crackled.

"Were you planning on eating these Midglings, Esmeralda?"

Now, while it was true neither Wort nor Stu could make a sound it was not true they couldn't hear, so when the nice lady in blue asked the question to the sullen lady in black both Midglings reacted as their species were designed to do in times of crisis; they fainted on the spot.

Luckily, Gaia took a liking and bargained for their lives.

"If you let me have them I will grow your shack out of Ginger branches."

They had been hashing out a proper trading value for the two unconscious beings when Gaia noticed Esmeralda's eyes open a bit more at the mention of Ginger branches.

"Will you add Sugar Plum branches also?"

"I can" Gaia responded.

"And Lemon Drop branches?"

"Yes. My, you seem to have developed a sweet tooth, Esmeralda."

Esmeralda merely smiled. Gaia was right. She had developed a taste for something new. Only not, necessarily, of the sugar variety. She had one more request, though, for she was not of the welding and manufacturing folk.

"And I need an oven."

"An oven?"

"Yes, I believe I shall start baking my sweets instead."

The deal was struck and the Midglings went to live in Mother Nature's castle while Esmeralda perfected the art of candy-making and used her brand-new oven to bake somewhat different tasty treats.

Wort and Stu remained in the castle because it was the most wondrous place they'd ever seen. Every type of creature could be found, even those of Ogre, Orc and Troll for though they were normally born with evil in their hearts sometimes mutations occurred and Mother Nature happily took them in. The two rapidly became normal fixtures and went about performing their chores admirably if not exactly efficiently. It wasn't their fault because three feet of height brought about difficulties when chandelier-cleaning appeared on the 'To Do' list. Even so, they found themselves a home and were happy as two Midglings could get. That is, until they were tasked with saving the castle under siege by the forces of Prince Blight.

"Hello, you two."

"Hello, Mother Nature."

She called them to her chambers and they responded with hope in their hearts the plan had somehow changed

"Are you two ready?"

With their hopes dashed they began a new tactic.

"Um, Ma'am, we're really proud you've shown so much trust in us but..."

"But what, Stu?"

"But we're pretty sure we're going to die, Ma'am."

She glanced at Wort.

"And do you feel the same way, little one?"

"No, Ma'am, I'm not pretty sure we're going to die; I'm positive we're going to die."

She took a second and thought on what they proclaimed.

"All right, I'm going to allow you the chance to decline but first I want you to hear me out, okay?"

They both nodded they would.

"As of right now we're at a standstill but it will not last forever. Every soldier we have are on the castle walls because we do not have the manpower to relieve them. Until now I have been providing an aid to keep them awake but at some point their bodies will revolt and they will fall asleep. When that happens were are done for. The forces of Blight will enter the castle and all will be lost. The only chance we have is the help of Father Time. I would willingly go myself but I am needed here to defend the castle and so is every single soldier behind these walls. I am sending you two because I believe you can succeed. The forces opposing us will not be looking for ones such as you. I thought about sending an escort but decided against it for two reasons. First, if I do send one we will further deplete our ranks and part of the walls will go undefended. Second, if you run into the enemy they will probably pay you no attention if you're alone but if you are with an escort they will most definitely challenge and, again, all will be lost. I will not force you to do the service but I do believe it is our only chance. As always, the choice is up to you."

Both Midglings, of course, acceded to her desires. They left her chambers for the time was fast approaching, the sun setting and the forces of Nature mounting their steeds.

"You know, she really is good with the guilt trips."

"Yep."

So the two entered the courtyard dressed in brown and green, carrying their backpacks and standing around doing nothing for their part of the adventure wouldn't really begin until the others' had ended.
Chapter 6: Disenrollment

The Siege (Blight's Encampment)

The fires were just starting, the sky turning grey as the sun began to sink behind the castle.

"Sergeant?"

"Yes, Brutus?"

"How long are we going to be at this siege?"

Savage had been considering the question for some time because, although the money was worth it, the company they kept left a lot to be desired. Ogres, Orcs, and Trolls were absolutely horrendous camping partners. They threw their waste wherever they wished, never showered so far as anyone could tell and made a ruckus throughout the night which caused the mercenaries in the rear to lose a lot of sleep.

"Well, we know they've got a small contingent of soldiers and at some point their constitutions will run low. When that happens we'll be able to storm the castle. I would guess Queen Nature is probably helping them stave off weariness but even she can't hold out forever. If I had to guess we've probably got a little more than a week, two at the most, before their bodies succumb and we can talk about surrender."

Brutus nodded his head to indicate he liked the idea and went back to tending the small fire they had started at the forward observation post. Brutus knew Savage to be a good leader because he was one of the few who valued the lives of soldiers under his command. He would much rather have a show of force which would be so obvious to the other side hostilities would never even commence. Surrender was his preferred method of winning and since mercenaries got paid with victory they also felt earning gold without putting their lives on the line was a pretty good option. Both men were lost in their thoughts when the third arrived.

"We've got a problem."

They listened as Deadaim described what he'd gathered.

"I was at the command tent and saw Slicer enter. I snuck up and heard their exchange."

What came next altered the war.

"They are going to kill us."

Deadaim went on to describe a bargaining process whereby Prince Blight and Slicer decided the price of life. Slicer's men, the Elvin, were slighter in stature than Humans, infinitely weaker than Trolls, unable to take a single blow from an Orc, let alone an Ogre, and perhaps the most feared members in the Prince's army. The Elvin were assassins. They were lithe and lean, silent and quick, with eyes adapted to their homeland allowing them almost perfect vision in the dark. They employed the ancient craft of surprise and were ruthlessly cunning in its employ. What Deadaim heard was Slicer's plan to end the siege at any moment and the price agreed upon was the gold promised to Savage.

"They have Elvin stationed at the gates, actually burrowed under dirt, waiting for the moment the gates are opened and when they do they're going to slip in and kill the Queen."

The plan came with risk because the need was so. The gates Deadaim talked about could be opened and shut in a fraction of time. When they opened, the stallions of Nature's Guard would rush out and the gates closed immediately behind them. It had been employed before and the speed of attack took a toll on the Prince's army which was bloody in its impact. After the blitzkrieg the Queen's soldiers would turn around and race back inside to, again, take up sentry. On every occasion Savage watched to see if he could spot a weakness. He couldn't. Slicer did.

"They're buried under dirt in front of the gate?" Brutus asked

"Yes" Deadaim answered.

"Won't they get trampled?"

"Yes, but they only need one inside and he, in turn, will receive what was promised to us."

Savage thought it over. While he detested the loss of able bodies he could admire the planning. The Elvin were stealth attackers. They were undeniably the most gifted in their craft for they had the ability to remain hidden where others would be found instantly. Their reputation of death-dealing was widespread throughout the kingdoms but was generally deplored by those who reigned because, while they might be useful in removing a rival, they could also be employed against their own rule.

"How can they breath if they're underground?" Brutus queried.

"They have these small hollow reeds which they poke through the dirt for air. They're about the size of a straw."

Savage was dwelling over Deadaim's information. If it were true they were in a lot of trouble. They were outnumbered on every side and while the mercenaries might follow him in battle they would also cut his throat for the promise of a few pieces of gold. His musing were cut short, however, by the sound of penetrating flesh.

"Uh-oh, they're coming out the gates right now" Brutus intoned.

Savage turned to look and sure enough he could see the gates opening and the mounted soldiers of Mother Nature's army charging onto the battlefield. They had been preceded, as always, by a hail of arrows as the ranks of Ogres, Orcs and Trolls were thinned by shafts shot true by those with the ability to repeat a volley every five seconds. The swath they cut in the ranks of the creatures allowed the soldiers, led by General Shield, the opportunity to reach deep into the opposing forces' lines before encountering any resistance.

"It looks like they're going for the command post."

It did, indeed, appear to be the case but Savage wasn't so sure. The command post was too far in the rear to make a successful return if they reached it. While the soldiers of Nature were exceptional in their craft they were not invulnerable and there was no way they could navigate back through so many creatures without sustaining unbearable losses. He felt it was a ruse. That thought, and the knowledge of what Deadaim supplied, caused him to look away from the action to where the gates were closing. What he saw brought both confusion and clarity to his mind. The clarity was in the form of a figure slithering into the gates right before they closed. He probably would've missed it, for it was done so quickly, if not for what brought his confusion. As the Elvin glided like smoke through the gate's opening it came into contact with two little beings also using the gate only in the opposite direction. When he noticed the Midglings bump into something, gather themselves and race out the gate he also saw death moving inside the castle's walls. He then made a decision.

"Deadaim!"

"Yes, Sergeant?"

"Warn the castle they have an assassin inside!"

Deadaim nodded his head, reached into a pocket, pulled out a parchment, wrote the warning, wrapped it around an arrow and started scanning for the one he knew would be providing aid to the soldiers of Mother Nature.

"Brutus!"

"Yes, Sergeant?"

"We are resigning from this army immediately! Gather the supplies and bring them back here!"

Brutus was off before Savage got all the words out and the Sergeant formulated the best way to both escape and possibly, if luck were on their side, exact a little payback on the Prince who would have them dead.

He waited as Deadaim found his target and released the steel-capped wooden missile.

"Deadaim!"

"Yes, Sergeant?"

"Two Midglings fled the castle. Find out which way they were headed and wait for us at the rendezvous point!"

Deadaim also took off before Savage finished issuing his orders which left him standing there for a second deciding which group of the unwashed creatures he was going to throw to the wolves. When he caught sight of the Troll Toodrake his mind was made up for him.

"Toad!"

The Troll turned to see who dared use the name in his presence.

"Savage" he hissed back for he hated the mercenary as he hated no other.

"Tell you're Orcs and Ogres to get between the Queen's soldiers and the castle. When they retreat you will have your taste of flesh as reward."

The Troll despised the Human, loathed everything about the man but he followed his orders because the Prince demanded so. The Prince was despair, the Prince was destruction, the Prince was death. He was also the son of King Rot and even though the Troll Toodrake thought he could possibly defeat Blight in battle he was under no illusions about the Prince's father. King Rot would have his head on a platter for merely questioning his son's orders. So, though he wished to sever Savage's throat with his battle axe he could not do so as long as the Prince allowed him command of the army.

"It will be done" he hissed.

"Good! And do it quickly you green skinned amphibian!"

Troll Toodrake had no idea what an amphibian was, it wasn't necessary, he held enough intelligence to understand Savage would never part with a compliment in his direction.

As Toodrake was both following his orders and dreaming of skinning Savage alive the Sergeant was wondering if maybe the Troll himself would be foolish enough to actually enter the fight.

"Sergeant!"

The sound of Prince Blight's voice was not one he wished to hear.

"Yes, Your Highness?" he said with false sincerity as the Prince strode up.

"I want you and your men to meet me in my tent after this business with the attacking forces is over!" Blight said, indicating the fighting happening a ways to the front.

"Yes, Your Highness" Savage responded and knew then the words Deadaim heard were true.

In the time Savage had been in his employ the Prince had never called anyone but him to consultations. The Prince believed in separation. He actually believed in his separation from the rest of the troglodytes who called the land their own but since he needed some of them he was willing to relent and allow them the pleasure of hearing him speak. When the Prince asked to see not only him but also Deadaim and Brutus the Sergeant's fears were confirmed; they were indeed in a lot of trouble.

He headed back to the forward post and found Brutus waiting for him.

"We need to get out of here in a hurry."

Brutus nodded his head and began to leave but stopped because he heard a trumpet's blare from the center of the battlefield.

"It sounds like General Shield feels he's done enough damage for the day."

"Give him a second. He's about to inflict a little more than anyone expected" the Sergeant replied.

"Huh? What do you mean by...? Hold on. Are those Ogres moving to block off his retreat?"

"Yep."

"Don't they realize they're right back in the same kill zone?"

"Probably not."

"The Queen's archers are going to tear them apart."

"Yep, I do believe you're right."

"What kind of fool would place them back in the very place their comrades were just butchered?"

"That would be me."

"Oh? Oh! Nice work!"

"Thank you very much. Now, you might want to get a move on because this slaughter is going to end rather quickly and the Prince will be wondering why we aren't attending to his wishes."

Brutus again nodded his head and the two mercenaries slipped out of camp under cover of dusk while the archers of Mother Nature took bulls-eye practice on creatures stupid enough to inhabit a location where the distance was known by those with bows and the experience of previously clearing it only minutes earlier.
Chapter 7: An Unwanted Visitor

The Siege (Castle Nirvana)

Hawkeye was waiting for the retreat signal from General Shield. The General's forces had ridden out after Hawkeye and his squadron of archers removed a chunk of creatures from the surrounding area. The plan was to feign an attack upon the command post while the Midglings made their escape. The first volley of arrows had devastated the Ogres manning the front lines. The second had ripped into the Orcs behind them. The third, fourth and fifth found a mixture of Ogre, Orc and Troll as the beasts began falling back under the onslaught.

"Hold your fire!" Hawkeye yelled and the bows fell silent.

The scene below was both outworldly and commonplace at the same time. General Shield's contingent of cavalry entered the fray and began slicing through Blight's army meeting little, if any, resistance. The reason was discipline and training; the General insisted on it and the creatures he faced incapable of even comprehending the idea. The rout was horrendous as trained warriors met beasts and dispatched them with ease. The problem? The beasts were in almost endless supply. At first Hawkeye thought maybe the General was wrong about them not having the ability to reach the command post and return but as the scene emerged he understood exactly what Shield had been talking about. Whenever one creature fell two took its place. It was like watching an endless horde of insects attacking a bigger prey, getting stomped, but eventually overwhelming through sheer force of numbers. Only the insects in the equation the General was facing were actually much larger than the prey. The commonplace about the scene was what war always brought; complete and utter chaos with small pockets of order. When Hawkeye let his gaze wander from the General's troops he could see nothing which resembled a professional fighting force, merely a vast number of creatures howling and pushing without any semblance of instruction. It was the lack of enemy coordination which allowed the Queen's army to inflict so much damage in such a short period of time. The archers would start off the skirmish by clearing a path for the cavalry who would enter the fight, kill as many Trolls as they could and then retreat. The reason for the Trolls was simple; Trolls were the communication between command and the front. Without Trolls the Prince would need to abandon his quest because Humans and Elvin had not mastered the art of gibberish so could not issue orders to Ogres and Orcs.

Hawkeye's attention changed for he felt something peculiar, something everyone felt at times but were unable to put into words; a feeling of someone's interest bearing directly upon them. He was not a particularly religious man, didn't believe in a lot of foolish wives tales sung around campfires of supernatural events, but he was also not one to discount his own senses for they had saved his life in the past time and time again. His eyes scanned the mass of beings surrounding the castle and saw nothing yet the feeling would not leave so he followed through with something he didn't quite believe and ducked. An arrow penetrated the wall above his head in the mortise between the stones.

He looked to where it had embedded itself and realized he'd been somewhat lucky; it would've missed his head but by only a fraction. If he'd moved even an inch it would've entered his skull. He would've then discovered if campfire stories held any truth about the afterlife. His eyes squinted in the dimming dusk light for he saw something else, something which actually made his heart skip a beat; a note.

He reached up with his hand, untied the parchment from the wooden shaft, unrolled it and felt dread enter his being. He glanced over the wall to see if he could verify what he thought was true. All he saw was chaos but he knew of only two who were capable of such a shot and he was one of them. Deadaim had sent him a message.

Assassin Inside.

He prepared to abandon his post and allow the others to keep guard when movement in the enemy's ranks caught his eye. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. The beasts were reentering the kill zone in an attempt to block off General Shield's retreat. He found himself in desperation for two events were unfolding and he knew not what to do. As fate sometimes did, it intervened on his behalf.

"Hawkeye, how goes the battle?"

Relief poured from the scout as Councilor Clearview ascended the ladder.

"Councilor, come here! I need you!"

Clearview saw the urgency in the amazing archer's eyes and immediately moved faster. When he reached the top Hawkeye shoved the parchment in his hand.

"Grab a bow and take this position! If you need any guidance ask Longshot, he's manning the post to your left!" Hawkeye yelled as he began descending the ladder.

"Huh? But I'm not very good with...!" Clearview began but halted for he'd finally read the note on the parchment.

"Oh, dear Lord!" he said and immediately began frantically searching for the weapon.

"Longshot!" he screamed.

"Councilor Clearview?" he heard in reply.

Clearview was about to reply 'yes' but didn't because Longshot had taken a step back from his fighting position and looked around the stone outcropping separating the two places.

"Uh-huh, it's me."

"Where's Hawkeye?"

"Somebody sent a note of an assassin inside the walls. I'm his replacement until he deals with the intruder."

"Oh."

The look on the man's face was probably the correct one considering Clearview's inability with the longbow. He wasn't exactly sure which came first; his understanding of complex ideas or his ineptitude at physical warfare.

"I need some help here."

"What kind of help?"

"Oh , I don't know? Maybe you could tell what the heck I'm shooting at!"

The scream seemed to please Longshot because he actually enjoyed the Councilor's discomfort. It wasn't because he disliked Clearview, no one disliked Clearview, but because he was amused at the other man's ability of knowing his limitations. Most didn't. Most pretended to be something they weren't till the point where others began to pay for their arrogance. Longshot had seen firsthand soldiers who proclaimed to be experts in archery prove at other's expenses they were no such thing. It only took one self-inflated individual to kill a squad of experienced warriors if the man held the position of lookout and the eyesight of a mole.

"Do you see those Ogres moving into that open area there?"

"Yes."

"Shoot them."

The order seemed easy enough. In fact, when he looked out the proof of the ease was readily apparent as the archers on the wall began unloading with deadly efficiency their own wooden shafts of death. The toll they were taking on the creatures was staggering. So Clearview notched an arrow, drew the bowstring and let fly with all he was worth.

"Darn."

The arrow landed ten feet outside the castle's walls. So he re-notched another arrow, again pulled the string and re-released another volley intending to inflict mortal wounds into immortal souls.

"Dang."

The arrow actually landed closer to the castle walls.

"Um, Councilor?" he heard from Longshot's position.

"Yes?"

"The Ogres are a little farther out than that."

He vowed to retake lessons in archery, readied another arrow and again let go.

"Oh, for the love of...!"

The arrow never even left the perimeter of the castle. He'd shot the thing directly into the wall itself. Clearview was not a fool, he knew he was not made of archery material but he also knew he was needed so he kept at it and eventually found his rhythm. When he finally hit a creature the size of a rhinoceros it became apparent the others manning the wall had also taken an interest in his abilities for as the missile entered the rear of the behemoth a cheer could be heard from the soldiers to his left.

"Hey! He got one! He actually got one!"

When he was through listening to their amazed opinions on his ability to aim, pull and let go a string he re-notched another arrow and again sighted the field. He shouldn't have. He should've taken solace in the fact he'd actually hit a target and let it go at that. But he didn't. He re-notched, re-aimed and found himself staring at the far-away Ogre who had pulled the arrow from its posterior and was searching for the source of its pain in the butt. He found it when Clearview's eyes found him.

"Oh no."

Ogres were not multi-taskers. They could not do two things at once and were incapable of arithmetic. They could, however, do singular things which made them formidable foes because when they had an object in sight, a sole goal in mind, they were absolute in their determination to bash the thing.

"Um, Longshot?"

"Yes, Councilor?"

"That Ogre is running this way."

The Ogre had sighted on Clearview and decided he was the reason for his dismay.

"Yes, it appears he blames you for putting an arrow in his rump."

"Uh-huh, yep. So, um... what do I do?"

"I would advise retreat but since we have nowhere to go I would re-advise putting another arrow in him before he gets here."

Clearview could see the wisdom in the man's words but had a difficult time following through with the details because his hands were trembling, his anxiety rising and the Ogre quickly closing the distance. He shot an arrow and missed. He shot again and missed even further. As he was reaching for another he was also watching with increasing terror the distance between himself and the beast steadily narrowing.

"Oh dear."

None of the others manning the walls seemed to take an interest in the lone Ogre approaching so Clearview once again asked for help.

"Longshot?"

"Yes, Councilor?"

"Um, do you think you could shoot him for me?"

The laugh was not what he wished to hear.

"I'm sorry, Councilor. It's against the archer's code to finish what another has started."

Clearview doubted very much the sincerity of Longshot's words but was not in the position to question for the Ogre had reached the castle's walls and was glaring up at him with beastly black eyes, slobber running down his chin and a grunt of determination as he began scaling the wall to smash the man who shot a splinter in his backside.

"Oh dear Lord, oh dear Lord, oh dear Lord."

Clearview was fumbling arrows as fast as he could grab them. He kept glancing over the wall to verify the monster was, indeed, climbing the barricade by smashing his fingertips into the mortise between the stones and making steady progress as he did so.

"You might want to shoot him now, Councilor" he heard Longshot say in a laughable way.

"Oh crap!" he screamed out loud for he was unable to notch an arrow because his anxiety had risen to the point of all-out panic.

He chanced one more peek over the perimeter with hopes the horrifying creature had made a mistake and slipped but what he saw left him speechless and frozen for the brute was three quarters the way up. He looked around in desperation for any kind of weapon.

"Seriously, Councilor, you might want to think about shooting him before he reaches the top."

Clearview was no longer in full charge of his mental capacities for he was in complete terror mode and followed through with its idea of problem solving.

"Did you...? Did you just throw your bow at him?"

He had. In his desperation he had thrown the one item which might have been able to solve his problem but even there he performed the task inadmirably. The longbow was as its name implied; a five-foot length of flexible wood shaped and molded into a weapon capable of delivering sharp steel mounted on arrow-shaft into even the most formidable of opponents. He had thrown the thing with all his might with the hopes he would knock the beast off the wall onto the ground below. He had forgotten one small detail; Ogres were large. The bow might as well have been a twig to one the size of a small elephant and as Clearview watched his effort bounce off the forehead of the man-eater he knew his end was near. He stepped away from the wall in complete fright for the monster had reached the top, grabbed the edge of the wall and lifted its torso over the rim while opening its maw to deliver its growl of terrifying triumph.

Clearview wasn't positive of what he might've done. He could not remember if fight or flight entered his brain but luckily he didn't need to for as the beast's mouth opened an arrow entered and the Ogre fell to the ground without the greatest of ease.

"Thank God!"

Longshot had finally come to his aid.

"Um, Councilor?"

"Yes?"

"Maybe you should just hand me arrows from now on."

The Councilor had not become the advisor to Mother Nature because of his ignorance.

"Yes, I believe that would be the wisest of choices."

As the two stood on the ramparts removing living obstacles from General Shield's path another was implementing a plan which had formed during the search for his Queen.

"Mother Nature?"

"Yes, Hawkeye?"

"Please come with me."

As they moved he described what he had in mind.

"You don't believe we should tell everyone?"

"No. He will attempt to kill you and flee if he believes his presence is unknown and escape possible. If he finds out otherwise he will prepare differently."

She thought it over but not in the way Hawkeye believed. She trusted him completely and would follow his advice without question for she knew his soul. She was, however, curious.

"How would he prepare differently?"

"He would act with the knowledge death was at hand. He would throw his life away in order to take yours and even the best defenses are no match for one such as him if he believes so."

She was always amazed at some of the beings in her realm. She was the bringer of life, the Queen of Nature itself and the embodiment of all that was good. The fact some would throw away her gift was one which she had trouble contemplating and gave her discomfort.

"And you believe your plan will work?"

"Yes, it will work if my aim is true."

And her discomfort evaporated for she knew one thing above all, one overriding truth in the entire realm; Hawkeye's aim was never false and always on target.
Chapter 8: Blight's Desire

The Siege (Blight's Encampment)

The Prince was in roaring rage.

"Where is Sergeant Savage?"

"I do not know, Your Highness" hissed the Troll Toodrake in a cower.

Blight was angry, both because his army had been beaten, slaughtered actually, by the Queen's forces and because the man he held responsible, the mercenary he'd placed in charge of his army was not following orders and appearing as he desired.

"Go and find where he is!"

"Yes, Your Highness" hissed Toodrake again.

The Troll left the command tent in a foul mood. It was his normal demeanor only a bit strengthened because he disliked the Prince, detested Savage and if really pressed would find difficult locating any Human he did not. He was the real power, the one with the knowledge of how to control the beasts, not the Humans. They needed him more than he needed them but he was in a quandary; his Trolls required torment, they reveled in others' agony and were insatiable in their desire to inflict harm. It did not matter the recipient, only that there was one. His problem, as always, was finding a group large enough to keep his charges satisfied so they would not become preoccupied with internal squabbling and begin plotting ways to end his rule. He had governed the Trolls with an iron fist and provided them with victims to quench their thirst for savagery. As long as they were fighting others they had no time to dwell on his reign. Since Toodrake reveled in power he was somewhat beholden to the Prince because he was always at war with one race which provided Trolls their every desire; Humans.

"Where is Savage?"

"I don't know, Toad. Why don't you look where the sun doesn't shine."

Toodrake wasn't certain of the reference but knew an insult when he heard one. He memorized the mercenary's face, vowed to eat the man slowly if given the chance and walked further in the encampment to search for a man he wished never existed. As he met one negative answer after another he finally arrived at the Elvin clan. He would not enter for to do so meant certain death. Of all the smaller races he liked the Elvin best. He would still eat them, of course, but he would save them till last and savor their deliciousness for they were of similar minds. The Elvin were the most cunning, the cruelest and held ice water in their veins. Their position in the encampment was off limits to almost all save the Prince, other Elvin and, disgustingly to Toodrake's thinking, Sergeant Savage. He moved to speak with the sentry of their kind.

"The Prince wishes to know the whereabouts of Savage" he hissed in what he believed an acceptable way.

He received silence in response.

"I said the Prince wishes..." he began then abruptly ended when a scimitar appeared out of nowhere in the Elvin's hand and its tip touched, ever so gently, his abdomen.

"You have no authority here, Troll, leave or die" the silent dealer in death said by way of whisper.

Toodrake was both impressed and angry at the same time. Whenever he met an Elvin he came away wondering why they would ever side with Humans in the first place. They were made to bring death and torture to any who crossed their path. His Trolls were the same. Unfortunately the Elvin didn't trust his troops. It was probably because a couple of them, from time to time, would see an opportunity and rid others in the army of possessions while a battle was looming. But Toodrake felt that was unfair because they were only taking advantage of a situation ripe for exploitation. He couldn't grasp why others believed their things would be safe just because they were fighting a war. As he was walking away thinking of roasted Elvin on a turning spit he saw a rather unique sight; two more Elvin carrying a litter with a third of their kind resting upon the makeshift stretcher. Elvin were very rarely seen and they were even rarer seen in the company of another. Whenever he had the opportunity to speak with one it was only that; one. They were the shadow warriors, the ones who could blend into the background so efficiently it was said a victim could be looking directly at them as they split open their midsection and never catch of a glimpse of their executioner. The one on the litter particularly caught his attention for he appeared trampled upon. He thought about hanging around the perimeter to catch an earful of what happened to the assassin but then remembered the feel of Elvin steel on his stomach and changed his mind.

The Orcs were a smelly lot. They were forever rooting around in the dirt and mud for some reason he could never fathom. They themselves had their own leader and it was him Toodrake was making a call upon.

Gronk was a large Orc. His family consisted of enormous sows and boars which kept them in power because, although Orcs worked together in groups to torment others, they were not sociable creatures. In fact, it was said an Orc's greatest enemy was another Orc. They were constantly fighting amongst themselves, continually insulting and being insulted by those who survived the weaning years. They were the ones who didn't trust others, wouldn't turn their backs on their peers, for if they did they would've been the recipients of spear-thrusts not the deliverers of the thrusting.

"I need to speak with Gronk" Toodrake hissed to the guard at the Orc's tent.

"Wait' was the grunted response so Toodrake stood amongst his species' oldest rivals while the overgrown pig went to fetch his commander.

Trolls and Orcs had been competitors from the early stages of existence. They both hunted the same smaller races and fought many wars over the millennia. They didn't hunt each other, at least not as prey, for neither particularly enjoyed the flavor of the other; they were both considered too grisly and greasy. The smaller species were the desired ones, the ones with the right composition of fat and meat to make cooking an agonizing ordeal. The aroma was such they generally ate the meat raw because they couldn't stomach the wait.

He was finally allowed entrance and met the Orc inside the tent.

"The Prince wants to know where Savage is" Toodrake said gutturally.

"No see since fight" Gronk barked back.

The Troll Toodrake felt something was not quite right with the situation. Gronk appeared to be a bit more angry than normal. Orc's were always angry, always seeing slights, but as far as Toodrake could remember he hadn't purposefully insulted the fat mud-wallower in quite some time.

"Why are you taking that tone with me, Orc?"

"Why you send Orc's to slaughter, Troll?"

And so Toodrake had his answer. The Orcs did, indeed, take a pounding when they moved to cut off General Shield's escape but it wasn't his fault; he was merely following orders.

"I did not give the order, Gronk, it was Savage who did. I merely passed along his wishes."

Toodrake watched as the Orc processed the information. Orcs were notoriously slow replacing one idea with another and it was said a full day could pass if they were given a question with more than two possible answers. The Troll waited as one thought replaced another in Gronk's limited grey matter.

"Last I see Savage he and barbarian running away from battle" he finally replied.

"They were running away?"

A grunt was the Orc's reply. Luckily for Toodrake he could tell the difference between a negative and positive grunt so he went further.

"When was this?"

"After his archer no hit."

"No hit what?"

"No hit one called Hawkeye."

Toodrake was stunned by the revelation, amazed actually, for a couple of reasons. First, the fact Gronk could remember the name of the legendary scout in the Queen's army and, second, because he knew the archer the Orc was talking about. He hated Deadaim, wished to see him boil in water with salt and vinegar to complement a meal with roasted Elvin as the appetizer but he also knew one thing with absolute certainty; Deadaim did not miss.

"He missed?"

"Yes, then run away."

Toodrake was completely perplexed. He despised everything about the mercenaries but had a difficult time grasping the three would run away. They had never shown the slightest hint of fear since the time the seize started and, since the Trolls had been employed by Blight for several campaigns, Toodrake had the unpleasure of working with Savage's men in the past. They had never left a battle for they always won.

"Tell me everything you saw" he then demanded.

As Gronk was grunting his description another tale was told at the same time.

"Slicer!"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"You dare call for me! I shall have your head for this insult!"

They were in the Elvin encampment and the Prince, as always, in an unpleasant state.

"I had to, Your Highness, the information we have cannot be moved" the Elvin responded without a waver in his voice.

Prince Blight was always intrigued with the Elvin. He would never admit it aloud but he held a certain respect for the race because they contained the one trait he found most admirable; they did not fear death. They worshipped at her alter and willingly went to her embrace. It didn't mean he wouldn't give them the pleasure of fulfilling their wishes but he also saw their usefulness so he decided to relent and hear what the Elvin leader had to say.

"What information?"

"We have an assassin inside."

The Prince immediately became interested.

"You have one of yours inside?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"How do you know?"

"Another of ours was there. One who was not successful but saw one who was."

The Prince followed Slicer as he led through the camp to a tent located in the far rear. They went inside and listened as the Elvin who would soon meet his goddess told them what he witnessed.

"I was in the ground when the gate opened and their forces entered the field. My position was to the left, near the opening but, unfortunately, in the path of a steed. As I waited I saw one of our brethren enter the gate but then I fell unconscious for a hoof hit my head. When I came to I was here."

The Prince was elated. An Elvin was inside the castle walls. He was taken aback by one thing, though, for he had previous experience working with the Elvin warriors and needed clarification.

"How were you able to see your brethren enter? I thought your stealth was such even your kind could not locate another if he didn't wish it so?"

The Elvin on the bed, at the edge of death's door, answered.

"I would have missed his presence altogether if the two who were leaving had not startled his image."

The answer was cryptic enough to set the Prince's ire higher.

"What two?" he demanded.

He waited for the dying creature to answer, waited so long he thought maybe the expiration date had passed when the Elvin finally spoke.

"There were two Midglings who fled when the Queen's army attacked."

Blight was of two minds. One, he was angry a pair of Mother Nature's creatures had managed to escape but since they were Midglings he relegated it as two cowards who saw an opportunity and ran with it. Second, he was overcome with what the dying Elvin related; an assassin was inside. The Elvin were nothing if not fanatical in their craft. With one inside he knew victory was at hand. It might take a day, maybe a week, but one thing was already a foregone conclusion; with an Elvin in the castle the Queen's reign would soon end.
Chapter 9: Elfins

The First Journey (Breathtaking Forest)

They were making good progress. Well, as good as creatures with stubby little legs and portly bellies were capable of making. They were on the Queen's Path winding their way through the Breathtaking Forest.

"Stu?"

"Yes, Wort?"

"I'm getting a little tired."

"Thank God! So am I! Let's say we rest for a while?"

Wort agreed resting was the best possible solution for tiredness so the Midglings shook off their backpacks, leaned against a tree and were soon snoring in the afternoon shade of an enormous oak. Stu was slightly startled with the passing of something running and an alarmed voice.

"Look out!"

He opened his eyes a bit but had a difficult time for he was in the area where wakefulness was an unwanted product. So he closed them and was, once again, in a restful slumber.

"Coming through!"

He again tried to ignore the sound but felt the need to verify he wasn't in trouble so with great difficulty cracked one eye, saw nothing and returned to bliss.

"Watch your feet!"

The third time was the charm for he definitely heard the passing of hoof and the sound of fleeing.

"Wort! Wake up!"

Wort, on the other hand, was not as vigilant as his partner so had no idea why Stu was interrupting his needed nap time.

"Huh? What?"

"Something's out there."

Wort, not one known to pass up his recommended amount of rest was not impressed with Stu's thought process.

"Of course there's something out there. We're in a forest, there's lots of things out there."

Stu, unable to come up with an answer to Wort's statement decided his friend was right, closed his eyes again and waited for lazy midday dreams to replace reality. He awoke anew when a different sound interrupted his down time.

"Grrrr!"

He opened his eyes and there, in front of him, stood a wolf.

"Yikes!"

He jumped to his feet with his back to the tree at the same time screaming for his partner to wake.

"Wort!"

His answer came by way of slumber.

Snore!

Stu was looking into the eyes of death. He'd heard of wolves but never seen the creatures before because they were reportedly not a species which the Midglings wished to make acquaintances.

"Wort!"

"Huh? What is it...?" he said wearily while opening his eyes.

"Yaaghh!"

Wort too was off the ground with his back to the tree in an instant. It was something Midglings were good at; startled fright followed by rapid movement if fainting didn't occur first.

The wolf was on all fours standing in the Queen's Path while they were trapped with their backs against an enormous tree, they being too small to even attempt climbing. Both were staring in terror at fangs used to tear flesh, eyes employed to sight prey and claws for holding till teeth sunk in for the kill. Stu was further afraid because he thought he heard voices.

"Are they Midglings?"

"I think so."

He saw no one but a wolf so figured he was going insane right before getting eaten. It was a feat of profound proportion both he and Wort didn't faint at first sight so it could be understood what happened when the unthinkable occurred.

"Um, do you think you could give us a hand?" the wolf asked.

And the Midglings once again retreated into blackness.

They came around in a clearing with the buzz of activity humming through the air.

"Oh, good, you're awake!" the impish being in front of them said as both sat up in wonder they were not inside a wolf's stomach.

They looked around and saw hundreds of other beings the same size as the smallish creature facing them.

"Hi, my name is Tweedlewink. Sorry about the scare back at the tree, we kind of forgot we were in character."

The creature stood about one foot in height and wore a strange multicolored garb of blue and red. He had on a hat with a feather and was smiling wide as he both introduced himself and apologized for scaring them senseless.

"You were in character?" Stu asked bewilderedly.

"Uh-huh. We were in Wearwolf mode."

Stu became slightly more confused.

"Wearwolf?"

"Uh-huh. It's what we wear when we want to scare the Rutters away from our fields" Tweedlewink said with a nod of his tiny head.

As he was talking the others began taking an interest and before either Midgling could move they were surrounded by the entire lot.

"Um, I'm sorry, but..." Stu said and hesitated.

"But what?"

"Um, what kind of creature are you?"

"We're Elfins" Tweedlewink responded and watched as the two adventurers passed out on the spot.

They again arose with Tweedlewink in front and a concerned look on his face.

"Are you two all right?"

Stu looked around in fright. He was worried what he thought he heard was correct. He was going to ask for a clarification when Wort beat him to the punch.

"Did you say you were Elvin?"

A look of consternation appeared on the imps face as he rapidly shook his head in the negative.

"Oh, goodness no. We're not those horrible assassins; we're Elfins. We farm the forest and work for Mother Nature not the Goddess of Death."

Both Wort and Stu immediately exhaled a sigh of relief.

"Thank God! For a second there I thought you were going to say..." Wort began.

"Say what?"

"Um, you know, something about getting ready to meet our maker or other scary stuff."

"Nope. We don't issue threats. Seems kind of an impractical way to get along with your neighbors."

The two Midglings finally introduced themselves and soon were walking through the village in rapt amazement at what the Elfins had accomplished. Almost everywhere they looked grains were grown, vegetable fields tended and fruit-trees pruned. The entire community was in on the work and it appeared they had an impressive display of cooperation going on.

"Tweedlewink?"

"Yes, Stu?"

The question hadn't been asked because the activity taking place all around them consumed their thoughts. When he finally realized they were in a farming hot-bed he remembered.

"Why do you dress up like a wolf?"

"Oh, well, it's not just me. Obviously it takes quite a few of us to wear wolf if we're going to make the proper impression. But to answer your question it's because we were trying to scare off the Piglets."

"The Piglets?"

"Uh-huh, the Oinkers; those pink-skinned baby Orcs who keep tearing up our gardens whenever we turn our back."

It turned out the Elfins had a problem of pest control. They'd gone to Mother Nature seeking guidance in dealing with the curly-tailed critters and she suggested they try a different, but similar, approach as the scarecrow. She'd given them a wolf's coat, they altered the eyes and teeth to make it appear menacing and set up a duty schedule the entire community was to adhere by. Every day between fifteen and twenty Elfins would adorn the fur and after a while it became known as Wearwolf patrol.

"So those sounds we heard before we met you were...?"

"The Rutters. They're pretty fast despite their appearance and they run back home when we catch them tearing up our fields."

It seemed like a pretty good plan to Stu except for one problem.

"But they keep coming back?"

"Yep. We thought we had them licked when we exploded their first home but they built another and returned to plague us again. We found that one too and blew it to smithereens but they've appeared to solve their dilemma by moving into another place we can't seem to find a solution for."

Stu had a difficult time believing his hearing.

"You blew up their houses?"

"Uh-huh. We're farmers. We've got blowing stuff up down to an art form."

It turned out farming was sometimes a difficult process and the removal of unwanted material necessary for its success. The problem the Elfins ran into was one of size and strength.

"Where did they move?"

The Elfin named Tweedlewink looked them straight in the eye and they knew he'd had a plan all along.

"They went underground. They went into the caves."

And so a bargain was struck. The Midglings would use their underground cave dwelling experience to help the Elfins and they, in return, would provide safe passage through the Breathtaking Forest. Stu wasn't exactly sure what the Elfins could provide since they were one-third the height of him and he half the height of a Human but he figured if they'd been able to clear an area and cultivate produce then they'd probably have some useful purpose to their mission. He was dwelling on the mission when Wort interrupted his thoughts.

"Stu?"

"Yes, Wort?"

"Um, do we even have time for this?"

"You know what? I was thinking the exact same thing."

They were following the path set forth by the combined knowledge of Mother Nature, General Shield and Councilor Clearview. Stay on the Queen's Path through the Breathtaking Forest, skirt the Land of Lawlessness by taking a raft up the Lazy River, stop in the kingdom of Mother Mayeye, the Queen's ally, and bypass completely the Mountain of Det by traveling underground with the help of their own people, the Midglings of Middlesome.

"Why don't we just sneak out of..." Wort began before quieting because right then Tweedlewink appeared with something large in his hands.

"Okay, guys, I've got everything you need right here."

They looked at what he laid on the ground in confusion.

"You want us to give them a candle?" Stu inquired.

"Huh? A candle? Where do you see...? Oh! Ha, no, this isn't a candle" he said indicating the thing which definitely did resemble the walking nightglow stick.

"It's not?" Wort queried for he too thought the thing was for daylight making during darkness hours.

"Nope. It's a stick of Kaboom."

Both Midglings were naïve in the ways of the world but they'd also done their research before reaching the land above and neither could recall anything called Kaboom.

"What's Kaboom?"

"It's what we use to blow tree stumps out of the ground. We put the stick under the stump, light the fuse and wait for it to go kaboom."

The two stood there with mouths agape as they finally realized what the tiny Elfin with a winning smile wanted them to do.

"Hold on! You want us to blow them up?"

He returned their question with an even winninger smile and bobbed his head up and down to indicate he did indeed want them to exterminate their pink pest problem.

"Uh-huh. Well, not them actually, just the entrance to their underground lair. You see, we figure if we can just keep relocating them further and further away eventually they'll find some other famer's land to steal from and leave our crops alone."

Neither Stu nor Wort knew what to say. They weren't only pacifists, they were beyond such concepts for their kind had been prey so long they held neither the skills nor the aptitude to even have a choice in the matter.

"But what if they're inside the cave?" Stu asked incredulously.

"Uh-huh, yeah, I'm not going to lie to you guys; it is a distinct possibility so we decided in conference to allow for it."

The Midglings weren't all too sure they heard correctly.

"Huh?"

"You've got the Elfin Council's go ahead on the elimination of our produce problem and if Mother Nature brings it up we'll have your back."

Tweedlewink said it with such conviction the two were left dumbfounded by the suggestion.

"Are you insane?" Stu finally screamed.

It appeared to surprise the Elfin who took a step back in confusion.

"Huh? What? What did I say?"

Stu looked at Wort who was staring back at him with complete shock at what Tweedlewink dared suggest they do.

"You want us to murder people for stealing your crops?"

The Elfin's eyes widened at the accusation.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Who said anything about murdering people? I'm talking about eliminating a troublesome source to our food production not the killing of some higher life-form."

Stu became confused.

"Hold on. What are we talking about here?"

"We're talking about blowing up the entrance to the Piglets lair so we can get back to the business of producing Mother Nature's bounty."

Stu was more mystified.

"Piglets can talk?"

Which cause Tweedlewink some perplexion.

"Huh? No, of course not."

And so Wort became bamboozled.

"What are you two taking about?"

And Stu finally realized a way out of their dilemma.

"Look, I think we've had some sort of mix-up. The sounds I heard were definitely voices so I believe we've gotten our signals crossed. I don't think the ones who ran by us are the ones you think they are. Are you positive you were following Piglets?"

The look Tweedlewink gave him was filled with outrage and insult.

"Of course!"

Stu was taken back because he wasn't sure why the Elfin took such indignation at the remark.

"You couldn't be wrong?"

Tweedlewink looked at him as if he were asking if grass were green or the sky blue.

"No, impossible."

"How is it impossible?"

The Elfin puffed out his chest, cleared his throat and squared his shoulders.

"Because we are the eyes and ears of the forest. Everything which occurs in our realm are known to us. We have Elfins stationed in every tree, under every rock and were watching the whole time as the Piglets ran by your location."

Stu was again speechless. He knew he heard voices but was beginning to second guess his own version of events. Things might have ended differently right then because the Elfin, despite his height, was starting to become slightly menacing in his appearance. Wort, ever the peacemaker, tried to ease ruffled egos.

"Tweedlewink, I'm sure you've got your reasons for wanting to blow up the Piglets lair but unfortunately we really don't have the time. You see, we're on a mission for Mother Nature and she told us to go find Father Time and deliver a message."

At the mention of the Queen's title the Elfin became more interested.

"What's the message?"

"Sorry, we're not allowed to tell anyone but Father Time."

The Elfin nodded his head slightly but Stu got the impression they were walking a fine line. He didn't know what one-foot creatures could do but also wasn't such a fool he didn't notice they'd managed to live, even thrive, in the upper lands whereby his people had fled.

"How are you supposed to get there?" Tweedlewink asked.

The question was actually a solid one for the Midglings were perhaps the last creatures on the planet anyone would choose to deliver something of importance. They held no physical gifts, had no magic up their sleeves and were anything but resourceful.

"Well, she gave us these amulets for safe passage..." Wort started.

And the Elfin almost fell to his knees as the Midgling held the necklace out for him to see.

"Holy Mother! You have the power of Nature in your hands!"

The reaction was not what Stu expected for everything changed in rather rapid fashion. They were brought before the Elfin Council where they produced, to the astonishment of everyone, the proof of Mother Nature's blessing and a new round of discussions began.

"Are you sure you heard them speak?"

"Um, yep, I'm pretty sure."

The Elfins, while not in the same realm as the Midglings, were by no means a war-mongering peoples and it was soon decided if the Midglings had the time then it would be greatly appreciated if they would speak to the Piglets about their rooting problem.

"Um, well, we're kind of in a hurry and..."

"Please?"

"Well, you see..."

"Pretty please?"

"Well, I don't know if...?"

"We'll escort you through the forest by the treetops."

Now, Midglings were never the hardiest of beings and were known not for their endurance but for their tenacity. Unfortunately, for Wort and Stu, tenacity was useless in the Breathtaking Forest but endurance a valued commodity. So they agreed to the Elfins' wishes and were soon standing in front of the cave where the Piglets were known to reside.

"In there?" Wort asked for the third time because what he viewed was one of the more sinister-looking openings he'd ever seen.

"Uh-huh, they scamper inside where we cannot follow."

It turned out Elfins were creatures of the light. They lived above ground during daytime and rested among the leaves at night. Tweedlewink said it was because the trees gave off an aura of power from sunlight they'd acquired throughout the day.

"Stu?"

"Yes, Wort?"

"Are you scared?"

"I think I'm petrified!"

And so the two Midglings began making their way to the small entrance of the lair where Piglets held sway hoarding grub from hard-working Elfins with explosive personalities.
Chapter 10: Elvin

The Siege (Castle Nirvana)

He could hear them readying, mounting their steeds, tightening straps, preparing for battle. Waiting with infinite patience earned from a lifetime of practice he heard their leader, the one named Shield, issue orders. He himself was unknown, unnamed and unsighted. He lived for anonymity, relished it, for knowledge of another brought about awareness. His kind avoided such things.

The gate opened and his part began. Slowly, methodical, purposefully he moved for the distance was not great but the perils deadly. A hoof missed his head by no more than a whisper. The final mounts were exiting and the barricade lowering. He had but moments yet stayed the course. Success meant one thing, one outcome; remain invisible or die in the attempt.

He was close, merely a crawl away but he took his time. He thought for a second his cover was blown when two stumbled over him as they fled through the gate. It didn't matter. If he perished it was because he'd estimated wrong, chosen an inadequate distance to cover, and thus no one's blame but his own. He moved his leg a fraction and waited for the answer. The gate slammed down and he felt the aftermath as displaced air touched his senses. He was inside. He waited for his presence to be acknowledged. It wasn't.

Over an hour he spent, moving as moss grew; ever present but out of mind. It took time to cover space without eyes noticing so he settled his thoughts on other things. He allowed the physical to take command and escaped inside where memories and dreams were alive.

Her name was Starlight and she appeared as none before his eyes. She was everything he wished, everything he desired and he would give his life for hers though she knew him not.

He had seen her but once, chained, manacled and fell into infatuation. She was a slave among his kind, one without hopes, without dreams and absent a future. He was determined to change her outcome. If it cost him his life, so be it. He would try, let Lady Death determine his fate and play her hand the way she desired.

Starlight had been captured from a rival faction, one which lost a battle and thus the right to hold their clan intact. Their kind had always lived that way and he thought nothing of the service. He knew the risks, weighed the options and made his choice. She would be his or he would be no more.

The answer had come from Slicer, his commander in the Silent Guild, and he volunteered before the option was given. A ransom of gold in exchange for a soul. He would have his bride and share her life if he took one from another. He readily agreed and started his preparations.

The beginning and end were not difficult. It was the intermediary, the middle part, which held the most danger. He solved it as he had hundreds of others; through observation. The guards on the walls were ever vigilant, ever watchful of the interior courtyard while maintaining eyes on the outside enemy. The Giant in the yard would also keep watch. From gate to tower would be the challenge. He thrived on challenges.

The answer came in the form of color; the stones which made up the fortification. He spent a full day on its design, continually rubbing chalk from rubble surrounding the castle until the cloak held no even pattern, nothing to suggest uniformity, because the eye was always drawn to characteristics of intelligent design.

His mind was still on Starlight when he first felt the wall. The shedding of old and donning of new would need to occur simultaneously yet without visual movement. It took over an hour to adorn the stone-colored cloak and replace, from head to toe, the dusty-dirt colored one he'd worn while laying prone in front of the gate. He could not wear one over the other, the chance a slip of material becoming seen too great. They had hidden in the dirt while the Ogres were trading stones with the Giant inside. The price of success was counted with the dead who had been crushed by rock or hoof.

He was on the wall and made a decision. The Giant was huge, the largest he'd ever seen, but it held the same basic design flaws everyone inherited; its attention would ever be drawn to movement. The soldiers on the wall, no matter how hard they tried, were in constant motion. The Giant's eyes would scan upward so he chose to remain near the bottom.

Using the spaces between the stones he dug finger-holds and began inching his way across the wall. He would traverse the courtyard and reach the tower which held his goal, his victim, his beloved's sacrifice. He'd estimated time, distance and the defensive measures taken to prevent one of his kind from attempting what he would accomplish. The torches were lit while he was halfway across and he knew he'd chosen correctly.

The courtyard had been swept clean, a necessary precaution to detect outsiders entering the castle proper. Nothing had been missed, nothing left out of place, nothing for an assassin to hide behind. It wouldn't matter. Death's hand dealt the cards and his love would live at the expense of another. The Giant was the key.

He could feel the behemoth, sense its presence while he used its visage to further his gain. He'd crossed the wall, moved to ground and used what was provided for cover. Once again, he donned the dust-dirt cloak and inched his way across the yard in the shadow of the Giant. A shadow formed from the flame of the torch behind the enormous being.

He had time because the attack had given him so. They'd chosen dusk, just as the sun set, so he held it in abundance. He would need it all. The tower was the last hurdle. At the top, guarded on the inside by servants lay the answer to his dreams, the solution to his problem, his meaning for life. Kill her and Starlight would live free. He would take the outside route.

Six hours passed as he traveled a distance all could cover in a minute. As he inched up the tower exterior he shed the dust-dirt cloak, leaving it behind, invisible in the darkness, blended perfectly with the courtyard material. He wore only the stone-colored cloth, meters away from the monster who could hurl boulders with ease. He had four hours of darkness and felt time slipping away but still held his progress true. He could make his mark and live to see her beauty but only if none saw his passage. He allowed his body to again control its own as he returned to the place of memories.

He had been tested at an early age, all were, for his was the ultimate sacrifice in their society; a place of honor which held prestige without acknowledgement. The Assassins Guild had achieved immortality and fame through stealth, secrecy and efficient if sometimes breathtaking cruelty. Few knew when they first began but those who rose through their ranks were reared the same. Stealth, cunning, patience and expertise in death's deliverance were practiced by all, learned by some, employed by fewer less. Those who failed to master the craft were left behind, cut down by those who did. He had achieved what so many had not. He was a master, an assassin, death.

The turning moment had come as he stalked another, one of his own, who had displeased the elders of his kind. He was in the darkness, unseen, unheard, a shadow within the shadows. The marketplace was full of activity as she was brought forth and put on display for those who favored subjugation of others. His breath caught as she raised her head to stare defiantly at any who would tame her. She was an intoxication, something he hadn't known to exist and his will was almost broken. It hadn't been for long. She was purchased after a frenzy of bidding had risen her price to that of an empress. In order to free her he would need that of an empire. He vowed it would be so. His vow had become reality. Mother Nature's life was precious indeed.

He was at the top, holding on by fingertips as he reached the edge. He had two windows to choose from and chose the left, the one further from the bed. He moved with the same steady and slow rhythm but his heart began to beat faster. His answer was in sight. She lay asleep, oblivious to the danger, unaware her life would allow two to become one. He was at the threshold and moved inside, intent on finishing the deed, resolute on freeing his love.

He held only one weapon because invisibility was more important than offensive tools. He'd been trained to employ anything to perform the task so unnecessary equipment was discarded in favor of silence. He was there. He was ready. Death had played her hand and he held the high card. He moved as a shadow along the back wall until he stood beside the bed. He looked down and agreed; she was indeed a most beautiful of creatures. He pulled the knife and prepared to set his future free. As the blade appeared he saw an omen shine off the polished steel. He looked up with wonder at the starlight which beamed through the window. It was his last thought; the remembrance of his love which was on his mind as the light was terminated, cut off by the arrow which flew through the opening and ended his life.

Hawkeye lowered the bow and stood still. He was on the wall, keeping an eye inward while all others faced enemies outside. He'd waited and worried his plan would fail but saw no other way. He was somewhat amazed the man had been able to reach the room without detection but not surprised; the Assassins Guild was legendary in ability.

Gaia Nature rose from the bed and looked upon the man who tried to end her life. She felt pity for the being. All life was sacred and those who took it were forfeit yet, still, she held sympathy in her heart. As she lowered a cloth to cover the body she took solace the man appeared at ease. On his face was the last expression he held, the last he would ever hold; a slight smile as if remembering a very pleasant dream.
Chapter 11: Tournament

The Second Journey (Blight's Encampment)

They met at the rendezvous point. Deadaim had been waiting, thinking of the friend he knew would find his message and act accordingly. They'd met as adversaries, tested each other in combat and walked away as equals. Both were secure in the knowledge neither had ever known a better marksman. It had started, of course, the way all had begun; two rulers ordering others to fight for their gain.

Deadaim had been employed by Queen Victorious. Hawkeye by her sister, Empress Elizabest. Both were arrogant, insulting, demanding and completely hapless in the ways of warfare so they surrounded themselves with others who were knowledgeable and they, in turn, chose to unleash their best weapons to prevail. The two had entered the fray and from afar brought havoc on the other side's soldiers. It didn't matter the defenses for none were sufficient where the two archers were concerned. The toll taken was unsustainable for while mercenaries would fight to the end they would not do so sitting in defenseless positions as shafts of death rained down from locations unknown. A bargain was struck and the deadly duo ordered to return and determine the outcome before both armies were lost through sniper-like efficiency and mercenary abandonment. The event was held for all to see and a circus-like atmosphere sprang to life.

"Quiet! Quiet! Everyone shut up so we can get on with the tournament!" the herald yelled.

They were in an arena erected when the two Monarchs agreed the battle would be decided by which archer was supreme.

Things settled down and the man continued.

"On this side, representing Queen Victorious, is an archer of renown, a man who needs no introduction, the one, the only...!" he paused for effect.

"Deadaim!"

And the mercenaries in Victorious' employ erupted with mighty vigor because not only would they receive their earnings for triumph without fighting but also were heavily involved in side-bets with their competing brethren opposing them.

"And on this side, representing Empress Elizabest, we have another who needs no introduction, another who is legendary in name, the undisputed, undefeated, Original archer of the world...!" again, pause for effect.

"Hawkeye!"

And the mercenaries in her employ burst out with cheers for they too were more than happy to earn their income without the unwanted addition of actually battling for the prize.

The two archers bowed to their respected authorities, walked up to the other, touched bows and turned to face the first challenge.

"We will now begin the Bull's-eye phase of the competition!"'

As the target was brought out the Monarchs were, unsurprisingly, sitting together in the top balcony erected for their comfort.

"It's very nice to see you again, Victoria."

"You too, Eliza."

"Are those new shoes you're wearing?"

"Yes! Aren't they adorable? I found this new cobbler in the village..."

As everyone widely knew the two were actually on very good terms. They had grown up in the lap of luxury and were only fighting because the other rulers in the kingdoms would find it odd if they weren't.

With the target in place the competition began.

"Up first, Deadaim!"

He pulled the string taut, sighted the one-inch circular spot and let fly. It hit dead center and Victoria's side jumped to their feet to taunt their opposition.

"Up next, Hawkeye!"

It was a mirror-image execution of his opponent's shot. When it split the arrow in the circle Eliza's side leapt to their feet and returned their opposition's teasings.

"And again, Deadaim!"

What followed left the audience speechless for two reasons. First, each time their archer shot they knew for certain he could not be beaten for his arrow would pierce the one which had previously pierced the one which had previously been pierced by another. Secondly, they began to realize they were witness to something which had never before and, in all likelihood, never again be seen; two quivers of arrows, twenty-four in all, unloaded unerringly into the exact same spot by two archers who were perfection in marksmanship.

"Um... okay. I declare the first phase to be a tie!" the Herald screamed and no one objected for they were all sitting in shock at what they had seen.

"The next phase is the moving target competition!"

The prisoners were brought forth and, of course, both pelted with produce and mocked by the spectators. They didn't care. They were the small time crooks, the ones who'd committed petty thefts or unwise cons and jailed for their offenses. They'd been offered a choice; participate in the tournament and go free or don't and do whatever time they had remaining. Most, at first, balked at the idea of being used as moving targets until the rules were explained to them. They would put an apple on their head which would be kept in place by twine tied under their chin. Absolutely no one was willing to do the deed until the contestant's names were announced. Afterward a lottery was held for every prisoner volunteered to do a duty which they knew was un-fraught with danger.

"Up first, Hawkeye!"

While the knowledge of the archer's fame was intellectually comprehended the truth was the prisoner had a few reservations about walking across a field as the contestant took aim from a hundred meters away to remove the fruit. He did walk because refusal meant receiving a different, yet similar, fate; facing a full squad of archers aiming a little lower than those in the competition. He moved, Hawkeye shot, an apple split in two and the crowd went wild.

"Up next, Deadaim!"

And the audience again sat in wonder as the two put on an exhibition previously thought impossible. Neither missed. It got to the point where the prisoners were actually having a good time because after each successful shot a cheer would arise and it became infectious. Near the end straws were drawn not to avoid wearing the ripe little red target but the opposite. They were so sure of their safety they wished to feel the thrill of the crowd's ovation.

"Okay, I guess we have another tie!" the Herald hollered.

The crowd wholeheartedly agreed.

"The final phase is the speed round!"

The idea was simple. Two targets were set up ten meters apart and a cloth placed over both. When the cloth was pulled the time began and both men would fire as many missiles into their targets as possible. The segment ended when a single rope was pulled. It was tied to both targets so they would fall at the same time. Whoever hit their target most would be declared the victor.

"Ready!"

Two bows were raised.

"Set!"

Two strings drawn taut.

"Fire!"

And the silenced which followed was mesmerizing. No one spoke for a full minute and then everyone asked the same question at the same time.

"Did you see that?"

The rope was never pulled. The man responsible saw no reason because what transpired made it pointless. In less time than it took a man to mount a horse both archers unleashed their full complement into the targets. Every single one hit center mass. Even the women in charge of the armies were in awe and reportedly uttered the same response.

"I wish I wasn't betrothed."

The crowd regained their composure and went berserk. The place was wild with delight at what they'd witnessed and secret promises were made to always carry white flags for quick surrender waving if they ever found themselves facing either archer. As the spectators were buzzing in wondrous amazement the two who caused it all moved toward the other. People began to fall silent as the men met in the middle of the arena. They waited in wonder as the two spoke, shook hands, then proceeded to make their way toward the targets which lay still with arrows quivering in the middle. A small knot of worry began to be heard.

"What are they doing?" Victoria asked.

"I don't know" Eliza answered.

In everyone's life there came a time when they wished to test their metal. What the crowd was beginning to realize was the two who had no equal were curious if it were so. They each took one arrow from their targets and moved fifty paces away.

"Are they...?"

"No, they couldn't be, could they?"

The air in the arena grew thick as all realized they were about see something they previously would've paid a month's wages for. The competition had altered their views.

"Someone stop this!" someone yelled.

And two tried.

"As your Queen, I forbid this!"

"As your Empress, I order you to stop!"

The two men ignored their sovereigns for they knew the truth; in the arena, in the realm of their chosen occupations no one held authority above them.

The crowd began to rise as worry turned to anxiety and finally horror at what they were about to witness. The Herald was silent, glancing toward the Monarchs with questioning eyes asking what he was to do. An uneasy feeling of something wrong, something abhorrent filled the stands and the whispering began.

"One!" Hawkeye yelled.

The whispering halted.

"Two!" Deadaim screamed.

The arena froze.

Three was never shouted. The cadence was set, so they lifted their bows, pull their strings and released their deaths. Both stood still wondering if their beliefs were correct. They were. The arrows met in the middle, point struck point and two who had never met their match walked away satisfied they had, indeed, met their challenge.

He heard them coming before they arrived.

"Deadaim?" a quiet voice asked

"Over here, Sergeant."

The three again became one as Savage, Brutus, and Deadaim went in search of Midglings who might hold the promise of retribution in their hands.
Chapter 12: Toodrake's Design

The Siege (Blight's Encampment)

Prince Blight was in a lather, foaming from the mouth and berating the poor Orc who happened to be in his vicinity when the news broke.

"You overgrown, pot-bellied, sty-dwelling excretion! You bug-eyed, pug-nosed, pointy-eared secretion! You knobby-kneed...!"

The information had come by way of rock with a note and knife attached. Goliath had obviously been the one who threw the stone for it traveled a quarter-mile before landing with a thud in the center of the Prince's encampment. The message was both clear and unsettling.

Nice try. Now it's our turn

It was signed by General Shield himself.

Everyone who saw the note was perplexed until an Elvin recognized the blade as one used by their own. Slicer was then informed of the situation.

"Your Highness?"

"Yes."

"Our assassin has failed."

The news came as a shock because the Elvin reputation was such that bookies gave odds of fifty to one an assassination would occur if the perimeter was breached. The Prince was no exception.

"How could he fail?" he screamed.

"He couldn't" Slicer replied.

"Then why is his knife sitting on my desk?"

The Elvin were amazed as everyone for they themselves had never heard of an attempt not completed once the killer attained a foothold inside.

"I do not have an answer, Your Highness."

The camp was abuzz with the Elvin failure and creatures of all sizes began to question whether victory was possible. They were still vast in numbers but had not made a dent in the Queen's army. Disenrollment was becoming a problem, especially among the mercenaries for their prize was not the thrill of ravage but the gleam of gold.

"Where are you going?"

"Home."

"But you won't get your payment."

"At this rate my grandchildren won't live long enough to see my payment."

Morale among the more intelligent species was at an all-time low. Impressive work considering while in the Prince's employ most could count on one hand the number of times they'd smiled in the previous month. The Ogres, Orcs and Trolls, of course, felt no change in the situation for they were never in good moods to begin with.

The Troll Toodrake was hiding amongst his own kind when the messenger finally found him.

"Toad! The Prince calls for you!" the mercenary screamed and Toodrake envisioned swallowing him whole.

Toodrake was not enjoying the moment. He'd been unable to find Sergeant Savage and knew the Prince would be displeased. He didn't like the idea of being berated and liked even worse the fact it would come from one with such an expansive vocabulary. The Prince's power, that of bringing sullenness and depression through oration was not as effective on the lesser-intelligent in his army because, at times, they stood there pondering just what in the world the Monarch meant. Toodrake, unfortunately in that particular situation, could understand the Prince and would question whether or not Blight was correct when he spoke of Trolls' places in society as one of wandering the land eating mold and mildew so others could walk with clean feet.

As he neared the tent he heard the raised voice of Prince Blight ring out.

"I need an explanation, Slicer! How could it have failed?"

Toodrake moved closer to listen from the outside.

"It should not have failed, Your Highness. Once inside my kind cannot be stopped, we cannot be thwarted for we cannot be found."

"Well, obviously you're wrong!"

Toodrake's mind was racing. Something he'd heard but couldn't recall was attempting to break through. He knew it important which was why he was having difficulty with the process. Troll minds were notorious at withholding information.

"Your Highness, my kind have never failed with the objective in sight. The one who entered was a master, an assassin not only in name but deed. He would not be caught, he would not be seen unless somehow the others were aware of his presence. If that were so they were forewarned and never would have allowed their Queen to be put in such a position. They would not have attacked our forces because they would have known we were waiting for the gate to open."

There was a pause of silence from the inside which allowed Toodrake to concentrate a little harder, giving himself a headache in the process, which finally brought to the forefront of his limited cortex the information he had been trying to recall. He smiled when it arrived.

"And you don't think a second attempt will succeed?"

"No, Your Highness. With the death of my kind it is apparent they knew he was inside. There is only one explanation."

"What is that?"

"They have an informant inside our ranks."

Toodrake waited at the entrance for the correct time to divest his knowledge for the most dramatic effect. He was formulating plans to both enhance his position and deal with a Human he detested more than all others.

"Who do think it is?" he heard the Prince ask.

"I cannot say, Your Highness. My men are above suspicion for it is beyond their ability to inform on our own kind. The beasts are too..."

He paused seeking the right words.

"... dull of thought to comprehend our plans and the mercenaries have no reason to side with the others for they would only be prolonging their payment."

Toodrake felt the time was right.

"You dare to interrupt!" the Prince screamed as the Troll opened the flap and entered.

He knew he was on shaky ground so bowed his head to firm position.

"I am sorry, Your Highness, but I have information I feel you would wish to hear immediately."

He waited for permission to proceed, permission to further his power, permission to manipulate.

"What information?" Blight said in a sneering voice.

The time was right, Toodrake felt it, so he let loose his design.

"Savage warned the Queen, Your Highness. He had Deadaim send a message to the one called Hawkeye, a scout in Mother Nature's army. A message warning an assassin was on the way" he replied neither knowing nor caring if it were true.

He had come to the realization it wouldn't matter. The Prince would want a head for the failure and Savage would be a perfect candidate. He also knew one other detail which set his mind at ease.

"Savage?" Slicer asked.

"Yes" he responded.

He watched as the Elvin's eyes went cold. Two events were taking place as he waited for the Prince to make his decision. First, Blight would need to choose a new leader for his army. Toodrake wasn't a fool, he knew it wouldn't be him but he also knew the Prince would remember it was he who learned of Savage's treachery and would entrust him with more authority than just a lap-dog to the new commander. He wasn't worried about the Elvin taking control for the second reason; Elvin creed. The very rules which governed their entire way of life would come into play for Savage had done the unthinkable; interfered in Elvin business and would be dealt with according to Elvin law. He watched as Slicer took permission to leave.

"You have done good Toodrake, you will be rewarded" he heard the Prince say.

He paid it little attention for he was thinking pleasanter thoughts, thoughts which made his heart beat with anticipation; Savage would die. Slicer was on the hunt. No one challenged the Assassins Guild and lived to talk about it.
Chapter 13: Making Good Neighbors

The First Journey (Breathtaking Forest)

The inside of the cave was dark, cool and clammy.

"Hey, this isn't so bad!"

"Uh-huh, uh-huh, I was thinking the exact same thing!"

The Midglings were standing in the middle of the cavern, looking around with eyes adjusting to the lesser light.

"You know what?"

"What?"

"If we live through this we should return and make this our home. We could put a table and a few chairs in the corner and maybe a rug on the floor."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh, I see where you're going and I'm liking the idea."

As the two were talking of remodeling techniques they somewhat forgot the reason for their visit.

"You know what would go perfect in here?"

"What?"

"A fordinner."

"A fordinner?"

"Uh-huh."

"What's a fordinner?"

"I don't know? What's a you cooking?"

As the Midglings laughed at absurd humor they were interrupted.

"Excuse me."

"Yaagh!" they screamed before fainting.

They awoke to nudging; cold, wet, pug-nosed insistence.

"Come on, wake up already!"

They opened their eyes and remembered the reason they were in the cave. They regained their senses, climbed to their feet and proceeded with introductions.

"Hi, I'm Stu and this is my friend, Wort. We were sent here to find a solution to your dilemma with the Elfin."

The three Piglets facing them were about eighty pounds of pink, obese pork products who were looking on with rapt amazement as creatures on two feet spoke to them.

"How can you talk our language?" one asked.

"Well, we're on a mission for Mother Nature and she gave us these amulets which apparently allow us to communicate with you."

The Piglets were amazed. In all the time they'd been trying to speak with those who walked upright they were rebuffed in their efforts. After a short period of time further introductions were given.

"My name is Squeal and these are my brothers, Screech and Grunt."

Nods were given instead of handshakes because the Piglets preferred to keep all four hoofs on the ground in case rapid escape became an issue.

"The Elfin sent you here?" Squeal asked.

"Uh-huh" Stu said.

The Piglet eyed him a bit closer. In fact, the three Piglets eyed the two Midglings with much closer scrutiny.

"Um... what's the problem?"

"We're trying to see where the explosives are."

Both Midglings laughed until it became apparent the Piglets were not joking.

"Oh, hey, wait a minute. We didn't bring any explosives with us. We're here to talk and see if we can come to a reasonable solution so you and the Elfin can coexist as friends" Stu said with hands raised to show the universal sign of not carrying blasting material.

"Us and the Elfin coexist as friends?" Grunt asked with a snort.

"Uh-huh. The Elfin asked us to see if we'd speak to you about... um..."

"About what?"

"Okay, don't take this wrong, but they seem to think you steal their food."

The Piglets snorted. It was a little weird to Stu and Wort because they didn't know what snorting meant.

"Um, we don't know what that meant?"

"It means they've got no right to be calling us thieves. Shoot, they've got no right to call us anything after all they've done" Squeal answered indignantly.

Stu wasn't positive but felt he knew what the Piglet referred to.

"Do you mean the blowing-up-your-house thing?"

"Of course I mean the blowing-up-our-house thing! It's a pretty important issue in the whole grand scheme of things!"

Stu could readily agree. House explosion was a rather big deal in Midgling society and he was quickly surmising it was also important in the Piglet community.

"Okay, um, we're here to help so maybe it would further our cause if you could explain how the problems between you and the Elfin started."

It turned out the Piglets lived in the area first. They were foraging for food one day and when they returned home they found their house on fire and the Elfin on their land.

"They burnt your house down?"

"Well, I don't think they meant to burn it down but it tends to happen when you explode straw."

"Your house was made of straw?"

"Yes, we're Piglets, we don't really have the ability to use woodworking equipment so we did what we could and carried straw in our mouths to build us a nice and tidy home."

Squeal went on to explain the Elfin were not exactly the best of neighbors.

"They just stole your land?"

"Uh-huh. Well, they called it annexation for the betterment of society but so far as we can tell the only society benefitting is the Elfin kind."

It turned out the Piglets tried to seek a compromise but the Elfin were not in the mood to listen.

"Why don't you bring it up with Mother Nature?" Wort asked.

"Are you insane? There's people in her castle!"

"So?"

"So? The second people see us they begin drooling at the mouth and reaching for knives!"

The Midglings were coming to the conclusion Piglet life wasn't all too different from their own. They both were rather limited in their fighting ability which caused them difficulties holding housing opportunities which led to cave dwelling. There was something bothering them, though.

"Um, I'm not sure how to say this without sounding kind of cruel but..." Stu began.

"Go ahead, spit it out" Squeal urged.

"Well, I understand why the Elfin can't blow up this cave because the walls are so solid but why don't they just come in here and chase you away?"

Both Midglings were curious because it was quite obvious the Piglets were not made of fighting material. They were about a foot and a half in height on all fours with tiny little hooves for feet. Their bellies extended toward the ground with only inches to spare and they had corkscrew tails which continually moved with flight-like preparation. There was absolutely nothing about them which indicated an aggressive nature. Their voices were lilty, their teeth made for chewing roots and their ears designed in aerodynamic fashion for running away at the first sign of trouble.

"They can't come in here."

"Why not?"

"Because of Berta."

"Who's Berta?"

"I'm Berta" growled the answer.

They were a little more difficult to wake the second time for Midglings were made for fainting. They were further made for prolonged unconsciousness if the reason for the act came from a creature capable of eating them in one bite. She appeared out of darkness, emerging from a tunnel difficult to see in the dim light. She was a big, burly, beautiful brown bear.

"Is this normal?" Stu heard the bear ask as he faked the last portion of his fainting spell.

"Um, yep, I think this is what these creatures do when they're scared" he heard Squeal answer.

Stu chanced a peek and barely opened one eye to verify if what he thought was real. He closed it shut upon discovering that, yep, a big brown bear was indeed in the cave discussing his and Wort's preferred escape mechanism.

"How long till they wake up?" he heard the bear, Berta, ask.

"I don't know? Last time it was much shorter."

He was prepared to fake-faint all day if necessary and knew Wort would be of the same mind.

"Well, if they don't wake up in about thirty seconds I'm going to eat them."

They were not, however, the kind of beings who were willing to call a bear's bluff so were instantly on their feet, quivering in their boots, facing an animal whose reputation for Midgling consumption was off the charts. Midgling society had moved underground into caverns where bears sometimes roamed. They were not the preferred prey of the furry beasts because it took three of them to satisfy a bear's hunger and they were quite quick when their lives were on the line and fainting not an option. But bears were bears and Midglings were Midglings so when one met the other snack-time generally followed.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to eat you."

"Oh thank God!"

"Praise the Lord!"

Introductions were given all around and soon the reason for Berta's presence was revealed.

"They bring me food and I eat Elfin if they set foot in this cave."

The Piglets had found a friend in the she-bear because she held another trait which the Midglings wished they encountered more often.

"I'm a Care-Bear."

It turned out a certain segment of bear community were the kind which preferred resolution to warfare, peace over hostility and good-will among friends. They felt kindred toward the other half, the ones who were generally eaten, so they abstained from meat and thrived on fruits and grain. The Piglets had taken the opportunity to befriend her and went racing away every day to rustle up grub from the Elfin before the Wearwolf arrived and scared them back to the cave.

"Um, you do know it's not a wolf, right?" Wort asked the quieter Piglet.

"Yep" Grunt replied.

"Then why do you run away?"

"Because we're Piglets."

The answer appeared to satisfy everyone's curiosity except the Midgling's but since they were socially conscious beings who disliked insulting others they let it go and Stu asked a somewhat different question.

"Um, okay, please don't take this the wrong way but why don't you just forage in the woods instead of taking the Elfin food?"

The four set of eyes, three Piglets and one Care-Bear, immediately went cold at the idea.

"What? What did I say?"

The explanation came from Berta.

"First, the Elfin have no right to the land they claim their own. They took it when the Piglets were away and used some weird Law of Nature to confiscate the turf. Second, they're an amazingly annoying species who seem to spy on everything for some reason no one can explain. Third, they are the worst guests you have ever seen."

The third explanation seemed to need more explanation.

"Huh?"

Berta then related her first meeting with the Elfin.

"We were sitting down to slurp some pourage..."

"Porridge? You eat oatmeal?" Wort asked.

"No, not porridge; pourage. You know, the stuff which trickles down from the roof of the cave after a good rainfall. Well, anyway, one time while me Teddy and Scout..."

Midglings were horrible story-telling recipients because they required constant clarification.

"I'm sorry to interrupt but who are Teddy and Scout?"

"Teddy was my mate, a real doll of a bear, and we had a baby cub, Scout."

"Oh, uh, are they here too?"

Her eyes took on a melancholy expression as she explained they were not.

"Where'd they go?"

Her eyes again went said.

"Well, we're not exactly the bond-for-life kind of species. Teddy got bored and Scout moved out the first chance he got."

The Midglings felt sorry for the Care-Bear because it seemed she truly was hurt by their absence.

"Anyway, one time when the three of us were slurping our pourage an Elfin arrived at the entrance to the cave. We felt kind of sad for the little critter and invited him in to get out of the rain. After entering he asked with hand-gestures if a few friends could also come inside, we grunted yes, and the next thing you know we're up to our necks with those burdensome creatures. They were running around, poking their heads in every nook and cranny and basically just making a real nuisance of themselves. Now, I was willing to ignore their ways because, well, some creatures were just born with improper manners but when the nitpicking came out I had enough."

"Nitpicking?" Wort inquired.

"Yes, nitpicking. Those little nitpickers started making rude comments like 'Your pourage is too cold' or 'Your bed is too hard', stuff like that, so I told Teddy to ask them to leave."

She ended her story but Midgling curiosity was aroused and they needed further information.

"You can speak to the Elfin?"

"No, but we can definitely make our case known."

Wort wasn't sure what that meant so she provided the answer by rushing forward which sent him backward and he then fully understood her point. After regaining his composure he queried further.

"And did they?"

"Did they what?"

"Did they leave?"

"Most of them."

She again ended the story but again the Midglings were unsatisfied.

"Most of them?" Stu asked.

"Yes."

"Some stayed even after you, uh, asked them to leave?"

"Well, yes and no. Some stayed but probably not in the manner you're thinking. You see, Teddy felt they needed a little prodding to heed his advice."

"Prodding?"

"Uh-huh, he ate a couple of them and before you knew it we had the place all to ourselves."

After a couple of seconds standing with mouths open in revulsion the two adventurers from Mother Nature's castle finally got around to problem solving. They decided on a plan which held promise and all left the cave to offer a compromise.

"Okay, the Piglets have agreed not to root through your gardens if you would set aside a little of your grain so they and Berta could have dinner every night."

The Elfin did not seem to like the compromise.

"Why should we do that? What do we gain from it?" a particularly snide Elf replied.

Stu translated their response to the Piglets and Care-Bear.

"You gain our friendship" Berta responded and Stu again translated for the Elfins' benefit.

"Friendship? What do we care about your...?"

Stu didn't translate because the tone used was easily understood even if the words were not which caused the Care-Bear to break her vow of vegetarianism and swallow the one-foot nuisance in a single gulp. Everyone stood in shock as she smacked her lips and let out a little belch.

"Okay, friendship it is" answered Tweedlewink.

And the Breathtaking Forest once again became a place of peace as Elfin agriculturalism fed Piglet hunger to avoid Care-Bear ingestion. With the problem solved the Elfin followed through on their promise of transporting the Midglings through the treetops but ran into a slight hiccup.

"Man, you guys are heavy!"

"My goodness! How much do you eat?"

It took eight Elfin to carry the load of each portly adventurer and a blindfold employed to keep them from fainting. Limp Midglings were a burden no one wanted to carry. After six hours of treetop swinging and occasional Midgling vomiting they arrived at the edge of the forest.

"Thank you very much for the ride, Tweedlewink" Stu said.

"You're welcome."

"Well, if your ever in Mother Nature's castle..." he began.

"I'll look you up" the Elfin ended with a smile on his face.

Stu and Wort took a second to catch their breaths because treetop travel was unsettling to say the least. They glanced through the wood-line and viewed the vast expanse which was the Land of Lawlessness. Both were a little anxious to step out of the security provided by the Elfin.

"You two need to get going" Tweedlewink remarked and something in the way he said it caused Wort to worry.

"Why?"

"Because the Elfin grapevine just reported three men entering the forest and they seem to be paying particular attention to the footprints you left behind."

So the two Midglings left the Breathtaking Forest, continuing their quest to find Father Time and deliver Mother Nature's message. They were a little disoriented from the ride, something they'd never before encountered and so it could be forgiven their slight oversight of one small detail, one minor little item which was overlooked; Wort's amulet was no longer around his neck.
Chapter 14: Robbing Hood

The Second Journey (Breathtaking Forest)

The trail was picked up with ease because those in front were not attempting to hide their progress.

"Are you sure about this, Sergeant?"

Savage wasn't. He was taking a leap of faith but felt it held the chance of success for his reasoning was solid.

"I think so, Brutus. The two Midglings ran out just as the gate was closing. Now, why do you think they would do that?"

Brutus enjoyed playing devil's advocate because it gave him a chance to verbally spar. Brutus was a barbarian through necessity, he was an aspiring intellect through natural curiosity.

"Maybe they were just running away?"

"Midglings? Running out of a guarded castle into the field of battle?"

Brutus had already discounted his own line of questioning but was playing along because both he and Savage enjoyed the idea of challenging prevailing thought.

"Maybe they were kicked out?"

"Do you really think Mother Nature would evict two helpless creatures in the middle of a siege?"

Savage had informed his partners of what he believed the purpose of the Midgling's escape to be.

"I think they're going for help. I think Mother Nature sent them out to find reinforcements."

When he'd seen the two leave through the gate he'd quickly surmised the attack on the command post was a ruse; an intended event to cause attention to be drawn from the castle so the Midglings could slip away. He'd sent Deadaim to find their trail. It took the archer all of five minutes to determine their probable direction of travel, memorize the shapes of their boots, the length of their strides, the depth of their prints and proceed to the rendezvous site. They'd met up, left in the direction Deadaim believed the Midglings traveled and soon had their trail. It led them directly to the Breathtaking Forest.

"I hate this place" Brutus intoned.

"Why?" Savage asked.

"Elfin."

"Oh, yeah, good point."

Elfin were a necessary nuisance to most in Mother Nature's realm. They were industrious, hard-working, amazingly productive and the most annoying busybodies in the world. They were constantly eying everything anyone did and were extremely intrusive in manners which others would like to keep secret.

"All right, this should be a good place to hide my gold."

"Hi, how are you? What're you putting in that hole?"

They were ever present even when not seen. They could hide virtually anywhere, had the ability to communicate through the Elfin grapevine and were anything but subtle in conversation.

"Where have you been?"

"I was at work."

"No he wasn't. He was at that tavern with his buddies."

They prided themselves as the forest's keepers. They monitored everything and let nothing go unnoticed.

"Did you dig a hole and cover it up?"

"Um... yes."

"No he didn't! He just squatted down, did his business, and left a big old stinking pile on the ground!"

If it weren't for the fact they were such amazing food producers and held Mother Nature's support the rest of the denizens in her kingdom would've run the little tattletales off before they ever managed to gain a foothold.

"Sergeant?"

"Yes, Brutus?"

"What are we going to do when we catch up to them?"

The question had been lingering on Savage's mind for some time and he'd come down to two lines of thought; either help them and thus help Mother Nature or capture them and regain favor in Prince Blight's eyes. He considered a third for only an instant and then discarded the idea. Killing Midglings was something he could live his entire life without and be content doing so. The problem he was having came down to heart versus brain. He disliked the Prince, didn't trust the Monarch and was really miffed the regal blowhard thought he could get away with ordering his and his men's execution. On the other hand, the Prince was definitely in the advantageous position. There really was no way for Queen Nature to win because her forces were so much smaller than Blight's. Over time, his army would prevail. It might take a month or even a year but the numbers were such that even with a tripling of Nirvana's forces the Prince would merely call on his father and the army of Blight would grow exponentially. Unless some dramatic twist of fate, some unforeseen circumstance occurred the winner of the game would be Blight and by proxy his father, King Rot.

"I haven't figured that one out yet, Brutus."

Brutus nodded his head in acknowledgment. It was another thing he liked about Savage; the man admitted to not knowing everything. It was not so with most who led as he knew all too well. The time had been early in his mercenary days and the man he worked for took gold from a king to rid the land of thieves.

"I want them all dead!"

So they'd ridden out to end the robbers reign and soon found themselves in hot pursuit of a man on horseback.

"Um, Sheriff Hood?"

"What do you want, Barbarian?"

He didn't particularly like the tone of voice the Sheriff used but was happy enough with the pay to ignore the timbre and asked his question.

"Okay, I don't mean to challenge your line of reasoning but..."

"But what?"

"Well, don't you find it a little strange twenty men on horseback could surprise one man on a secluded path in the middle of the King's forest?"

They had ridden out with all the fanfare the King could provide which meant a few tavern waitresses waved handkerchiefs as they passed by. They galloped down a dirt path with the stealth of blind water-buffalos and came across a man who was sitting on a horse with a few rabbits strung on his saddle. The thievery the King was trying to end was the peasants who thought so little of his rule they would break his law and actually enter his private hunting ground in search of food. The fact they were starving held little interest to the King for he was their Monarch and they were supposed to be willing to die for him. Some informed him the consent was only meant for the battlefield but he relegated that as uninformed information and had their heads removed.

"He's a thief, Barbarian!"

Again, Brutus declined to take insult at the smarmy voice inflection and proceeded to explain his thought process.

"Uh-huh, yep, he sure is that, Sheriff. But don't you find it a little strange he would be sitting on a path with the proof of his deeds out in the open for all too see and only fled after we'd rounded the curve and spotted him?"

They were in full chase mode with the horses up front urged on by those behind. Brutus was in the back beside Sherriff Hood who generally despised the idea of a leader being in front so issued orders from the rear. Many believed it was cowardice but the Sheriff felt he could get a better grasp on any situation if he had the whole picture. Also, people in the front tended to die first and issuing orders after death seemed a difficult process to pull off.

"Maybe he's hard of hearing? Maybe he's dull of eyesight? Maybe he's just a common everyday thief who got caught pilfering from the King's personal woods? Did you think of that, Barbarian?"

The man's inflections were growing weary but, again, he held his tongue because gold bought the Sheriff a few insults.

"Um, yes, those are all possible reasons, Sheriff. But if I might make one observation?"

They were rounding a curve, dirt flying high and adrenalin coursing through veins.

"What? What observation, Barbarian?"

"Well, if you were to set an ambush, where would you situate archers along a dirt path with trees on all sides?"

Hood had not become Sheriff by riding to his death when obvious insight entered his brain. He glanced forward and came to the conclusion if he were to ambush a bunch of men on horseback he would place his archers in the tree-line where a blind bend in the roadway occurred; a blind bend such as the one his men were at that moment entering.

"Whoa!" he yelled while pulling desperately on the reigns of his mounted steed. Brutus followed suit and both sat there as eighteen riders were used as pincushions for archery practice by thieves stealing for survival.

"Um, okay, we're going to need some new men."

So they rounded up some new men and were again decimated by arrows shot from trees, knocked off horses by swinging logs and generally rebuffed in every attempt to gain an advantage over the ragtag group of thieves who were, not surprisingly, in quite the merry mood after each such encounter.

"Good luck next time!"

"Thanks for the horses!"

It got to the point where Sheriff Hood was running out of men willing to enlist in his crusade so he went to the King and begged for a little more gold to whet appetites and cause men to join his side in the fight for kingly hunting privileges. The King agreed and notices were nailed to posts informing men of the vast rewards to be gained if they signed on to Hood's campaign. It was a resounding success and Brutus immediately went to see the Sheriff.

"Um sir?"

"Yes, Barbarian?"

"Look, you're not going to need my help with all the men you've enlisted so I believe I'll gather my wages and be on the way."

The Sheriff had always been a needy type of man. He needed new clothes, new horses, new jewelry and new wigs to wear at ballroom galas so was not in the mood to part with gold so easily.

"I will pay you when we rid the forest of thieves, Barbarian!"

Brutus decided the man needed a new attitude.

"Urp!"

Barbarians came in all sizes; some large, some larger, and Brutus-sized. It took seconds to extract his payment.

"Thank you, Sheriff."

"Ack!"

He set the Sheriff down, unclasped the man's throat and left the chambers. On the way out he ran across another he couldn't quite place but who seemed a bit familiar.

"Do I know you?" Brutus asked.

"Kind of" the man replied.

He looked closer and realization dawned.

"Oh yes, the rabbit thief."

The man smiled, tipped his hat and asked a question.

"Are you leaving?"

Brutus nodded while responding.

"Yes, I'm not a big fan of chasing peasants who are trying to feed their families."

The man nodded his head indicating he also felt the same way so Brutus asked him a question.

"What are you doing here?"

"I signed on with the Sheriff's posse."

The way he answered caused Brutus to laugh a little and ask again.

"No, seriously, why are you really here?"

The man smiled before responding.

"I'm robbing Hood, of course" he answered as he pulled a dagger and opened the Sheriff's door.

And Brutus smiled again for he knew he was right; the entire posse, the complete contingent of men who'd signed on to the Sheriff's employ were the same merry men who had been taunting them the whole time.

He'd been reminiscing so needed reinforcement he wasn't still doing so.

"Sergeant?"

"Yes, Brutus?"

"Did I just see that?"

"Did you see a bear leading three Piglets across the path while a troop of Elfin with baskets full of fruits and grains followed?"

"Yes."

"Thank God! Because I really thought I might be hallucinating there."

And so the trio of Savage, Brutus and Deadaim remained on the path through the Breathtaking Forest in pursuit of Midglings from Mother Nature's castle.
Chapter 15: Clear Messages

The Siege (Castle Nirvana)

They gathered in the grand ballroom for their nightly sustenance. The conversation was the same at every table.

"An assassin? Blight sent an Elvin inside these walls?"

They ate in shifts, two-thirds manning the fortress, one-third taking comfort in Mother Nature's bounty.

"We should respond in kind."

"Yeah, let him see what it's like to be targeted for extermination."

The murmuring did not go unnoticed.

"General Shield?"

"Yes, Hawkeye?"

"The men wish to return Blight's challenge. They would like to send an assassin of our own to pay back his insult."

The good beings of the realm, those who'd been raised and sired by citizens under righteous rule were of the same mind; assassination was the lowest form of warfare. They felt it a cowardly act, a desperate attempt to gain by deceit what one could not through honest combat.

"Mother Nature would never allow it."

The Queen felt the same. She deplored the practice, shuddered at the maliciousness of the deed and thus would never contemplate employing it on her behalf.

"She would if the assassin was in name only."

General Shield heard his scout out and brought it to Queen Nature's attention.

"And do you think it will work?"

"Yes, My Queen."

"What do you believe the odds it will achieve its purpose?"

"Well, it's Hawkeye we're talking about so..."

"Never mind, you have my approval."

And so Hawkeye and Longshot slipped over the wall in the dead of night to deliver their message to the one who would not follow proper warring protocols. Again it was written on parchment.

"Toodrake!"

"Yes, Your Highness?"

"I said I wanted my ale brought to me in my golden chalice! Does this look like my golden chalice?"

The Troll Toodrake eyed the drinking instrument closer and thought it did, indeed, resemble the Prince's golden chalice but he was wise enough not to challenge the Tyrants eyesight so reached to take the expensive mug from Blight's hand.

"I will fetch you another one immediately, Your..."

Thunk!

The arrow did the job for him. When the Prince held the cup out for Toodrake an arrow split it in two.

"Yaagh!"

When the Troll and Prince finally arose from their prone positions they noticed the note attached to arrow's shaft.

Drink Responsibly!

Prince Blight immediately sent out search-patrols to scour the area and locate the individual who dared place an arrow in the vicinity of royalty.

"Well, what did you find?"

"I'm sorry, Your Highness, we found nobody."

The consensus of his advisors was a rouge element in Nature's army had taken the chance to kill him. Since no one was found they further advised the man had probably sulked away in the dark. The Prince was not at eased and unsatisfied. He sent out another patrol and sat down to sate his hunger.

"Your roast beef, Your Highness."

"It had better be cooked properly!"

He raised the slab to his mouth using bare hands for utensils. He felt the old ways were preferable while living among the beasts. Also, he got a thrill watching the underlings salivate while he delivered the bloody morsel to his taste-buds.

Thunk!

He sat there a second wondering where the hunk of roast tastiness went as it dawned on him.

"Oh no."

And hit the floor so fast others stood wondering if the Prince had somehow partaken of too much ale and decided to sleep where he sat. When they saw the beef pinned to the wall by an arrow they joined him in hugging dirt.

A second note of parchment was later removed and read.

Meat is Murder!

Another patrol was sent out after the second one reported in.

"We found no one, Your Highness."

They were dispatched for dereliction of location and had their heads removed. The mercenary advisors were again summoned and again gave their counsel.

"Maybe we should move the command post."

"Yeah, just till we find the perpetrator and torture him to death."

So the Prince waited while Orcs and Trolls packed up his belongings. At the same time a ruse was set up and other tents were also packed leaving the rear in such disarray when the forces in the front returned to their quarters in the rear they wandered around in bewilderment for they were sure they'd taken the same route back but were unable to locate a single landmark to prove their limited directional abilities correct.

The Prince himself was also camouflaged, donned with lower soldier's attire in an attempt to move him without anyone the wiser. The advisors quickly learned the error of their ways as the Prince, dressed as a lowly infantryman, went about berating all who came before him and basically signaling to any who were watching he was either the bravest recruit ever or a higher ranking individual in disguise. They couldn't do anything about it, though, because the Prince was in such a huff about relocating they felt he would remove the lips of any who dared criticize him so they shut their mouths and hoped for the best.

"Here you are, Your Highness."

"Is my bed turned down?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Are my candles lit?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Are my sentries in position?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

So the Prince decided everything was okay, laid down, pulled the lace sheets over his body and settled his head back on the pillow for a good night's rest."

Thunk!

And rolled onto the floor under the bed.

He lay there for a while, waiting for his sentries to enter and check on his safety. After quite a bit of time expired and no one appeared he realized they had no idea an arrow was stuck in the fluffy pillow barely an inch from where his head had resided. He was in somewhat of perplexion as to what to do, however, because he was afraid to give away his hiding position by screaming for his sentries to do their jobs and die for him. So he raised his hand ever so slowly up the rear of the mattress, felt for his pillow and snatched it down as quickly as he could. Once again, a parchment was attached.

Sweet Dreams!

It went on for days. Every time the Prince began to feel the surprise attacks were over another arrow would arrive with a note attached. It got to the point where he was actually expecting the feather-backed shafts of death and would duck at irregular intervals in order to thwart the assassin who could somehow get off a shot which would miss the Prince by a hair's breath. He would send out patrols who returned empty-handed and then have their heads removed for the failure. As time went by patrols became harder and harder to set up for every time an arrow arrived soldiers would suddenly disappear. He asked his advisers where they went and the answer was rather surprising. They said a sudden burst of loyalty arrived after each note and the men found they would rather visit the front lines than sit by idly in the rear.

"Did he buy it?"

"Yeah, he thinks the mercenaries actually care if he wins or not."

"So are we going to quit sending out patrols?"

"Nope, he's decided to use Orcs instead."

So the Orcs were dispatched which turned out to be an even further failure for they could never quite grasp the concept of locating a specific individual.

"Did you find the assassin?"

"Yes, Your Highness" the Orc grunted.

"Bring him to me!"

And the Orcs did as they were bidden. They soon returned with a rather elderly gentleman in a grungy robe who was screaming obscenities at the top of his lungs.

"What is this?"

"He the assassin, Your Highness."

"That is the cook!"

"He in disguise, Your Highness."

"He's blind!"

"It a very good disguise, Your Highness."

And so the Orcs were removed from patrol duty and new orders issued.

"From now on patrol duty failure will not result in death."

The order did its job and the mercenaries again formed to locate an assassin who was both incredibly skilled and amazingly inaccurate by inches. It might've continued for a few days longer, at least until Hawkeye and Longshot's arrow supply held out, but as with all everyday occurrences, even ones of the life-taking variety, those who lived amidst the activity eventually disregarded what they could not control.

"Toodrake!"

"Yes, Your Highness" the Troll hissed.

"Take this message..."

Thunk!

"... and tell the Orcs..."

Thunk!

"... to bring the Ogres some rocks to throw!"

The Troll Toodrake wasn't sure how to respond. He wasn't positive what his eyes were viewing was actually.

"Um, Your Highness?" he hissed.

"What?"

"There seems to be two arrows imbedded in your throne to the left and right of your head."

"So?"

Toodrake was again at a loss for words. Maybe the Prince enjoyed self-target practice? Maybe he no longer retained control of his senses? He was in a quandary but felt a need to know something specific.

"Your Highness?"

"What?"

"There are notes attached to the arrows."

And the Prince sighed. He'd gotten to the point where the fear of the unknown was a tiring problem so had left the emotion behind. He glanced over his right shoulder and removed the still shaking shaft from the chair's head-cushion.

"Go ahead, read it!" he ordered the Troll.

It took time to make out the words and even more to understand what they meant.

"What does it say?"

And so the Troll told him.

Don't Kill The Messenger!

The Prince nodded, removed the arrow over his left shoulder and told the Troll to read it next.

Again, he complied.

Kill The Author Instead!

And with that the charade ended for it became obvious to the assassin impersonators the effect had run its course. They returned to Castle Nirvana in the dark of night.

"You two did exceptional work."

"Thank you, General Shield" they responded in unison.

They were in his private chambers where he had summoned them upon their return.

"Because of your actions our men have received some rest. The Prince was so worried about his own safety he forgot to issue orders for his beasts to harass."

The two nodded their heads in appreciation of the compliment.

"Now, I am going to tell you something and I want it understood; you are not to repeat what I say under any circumstances. Am I clear?"

"Yes, General" the two responded.

"Good. Okay, here are my orders. As of this moment you are relieved of any regulations regarding warfare within this Queen's army. You're oath to obey the Queen's wishes is now lifted."

The two stood stunned. They weren't sure what the General meant.

"I'm sorry, General, I don't understand."

"Me neither, General."

He looked upon them as a father would his favorite child; his face tender with care.

"It's simple. If I send you out again..."

And then his face became stone.

"... you will not be obliged to miss."
Chapter 16: One Law To Reign Supreme

Two Journeys Become One (The Land of Lawlessness)

The two Midglings found themselves walking a very fine line. They were skirting the boundary of the Land of Lawlessness. Lawlessness was actually somewhat a misnomer for it did indeed carry one law which held sway over all; there were to be no laws.

"Stu?"

"Yes. Wort?"

"I think I lost my amulet."

"Oh no."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh, that's exactly what I thought."

They discussed returning to look for the magical device but decided scouring an entire forest was a bit much for ones such as them so agreed one amulet would need to suffice and continued their journey.

The Land of Lawlessness came about from the decision of a princess who found herself in a predicament; everything she loved was forbidden by law. Her father, the greatest ruler Tranquility had ever known was called King Archy. Tranquility, Lawlessness' previous name, was ruled as it had always been with one principle, one grand idea which the King would dictate and the subjects agree to follow. There were other laws for the land had been ruled for millennia but since he was King, whatever he decreed became the greatest law of the land. Since his name was Archy and his power supreme his law became known as the Overarchyng Law for it was like the umbrella and all others fell under its command. He chose "Peace for all' and the subjects rejoiced.

"What is that, Stu?"

"It looks like a dust cloud."

"Why is it moving this way?"

King Archy had a wife, Queen Serenity, and a picture formed in their subject's minds of a land filled with tranquility and justice for all under the guide of the King's law. Life was grand and the population pleased for none had ever heard of a ruler so just, a Queen so kind and a realm so satisfied.

"Um, it's getting bigger."

"Uh-huh, and it seems to be making sounds."

There was a festive atmosphere, more giddy than most, for the Queen was due to give birth and the King at her bedside. The entire countryside was in attendance. Those who arrived early were inside the castle's walls while those who weren't staked down tents and waited to greet the heir of their beloved Monarchs.

"Okay, um, I'm starting to get a bad feeling about this."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh, me too! Except I've had a bad feeling for a while so I'm not exactly starting."

She arrived with the breaking of the dawn and the crowd rejoiced. Parties sprung to life and dancing was everywhere. Inside the Queen's bedchamber the mood was no different.

"She is perfect, My Queen."

"Yes, I believe she is, My King."

The populace was in a frenzy awaiting the sight of the new princess but an important ritual had to take place before she was brought into the public eye.

"What shall we name her?"

"I don't know? She's so cute an' bubbly an' pink an' adorable an'..."

"I've got it!"

The trumpets blared, the minstrels sang and the peoples gathered as the future was held by her mother on the balcony for all to see. The father was beaming with delight, reveling in the glory and appreciative of his servant's joy.

"May I present the heir to the throne, the guiding light for all to see, your future Queen, Princess Ann!"

The festive atmosphere lasted for months and the population around the castle grew to resemble a make-shift city surrounding the palace. Everywhere one looked people were setting up shops, playing games and beginning to consider building a home to remain and reside near the golden capitol.

"Stu?"

"Yes, Wort?"

"I think those are horses."

As time passed and the population grew a few problems emerged because, when those who previously lived apart no longer did, the necessity for compromise rose its head.

"This is my land!"

"No it's not! I bought it from Farmer Smith!"

"Well, I bought it from Rancher Joe!"

New laws were passed in order to reinforce the King's grand decree and people began thinking of better ways to design their city.

"No walking on the left side of the road!"

"Says who?"

"Says the new ordinance! Now move to the right!"

As the Princess grew she was reared in the middle of it all. She wasn't necessarily encumbered by any restrictions but her parents felt she should abide by what their learned citizens employed. They hired tutors and informed her of the ways people wished others to act.

"I would like to go horse riding, please."

"Not without a helmet."

"But it's just a pony."

"Ponies are known to be skull-cracking enthusiasts."

So Princess Ann was raised in a household led by two of the greatest rulers of their time. She had the best schooling, food, housing, security and wardrobe in the realm. Unfortunately she was also very, very bored.

"Um, okay now I'm getting really worried. People appear to be riding them, Stu!"

"I believe you're right, Wort!"

One day when Princess Ann was in her teens King Archy went out hunting. She begged and pleaded with him to take her along but he replied he couldn't.

"The citizens outside have decided hunting is too dangerous for girls. I am sorry, precious one, but sometimes a ruler needs to respect the wishes of those he governs."

The King returned later that day with a deer, boar and slight chill in his bones. He said he was weary and went to bed early. Queen Serenity watched over him as he slept.

"I don't think those are people, Stu!"

"I don't think those are horses, Wort!"

When morning arrived and neither ruler arose a servant was sent to check on their health.

"They will not awaken!"

They were deathly ill, pale of skin and clammy to the touch. Princess Ann began to worry for the medicine employed appeared to do nothing for their symptoms. As her anxiety rose to a fever pitch one of the housemaids remarked on a rumor.

"I heard there's a witch who brews healing potions."

The Princess ran to the counselors and spoke of what she learned.

"Magic has been declared illegal, Princess Ann, it promotes suspicion and is therefore against the law."

Both Monarchs perished on the same afternoon, lying side by side in the same room, leaving behind the one thing both cherished above all.

"I am so sorry, Princess, but you are now Queen and must issue your Overarchyng Law."

She was in bereavement, anguished beyond words and inconsolable to all. If only there had been no law to prevent the witch's brew from healing her parents. If only she had been able to hunt with her father maybe she would've foreseen the danger he encountered and been able to prevent it.

"Run faster, Stu!"

"I am running faster!"

"Then run fasterer!"

The occasion was a solemn affair with everyone in attendance. The guards who would pledge their loyalty in formation. The servants who would forever be in her employ dressed in their blackened sorrow. The time had come.

"All heed the words of Queen Ann Archy!"

She made her decree.

"There will be no law!"

And so the Land of Lawlessness was born. The Queen retired to her palace with her servants and guards while the countryside ran amok with looting, thievery and injustice. The Land became a place for cutthroats, con-men, burglars and worse to roam as they wished without worry of imprisonment.

"Well, what do we have here?" one of them hissed.

The two Midglings were terrified. They were literally shaking in their boots.

"It looks like we've got ourselves a couple of wanderers" another hissed.

"Please, we just want to go to the Lazy River" Stu pleaded.

The band in front of them were all the same; tall, green, motley, with bad teeth and a horrendous stench. The beasts they rode were not much better for they were camels bred and raised in Troll fashion so their nasty demeanors were actually worsened on purpose. They were tall, hairy, slobbering mounts and they too carried a smell best described as odorous.

Neither Wort nor Stu held out any hopes of escape. They were on foot while the Trolls were atop camel-humps. Even if they weren't the Midglings knew they were in trouble. The hideous creatures, all six of them, stood over seven feet tall and could outrun either Midgling in only a couple of strides. Both remained conscious because of something their kind knew only too well; Trolls would as readily eat a fainted Midgling as an awakened one.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no."

"Mommy, mommy, mommy."

Both knew it was only a matter of time before whatever the Trolls decided to torture them with became boring and they would be eaten. As it was, the green creatures were herding them with their mounts and taunting at the same time.

"Do you taste better boiled or baked?"

"What goes best with you, wine or ale?"

The end seemed near and Mother Nature's task unaccomplished. They were both surprised they couldn't make it farther than one forest but saw no other outcome. The Trolls were quickly tiring of the herding game.

"All right. Do we want to keep them alive before cooking or kill them here and take them back?" the one in front asked the others.

A murmuring for Midgling preference began and it was only with extraordinary willpower neither Wort nor Stu fell over on the spot. After a minute of consultation the choice was made.

"All right, so we kill them here."

The one in front, the one who asked for consultation and appeared in charge, swung his bulk off the camel, removed a battle axe from the saddle and strode toward the trembling Midglings who were too terrified to put up any resistance at all.

"Which one will it be? Which one will it be?" he repeated while moving forward and swinging his axe the whole time.

"I believe it will be you" he said indicating Stu with his eyes.

Neither could do anything. They were a prey species and the Trolls predators. They were caught in the open, away from the safety of their caves and they held nothing for resistance. Wort watched with horror as the best friend he'd ever known, the friend he'd grown up with his whole life, was tormented by a creature of nightmares. He watched with terror as the Troll lifted its axe, stared with comatose fright as it swung the blade high and blinked in astonishment as an arrow split the disgusting creature's skull in half.

What came next was a blur of motion as the other Trolls realized they were under attack. From behind, following the same path both he and Stu traveled, Wort saw three men emerge. One was standing still, aiming a bow as the others sprinted toward their location. As he watched, the man with bow let loose another arrow and a second Troll wound up with a splitting headache which would last forever. Wort believed the two running men were on a suicide mission for even he knew creatures mounted were at a much greater advantage then those on ground. What happened next both proved his point and nullified its use. The man with bow, once again, took aim but instead of firing into a Troll he fired into a camel. And then another, and another, and another. In the space of two seconds four camels with riders were down, grunting with annoyance for each had an arrow embedded in a hoof. The four Trolls remaining were on their feet in an instant. The two men entered the fray with a vengeance. Wort and Stu watched with amazement. The rout was over in moments.
Chapter 17: A Difference Of Opinion

The Pursuit (Breathtaking Forest)

The forest was alive and the Elfin excited. They were tending their gardens secure in the knowledge their Wearwolf duties were no longer necessary. The Piglets turned out to be quite helpful. At first no one knew what they were doing.

"What are they doing?"

"Are they rooting around again?"

"I thought the truce put an end to that?"

The confusion the Elfin were facing was where the Piglets were turning up the ground with their stubby little noses; barren fields.

"Don't they know we haven't plowed that land yet?"

"You'd think they'd know there wasn't anything planted there?"

After a bit of time even Elfin heads became aware.

"Hey, you know what?"

"What?"

"I think they're plowing the fields for us!"

And the Elfin community realized cooperation with their neighbors might actually be a benefit after all. The Piglets were made for garden preparation. Their natural ability to uproot soil and turn over turf was exceptional for the agricultural ways of the Elfin. They responded with a bushelfull of baskets in appreciation for the Piglet's ingenuity.

Everyone was in high spirits, imagining the bountiful harvest they would be able to produce when the warning went out over the grapevine. Everyone scattered. The Piglets followed suit for they could sense the evil which entered the forest. The chattering intensified, the anxiety level rose and the agricultural farmers in Mother Nature's forest armed themselves. Their ancient foe had arrived and on everyone's lips one phrase was uttered in fear.

"Elvin are here."

They moved without sound, unseen but sensed by their other half. They paid them no heed for they were of no consequence. Slicer led the band but all of the same mind, of the same unquenchable desire; destroy those who dared challenge the Guild.

They knew they were being watched, could sense those who held an ancestry with them, those who had chosen to go a different way. The Elvin and the Elfin had once been the same. The split had occurred so long in the past they were no longer so. It had come about abruptly, a differing of opinion which could not be compromised.

"We should make peace with the Humans."

"No, we should kill them all."

The Elfelvin were an elderly race, roaming the land long before Humans arrived. They were a stoic breed, able to hold their own against creatures much larger and stronger for they were intellectually superior. Their intellect allowed them to evolve many techniques which would prove them well. Two of which were cultivation and defense. When the Humans arrived the two traits were put to a test and found wanting.

"There is plenty of room. We can learn to trade with them."

"They are trespassing, they must die."

Two factions emerged, two ideals verbalized, only one prevailed.

"Where will you go?"

"To the mountains."

"I'm sorry we couldn't find common ground."

"Don't be sorry, be warned. The Humans will dominate your life."

The Elfin made peace and began trading with the Humans, the Elvin made plans and went to war. Over centuries both sides changed, evolved and finally emerged. The Elfin moved to the forests, the Elvin into the mountains. Human views progressed with them came differing problems.

"The Elfin refused our offer. They won't sell their land."

"Take it by force."

According to different opponents.

"What happened at the battle?"

"The Elvin slaughtered everyone."

As Humans swarmed over the land, multiplying at a rate impossible to match by those who lived for centuries, the Elfelvin common heritage diminished, eroded and finally divided. One grew smaller, the other larger, a necessary trait to implement their crafts. The species became two, of separate ideals, a contrast of peoples.

"Which side do you choose, us or them?"

"We wish not to choose at all but if we must, it will be with the Humans."

"Then we are now enemies."

The battles were fought, lives were lost and over time the separation became complete. The Elfin were much more numerous for they were on the side of history; Humans would rule the land. The Elvin were never defeated but their ranks were depleted so they retreated into the mountain and became masters of their art, disciples of their goddess, instruments of Death.

"How many are there?" Tweedlewink asked.

"We have counted seven so far, but they move so rapidly and with such stealth there may be more."

The Elfin were rightfully alert, alarmed at what they'd seen.

"What do we do?"

"We do nothing. We are no match for three let alone seven."

The Elvin were a story, a fable, a tale told to frighten children. They were the monsters in the dark, the creatures lurking outside, the eradicators of life. As with all tales an element of truth rang through.

"They are following the same trail."

"I know."

"Which ones do you think they are after?"

"It doesn't matter. Whichever it is their lives are forfeit."

As Tweedlewink said the words his eyes caught sight of something on the ground, something he'd seen before; an amulet of Nature. He glanced to verify the other Elfin was unaware, confirmed it was and quickly placed the enchanted necklace in a pocket. He wasn't sure but felt a gift from Mother Nature herself would someday come in handy. He had no idea how right he was.

And so, as the Elfin leader pocketed Wort's amulet, Slicer and the Elvin cut a swath through the forest, unhindered but watched by those they once called brothers. They never broke stride, never eased their pace for they'd caught the scent, found the trail of the ones who helped take an Elvin life.
Chapter 18: General Shield

The Siege (Castle Nirvana)

He stood at attention for it was his duty to do so. She, as always, felt otherwise.

"General, would you please sit down, it strains my neck to look up at you."

He knew it wasn't so but did as asked for he could not do otherwise. She was the reason he lived, after all.

"Thank you. Now, I am going to do something I would rather not but you leave me no choice. You are ordered to get some rest."

"But, My Queen..."

"No buts. You are too important to the survival of the realm to be walking around with half your senses. I am sorry, but this is an order. Go to bed."

He thought of arguing, imploring her to change her mind but knew it would be of no use for she was right; he was half-asleep. He acceded to her wishes.

"Yes, My Queen."

He rose from the seat, bowed, and made his way to the bedchamber. It was not his favorite room. It was large, brightly lit with torches and decorated in such fashion a visiting monarch would find acceptable. The bed was gargantuan, the mattress made of the finest padding and the pillows adorned with lace. Tapestries of finely woven silk displayed images of incredible beauty. A rug which cost a year's wages lay on the floor and a desk polished mahogany brown sat in the corner. All in all, a royal room inside a royal palace with every comfort one could wish for. It didn't matter. He feared what the room offered. He dreaded what the room was designed for. He was ever loath to use its intended function because to him it was torture. Dreaming was the one thing he wished to avoid.

She was dancing with another when their eyes met, his life was hers from that moment on. She toyed with him for a while but he knew the truth, she admitted it was so, he gave her a jade locket and they were married by the Queen herself, the new ruler of Nirvana; Mother Gaia Nature.

He was an enlisted man in her army and he thrived. He was competent, agile, witty and liked by all. He rose through the ranks and his life was fulfilled. Or at least he thought it was. She was always able to surprise him.

"Sally, I'm home!"

She was standing in the room, facing the door, twirling the locket and looking more beautiful than ever. His breath always caught at the sight of her, his heart skipped a beat, the feeling of falling throughout his entire being.

"Hello, My Love, I have some news."

The child was born eight months later and he walked around in a daze for he could not comprehend, neither verbally nor intellectually, the happiness he felt. They moved into a cottage on the outskirts of town and he went off in service to the Queen with joy in his heart and a feeling of purpose in life.

Soldiering had been a calling for him, something he could not describe but positive it was true. He practiced the ways of the craft and excelled in all, so much so, he was placed in charge of the Queen's police and kept order in the town surrounding the palace. He was a good man and the citizens grew to respect his authority. There were always petty crimes to be solved, fights to be settled, but he never chose sides and was lenient with his rulings.

He led a force of twenty and they kept law and order allowing the people to prosper and the palace to thrive. Many felt a debt of gratitude to the Queen for finding a righteous man to guard their lives but she declined their praise and showered it upon him instead. He was grateful for her trust and loyal without question but he knew the truth, the reason he was born, the meaning of his life.

"Sally, I'm home!"

"Hello, My Love."

She was everything to him. The mother of his child, his bride in marriage, his partner for life. She was blonde of hair with pale skin and eyes aqua blue. She could make him laugh so hard his stomach would clench, his eyes water, and he'd need ten minutes to refill his lungs. She was an adoring mother, a caring neighbor and a kindhearted soul who took pity on the plight of others. It was why he tempered his power; he wished to be her equal in his very own eyes.

"Sally, I'm home!"

"Hello, My Love, meet Rover."

He couldn't believe she knew more about him than he did of himself. He had no idea a mutt, a scrawny little brown-haired dog could bring so much joy. He would dream of being home. While sitting at work or stopping a fight the thought was ever in his head. He would sometimes skip on the journey to his cottage because his feet felt too light to remain on the ground. They spent wonderful afternoons doing absolutely nothing as his child played with the dog, he lay on a blanket and she stroked his hair telling of wondrous places and, as always, twirling her locket. He felt like he was in Heaven and thanked the All-Mighty for allowing him the pleasure.

As always and in every place inhabited by many, there were a few looking for easy money, easy prey or easy pickings. One such group came to his attention and he went about dismantling their operation. It wasn't much, just a few lost souls who couldn't find their way in the world. It was a pickpocket ring using orphans as thieves. He systematically rounded the children up and sent them to the Queen for her verdict. She, unlike his wife, never surprised him.

"Clean them, feed them, find them rooms and have them report in the morning."

"What will you do with them, My Queen?"

"What should have been done before; show them the love they deserve."

The youths found a home in the castle and the citizens were again happy for their belongings quit disappearing and the bulk of appreciation fell on his shoulders; he humbly accepted their gratitude. Another did not.

Men were treacherous creatures when given the chance. The other took it and ran.

"Sally, I'm home!"

The silence was deafening.

"Sally?"

An acid feeling began to rise.

"Rover?"

And exploded when he entered the room.

"Dear God... No!"

The bodies were there, all of them, tossed on the floor as afterthoughts. Blood everywhere, the stench of death, the smell of evil, and one other detail; a note attached to the dagger plunged through his love's heart where her locket once rested.

You Take My Livelihood. I Take Yours!

He never searched the town, never went to the Queen, he had no need, he knew where the other ran.

Nature's realm bordered Lawlessness and he went without saying a word, without leaving a note, merely rode away after burying the reason for his existence. He entered and vengeance rode with him.

"Give me your money!"

He never spoke. They were below vile, underneath waste, beyond tolerance.

"I said...!"

His reputation spread as one after another, body after body, lay in his wake. He was after one but unopposed to removing all. Any who came before him never came again. He was revenge, retribution, death.

"Give me...!"

He did not find the one he was after but learned the name and vowed to remove him from life's list. The tavern was raucous when he entered.

"What'll it be?" the man behind the bar asked.

Again, he never spoke. He nodded toward a bottle and it appeared in front of him.

"That'll be a gold coin."

He looked up and the man stepped back.

"You know what? It's on the house."

The place was full so he didn't notice at first. When he did fury arose.

She was one of the wenches, a portly woman who'd given up on life and whatever prospects it held. He moved and stood in front of her before she recognized he was there.

"Oh! My goodness, you scared me."

Nothing.

"Do you want a dance?"

Nothing.

"Do you want something else?"

He nodded. They went up the stairs and entered a room. She turned to face him and froze. She'd been living in Lawlessness for years, had seen enough terrifying things to believe in an afterlife filled with devils. Nothing came close to the fear she felt when looking into the man's eyes. They were beyond death. They were agony. They were also drawn to the locket she was wearing; one made of jade. She thought fast, felt her life on the line.

"Do you like this? I just got it for a present today."

Nothing.

She could feel her last moments at hand.

"Was this yours? If it was, I'll gladly give it back."

He held out his hand, she placed the locket in his palm.

"Please don't kill me."

When he finally spoke she jumped.

"Who gave it to you?"

She opened the door, stepped out and pointed downstairs.

"That man. The one at the table sitting with four of his friends."

She watched death walk down the stairs, her heart beating with a pounding she had never known.

He moved through the crowd and stood before them; five men who renounced authority and lived according to their own laws. They glanced up as he arrived. They leapt to their feet when they saw the look in his eyes. They fell dead as steel entered their bodies. He left the one she'd indicated for last. He was curious. He'd never seen the man before.

"Look, Mister, I don't know what we did but I swear we didn't mean it!"

He was aware of his surroundings, heard footsteps from behind and swung the blade with a speed eyes could not follow.

"Gasp!"

The bartender who attempted to intervene stood stock still as the tip of sword touched his neck. He slowly backed away with hands raised vowing never to interfere again.

A locket appeared and the man who stared at death quickly realized the reason.

"I won it in a card game! I swear to you, I won it in a card game!"

The next words out of his mouth might've saved his life.

"His name was Cutter! I swear on my mother's grave, his name was Cutter!"

It didn't because he was beyond sympathy, absent leniency and void of conscious. He demanded a description, received a verbal report of his enemy's visage and dispatched the man with a sword stroke.

He searched for a year but the trail went cold. He wore the locket around his neck, felt the coolness of the stone as his heart froze colder. In the Land of Lawlessness he was a law to himself. Judge, jury and executioner. The innocent he allowed life, the guilty he brutally slaughtered.

She found him alone, sitting on a stool, drinking his memories away.

"It is time to come home."

He felt empty inside, as though something were missing, something lost forever.

"Can you make me whole again?"

She looked upon him with tears in her eyes.

"No, I am afraid my powers cannot do that. What I can offer is a reason to live."

He left with her and over time the emptiness subsided. It never fully healed for he would not, could not, let her memory fade. He was clutching the locket to his chest when the servant woke him.

"General Shield?"

"Yes?"

"They are attacking."

And rose to battle demons again.
Chapter 19: The Past Has Consequences

The Journey (Lawlessness)

The Midglings stood frozen, eyes wide, mouths open watching the impossible. The two men exploded into view and two Trolls lost their heads immediately. Four remained. Two on one, two groups. It should've been a massacre. It was.

He'd been raised in Lawlessness, his mother a slave, his father a butcher. He knew nothing but fear during his formidable years for while she loved him, he did not. His father killed his mother when she displeased him and would've done the same to Savage if not for a lone man, another villain in life, his future employer; Renegade.

Renegade was a brute, an enormous man with large aspirations and infinite cruelty. He led a band of criminals and raided lawful lands in search of prizes. The women he sold fetched a high price which furthered his gain. He became powerful, acquired land and ruled a kingdom of his own. It required soldiers. Young boys eventually grew to manhood. Savage was spared to protect Renegade's wealth.

He was taught the ways of combat, all combat, nothing held back and everything employed. He was six when he first took a man's life. The man was a thief, nothing special in Renegade's army but he took the forbidden and was sentenced to death.

"You would dare steal from me!"

"I'm sorry, My Lord, but I'd had nothing to drink for two days."

The well was life, water held value and Renegade charged for the privilege.

"Take his head!"

He was still a youth but already a warrior. Cruelty was rewarded, encouraged, applauded. It took one slash and the thief was gone, replaced by a killer.

He grew into manhood under the eyes of criminals. He was strong, smart and lethal. Renegade took notice.

"Who is your master?"

"You, My Lord."

He was ever present for Renegade demanded it so. A bodyguard to a slave-dealer, a protector of evil.

"Take the girls down to the cellar and chain them to the walls."

"Yes, My Lord."

She was but a child, maybe ten or so. Dirty, grimy, unkempt during the forced march. She said nothing. It surprised him. All begged for escape.

"Please! My people will give you anything! Just let me go!"

He'd been forged in Hell, raised by evil and taught by murderers. He rarely spoke more than three words.

"Bring the girls to the bidding block!"

"Yes, My Lord."

They were brought forward and evaluated by others. Their lives were over, altered for another's pleasure.

"I bid three gold pieces!"

"Sold! Bring up the next one!"

She stood on the dais, skinny, freckled, alone. The initial price had been set and agreed upon.

"I bid one gold piece!"

She was nothing much to look at, a waif with little value. The buyer smiled in anticipation, awaiting his property.

"I bid two."

His voice never rose, his demeanor the same. The bidder took notice and glanced at the other's master.

"You would have her?" Renegade asked.

"Yes, My Lord."

The bidder backed down and the girl smiled wide. She walked down the stairs to meet the man who saved her life. As she stood before him her neck was severed.

"You have nothing which I do not provide!"

Renegade's sword was in his hand, bloody, defiled with the youth's blood.

"Who is your master?" he screamed, his voice loud with authority.

"No one."

And Renegade's reign ended when a blade wielded by one who could not be tamed split him open, leaving entrails on the floor. He didn't die quickly. All in the room watched as the slave became master, standing guard, watching another suffer, keeping help at bay.

"I heard Renegade died."

"Yes, it's true, I was there."

"What was it like?"

"Savage."

The Trolls facing him knew not what he was. They believed him merely Human, an easy prey to slaughter. He skewered them before they realized the truth.

"Stu?"

"Yes, Wort?"

"Am I seeing things?"

"Thank God! I thought I was the only one!"

The barbarian was brute strength, indefensible, unstoppable. The Trolls he faced unaware of their fate. He moved with a speed impossible for his size. He'd acquired it in his youth, implemented to survive.

"I am sorry, but your wife did not make it."

"What about the baby?"

"It's a boy."

The Northern Waste was hard, cold and brutal.

"What will you name him?"

"Brutus."

He lived the life all did; fishing, raiding, warring. His people were hardy, strong and weathered. They had to be. They were ever under siege.

"To arms!"

He was raised by a clan, tutored by all. The land was harsh and unforgiving. Their bodies adapted accordingly and they thrived. So did others.

"Invaders!"

They came in a swarm. Five times their strength. His people fought hard but were outnumbered and succumbed. He alone survived, the last of his kind. The others who attacked spared his life for at his feet lay ten of their own, unable to stand against a man barely out of teens.

"Attack!"

"Attack? Are you crazy? That kid's killed everyone he's faced!"

He left and headed south into the unknown. Innocent in the ways of others, he was quickly beset upon.

"Your gold or your life!"

"I believe I'll keep both."

Rumors spread of a barbarian who could not be beaten. He was approached by a man who saw wealth in his future.

"In this corner we have the nomad from the north, the scourge of the south, the enemy of the east, the waste of the west, the brutal barbarian..."

Pausing for effect was ever encouraged.

"... Brutus!"

He wiped the floor with everyone he met. He was unbeaten, unchallenged and unsatisfied.

"I'm done."

"But we're making money."

"I can make money elsewhere."

And so he became a mercenary, signed on with a moronic Prince, met Savage, fled the siege of Castle Nirvana and faced two Trolls in the Land of Lawlessness.

"I will enjoy eating you" one of them hissed.

He answered by removing the other one's head.

"You will die for that" it hissed again.

He didn't, of course, because a single Troll was an afternoon delight to one of Brutus' skill. He didn't toy with the creature, though, because while he was a barbarian he was not an animal so after removing both the Troll's arms he erased its head with a single swing from the enormous sword he wielded.

"Um, Stu?"

"I know, Wort."

"They're coming this way!"

"I can see that!"

What occurred next was the first meeting between the greatest trio of warriors the world had ever known and two Midglings entrusted with Mother Nature's gift.

"Did they just faint?"

And three became five.
Chapter 20: Troll Logic

The Siege (Blight's Encampment)

The Troll Toodrake was anything but pleased. They had decided on a plan of action, something to shake things up; a full frontal assault on Castle Nirvana.

"Attack!"

It did not go well.

"Retreat!"

They had overlooked a rather obvious problem.

"This is embarrassing."

The idea was simple for while Toodrake was an intellectual among his own kind he was somewhat lacking compared to others.

"Can't they see they're blocking the Orcs?"

All sieges occurred because a fortification could not be breached. One part of a siege which had shown success was scaling the walls thus rendering the siege over. Once the walls were breached the war ended for a siege was only implemented when the army outside was either more numerous or better equipped than those inside.

The attack began with full expectation of success.

"Tell them to bash the walls."

The Ogres, happy to bash anything, readily complied.

"Okay, um, tell them to stop."

The defenders, knowing bashing walls with clubs involved getting within reach to swing the weapons, were ready.

"All right, I've got to admit, I didn't think they had oil."

Oil was a useful tool because it contained properties which were unique. It could be stored indefinitely in barrels, was harmless when doing so but became rather painful to others if heated and poured from above.

"Me bash!"

"Hey, stupid!"

"Huh?"

"Bash this!"

"Yaaghh!"

It was poured onto the creatures below after being brought to a boil which was unpleasant to the touch.

"It hurt! It hurt! It hurt!"

It also had another aspect which made it desirable to defenders during a siege.

Thunk! Poof! Whoosh!

It was highly flammable.

"It burn! It burn! It burn!"

The defenders were having a grand time for they had a target which was both exceptionally large and wearing a chemical coating allowing for a whole new set of scoring opportunities.

"You see that one?"

"Which one?"

Thunk! Poof! Whoosh!

"That one."

"Oh yeah! I can definitely see him now!"

Toodrake was witnessing the end of his plan, one which should've worked if the Ogres had complied. He had the Orcs bring ladders from the rear and sent the Ogres to attack as a diversion. The diversion worked, only not against those it was intended.

"They're running into the Orcs! Tell them to stop running into the Orcs!"

Combustion was not a pleasant process. It started from the outside where nerves ended. As it moved inside further pain followed.

"Are the...? Are the ladders on fire?"

Pain did many things. One of which was to render rational thought pointless. When the Ogres caught fire they fled from the walls and ran through the Orcs. When on fire the only thought was to stop the pain. Since they were incapable of stopping it themselves, unable to learn the concept of stop-drop-roll, they went for help.

"What Ogre doing?" an Orc grunted.

"He running to us" another grunted back.

The Ogres, not intelligent creatures to begin with, went in search of aid and found the first creatures they encountered.

"No! Go back!"

The Orcs, clustered in groups carrying enormous wooden ladders were thus besieged by huge flaming Ogres looking for assistance.

"Stay away!"

"No, Ogre, no!"

Whoosh!

And so the siege of Nirvana continued.

"Toodrake!"

He knew what was coming and prepared himself accordingly.

"You dim-witted, rat-brained, mush-colored fool! You slow-minded, slobber-drooling, wart-skinned tool! You feeble-thinking...!"

It wasn't so hard, he was a Troll after all and led the life of one committed to the service of his kind. A service which included the subjugation of all others, without exception, even other Trolls. His childhood, like all Troll childhoods, was not a pleasant one.

"Toodrake!" she hissed.

"Yes, Mother?"

"Your teacher came by. He said you beat up the Trendyl Troll. Is this true?"

"Yes, Mother."

"Good boy."

Troll society had always been cruel, harsh and mischievous. With the arrival of Humans it became institutionalized. Troll children were sent to school and taught Troll ideology.

"What is the most effective way of solving a houseguest problem?"

All claws went up.

"Yes, Toodrake."

He was ever pleased to be called upon when he knew the answer.

"Poison."

"Correct."

They had always been the secondary creatures. Smarter than all save the Elfelvin. When the Humans arrived they saw to their chagrin they were third-rate. They were intelligent enough to know they needed to invest some time in their youths if they were to destroy the other creatures and rule supreme so they set up an education system.

"What is the best way to attack your enemy?"

"From behind."

"Correct."

As time progressed, evaluation began and those deemed more worthy were sent away for further instruction.

"What do you do if your side is losing a battle?"

"Change sides."

"Correct."

Toodrake excelled over most and was sent out to promote Troll values.

"What are you doing?"

"Preparing to eat him."

"No, no, no. You torture him first then you eat him."

He was given command of a squadron, sent out on Troll patrol and won acclaim in the process.

"We have killed all the males. The women and children are hiding inside the barn."

"Burn it. We'll eat our meat well-done tonight."

As his reputation grew the squadron became a small army and he signed on to Prince Blight's campaign with the intention of ridding the land of Humans. Having the ability to communicate with the Ogres and Orcs, he became a valued commodity.

"What are they doing, Toodrake?"

"Attacking the Humans, Your Highness."

"Those are our Humans! Tell them to attack the other Humans!"

With King Rot's desire to rule all the realms and Prince Blight's dream of complete conquest the Troll Toodrake found himself in the unique position as both leader of the Troll forces and intermediary between the designers of war and the creatures necessary to implement their plans.

"Okay, we have the castle completely surrounded. Tell them to stop eating each other."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Everything had gone according to plan and Toodrake was pleased until one event occurred which caused his insides to boil.

"Sergeant Savage shall be in charge of the forces."

"Yes, Your Highness" he hissed through gritted teeth.

Savage had been a thorn in his side from the beginning. Toodrake couldn't understand the man. He didn't lead like the others. He didn't demand loyalty through force. Worse yet, he didn't fight according to Troll principles.

"Tell the beasts to stop. They have agreed to surrender."

"But there are more people to kill."

"No, Toad, there aren't. Tell the beasts to stop or lose your head."

Savage fought for victory and coin not blood and carnage. To Toodrake it was an abomination, a flagrant violation of everything he held dear. If killing were not the reason for war then what was the point? Why someone would want to rule over Humans instead of eating them was impossible for him to grasp. He was reminiscing when the Prince decided he'd insulted the Troll enough.

"Now get out of my tent!"

"Yes, Your Highness."

He turned to leave.

"Oh, and one other thing."

He paused, turned back around and saw a wicked grin on Blight's face.

"Yes, Your Highness?"

"You are no longer in charge of the forces. I have brought in a new leader."

He knew it couldn't last forever but he rather enjoyed the power he held while the Prince was looking for Savage's replacement.

"Yes, Your Highness. May I ask who it is?"

The Prince's eyes gleamed and the Troll Toodrake stiffened for at that precise moment a dagger was placed against his throat. A dagger held by someone who snuck up behind him. A dagger which was incredibly sharp.

"You can but then I'd have to kill you" he heard a man's voice say with strange Human humor.

He felt the blade removed and turned to face the fool who would dare touch his skin with metal.

"Toodrake, I believe you've already met your new commander" the Prince humorously said.

The Troll looked down upon one he could understand, one who killed for the thrill alone, one he could work with if only to further his needs.

"Yes, I have, Your Highness. Hello Commander Cutter" he hissed, awaiting the sarcastic reply he knew was coming.

"Hello, Toad."
Chapter 21: A Loyal Friend Is A Blessing Indeed

The Journey (Lawlessness)

They watched and waited from the tree-line. They knew they were unseen but the one with the bow, the one named Deadaim, had somehow detected their presence. They remained in hiding for it was not the right time, not the right circumstance. They were stealth killers. Open warfare held no advantages to ones like them. They would bide their time. It didn't matter. Even if it took years they would avenge the one they lost.

"Sergeant."

"Yes, Deadaim?"

"We have Elvin on our trail."

Savage looked to the rear but couldn't spot them. He didn't question the archer, he didn't need to, it would've been a waste of words.

"Well, we knew they'd be coming so let's just load the Midglings on the camels and put some distance between us."

Deadaim nodded and they lifted the two unconscious beings, placed them on one camel who was particularly unpleasant because its hoof hurt where an arrow was removed and tied the two down so they wouldn't fall off.

"Where are we going?" Brutus asked.

"Well, for now I think we should just move as far away from the forest as possible. We're mounted and the Elvin on foot so I think we should be able to put a lot of ground between us and them. When the Midglings wake up we can ask where they're headed and figure it out from there."

So six camels left six Trolls laying on the wasteland awaiting the buzzards who would pick their bones clean before the sun set.

"Sergeant."

"Yes, Brutus?"

"The Midglings appear to be awaking."

The Midglings did appear to be regaining consciousness but, unfortunately, they had no recollection of the preceding time interval and were instantly confused finding themselves tied up on the back of a camel. So they did what Midglings did.

"Help!"

The camels were walking the way camels always walked which was in a straight line. Savage was in front, Stu and Wort's camel behind his, Brutus' behind them leading two more who were tied together and in the rear, sitting backwards to keep an eye out for Elvin assassins sat Deadaim. Since camels were long-necked creatures and Midglings weren't, their vision was obstructed which was why what happened should have been predicted.

"Hello, sleepy-heads."

"Yaagh!"

"Did...? Did they just faint again?"

They'd been tied down facing forward, two Midglings sitting atop one hump, Stu in front of Wort. When Savage turned his mount to welcome them back from faint-land the first thing which came into view was the rather ugly and annoyed camel-face of the steed he rode upon. Midglings were not desert people. They had never seen camels before the Trolls' arrival and had definitely never ridden them so they were rather disoriented sitting ten feet off the ground on a stringy-haired mammal with beautification issues. They awoke again ten minutes later.

"Okay, no more fainting."

"Yaagh!"

And fainted again. Savage realized the problem, dismounted and walked his camel. When they again awoke he was below them and not such a jarring picture for their senses.

"Um, okay, are you two done fainting?"

Stu, facing forward, was going to answer the man's question with a question of his own but didn't because his question was answered by the subject itself.

"Yes, I think..."

"Yaaagh!"

Stu wasn't aware Wort was behind him and was going to ask where his best friend was. When Wort spoke it scared Stu to sleep. He came around to the sound of Wort's voice.

"... and then the Elfin swung us through the treetops and then we ran into the Trolls and then you guys came along and then, um, okay I don't remember anything after that until I woke up and then... Oh! Hey Stu! I want you to meet Sergeant Savage."

Stu, still a little groggy but somewhat more aware of his surroundings looked down upon the man walking alongside their camel.

"Hello, Sergeant Savage, I'm Stu."

Savage was slightly amused because both Midglings did the same thing when they introduced themselves. They sat up straighter, squared back their shoulders, lifted their chins with regal bearing and announced their presence to the world. He'd heard of Midglings, even seen a few before but they were rather rare for they were considered delicacies to quite a few of the creatures walking, shuffling and roaming the land.

"Hello, Stu, it's very nice to meet you."

"You too."

"Thank you. Now, I would also like for you to meet my friends, Brutus and Deadaim."

The two Midglings, now fully awake and in touch with reality immediately re-squared their shoulders, lifted their chins and tried as hard as they could to crane their necks in an attempt to turn and look where Savage indicated his friends were located.

"Oomph!"

"Erg!"

They were completely unsuccessful due to their bindings so did what Midgling courtesy demanded.

"Hello, Mister Brutus! Hello, Mister Deadaim!" they shouted to the sky at the top of their lungs.

Savage decided they were not going to faint again so called a halt, reached up and untied the two little beings.

"Thank you."

"Ooh, that's much better."

Introductions were formally given, the camels again mounted and the caravan began moving.

"So, where are you two headed?" Savage asked.

"We're supposed to go to the Lazy River."

"The Lazy River?"

"Uh-huh."

"Why?"

"Well..."

As Savage questioned the Midglings about their mission Deadaim kept watch for signs of Elvin. The landscape was barren, a vast area with little shrubbery and almost devoid of color. Most found it somewhat hypnotic and would fall asleep while trying to keep watch. Deadaim didn't. He was an expert in patience. He had a lot of practice.

"The walls have been breached! We must flee with the others!"

"I will not leave my post."

He'd signed on for the promise of gold. He hadn't always done so.

"Do you pledge your loyalty to the Empire?"

"I do."

"Then rise, Archer of the Realm."

He'd enlisted in his kingdom's army. He'd been born, bred and raised as a loyal subject to his Emperor. The Emperor had been crowned after his father designated him heir then died. He was wise, brave and impeccably honest. It's what got him killed.

"The Emperor is dead."

"How did he die?"

"Someone poisoned him. His brother is the new Emperor."

It was, of course, his replacement who did the evil deed but since he was the next in line to the throne the investigation never went far. Deadaim, loyal to a fault, demanded more answers than the new Emperor was comfortable with.

"Archer Deadaim?"

"Yes?"

"You're under arrest for disloyalty to the crown."

Deadaim was tried, convicted and sentenced to solitary confinement. He was sitting alone, contemplating the meaning of life when a reprieve was offered.

"If you declare your allegiance to the new Emperor you will be reinstated as an Archer of the Realm."

"No thanks."

It wasn't personal to him, it was communal. He didn't hold the new Emperor any ill-will for he understood the desire for power, it wasn't hard to comprehend, but the reaction of the citizenry was something else altogether.

"All hail the Emperor!"

"The Emperor is dead."

Gasp!

"Meet the new Emperor."

"Hooray! All hail the Emperor!"

It was as if the old Emperor had never existed, merely changed mortal form and took on the appearance of his sibling. The fact people could so readily accept a replacement for a Monarch they pledged unbending loyalty was confounding to him.

"Do you vow to lay your life down for me?"

"Yes, My Emperor."

Thunk!

"Um... that is, of course, unless you get an arrow stuck in your chest. Okay, who's the next heir?"

He couldn't quite grasp the concept of pledging one's support if it only lasted till another supplanted it. He was in his second year contemplating life when another reprieve was offered.

"If you fight in the Gladiator Games you can win your freedom."

He wasn't a fool.

"Okay."

So he entered the contest and quickly vanquished all.

"On this side we have a former Archer of the Realm..."

"Yay!"

"... and on this side we have a butcher of children..."

"Boo!"

"... let the games begin!"

Thunk!

"Wow! That was quick."

The problem he had, of course, was speed. He won every contest a moment after it began. There was no defense because he could place an arrow-tip with the precision of a seamstress.

"Um, we can't let you go."

"Why not?"

"The Emperor had some money on the Games and... well, he'd like a chance to win it back."

The Emperor, it was later found out, had a bit of a gambling problem. It's what actually made him ruler in the first place. The men running the gambling ring were constantly harassed by the previous Emperor's troops. It got to the point where they were considering abandoning the occupation altogether when good luck fell in their laps. The Emperor's brother was somewhat of a moron when it came to odds calculation so they gave him a line of credit which he quickly maxed out, they called in his debt, he couldn't pay and they offered him a solution.

"Kill your brother and we'll forgive what you owe us."

So he did as asked, became the new Emperor, imprisoned those foolish enough to believe loyalty held meaning, began the Gladiator Games and quickly found himself in even more debt than before.

"What are the odds?"

"It's a hundred to one in favor of the Archer."

"Put a thousand on the Butcher."

His problem was he couldn't resist the long shot. He bet against the favorite every time and since every once in a while he won it only reinforced his belief he could spot a winner when all others saw a loser. The fact the odds-makers were experts in their field was discounted. His thought was if he bet enough times on underwhelming odds eventually someone would get in a lucky shot and he'd come out ahead.

"On this side, the Archer!"

Cheers.

"On this side, the Murderer!

Grumblings.

"Let the Games begin!"

Thunk!

"Are you kidding me?"

A dilemma emerged which no one foresaw. The Emperor was so bad at betting the gambling operation was, on paper, the richest organization around. Their only problem? They couldn't collect on their bets. He was the Emperor, after all, and always surrounded by an elite squadron of soldiers.

"We have got to stop taking his bets."

"I know, it's looking bad."

"But we've got to do it in a way which won't get us killed."

"True. How?"

"What if he wins and we pay his earnings. We'll then say the Games need to end because it's horse-racing season. Even he can't lose every bet in horse-racing."

"Not a bad idea."

So they went to the Archer with a request.

"If you concede defeat we can put an end to the Games and then, after a little time has passed, we will arrange for your pardon."

His answer threw a kink in their designs.

"I cannot. I pledged a loyalty to the Empire and even though I believe him to be of dishonest quality he is still the Emperor. When I compete I represent the Empire's archers. Thus, as long as my pledge is held I cannot concede defeat."

The gambling ring was not successful because they were dimwitted.

"Emperor?"

"Yes?"

"We have a rather strange request."

They explained they were running into a scheduling conflict with the equestrian races.

"You cannot start them while the Gladiator Games are going?"

"No, Your Excellency, the audience is at the Games."

They were walking a fine line but knew something about gambling and thus things about men in debt.

"What happens if I call off the Games?"

"All debts are due."

They knew he couldn't acquiesce because he owed so much therefore they gave him a solution.

"We have an idea. We know you are eventually going to win. I mean, it's not like the guy can keep putting arrows into everyone he opposes. Therefore we propose he concede defeat. Without him the citizens will quickly lose interest and begin betting on the horses."

They saw him waver and went for the kill.

"We understand your reluctance but we must add it's only a matter of time before someone beats him so you really aren't changing anything other than the inevitable."

He'd been betting against the archer every time.

"That is true. I am inevitably going to win."

So they had his acceptance but still needed another's who was, surprisingly, unwilling. So they went back and queried again.

"Um, Emperor?"

"Yes?"

"We need another favor."

He entered the arena knowing one thing with absolution; he would walk away alive. It wasn't arrogance he relied upon but the clear knowledge none could stand against him. His opponent obviously shared his belief because he was, at that moment, on his knees praying to his god in an attempt to make amends for all he'd done wrong.

"... and I'm sorry for starting the fire and I'm sorry for stealing that horse and I'm really sorry for..."

The crowd was anxious with anticipation. Everyone was talking and a buzz filled the stadium when suddenly the Emperor rose. Everyone became quiet.

"Former Archer of the Realm!"

Deadaim turned to face the man who replaced the man he took an oath to. He indicated with a slight bow he was indeed the former Archer of the Realm.

"I relinquish your oath to the Empire! You are no longer a subject under my protection! What do you say in return?"

The deal was quite easy. Extinguish the man's oath and allow him to concede defeat. The Emperor would finally win his bet, the gambling ring could move on to other lucrative adventures and the archer would gain his freedom. They would give him a pardon in a year or so and everyone would come out ahead. Therefore, everyone won. Or so they thought.

Thunk!

"Did he...? Did he just shoot the Emperor?"

"I bet he didn't expect that response."

Deadaim walked out the arena without any resistance.

"Shoot him!"

"Are you crazy? The man just put an arrow into the Emperor's head from a thousand paces away!"

"You swore an oath!"

"Yeah, you know what? You can take your oath and stick it..."

Loyalty was a slippery subject where kingdoms were concerned so Deadaim altered his perception, allowed for more than one answer to his meaning for life and signed on with a baron who was trying to take a part of King Rot's domain.

"Surrender or die, Baron!"

"I surrender!"

"Okay, now tell that insane archer you hired to do the same!"

The castle was taken but the tower was not. He was stationed high and they below. A hundred men pinned down by a lone sniper with bow and arrow.

"Someone rush the tower!"

"Why don't you rush the tower?"

"Um, okay, change of plans. Bring me that baron!"

The Baron was brought forth and a sword held to his throat.

"Deadaim!"

"Yes, Baron?"

"You are relieved from duty!"

So the former Archer of the Realm slid down a rope, scaled the wall and fled the castle followed by Savage, Brutus and ten others who would learn it was better to be a friend than enemy to a man who valued loyalty.
Chapter 22: Slicer's Ascension

The Pursuit (Lawlessness)

They came upon them, six of them, in various stages of death. They moved with precision and quickly found one they were looking for.

"Help me" it hissed.

Slicer walked up and knelt next to the creature.

"We can help but first we must learn of something."

The Troll at death's door was in no condition to barter.

"What do want to know?"

"Tell us everything you remember about the ones who did this to you."

Slicer listened with detached attention for he'd heard it before. All the Elvin had. Even to ones such as them the reputation of Savage's squad had reached enormous proportion. He took in what he believed important and let his mind wander. The Troll would be kept alive until the full account was told. The Assassins Guild were experts in death and thus experienced in slowing its progress when it suited their purpose. His mind went to a previous life, one he wished to forget.

"Attack."

He stalked the master for it was his duty to obey. He was but a child, orphaned and alone. It was the way of the Guild. Nothing of the past could be used as leverage. All relationships were severed. Any who disobeyed were removed. He'd been given to the Guild in exchange for a life. His father made enemies who put a price on his head. He bowed before the Guild and struck a bargain.

"If you do not kill me I will give you my son."

"Why would we agree? We can take him after we take your head."

His father was not one to walk in empty-handed.

"I have gold hidden from all. I know the price offered for me and I propose to match it. I know the Guild's word is law so I offer a life in exchange. My son's for mine."

The deal was made and Slicer became property.

"Master?"

"What, slave?"

"What happened to the men who tried to kill my father?"

Smack!

"Speak not of the past. It no longer exists."

As he grew to adolescence he began to understand the ways. The men who paid for his father's demise would not survive. The Guild had rules but they could be breached if the price was right and the mission possible.

"We wish to remove a competitor."

"Who?"

"A banker. He is loaning money for too little profit. We wish to end his practice."

"One hundred gold pieces."

"Agreed."

Slicer's life became one of complete subordination and deceit. He would rise every day to meet a new challenge. The price of failure ran high.

"Another will attempt to kill you today. Find out which one and eliminate the problem."

The caves inside Mount Det were alive with slaves attempting to stay alive and kill others. At first, rumors were spread but soon everyone learned to keep their council because informing another of one's plans could backfire if the other was trying to end your life.

"I see you are still alive."

"Yes, Master."

"How did you kill the other?"

"I strangled her, Master."

He became an expert with the tools his kind employed. Knife, dart and poison were the preferred method for they were light, easily transported and took up little room. They were not there to learn battle tactics, not taught the ways of warfare, they were there for Death and her subtle charms to achieve her means.

"Become one with the shadow. Learn to stay within its shelter."

Stealth was the key followed by quick and lethal attack. Silence was valued over all else. As he furthered his skills he rose higher in the mountain. The caves near the top were absent of sound.

"Another has been chosen. You are warned."

He waited. His eyes had adjusted long ago. His heart beat at a fraction of its normal rate, his breathing slowed to an imperception. The other was out there doing the same. It was a war of patience and the game won through iron-clad resolve. He heard the slightest of sounds. He smiled. His adversary had lost.

"I see you are alive."

"Yes, Master."

"How did you kill the other?"

"I slit his throat."

The other had been good. He was better. Slicer watched as the other moved, so slowly if he hadn't heard the other's heartbeat he wouldn't have known he was there. It took the other an hour to traverse ten feet. It took Slicer one stroke to end the game.

The Guild was not for the arrogant, the impatient or the reckless. All traits unwanted were eliminated by others without the flaws.

"The slave of Terminus has drawn your name."

"He will die."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because he believes he cannot."

Attrition was high but the Guild was wise. They targeted some for extinction, others for promotion, a few for membership. Slicer had found a home.

"You must shed the past."

"Yes, Master."

"We cannot do it for you."

"Yes, Master."

"Go and become what you were meant to be."

It was the final task, one taken by all who would enter Death's domain. He found him at home, sitting alone counting his precious gold.

"Hello, Father."

The other's eyes opened wide for he believed his child dead. It was the reason he chose him, he believed him weak. It was a mistake of great proportions.

"You have done the deed?"

"Yes, Master."

"I am no longer your master, welcome to the Guild."

Slicer came out of his memories when he heard something.

"What did you say?"

The Troll, knowing who he was dealing with but wishing to prolong the inevitable, stalled.

"The two Midglings said they were going someplace" it hissed.

"Where?"

"I am having difficulty remembering."

It was the wrong answer. All life was both fragile and resilient. It only took knowledge of which parts would kill and which would not. The Elvin studied their art with fanaticism.

"No! Not again! Please stop!"

Pressure placed in some areas, pain delivered to others. The Troll was alive, barely so, and suffering the consequences of eluding Elvin desires.

"Where?" Slicer said in a whisper.

"The Lazy River! They said they were going to the Lazy River!"

Knowledge was key. It could unlock doors as well as open mouths. It was information, secrets, power. The Elvin were through with the Troll. He was allowed to find peace, to enter Death's realm and join his comrades. The Elvin were not sadistic by nature, they were beyond moral clauses. They held no feeling for others, no compassion for it was weakness. They were anything but weak.
Chapter 23: A War Of Roses

The Siege (Castle Nirvana)

She was where she wished to be, with those she cherished and adored.

"Hello, My Queen" he said in a whisper.

"Please, do not rise."

The infirmary was full. Even though the men in her employ were without equal on the battlefield they were still susceptible to the same things all were in a world which, at times, seemed intent on removing them from its surface.

"How do you feel?"

"Much better. I believe I can take my post again if the nurse would only allow it."

She smiled at the youth for that's what he was; a young man barely out of his teenage years fighting on her behalf against a foe of unlimited numbers.

"There will be time for that. The walls are adequately staffed so it would be better if you were completely healed before you rise again."

The walls were actually understaffed but she lied for she had to. The youth was anything but better. He was pale as the waxen moon, parched of throat and weak as a lamb. He'd come down with the fever. It had run its course through her army and only the quick thinking of Clearview saved the entire force from the ailment.

"We have a number of men complaining of chills and a cough, My Queen."

"How many?"

"Twenty as of now but I fear it will grow if we do nothing."

They had placed those who were sick in isolation. The cough appeared to be the cause. Transmission through the air was a dangerous epidemic if the population was confined to one area. They'd been lucky.

"Nurse Comfort?"

"Yes, My Queen?"

"How many have we lost?"

Nurse Comfort had been with her from the start. She was incredibly kind, efficient in the ways of medicine and still held compassion for others in her heart. Mother Nature felt if she were to die, Comfort would be a fine replacement.

"I am sorry, My Queen, we have lost half of them."

Gaia's eyes watered at the thought. They were her subjects. She had inherited them from another but it didn't matter; they were the good of the realm and she their provider. She wiped her eyes for the time to weep was later.

"Will the others survive?"

Comfort looked her in the eye and spoke the wisest words Nature had heard in days.

"They will if they do not lose hope, My Queen. Blight fights them with depression. Please do not let him win."

Gaia scanned the room and could feel the despair, the sadness, the fear. It was an evil tool the Prince employed for it wrought havoc upon the mind and doomed the mortal soul. She was witness to its full might during the early days of the siege.

"What is that sound, Councilor?"

"It is Blight, My Queen. He locates those with sorrow and furthers their grief."

The sound was on the wind. A whispering of dread, a howling of madness.

"One of you has abandoned another. One who was dependent upon you, trusted you, needed you."

His voice was like an echo without reverberation, a coldness in the already bitter air.

"She waited for you. She believed in you. She was crying your name but you did not heed her call."

The men on the walls were silent for all could feel the power in the Prince's words. They might not ring full of fact but they held hollow truths which were sometimes more painful to hear.

"She died alone, scared and frightened. You left when you said you wouldn't. You never returned. You promised you would."

The effect was gloom among the ranks. They were aware of their own shortcomings, their own failures, their many faults. For most it was something to dwell over, make right and try to improve. For one it was not.

He stood with tears in his eyes as others took notice and rushed to intervene.

"Nightwind! No! Get down!"

He stood on the wall, overlooking the creatures of nightmares, the ones his love had worried about, the ones he swore to protect her from.

"What is he doing, Councilor?"

"He is the one Blight was looking for, the one his voice truly speaks to."

His friends almost made it, were within inches when the one named Nightwind made a decision, spoke a prayer and leapt to his death.

The memory was always with her. She had failed one who counted on her, one who believed in her, one willing to die for her. She vowed it would not happen again. She made a decision. It was time to act.

She moved to the center of the room, an aura surrounding her, all eyes following. They were deathly sick, could not hold food down and were aware they might die. They didn't care. She was the reason they fought. She was life itself and they would give theirs in exchange for hers.

The ground was packed dirt, tread upon by so many it felt solid as stone. She stood still and her aura intensified. She spoke from the heart.

"I love you all."

Tears began to form.

"You are the lifeblood of the realm, the protectors of good, the righteous few."

They lay in silence mesmerized. She was speaking to them alone, they knew she spoke to all. As if in prayer, she bowed her head in submission to their cause.

"Do not give in. His power is one of decline, one of lessening, one of death. He holds nothing over those who fight his ways for his is a lesser source, an evil one which holds no sway here."

There was something in the room, Comfort could feel its presence and she looked upon the Mother with a tingling sensation as her eyes watered not from sadness but a feeling of wonder, a feeling of joy, a feeling of power from one who wielded a true gift.

"I am Gaia Nature. I will never give in, never surrender, for I hold what he cannot."

A single tear fell from her eye.

"I am the deliverer of life, the power of growth, the gift of birth."

As she spoke the tear entered the stone-hard dirt and a plant began to grow.

"You will not lose. It is impossible for wrong to defeat right. You are the line; that which he must breach to achieve victory."

The plant grew to the height of her hip and a bloom appeared. She held out her hand and a flower blossomed.

"The walls of Nirvana are strong, high and deep. They are solid and true, unyielding, unbroken. They are not made of stone, however, they are made of flesh."

She looked them all in the eye and they sat up as one for they finally understood.

"You are the stone. You are the wall."

Their hearts quickened as adrenaline began to flow.

"And I know this to be true as I know the sun will rise again; your wall can never be breached."

They stood for they could not do otherwise. The power of Nature was a force without equal. The defenders of the realm would lose no more that day and the walls would be reinforced by those who were witness to Gaia's gift.

"Mother Nature."

"Yes, Councilor?"

"We have a problem."

They moved through the castle at a speed which indicated worry. They didn't care. They were definitely in a frightened mood.

"When did this happen?"

"We noticed it this morning, My Queen."

General Shield was in attendance along with Councilor Clearview. They had been her inner circle for so long she sometimes was shocked when they were not in the room. One other had been asked to attend.

"Hawkeye?"

"Yes, My Queen?"

"Were you wrong? Is Savage capable of this?"

The question came because the water supply had been poisoned. The castle itself contained a well which was fed by an underground spring. The spring was the weak link.

"No, My Queen, he is not capable of this."

The spring ran deep underground and it would take a concerted effort to poison the water.

"But it is contaminated?"

"Yes, My Queen."

"Then how can that be?"

The answer was both a relief and worry to the leaders in the room because the man they were talking about was rather difficult to pin down. He was a mercenary, a hired killer, who held no loyalty to any single monarch. He was wanted by more authorities than not, involved in more overthrows than an Ogre at an egg-toss competition and could count on one hand minus a thumb the number of friends he had. Surprisingly, one of them was in the room.

"I believe he is no longer in charge, My Queen" Hawkeye replied.

"Why do you believe that?"

The answer came from the alternate side of the mercenary. Savage was brilliant with military tactics, saw the end game before others saw the initial salvo and held another quality which set him apart; he was ethical in a fight even if the side he chose was not.

Hawkeye had been present. He'd signed on with a queen who was attempting to divorce a king. It was a very strange little war.

"Princess Bridgette Heart, may I present Duke Andrew Omen."

He arrived with a rose.

"How beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you."

It did the job, won her affections and they were married the same year. As a present he gave her another rose. Strangely, she returned the gesture.

"This is for you."

"And this is for you."

It became something of a ritual for the two. Every event, from birthdays to strange pagan holidays were celebrated with the same gifts.

"This is for you."

"And this is for you."

The Princess' parents died and they became the King and Queen of Hearts. Things were going swimmingly until a scullery maid, a silly little household servant, caught the King's fancy.

"How dare you cheat on me!"

"I am so sorry, My Wife, it will never happen again. Please forgive me and accept these as my personal apology."

They were, of course, roses. Hundreds of roses in every color imaginable.

She accepted because not doing so was unpleasant. They were the King and Queen. She was technically the Monarch but since he was male it was his rule. She could seek a divorce but he could also deny the charges. She decided to return his favor.

"Here you are, My Husband."

"What are these for?"

"My apologies. I cheated on you."

By then the two were openly opposed to the other. It arrived at the point where they were planting gardens for apologetic purposes. After time the inevitable arose and both hired small armies to gain control. Their reasoning was sound. If one died the other would be free to rule alone. Savage, Brutus and Deadaim signed on with the Queen. So did Hawkeye. Since Deadaim and Hawkeye knew each other introductions were given.

"You were that guy?"

"Uh-huh."

"And you shot Deadaim to a draw?"

"Yep."

"Remind me not to tick you off, okay?"

"You got it."

They had the King surrounded, which wasn't so hard, since the man decided to sneak away from his bodyguards to visit the current woman of his dreams in her cottage by the river. Savage, knowing the ways of adulterers, learned the identity of the King's newest mistress and placed her under surveillance. When the sentry reported seeing a shadowy figure entering the cottage Savage quickly encircled and awaited the arrival of the Queen. It should've been over. The King had no escape. He would be forced to abdicate and the Queen would become sole Monarch until she remarried. It didn't turn out that way.

"Burn that place down!"

Savage was not of the mind to do so.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Hold on there, Your Highness. We are not burning a cottage with an innocent woman inside."

The look she gave him was not pleasant.

"She is not innocent, she is an usurper! You will do as I say or lose your head!"

The Queen had every reason to believe her orders would be followed because ever since she hired Savage to take arms against the King they had routed his forces with ease. The fact the Queen's side won so easily with Savage in command somehow escaped her knowledge.

"Your Highness, you hired us to compel the King to abdicate the throne. If you will allow me I will walk down there and receive notification of his willingness to do so. You will win and rule sovereign."

It seemed, to him, a logical and simple solution. She would get what she wanted without putting the lives of others at risk. Strangely, she seemed hesitant. When she finally spoke it was Savage who hesitated.

"Fine, go and receive his abdication. But bring the woman to me."

He then knew. Everyone knew. She would seek revenge on one who could not offer resistance. Savage made a decision and nodded his head.

The walk toward the cottage was unsettling. Although they were on his side there were thirty arrows pointed directly at the structure he was moving toward. He reached the door, knocked, waited, it opened and he entered.

"What's taking so long?"

"The King probably still holds hope he can somehow prevail. Savage will explain the truth, My Queen."

The door opened and Savage returned.

"What was his response?" the Queen all but sneered.

Savage ignored her completely.

"All right, listen up!"

The mercenaries did.

"The King has accepted all our demands!"

A murmuring in the ranks began as a lone voiced spoke higher.

"He has agreed to abdicate?" the Queen asked in disbelief.

Savage finally acknowledged her existence.

"No."

The Queen appeared confused so he clarified.

"As of this moment all mercenaries who remain under my command are now in the employ of the King! All who choose to side with the Queen are now the opposition!"

The Queen's eyes opened wide.

"How dare you!"

Her tempered flared high.

"I will have your head for this!"

She had with her a squad of ten personal bodyguards who'd been in her employ since she took the throne.

"Guards, arrest him!"

Campaigns, wars and battles can hinge on a single moment, a sliver of time where a choice was made and the outcome decided.

Ten raised their swords and moved to arrest one.

"Bad idea."

Twenty different weapons were raised by men who made wiser choices.

"The next step is your last."

And ten who made a vow to serve one found themselves in a very, very dangerous situation.

"My Queen?" a guard asked.

She almost couldn't answer. Things were happening which she believed impossible.

"Yes?" she replied.

The Guard at the front, the leader of the squad, a man of many battles and the wounds proving it was true, stared down arrowheads pointing directly at his face while he answered.

"Maybe you should reconsider."

So one of the weirdest wars ever fought continued. The agreement with the King allowed the man to remain in power so long as he paid Savage's mercenaries what the Queen had promised. The King readily agreed with a wicked grin till Savage explained the kicker.

"You will also pay your men and send them home. If you hire others and set them upon the Queen, I will return with my mercenaries and take your throne. If she hires others and sets them against you, I will also return and take her crown."

So neither the King nor Queen could act for they realized Savage's plan. If either killed the other with hired hands Savage would return and take their rule. Therefore their war took on new dimensions.

"This is for you, My Wife, sorry about the knife. I don't know how it slipped from my hand."

"And this is for you, My Husband. I, too, am sorry for I had no idea arsenic was a poison."

And so the War of Roses went on with both royals subsidizing local nurseries to the point where they were able to charge exorbitant prices for flowers grown in manure which cost almost nothing to produce.

"So, Sergeant Savage would not poison a water source?"

"No, My Queen, he is incapable of harming the innocent."

"Then who is in charge of the enemy's army?"

"That, My Queen, is something I intend to find out."
Chapter 24: Black and Blue in Tombstone

The Journey (Lawlessness)

They had been traveling for hours and were beginning to wonder if it was the proper direction.

"Are you sure this is the right way?"

Hesitation was not the answer Brutus wanted.

"You don't know, do you?"

Savage turned and looked his friend in the eyes as he spoke.

"Nope."

Brutus looked around and saw nothing to orient upon. They'd been using the sun as their guidepost but it was only good for general direction, not the one they needed, not specific location.

"Deadaim!"

"Yes, Brutus?" the archer in the rear yelled back.

"Do you know if we're going in the right direction?"

"Nope!"

Brutus turned again to face his Sergeant. It was becoming hot and the camels were not exactly thoroughbreds.

"We could die out here, you know?"

"Yep."

Brutus again craned his neck to view the entire expanse. It was pointless.

"Everything looks the same."

"Yep."

In all directions the scenery never changed. Even a compass was useless when whichever way the arrow pointed revealed the same picture.

"There's nothing but sand."

"Yep."

Brutus didn't like sand. Actually, he didn't like that particular sand. If the sand ran into the ocean he was all for it. It was the sand which didn't, the sand which led nowhere, the sand which promised a slow and agonizing death he wasn't fond of.

"And why are we going this way?"

"Because the Midglings said so."

Brutus turned his head and viewed the two sitting atop their camel with childish, wide-eyed glee.

"I can't believe we're riding a camel!"

"Me neither!"

They had been at it for hours. Everything was new, exciting and a wonder to behold.

"Ooh! Look at that!"

"Wow!"

Even everyday things.

"Mr. Brutus?"

For some reason they'd decided he was the answer to their questions.

"Yes, Midglings?"

"What is that?"

"That's a lizard."

"Ooh!"

They'd been at it a while so he waited patiently for what he knew would come next.

"Mr. Brutus?"

"Yes, Midglings?"

"What's a lizard?"

They were innocent as newborns. Nothing was off-limits to their amazed imaginations. The barbarian chose to play with them.

"It's a baby dragon."

Savage smiled as he watched the two little creatures stare, with mouths wide open, at the small reptile which did in fact resemble the most dangerous creature in the realms. He allowed Brutus to play games with them because it kept the large barbarian occupied. Savage himself was also a bit worried because he, too, did not like the idea of dying in a desert following the directions of Midglings who couldn't discern the difference between a harmless insect-eater and the mightiest of beasts. He decided to ask again.

"Midglings?"

"Yes, Sergeant Savage?" they both responded with enthusiastic yells.

"Are we still headed in the right direction?"

He waited as they sat there, only the sound of wind and grunting camels breaking the silence.

"Yes, Sergeant Savage, this is the right way" Stu replied.

Neither Savage, Brutus nor Deadaim could understand how in the world the little beings could possibly tell direction but since they had no compass and the two dumplings were so positive with their answers they decided they must've acquired directional abilities from underground living.

Savage looked again to the front and saw the same thing he'd seen before; sand. He debated for a second whether he'd made the correct decision, decided he really had no choice in the matter, relaxed his shoulders, settled back on the hump and resigned himself to Fate's desires. His reasoning was simple.

"Okay, I guess we might as well take the Midglings where they want to go. They say they're able to navigate their way to the Lazy River and since we definitely don't want to turn around and deal with those Elvin in a forest I suggest we go along with them."

Both Brutus and Deadaim learned long before to trust in their Sergeant's instincts. It didn't mean they were void of questions, though.

"What if they're wrong?"

"Yeah, what if they lead us in the wrong direction?"

Savage looked at his friends and smiled.

"Then we're in more trouble than I thought."

The reason for their worries was the past. They'd been to Lawlessness before.

"Welcome to The Tombstone."

They'd done what many of their kind had tried; become respectable businessmen.

"What'll it be?"

"Whiskey."

"Coming right up."

The odd part of becoming legitimate to mercenaries was where they had to go in order to implement their ideas.

"I think we should open a saloon."

"A saloon?"

"Yep."

"But we're wanted by the authorities in every town around here?"

"Yep, that's why we're going where the authorities are not."

They entered Lawlessness in searched of a town which had just the right amount of braggadocio to suit their desires.

"Death's Valley?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

The reasoning was simple.

"Because the men we want are the ones who think they're the best, the ones who think they've got what it takes to take it from others, the ones who would like to challenge a town bragging it's so tough Death claimed it herself ."

So they bought a run-down hotel, redesigned the interior, decided on a name and opened for business.

"How many cards?"

"I'll take three."

Gambling and liquor were their bread and butter, they sold no food so it had to be. Brutus went behind the bar, Savage roamed the floor and Deadaim sat in the balcony, bow within reach reminding all to keep their weapons at bay. It was an overnight sensation.

"Where are we playing cards tonight?"

"The Tombstone. I like to relax when gambling."

Its reputation as the place to go for an evening of tranquil entertainment quickly grew.

"Oops, sorry about spilling my drink all over you."

"Hey, no problem, everyone spills drinks once in a while."

The change in personality for the criminal element which entered the establishment was due to three rather intimidating figures.

"That's my seat!"

"No it isn't!"

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?"

Tough guys all had one thing in common; they thought they were tougher than all others. Except when the others were three legendary mercenaries with the reputation of never being bested in combat.

"You know what? I see another chair over there so I'll just...."

"No, no, no, take this one. I insist."

With the need for defensive postures removed the real reason for those who entered The Tombstone flourished.

"What'll it be?"

"A bottle of your finest bourbon. I'm feeling lucky tonight."

The saloon was exceedingly popular because the owners took their cut early, before the games began.

"It's one gold piece to play. No cheating or fighting. If you attempt either you'll pay the piper."

"Who's the piper?"

Thunk!

"Holy...!"

"Deadaim's the piper."

With cheating eliminated competition grew tighter, games lasted longer and libation flowed freely.

"That'll be six gold pieces."

"Man, how long have I been here?"

"Six hours. And now it's time to go home."

They were amazingly successful and would've probably kept at it if not for one slight detail which walked through the doors one evening.

"One gold piece to play."

The man placed the payment in Savage's hand and sat down.

"Deadaim."

"Yes, Sergeant?"

"Keep an eye on that man at table nine, the one in black with his back to the wall, I've got a bad feeling about him."

The night grew long as the games grew tighter and things were looking as though Savage was wrong when Deadaim spotted the problem. It wasn't at the table where the man sat, it was at the table next to him, the table where the other man sat; the man who was sitting in a chair losing money. A chair which happened to give him a perfect view of the cards in three players' hands one table over. Three players who were losing heavily.

"Sergeant."

"Yes, Deadaim?"

"Watch the man in blue. He's signaling the other players' cards to the man in black."

Sure enough, they were cheating. Savage had to give them credit, though, for it was a rather difficult con to pull off. They had to find the right chairs at the right time and keep everything under the table. Literally, under the table. While the man in blue held his cards in one hand he gave finger motions to the man in black with the other, the one resting on his lap, the one nobody at his table could spot.

"All right, I've got an idea."

Savage bid his time while the others bid their hands. When the pot grew large but the last cards un-dealt he made his move.

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"There's been a discrepancy with your gold piece. You'll need to come with me."

"But I'm in the middle of my hand."

"I'm sure these gentlemen won't mind. Do you gentlemen?"

"Nope."

"Fine with me."

"Could care less, Mr. Savage."

The man in blue rose and Deadaim watched as the man in black noticed, did a double take at his cards and then looked at the pot one more time. He swore he could see beads of sweat form on the man's brow.

"So, how's it look now?"

"It looks like the man in black is having a heart attack. Where's the man in blue?"

"I trussed him up and tied him to the hitching post."

The two watched as the table in back became a contest of wills. The other three had been losing for so long they were at the point where large bets were the only way to get their money back. They were also somewhat suspicious of the man in black but since their backs were turned they never saw the man in blue's signals. The pot in the middle of the table was enormous.

"Now we'll see if our suspicions are correct."'

Their suspicions were that cheaters, in reality, were horrible card-players. Cards weren't really much more than odds. One pair was easier to get than two. Two pair was easier than three-of-a-kind and so on. The game essentially came down to math; weigh the possibilities of your hand versus the likelihood another's was higher. Savage believed cheaters were intellectually inferior counters. Deadaim felt the same. So they watched from the balcony as the man in black stayed in the game because to do otherwise was to give back almost everything he'd won. It appeared the game was about to called for the bets had gone around the table and were at the last man, a man with only a few gold coins in front of him, a man who looked at his cards one more time, made a decision, reached into his pocket and pulled out one of the largest nuggets anyone could ever recall seeing.

"I raise."

And every other game in the house halted.

"Wow! Look at that rock!"

"It must weigh a pound."

As with all contests, the higher the stakes the larger the crowd. Everyone gathered around the table to see which player would walk away with a hunk of ore so big it could do severe damage if thrown. The bets would go around the table again. Match the small boulder or quit. The players asked for a confirmation on the value of the nugget and Brutus quickly did the calculation.

"Twenty-five gold pieces."

Since Brutus was a barbarian, and an enormous one at that, nobody questioned his computation abilities.

"I'm in."

"I'm in."

And so it came down to the man in black, the man with ten gold pieces in front of him, the man who was looking around in desperation for his friend in blue.

"Um, I seem to be a little short."

Poker was, at times, a game of appearance. Dress well and others would likely believe one had wealth. Dress like a pauper and receive a beggar's reception. The man in black was dressed appropriately but not necessarily over the top. He might have wealth or he might not. Either way the ones at the table weren't going to help him. All they had to do was wait him out. If he couldn't come up with the money to match the bet then he was done. It was his call. The man next to him was the one who'd raised. If the man in black called, the game was set and the cards would be shown. It all came down to money and it appeared he would get no help from the audience. As he searched for his partner to come to his aid and lend him a few gold coins something caught the attention of another at his table.

"That jade locket around your neck would cover the bet."

The man in black looked down and, sure enough, there it was; the price of admission to a game of chance, a game unrigged, a game he knew not whether he could win.

"I'm in."

The pot was set, the cards turned over and the victor elated.

"Drinks are on me!"

Everyone cheered but one. Even the other losers at the table were happy because the winner was a regular and they would one day get their money back. The man in black, though, was anything but pleased. He stood and made his way to the door. As he stepped outside one of his questions was answered.

"Yep, that's your partner in crime there. I guess he got all tied up and couldn't help you with that last hand."

The man in black turned with venom in his eyes. Savage quickly sized him up and came to the conclusion the man was a stone-cold killer. One of those men who would slit a stranger's throat if it served even the smallest of purposes.

"You did this?" he rasped.

"Yep. I told you not to cheat."

He could see the fury, the rage and something else, something darker than the other emotions in the man's eyes; malice.

"You will pay for this."

Savage was not one for threats.

"What did you say?"

The man stood back because something about the one he faced, the mercenary with a reputation of violence tempered with sympathy, suddenly changed. Savage became, in an instant, the epitome of his name. He loomed over the man in black and the other knew he could not win. The timing wasn't right, the setting not to his liking but he was not a coward either. It appeared blood was to be spilled and he prepared himself for the challenge. He was saved by his partner who had finally unbound his ropes.

"No! Cutter, no!" he said as leapt between them and began ushering the man in black away.

The one named Cutter said nothing, only stared at Savage as if to burn his image in his memory. Savage said nothing either for he was doing the same. Both men realized an absolute truth that night in front of The Tombstone in Death's Valley; they had an enemy for life and one day a reckoning would come.

Savage went back inside to survey his operation when the detail which had walked through his doors spoke. It was not the man in black who had caused them to abandon their quest for legitimate employment but the one in brown leather, the one who'd been watching, the one with Queen Ann Archy's symbol on his breast.

"Are you this establishment's owner?"

Savage was intrigued because it was obvious by the man's clothing he was some kind of soldier.

"I'm one of them, yes."

"I'm afraid you'll need to shut down."

Savage was even more intrigued.

"Why?"

"Because you are breaking the Queen Overarchyng Law; there will be no law. By insisting on no cheating you are in direct conflict with her proclamation."

While Savage was intrigued he wasn't necessarily in agreement.

"It's not a law, it's a business policy."

"I am sorry but the distinction does not work. You and your partners have broken the Queen's decree and are banished from the Land of Lawlessness."

"You're banishing us?"

"Yes."

Savage was then fully intrigued.

"You and what army?"

The man spoke honestly when he answered.

"Me and the Queen's army."

And so Savage, Brutus and Deadaim become the first and only people to have broken a law in a land without laws and were subsequently banished from a place where convicts fled to avoid prosecution.

"What happens if we're caught?"

"I suppose what the man said would happen."

"I don't like the implications of that, Sergeant."

"I don't either, Brutus."

The two were riding side by side as the Midglings expressed delight at every passing moment.

"Ooh, look at that!"

"What is it?"

"I think they call it a sand dune."

"Ooh!"

They were making progress for the camels were healthy and accustomed to Troll transportation so Humans and Midglings were something of a delight for the desert horses. Unfortunately, they had no way to tell if their progress was taking them to safety or trouble.

"Did he really say we'd be burned at the stake?"

"No he said we'd be turned into steaks. He said we'd be chopped up and fed to the Orcs."

Brutus thought on the description for a moment.

"Okay, I don't like that either."

"Me neither."

So the two mercenaries, once again, asked the Midglings if they were positive in their direction of travel. Stu glanced at Wort who shrugged his shoulders , nodded his head and went back to gawking at the mundane features surrounding them on every side. Stu, on the other hand, became composed, closed his eyes and sat still. He remained that way for a time, allowing for silence only interrupted by wind and camel grunting, then looked up after a few seconds and responded.

"Yes, Sergeant Savage, we're headed in the right direction."

Savage cold no longer contain his curiosity.

"How do you know?"

And the Midgling's answer caused him to question whether little people were actually insane people trapped in tiny bodies.

"The camels told me so."
Chapter 25: A Killer Imagination

The Siege (Blight's Encampment)

Prince Blight was in one of his rarer moods.

"You slime-colored, mold-encrusted, disgusting piece of goo! You foul-smelling, vomit-inducing, horrendous pile of poo! You mildew-making...!"

The Troll Toodrake had made a slight miscalculation in the burrowing aspect of their plan. Everything had been going well until a little mishap caused a lot of confusion.

"How goes the tunnel?"

"Um..."

The idea had been easy to imagine but difficult to implement. It had been discarded by Savage when he led Blight's forces for two reasons. First, it was about as unethical as it got. Second, it was incredibly dangerous which made it creature-consuming and unlikely to win him any favors with the beasts. Cutter cared less.

"Dig!"

The Orcs looked on in bewilderment.

"Oh, for the love of...! Toodrake!"

The leader of Trolls appeared at his side.

"Yes, Commander?"

"Tell the Orcs to dig!"

Toodrake was also confused.

"Here?"

"Yes! Tell them to start digging!"

So Toodrake passed on the orders and was immediately besieged with questions about the sanity of the new Commander. As was usually the case, the leader of the Orcs dealt with the Troll. Orcs really were rather antagonistic creatures, especially where Trolls were concerned.

"He say dig here?" Gronk asked.

"Yes" Troodrake hissed in reply.

The Orc looked down and again posed the same question.

"Here?"

"Yes!"

The trouble the Orc had was the material the new Commander wished them to burrow through.

"It solid rock."

They were standing on a small crag which was to the rear of the encampment. Small shrubbery could be seen, barely hanging on, growing only where rock gave way to bits of dirt. The area Cutter chose to start his excavation was devoid of any plant life whatsoever.

"I know it's solid rock but the Commander said to dig here" the Troll explained with limited patience.

Again Gronk looked down.

"How dig through rock?"

Toodrake had been hoping the Orc would not bring up that particular question. He didn't know how to dig through rock because it was not something his people did. They dug in dirt. It was softer and, he assumed, a much easier medium to work with in the digging trade.

"You break it up and remove it" he hissed and was pleased with his response.

"How break?"

Again he wished the Orc wouldn't ask questions he had no easy answer for. He was sent to relay commands, though, so he went with what he thought might work.

"Take big hammers and hit the rock."

He waited as the pig-faced beast thought over his rather brilliant solution and was quickly surmising he had developed a good rock-digging plan when the stupid Orc asked yet another question.

"Why not Ogres do it?"

Toodrake didn't know. Ogres were probably a better idea since they already held clubs but he hadn't been told to use Ogres so he again made up a reason on the spot.

"The Ogres are doing something else."

He was pleased he'd outthought the Orc and was enjoying winning his mental battle when again the pink swine queried.

"What they doing?"

Toodrake hadn't thought far enough in advance to reply. He was preparing a detailed explanation for what the Ogres were tasked with when something entered his cranial matter which both disgusted and made him smile.

"It is not your place to ask, Orc, it is your place to do!"

The phrase had been one of Savage's favorites. Except instead of Orcs he'd said Toad. He was feeling a nastiness in his stomach for using a phrase his most hated enemy employed but took solace in the fact the Orc was willing to accept the answer for what it was.

"Okay, I tell Orcs hit rock."

And so the hole-digging process began. The Orcs were given war hammers and went about smashing the ground with somewhat unenthusiastic fashion. The reasoning was simple. Orcs were too stupid to remember why they were smashing rocks and when it dawned on them the business was hard work they quickly began questioning the reason for the exercise.

"This stupid!"

"You stupid!"

"What you say?"

They then turned the hammers on themselves and soon a full-fledged battle broke out. It led to an interruption of the work and was why Toodrake found himself in front of Blight being bombarded with insults intended to cause injury.

"... you wart-faced, bog-dwelling, worthless stream of spew! You odor-reeking, rancid-breathing, snot-nose piece of...!"

He'd been standing there for quite a while and was questioning whether it was true Trolls were an inbred compilation of slug and marsh-moss when Cutter entered the tent.

"How dare you interrupt me!"

Cutter bowed his head before replying.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness, but I believe I have come up with a solution to our tunneling problem."

Toodrake stood there listening with rapt concentration as Cutter explained what he intended to do.

"And who will you send on this mission?"

"Half the remaining Elvin, Your Highness."

The Troll couldn't believe what he was hearing. He'd heard rumors the stuff existed but never seen its proof before. Cutter was not only implying the rumors were true but they were extremely close by.

"What of the remaining Elvin?"

"I believe they should serve the highest purpose, Your Highness."

Toodrake wasn't sure where the man was headed but he could tell one thing; Cutter always held something up his sleeve. He'd met others like him; dishonest, untrustworthy, sadistic and ingeniously cruel. Toodrake was warming up to the man for he was his kind of creature. He watched as Blight made a decision.

"Okay, we'll go with your plan for now."

"Thank you, Your highness."

"Now leave!"

Cutter left to implement his ideas as Toodrake waited to hear what his future held.

"Where was I? Oh yes!"

It did not sound promising.

"You spineless-walking, tooth-rot talking, garbage-smelling stew! You...!"

Cutter's mind was working as it never had before. He found himself in the unique position of controlling others whose expertise and backgrounds opened up so many possibilities he was awash with different ideas. He decided to use one group to further two gains.

"I wish to speak to Blade."

"Wait."

He did as told. He was Commander of the Forces, second-in-command to only Prince Blight himself but the ones he was dealing with were something of a special breed.

"He will see you now."

He nodded to the sentry and made his way inside their perimeter. He'd heard they were secretive but never quite grasped how much till he moved through their encampment and saw no sign of anything. No tents, no fires, no warriors; nothing. He could see his destination for it was the only structure standing. It appeared abandoned. He doubted it was so. He entered and immediately felt death awaiting his arrival.

"You are the one called Cutter."

It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"I am Blade."

The Elvin he faced was about five feet tall, probably one hundred twenty pounds and if he were Human the cutthroat would've laughed at his attempt to be threatening.

"I have heard of you."

As it was, Cutter could feel the power in the being. He could sense the complete lack of fear, the knowledge others lived because he allowed it, the aura of Death herself surrounding her disciple and it was unsettling to the nerves.

"What would you have of us?"

The plan had been forming in his brain for some time. When Savage opened the door Cutter saw the opportunity. When Blight chose him to lead he seized its promise and put the idea in motion.

"I would have you take something from those you despise. I would have you reap vengeance on those who abandoned your kind."

The Elvin listened while Cutter explained his desires. When the other agreed Cutter felt his heart-rate quicken for his dreams were within reach, the ones he needed to pull off the plan were on his side and only time could stave off what he desired the most. He was on his way to becoming a god.
Chapter 26: Melting A Frosty Exterior

The Journey (Lawlessness)

The camels were taking a break at a watering hole while the mercenaries listened to the Midgling's explanation.

"... and then she gave us the amulets..."

The information was surprising because they'd never heard its kind before.

"... uh-huh, she gave us both one but Wort lost his so now I'm the only one who can understand..."

They'd done a double-take when the Midgling first stated he could talk to the camels and asked for a verification.

"What are they saying now?"

"Well, Humpy says Mr. Brutus should go on a diet."

The mercenaries weren't convinced they were dealing with a rational being so asked for proof.

"Um, okay, Spitty says there's an oasis about one hour from here. Do you want to go there?"

The mercenaries discussed and came to the same conclusion; unless the Midglings were somehow previous Lawlessness desert-dwellers there was no way they could know the location of an oasis an hour away. They allowed the camels to lead and, sure enough, an hour later they arrived at a secluded section of desert hidden among rocks camouflaged the same color as the land surrounding it. They let the camels drink and were listening as one Midgling told their story.

"... and then the Elfin blew up their other house so the Piglets moved in with the Care-Bear..."

As Stu recounted their journey Wort wandered around the secluded spot. It was a slight depression, nothing much to look at and virtually unrecognizable within the surrounding landscape. It was hidden because the ground had become a little more uneven as they traveled. The flatness became a bit more elevated, insignificant sand granules became small pebbles and eventually even boulders. Everything was still tan, still uniform but the topography began to shake itself up which allowed the underground spring, the one travelling beneath the dry and barren plain to finally emerge where a fissure formed.

"Hi, Humpy, how's the water?"

Wort asked the question because he was a polite individual. He could no longer talk with the animals without Mother Nature's amulet but, since he gleaned animals could indeed converse, he felt it rude not to ask their opinion even if he could not understand the reply.

The camel did not stop drinking, did not lift its mouth from the clear pond it was slurping. Instead, it merely focused in on the Midgling with its right eye and blinked.

"That good, huh?"

Another blink.

Wort was a courteous being, all Midglings were, because it was necessary where they came from. Cave dwelling did not come natural to the little ones, they were ever trying to expand, always experimenting with differing ways to open up their expanse, enlarge their environs for they enjoyed the gift of open air, free space and the waft of a gentle breeze. They lived in the ground because others lived above. They weren't happy about it but were also pragmatists; if living outside meant becoming meals to Trolls then they rather preferred living inside and remaining alive. Living inside meant confining themselves. Confinement brought with it closeness. Closeness brought a feeling of smothering. And smothering could only be countered with courtesy.

"Hi, Spitty, enjoying the water?"

Spitty was not exactly the most cordial of camels so didn't even give the Midgling a blink.

"Okay, I'll take that as a yes."

Wort was wandering the area with open-eyed wonder for he loved exploration. All exploration. Even the kind which got him and his friend expelled from Middlesome. It wasn't their fault, they were curious creatures after all.

It happened, as it always did with Midglings; when they had some free time and were ascertaining whether a particularly dark cavern was worth looking into.

"I don't know, Wort?"

"Come on, Stu! What could possibly happen?"

Stu, as with all their kind, contained a vast and expansive imagination so he could've easily come up with an answer to a most illogical question but was thwarted by one quirk, one slight twist of fate, Nature had decided to instill in one of her littlest creatures; the inability to access terrifying outcomes unless in a state of shock. It was their defense mechanism. Nature knew they had no chance against any they came across so she bypassed obvious solutions and relied upon one which had served other defensively-challenged animals in her care; she gave them the ability to play dead. She tried to teach them the art but ran into a small problem.

"Okay, little ones, play dead."

They did.

"Erk!"

"Oh! Oh the humanity!"

"Momma? Momma, is that you?"

Midglings were, unfortunately, the most dramatic beings in the realm. They couldn't quite grasp the idea of dropping to the ground without saying a few parting words so she decided they needed a hand.

"I am removing all thoughts of fear until you encounter it."

"Huh? What does that mean? How is that going to...?"

"Boo!"

Flop.

She couldn't remove fear itself, the feeling was ingrained, but she could alter their ways of thinking so they only had the general idea, not the thoughts associated with it.

"They say we shouldn't go in there."

"Yeah, I heard there were snakes and scorpions and other scary things."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh, but you know what?"

"What?"

"How bad could they be?"

"Good point! How bad could they be?"

So they would become curious, encounter what they inherently knew to be dangerous and faint on the spot.

"Hiss!"

Flop.

"Grrr!"

Flop.

"Roar!"

Flop.

The mechanism worked well for one simple reason; almost all creatures avoided eating already dead ones because they instinctively knew death didn't come about randomly. If they came across a creature which was obviously deceased but showed no signs of trauma they would leave it alone for they knew something must be wrong with it. So Midglings survived by playing the role of diseased carcasses whenever they encountered a beast capable of devouring them. Oh, they knew lions and tigers would eagerly gobble them on sight but what they couldn't do, what Mother Nature removed for their survival, was to imagine the rendering of flesh and tearing of limbs until they were actually in the presence of the predator.

"Is that a leopard?"

"Uh-huh, I believe it is."

"I heard they're dangerous."

"Uh-huh, me too. But I wonder...?"

"Growl!"

Flop.

So when Wort and Stu entered the darkest cavern in their part of the caves they were only following through on what Mother Nature designed them to do.

"Wow! It's really cold in here."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh, kind of spooky."

They moved further, always poking and prodding to see if they could encounter what they could not imagine. They were almost ready to turn around and go home when something caught their eye.

"Hey, is that a light?"

"I believe it is."

So they went to investigate and what they found mystified them.

"Is she alive?"

"It looks like she is."

She was the prettiest women they'd ever seen with black hair, red lips and snow-white skin. She was laying on a slab of stone with her eyes shut and hands clasped. She was illuminated by light shining through a crack in the cavern's ceiling. The illumination revealed another odd thing; she was entrapped in a block of ice.

"Hello!"

"Hey! Wake up in there!"

She appeared at ease. No deformities could be seen and they got the impression she was actually alive.

"What do we do?"

The question was a good one because they were Midglings and she a fully grown Human suspended in frozen water.

"I know! Let's tell the Humans in town. They'll probably know what to do" Stu exclaimed.

The town was called Detindale because it was located at the base of Mount Det. The Mountain of Det was the border between two empires; Mother Mayeye's realm and Father Time's.

"Good idea!"

So the two Midglings left the beautiful woman asleep on her slab and went to town. They were greeted as their kind always were.

"Get them!"

Flop.

Midglings had a rather troubling reputation because of Mother Nature's gift. Since they couldn't actually picture consequences to their actions they were, at times, a bit subject in their choices. Since they were curious by nature they tended to pick things up. Shiny things. Things other people viewed as belongings. Things Midglings found utterly fascinating.

"Ooh! Look at that!"

"Wow! What do you think it is?"

"I think it's a necklace of some kind."

"Why do you think it's laying under this mattress?"

"I don't know? Let's take it home and ask the others."

They were rather annoying creatures to the Humans who inhabited Detindale because, while they most definitely did remove belongings, they did not do so with evil intent.

"Wake up, Midglings."

They opened their eyes and found themselves in a cage. It was built specifically for Midgling control because they were actually quite adept at escaping confinement. The man speaking to them was the local sheriff. His name was Prince. He was neither large nor small, muscular nor skinny, handsome nor ugly and was an amazingly ineffective law enforcement officer. He held the job for one reason and one reason only; he was incredibly polite.

"Oh! Hello, Mr. Prince."

"Hi, Mr. Prince."

He looked upon them with eyes filled of two emotions; kindness and irritation. The Midglings reputation as thieves was somewhat misleading because while what they did, the actual removal of property was without doubt, the reasoning behind the behavior left all law-abiding citizens in a quandary. What does one do with a thief who didn't steal for personal gain? Midglings had no concept of personal property because they were born communal. Everything a Midgling owned was also the property of other Midglings. They didn't have the ability to discern personal belongings so were actually innocent of thievery from an intent point of view.

"Hello, Stu. Hello, Wort."

Sheriff Prince had the distinct pleasure of being the most incompetent officer because of two reasons; location and the criminal element itself. Midglings resided in the mountain which gave the town its identity. They were both a joy as neighbors and incredibly troublesome guests. They held no animosity toward any creatures which was where the troublesome aspect took on a new meaning for it was the utmost in cruelty to incarcerate a creature which had no idea it had done wrong. It was why Sheriff Prince was constantly under siege by his own citizens.

"Sheriff!"

"Yes, Mrs. Jones?"

"Those Midglings stole my earrings."

"I'll look right into it."

He was a frequent visitor to Middlesome and had befriended all, Stu and Wort included, which was why he had such a difficult time performing his job.

"Sheriff!"

"Yes, Mr. Smith?"

"Some Midgling took my gold piece."

"I'll look right into it."

If it weren't for his engaging personality Sheriff Prince would've been fired for incompetence within his first week of employment. It wasn't so much his inability to solve a crime as his inability to stop it in the first place.

"Okay, you two, turn your pant pockets inside out and let's see what you've got."

The routine was always the same. When a Midgling was spotted inside town-limits the citizens would shout, the little ones would faint, the Sheriff would lock them in the cage till they awoke and everyone would be shocked two tiny creatures with dispositions so fair could possibly have taken so many items.

"Isn't that my eyepiece?"

"Hey, that's my quill pen!"

"Is that...? Is that all my silverware?"

Midglings could've been the most successful burglars in the entire realm because they held two aspects which gave them a decided advantage; they couldn't conceive the consequences of getting caught and were so small they escaped the notice of virtually everyone until after they stole their goods.

"My mirror!"

"My hammer!"

"My comb!"

In the beginning the citizens of Detindale thought of removing their problem altogether. A vote had been held on whether to relocate their tiny brethren someplace else but when the time came for the tally it never went anywhere for a very simple reason; Midglings were so adorable, so innocent of intent if not the actual crime, nobody could bring themselves to evict a creature which would last all of one minute in the hazardous lands outside the mountain. So they learned to adapt.

"Is that everything?"

"Uh-huh."

"Are you sure?"

"Um... okay, maybe I've got something in my back pocket."

The Sheriff would routinely head into the mountain and retrieve items his citizens didn't even know were missing. Once a month he'd place everything on display and the townsfolk would gasp at the amount of materials the cute little miscreants had managed to swindle away.

"My plow? How could they steal my plow?"

The reason the townsfolk could tolerate the Midglings' criminality was due to what they did with the stolen goods; nothing. Midglings didn't take for personal gain, they took for curiosity's sake. Once obtained the item no longer held their curiosity so they dumped everything in a pile and went about looking for other things to satisfy their needs. Essentially they were a storage facility. A facility where stolen belongings could be found without any need for an investigation because the creatures doing the theft had no idea it was wrong and thus never hid the goods.

"Okay, you two, I'm going to take these things from you because I believe they actually belong to Mrs. Butterfield."

They looked at him with stunned eyes.

"Those are Mrs. Butterfields?"

"Yes, I believe these spectacles are hers. Thank you for finding them and I'll make sure she knows it was you who did it."

The Sheriff had given up explaining the concept of thievery to the Midglings because they really were incapable of understanding the idea. Therefore, he thanked them for their help in returning lost items and watched as they beamed with civic pride. The fact they were the cause of the lost items was never fully understood by their kind because, when it came to shiny baubles, they had the attention span of gnats. They would see something which caught their eye, place it in one of their pockets and completely forget they'd took the thing. There were times when everyone in attendance, the Midglings included, would wait with rapt wonder at what the contents of their pockets revealed.

"Okay, you two, you are free to go."

He watched as the two he knew so well, the two who were quite possibly the most prolific burglars in a species bred with thievery in their blood, turned their pockets outside in, squared their shoulders, sucked in their bellies and bowed in his presence.

"Please stop doing that."

He knew they wouldn't. Midglings were so courteous they couldn't contain the gesture. Anyone who showed them the slightness sign of kindness would immediately get inundated with bows of gratitude.

"Mr. Prince?"

"Yes, Stu?"

"We found something you might want to see."

He listened as they explained what they'd encountered in the cave.

"There's a woman frozen in ice?"

"Uh-huh."

"Yep, a real pretty one too."

He knew Midglings were incapable of lying so gathered his traveling gear and set off with the two leading the way. They entered the mountain, moved ever deeper inside, felt the chill settle into their bones and finally came across the beauty. He could've sworn she was sleeping. He wasn't an expert on death but felt pretty confident the woman was alive. He took out a torch and lit the flame. He held it near the ice and watched as it began to melt. Both Stu and Wort sat by, waiting to see if the woman would rise after the block melted. She didn't.

"Oh no! She's not breathing!"

They again sat by as the Sheriff did something they found a little odd.

"Is he kissing her?"

"It does seem a bit early for smooching."

They watched as their friend, the nice law enforcement officer, kept doing the strangest form of kissing they'd ever seen.

"Since when do Humans blow air into the other Humans' mouths?"

"I don't know? Maybe it's a new dating ritual."

He was, of course, reviving the woman and just when it appeared all was lost, all his blowing for naught, she suddenly gasped and took in great quantities of air.

"Yay!"

"Good job, Mr. Prince!"

She sat up with a bewildered look in her eye.

"Where am I?"

They explained she was in a cave and had been encased in a block of ice.

"I cannot believe she did this!"

They listened as she explained the situation. She been born with great beauty and entered into pageants from as far back as she could remember. She never lost. Another became jealous.

"And you think she put a sleeping spell on you?"

"I know she did! Oh, I am so mad I could rip her head off!"

As she became more animated a question was pondered.

"But why would she put you down here?"

Her answer sent a shockwave through the Midglings.

"Probably because this is where those lecherous Dwarven reside."

It turned out beauty pageants held the interests of the midget men under the mountain. Dwarven were the hard-working, metal-smelting iron workers who made a healthy living plying their wares to the warring races aboveground. They were larger than Midglings, outweighed them by quite a lot, wore beards, carried weapons and held the unfortunate title of least desirable Human-like species on the planet. They were short and squatty without the benefit of cuteness. They were gruff of exterior, dirty from forging and rather unpleasant to the nostrils. Sadly, for the pageant contestants, they were also ignorant of their own looks. They arrived at every contest and continually made inappropriate advances on all the ladies involved.

"Dwarven?" Wort asked worriedly.

"Yes! And I'll bet you a million gold pieces I know the exact seven who are responsible!"

She went on to explain the truth about beauty pageants; they were ripe for rigging.

"All you need to do is bribe two of the judges. It's a subjective contest so no one can appeal their decisions."

The wealth of the Dwarven was the problem. They were masters of the business community and hoarded their profits like the misers they were. They were known to be tightwads and shrewd negotiators. Their only shortcoming? Beauty.

"But why would they help her?"

"Because they'd get the best of both worlds. She'd rain praise on them and say things like 'You're so handsome' or 'I love the way your beard glistens in the moonlight' while at the same time they could come down here and ogle me while I was unaware. I really can't believe she would stoop so low. I mean, where's the competitiveness, where's the idea of fair play, where's the...?"

As the beauty was imploring Sheriff Prince with unanswerable pageantry questions both Midglings were somewhat otherwise occupied.

"Stu?"

"Yes, Wort, I heard her."

"Well, what do we do about it?"

"I'm thinking we don't say a word and maybe nobody will find out."

The problem they were having was the unique relationship which had developed between the beings who shared space inside and under the mountain. There were three who called it home; the Midglings, Dwarven and Elvin. All resided at differing levels and kept their distance from the others. They did it for different reasons but the results were the same; each species reigned supreme where they reigned the most. The Elvin held the upper levels, the Midglings the middle and the Dwarven the lowest most. It was the relationships between Elvin and Dwarven which caused the separation. The Elvin were the most dangerous, followed by the Dwarven and finally the Midglings. The Midglings existed for one reason; they were the buffer. The Elvin and Dwarven were both war-like races who would battle each other upon sight. The Midglings disallowed the sight because they were numerous, virtually impossible to see in the underground caverns and held a viewpoint which became troublesome if one were attempting to invade another's area; they were insatiably curious.

"Hi there, Dwarven, where you going with that battle axe?"

"Hey, Elvin, what's up with the dagger? Going frog hunting?"

Whenever the Dwarven or Elven arranged a raiding party they would meet resistance from a group of Midglings who had no idea what a raiding party was. They would pepper questions with such velocity and abundance the party would turn around knowing their element of surprise had been breached by beings unable to ponder surprise since the had not the imagination to do so.

"I think we're in trouble here, Stu."

"I know, Wort, but what can we do about it?"

The trouble was location. They were in an area of the caverns where Midgling and Dwarven interests mixed. The general rule of thumb was don't interfere in the other's business. If the Midglings had a pile of loot they inadvertently acquired from the top-dwellers the Dwarven would leave it alone because they looked upon thievery as beneath their kind. They were the producers of things which were valued, not pilferers of them. If they wanted a particular piece of jewelry they would make it. The Midglings left the Dwarven things alone for a different reason. It was already in their sight. They didn't take things for the sake of doing so, they took them because they were curious what they were.

"Do you think she'd agree to get frozen again?"

Stu looked and quickly surmised the obvious.

"She doesn't really give off the submission to freezing vibe."

So they left the cavern with some trepidation and hoped for the best.

"Stu? Wort?"

"Yes?"

"The Midgling Council would like a word."

They were brought forward to answer for their deeds.

"Did you unfreeze a Dwarven captive?"

"Um... no."

The Midgling Council was made of their brightest so were ready with a follow up.

"Were you present when the Dwarven captive was unfrozen."

"Um... describe present."

They were found guilty of rendering aid to top-side peoples when they freed the lowest-most people's acquisition. Since they had no comprehension of penalty they advised some vacation time.

"We believe you should visit the top-side until the Dwarven forget about the un-freezing thing."

Since they were curious creatures they readily agreed and set out to meet the world with Midgling wonderment. The first place they visited was Detindale where they again were greeted accordingly.

"Get them!"

Flop.

They awoke not in a cage but on the couch in the Sheriff's office. He was in polite conversation with the beauty who was previously frozen.

"Oh, good, they're awake."

The two sat up and were immediately thanked for what they'd done.

"Thank you for bringing Prince to my rescue."

"Thank you for bringing Beauty into my life."

They were happy for the two because they appeared to be in love. When they announced they were getting married they became even happier. The Midglings, though, were still made of curiosity so were unable to stop one line of questioning.

"Um, Ms. Beauty?"

"Yes, Stu?"

"Well, I'm just a little curious. You see, I can understand why Mr. Prince is infatuated with you. You know, because of your prettiness and all but why are you marrying him?"

She looked at him with gorgeous eyes and responded kindly.

"Because he's got one trait I find most appealing."

Stu was still curious and since she didn't really answer his question he questioned again.

"What trait?"

"He's charming."

He looked over at the Sheriff and was having a hard time putting the pieces to the puzzle together.

"Mr. Prince? Charming?"

She again smiled at him and he could definitely see why she was undefeated in beauty pageant contests. She then explained her reasoning.

"Yes, you see, when we beauty queen contestants have been at it a while we tend to build up a tough exterior. It's probably because people are judging us not on things we accomplished but merely on beauty which we had nothing to do with. So anyway, after time we all become somewhat aloof toward others, so much so we are usually viewed through a tinted lens and called names behind our back. In my case I was called the Ice Queen."

"That's not very nice."

"No, it's not, and it hurt my feelings when I first heard it but after a while I actually began to resemble what they were calling me. I would yell at others and order stupid things I had no right to demand and so on. Well, to make a long story somewhat less long I realized Prince was able to do physically what no other had been able to do metaphorically."

"Huh?"

"It means... okay, I don't actually know what it means but I heard it somewhere and I think it sounds good in that sentence structure. Anyway, to finally end my point, the reason I fell for Prince was because he melted my frozen exterior."

Stu accepted her explanation, he and Wort wished them all the best, they went to explore the outside world, were imprisoned by a witch with the desire for a house made of sugary products, rescued by Mother Nature, put to work performing domestic service, enlisted to save Castle Nirvana, broached a truce between a Care-Bear, Piglets and Elfins when they learned they had magic amulets which allowed them to speak with the animals, were delivered through the treetops where Wort lost his amulet, accosted by Trolls on camels, saved by mercenaries on foot and finally sat around an oases reciting everything for their heroes.

"... and that's why I know the way to the Lazy River."

Wort rejoined them after discovering there was nothing to discover in a place made of sand.

"Sergeant."

"Yes, Deadaim?"

"I suggest we begin moving. The Elvin will still be following us."

So they packed up their gear, Stu listened to camels grunt and they headed out to find the Lazy River on their journey to save Mother Nature's realm from the forces of evil.
Chapter 27: What's In A Name

The Pursuit (Lawlessness)

They did not travel by foot for long. They knew their adversaries destination so detoured to acquire what would speed their journey. They came across a promising town. It was vibrant, busy and filled with others. What brought the others is what held their interest. They waited until nightfall before entering. Darkness was their element. They would use its cloak to further their gains.

The town was not one they would've picked if a choice were given. It contained an element they found most displeasing; criminality.

"Stay hidden. Do not reveal oneself. Locate what we desire and return."

The one without a name nodded her head in reply. She left and her sight was lost before ten steps were taken. She was a rarity in the Elvin world; an assassin of female form. Some had taken her presence lightly, some felt she was unworthy of their mantle, some turned to none as she removed their viewpoints from consideration.

The town was built to suit horseback needs. It contained a main thoroughfare made of dirt and was lined on both sides with business. Saloons, taverns and places of ill-repute were the mainstay and their presence was everywhere. Side by side they stood testament to man's desire for change; a change of sobriety, a change of companionship, the change of coin. All were available and business boomed.

She crept to the edge of town and waited. She always scouted ahead, never entered blind and always prepared an exit. It was sometimes time-consuming but important and became second nature. It was necessary. She wouldn't have survived without it.

She'd been purchased at an age she didn't know, so young she held no memory of anything before forced servitude. She grew into a child with the knowledge she was less than all, below even domesticated beasts, a slave without power; an Elvin without clan.

She saw the path, climbed the exterior and reached the roof. She waited. No alarm was sounded so she lowered her silhouette and glided over the establishment. She could hear the voices inside. Loud, raucous, vulgar.

"Bring me wine!"

"Bring me ale!"

"Bring me a wench!"

They were thugs, ruffians, outlaws. Undisciplined and untamed. She was anything but.

"Fetch my robe!"

"Yes, Master."

"Clean the floor!"

"Yes, Master."

"You have displeased me. Turn around!"

Lash!

She was beaten every day because his anger was all consuming. He was alone, a male without mate, an Elvin without family, a lord over none save his servants. They paid dearly for his solitude and learned the ways of pain. He bought only females, the ones who'd rejected him, the ones who'd chosen him naught.

"What is this?"

"Soup, Master."

"It's slop! Turn around!"

Lash!

The pain she learned to tolerate, the beatings became mundane, everyday rituals without meaning, without mercy, without temperance. She became another in those times, a creature both of the world and outside its grip. Her mind broke. Her will subsided. Then one day everything changed.

"Move your belongings to the other side of the room. Another slave will reside with you."

The child was led in, tears flowing freely. The other was only four but knew her life had changed. He whipped her the first day to prove her thoughts correct. They became roommates in name only for she had learned to trust only in herself, the other had not.

"He is a cruel master" the other whimpered.

She replied not for what was there to say? The answer was ever present and always painful.

She scanned the street for signs of life, some were entering, some leaving, none were sufficient for their needs. She moved further and reached the edge. The chasm between the structures was ten feet wide and twenty feet deep. She scaled to the ground because she was not to be seen. She could've made the distance but would need a running start. It was too risky. Some might see movement and she would be forced to kill. It was best if stealth replaced speed for the moment. They had the time. Their prey's destination known.

They grew to know each other as only slaves could. Fearful of reprisals for deeds either undone or done erringly. They were forbidden names for they were below their need, below their purpose, unnecessary to those who held no rights.

"Is the bedchamber clean?"

"I am on the way to clean it now, Master."

"It should have been done already! Turn around!"

Lash!

She reached the top and again scanned her surroundings. She was above a saloon, the sounds of inebriation clear in the nighttime air. She watched as one arrived. He was met by another, a boy with pail. She watched as money changed hands and the horse led away. She kept the boy in view for he was the key. When he turned and led the animal away she moved for a better view. The boy entered a stable and she waited for him to leave.

"What is your name?"

She didn't answer for the first year. She couldn't allow herself to trust another. The other might be a spy sent to find those who retained individuality.

"What is your name?"

The other was insistent, intent and completely terrified. If she were acting then it was a performance of amazing magnitude. She relented when she could no longer believe the other was anything but a slave.

"I have no name. I was taken too young to remember" she whispered and the other shed a tear on her behalf. They were the best of friends from that moment on.

The boy left the stable and she moved with purpose. She would not have much time, she needed it not. One quick view was all it took as she again scaled the walls to return and report her findings.

The days were torture, filled with malicious design by one who despised those representative of the ones who spurned him. He was arrogant and rude, brutal and vicious, a tormentor for the pleasure of witnessing pain. The nights were theirs for he drank to oblivion, railing against the world, outraged with indignation. They would speak of better places, better lives, different worlds. They were dreamers themselves because they knew the truth; Elvin slaves were never set free unless purchased by another. He would never accept an exchange for they were not slaves in his mind; they were payments for slights perceived. They knew death would come in his service, only unsure of the date. It came for the other first, it shouldn't have. The other was innocent. She was anything but.

She glided through the night, aware of everything, nothing aware of her. They were waiting in the dark when she arrived. She signaled and they prepared accordingly. They were ever ready, ever vigilant, always on guard. She'd been once. It was lost for a while when the other entered her consciousness.

"My name is Aurora. I was taken when my clan was defeated."

The name was all it took. An insignificant detail which should've done nothing to change her perceptions. She was wrong. It changed everything.

They moved as one, following as she retraced her steps, unseen in the blackness of the starlit sky. She halted and pointed, they acknowledged and slipped over the edge to take what they desired. She was with them, a part of them, a member of the Guild which held the power of death. She'd held it before. She'd wielded it before. She'd wept with grief and vowed to undo the wrong.

"Shine the silverware!"

"Yes, Master."

The idea had come suddenly, inspiration from above. They could not be bought by another for he wouldn't sell. They would need another way. She realized it as she saw her reflection in the spoon. If he would not allow another's coin to gain their freedom, she would use his own and earn it for them. He was wealthy, amazingly so, he was also a drunk. She began with little things, nothing large but everything of value.

"Shine the candlesticks!'

"Yes, Master."

He was always wary in the morning, less so in the afternoon, completely unconscious in the evening. His belief was such he couldn't conceive they would take from him, couldn't comprehend they held their own thoughts. He was proven wrong. It cost the other her life.

She opened the door and found the other standing there, holding the silver knives and candlesticks, trembling with fear. She should've guessed but was taken aback by the other's reaction. She thought the other knew. She thought to reassure her. She spoke.

"Aurora, put those away before he finds..."

She realized her mistake. She hadn't seen him because the door opened inward. He stood behind.

"You would dare take a name!"

The fear she felt was paralyzing. She watched with horror as the innocent paid for the guilty, as good felt the wraith of bad, as wrong visited right. He strangled the other where she stood. It was her fault. She'd been complicit in the other's death by uttering her name. She'd killed the one person who'd shown compassion. She shed her last tear as Aurora's life faded from view.

They sped away with the horses, seven who were invisible, seven who were deadly, seven who knew where those who spilled assassin blood were going. She rode with a memory, a vision, a need. She no longer doubted her purpose, her meaning. The Guild was her family, her home, her life. They took her in because they saw the potential, the lack of fear, the embrace of Death.

"Clean up this trash!"

She looked on with detachment, unaware an impulse was severed, an emotion lost, a survival instinct rerouted, redesigned, redefined.

"I said clean up this trash, slave!"

The image was abstract, blurry, grotesque. The other's face a mask of pain, of fright, of realization. The memory would never change for the other was posed indefinitely. Death took a picture, a lasting impression which would forever prevail.

"You dare ignore me!"

He moved with the assuredness of one who ruled, one without question, one in control. He saw what he wished; a girl, a servant, a slave. He raised the whip to begin the process anew, to show her she was worthless, meaningless, defenseless. She was anything but.

They learned of her existence from a guard they employed. One went in search and found her locked in a cell as reported. She was near death, bloody, unconscious. They paid the price for her freedom with gold and threats. If any were to challenge they would meet the Guild. She was malnourished and dirty, a mangled mess of face. The other life she took was worse by far.

"I will teach you to obey!"

He lifted his arm, she reacted in kind. The lash struck out but she was past its purpose, beyond its use, below its barbs. She attacked without warning, brutal and quick. He was larger by far but slower in speed. She split him open and watched his torment, his agony, his pain.

The patrol found her in the room, laying prone, unmoving. They were experts in the field and surmised what transpired. She held the markings of the whip but none from the encounter. He never struck his mark, she struck hers every time. The scene was reconstructed, analyzed, deduced. She'd cut him up slowly, he was alive the whole time. She then performed the deed, a gruesome process filled with pain. She removed her own tongue. Payment for speaking a name.

The moon was full, the sky brilliantly black. They were revenge in motion, filled with outrage over the loss of another. The Guild was death, torture and misery. It was meant for others, not for them. They were the instruments of her design, the outcome of her plan. When one of theirs was taken the reaction could only be one and the punishment outweigh the crime.
Chapter 28: Making of a Mongrel

The Siege (Castle Nirvana)

The woods were dark and foreboding. He moved as one with nature, sure of his progress, unseen by devilish eyes. He was tasked with a mission of great importance. He did not take it lightly.

"Longshot, I need you to locate where they're contaminating the water."

"Yes, sir."

"Do not call me, sir, we are all equal in Mother's eyes."

"Yes, Hawkeye."

He left without warning for there was no one to tell. He'd been alone for a while, he reveled in the experience for it was not always so. He wished to remember it naught. He'd been a tribal leader in his lands. He held a place of importance, had a wife and was expecting a child. It ended in a flash, the glint of light off steel. They'd been ignorant of its creation. When discovery occurred it was not through trial and error but bloodshed. They invaded, his tribe fought back and lost. He was taken captive, forced into bondage and toiled under a brutal regime.

"You are now enlisted in the Emperor's army."

"What of my wife and family?"

"You have no family. Work or die."

He was ever chained, always manacled, never without a guard.

"Pull, cur!"

They were beasts of burden, the ones with brawn, the ones who survived. The toll taken was remarkably high. Campaigns were fought and wars waged by others, those in the front, those whom they toiled to provide.

"Push, dog!"

The backbreaking labor was death for some, injury to others and for a few, those with the ability to adapt, an evolution into something else, something different; a breed of warrior known by insults given.

"Faster, mongrel!"

They became physically different, able to survive long periods without water, without food, without rest. Those who refused to die were present when the moment occurred, a battle lost, a rout begun.

"Retreat!"

"Out of my way, Mongrel!"

Their captors met an equal foe, were far from their homes and succumbed. The opposing side was not as the others, did not believe in captives, did not take prisoners. They fled into the desert after many were put to the knife. The terrain was vast, hot and devoid of life. It was thought they perished. The thought was wrong. They lived for a reason, forged from brutality, waiting for their moment to strike.

"Mongrels!"

The meaning had changed. Where before a slur was issued what arose was a warning, an alarm; death had arrived.

They were few in the beginning but relentless in pursuit of others, those still in chains, those who endured. He was chosen as leader, refused the offer, chosen again. Three times it took, three different tallies, one response. He accepted with resignation, knowing the consequence, praying not all were lost.

"Earthquake?"

"Sandstorm?"

Neither.

"Mongrels!"

They attacked with speed none could match. They mastered the physical, overcame the mental and practiced the impossible. They rode with fury, hatred, loathing, disgust, anger, contempt. They were unstoppable, unconscionable, amoral.

"I surrender!"

"Everyone surrenders. It is WHAT you surrender which counts!"

The slaves they freed, the captors they killed. None could be left to their situation in life. He led for a reason, a purpose, a promise; those who owned others would own nothing. He vowed to end the practice, the charade, the illusion. To those who believed themselves superior he allowed them to prove so.

"Have mercy!"

"Mercy is for the gods. Ask them yourself."

He held her memory dear, it sustained him during the troubles, gave him strength to carry on. His only wish, his overwhelming desire, to lie in her arms again. He knew not if she survived, saw her for the last time so many years past he could not recall.

"Please, spare me! I have a wife."

"At least you die knowing you do."

Their struggle lasted for two long and brutal years. They became a force, an army, a legend. They kept at their ways, always testing, ever probing their limits. They were one with the environ; harsh, brutal, unforgiving.

"What will you do with us?"

"What you should have done with us."

As usual the time came not in a sudden burst but with prolonged exposure. They became the larger, the stronger, the dominant. He said his farewells with solemn regret.

"Where will you go?"

"Home, to find my wife."

"And if she is dead?"

"Home, to bury my past."

He took a scimitar, bow and arrows. He employed all on the journey. Men in groups were always on the lookout for those alone. He encountered many, dispatched most and let some who survived spread the tale.

"Where are the others?"

"Dead."

"Why are you alive?"

"To issue the truth; face the Mongrel and die."

His travel was long, his captors had greatly enlarged their empire, he saw the reason for its decline.

"Where are the taxes?"

"The villagers refuse to pay."

"Then kill them."

"We cannot. They are many, we are few."

He came to the shoreline and longed to see the other side. His home. His wife. Possibly, his child. He was avoided by all, his appearance intimidating, stern, stoic. He sought out another, one with the service he desired.

"I require passage."

"Two pieces of gold."

He paid and stood on the deck as the ship set sail, facing the wind, impervious to the chill, ever searching for his home.

"There is food down below."

"I will remain as I am."

The voyage was slow, hampered by weather, rocked by waves, soaked in rain.

"There are bunks down below."

"I will remain as I am."

They arrived two nights later, he disembarked and rode with hope filling his heart. He arrived a day later to find his village rebuilding, reclaiming their own. He saw one he knew, one he recalled, one who would know the truth.

"Is she alive?"

He knew the answer before she spoke, a look in her eyes the telling clue.

"I am sorry."

He wished to hear the truth, a need to know, ready to exact revenge.

"How did she die?"

The truth was pain, beyond ability to measure.

"She lived but your child did not. She waited while the others fled, refusing to leave, always promising you would return. She began re-building, became a leader and found those who left. She watched as they came back, ever praying you would be with them, always believing you survived. She caught the fever three weeks ago."

He'd been beaten, whipped, bloodied, ravaged, bruised and enslaved. All insignificant compared to three words.

"She died yesterday."

He fell to his knees, vomited, paid his respects and left. He had no home, no village, no purpose. He'd done the deed and buried his love, his hope, his past. He became what they predicted, what they proclaimed, what they feared. He held no sympathy, no kindness, no remorse. He was the cur, the dog, the Mongrel. All who challenged wound up dead. He was the end of life in Human form, unforgiving, unredemptive. She found him as she found the others, shattered souls leading the way.

"Will you come with me?"

"Can you give back my life?"

"No, I am sorry, my powers are not that strong."

"Then why would I go?"

"Because I offer what you need."

"What is that?"

"A home."

He left with her and found a reason, a meaning, a hope. It could not replace the past for he had buried it deep, covered it whole, refused to unearth the misery. His sadness remained but tempered, awash in the love of her spirit. He was moving through the forest with one quest in sight, one wish to grant, one payment to be made.

She'd chanced upon one who had given up on life, lost all hope, ready to take Death's challenge. He had overcome the odds, began to see a way, a possibility, a chance. She had believed when even he did not. He would give his life for her, willingly, without pause, without thought. He owed her that. She had taken a leap of fate for his very essence, his future, his meaning. He was thankful for her gift and aware of the odds because he knew what he was; a longshot indeed.

The beasts were always around, ever present but unaware of his movement. He held an advantage, a trait, a burden. To those in Blight's camp he was invisible, unseen, a ghost. They could not identify him for he was indistinguishable from their own, vengeance made of flesh, haltered only for one reason, one purpose, one desire. She had given him the gift of a second beginning, a new life, a proper meaning. To those who would challenge her he held only thought, one instinct, one promise; harm Mother Nature and watch the Mongrel rising again.
Chapter 29: Cutthroat Poker

The Siege (Blight's Encampment)

Cutter moved through the ranks secure in the knowledge beasts would fall aside and allow passage because command held privileges. No creature, no matter how large, would dare interfere with the chosen commander of Prince Blight, son of King Rot, ruler of a realm so large it had no understandable boundaries. The Troll he walked with was, unfortunately, a needed precaution.

"Halt!" the Orc grunted.

They were near their destination, to the rear of the encampment, far away from the eyes of those on the castle's walls. It was necessary for two reasons.

"Move aside. This is the new Commander" Toodrake hissed.

The Orc, after his brain took time to recall the thought of one commander and replace it with another, did as he was told.

They moved within the perimeter and were struck by the movement of activity. Everywhere they looked Orcs were in the process of moving terrain. It was the first reason Cutter chose the location; if the defenders guessed what they were attempting they would surely try and put an end to it. Removing their ability to see the process was, therefore, imperative. The second reason rang out as a series of orders were issued.

"We're ready" one said.

A Troll nodded his head and spoke to an Orc. It grunted acknowledgment and raced away, toward the front lines. A minute later an enormous outburst of Ogre howls could be heard. It was an ear-shattering cacophony of beastly delight. It was also a ruse.

"The charge is set."

Those with some semblance of thought placed hands or claws on heads to muffle the sound.

"Fire in the hole!"

The explosion was everything he'd heard and nothing he expected. There was a strange moment in time when the overriding hum of activity halted, everyone waited, and then a culmination of sight and sound which happened so abruptly their senses were assaulted. One moment nothing, no movement or sound. The next, something else entirely.

Kaboom!

Dust and smoke filled the air, Orcs grunted in approval as debris rained down from above. Cutter had been worried the defenders would hear their activity but was told it wasn't so. With the din of Ogre howling the blast remained impossible to identify. Things were finally moving along as he intended. It was about time. It had taken longer than anticipated.

He'd been born into poverty, his mother a maid, his father a tradesman. His life was a struggle from the start.

"I have bad news."

He was born to kill.

"Your wife did not make it."

She died giving him life. His father took it hard. He was an unforgiving man, believed in inherent evil and looked upon his son with suspicion.

"Cutter!"

"Yes, Father?"

"Somebody stole jewelry from the neighbors. Do you know anything about it?"

The suspicion was warranted.

"What if we get caught?"

"We won't."

"But what if someone comes home while we're there?"

"Then they die."

He led a group of youngsters, none more than twelve when they began plotting serious crimes. He was the leader because he saw the larger picture, the one he viewed with open jealousy, the belief those who had wealth took it from those who didn't.

"That's the one."

"Who? The passed-out drunk?"

"Yes. Take everything, his clothes included. If he resists slit his throat."

They began to get a reputation which led the authorities in their direction. The sheriff arrived one day as he was returning from town. He snuck near the cabin to hear his father's response. It was, at best, unsurprising.

"Could he be responsible?" the sheriff asked.

"Cutter? Oh, yeah, he would definitely stab a person in the back to steal their shirt."

He left for a while, slept in run-down shacks and lived off stolen goods. He returned to find his father asleep. He left him sleeping forever. The money, what little there was, he took and began to plot ways of growing it richer. He found his calling when he saw another perform inadequately.

"I call. What do you have?"

"Four aces."

The man made a mistake, forgot the first rule of cheating; never let them see all your cards.

"Hold on. I had an ace."

The third man at the table was the problem. He'd folded earlier holding an ace high. The cheater would've won with three aces, merely placing them down face-side up while holding the other cards to his chest. He didn't. He got arrogant. Wanted to prove himself the best poker player in the land. It wound up becoming a dead man's hand. Cutter watched and learned; never let them see what's up your sleeve.

"Hello, Maribel. Who is this young man?"

He'd met her at the store. She was young, innocent and derelict of looks. She was also the daughter of a local rancher who made a living selling livestock. He was cordial to his guests, polite in conversation and absent his life's savings as Cutter forced the man into his bedroom. He then learned the code to unlock the safe with the dagger he'd taped under his shirt.

He was quickly regarded as the suspect and a search party sent out. They never found him because he was also on the back of the stallion he took from the dead rancher's stall. He left to pursue his dreams of high-society living and found a willing town ready to accept a stranger's tale of heir to a baron's fortune.

"Hello, Lord Destiny, welcome to the Pavilion."

He'd chosen the name for its ring of truth; he was destined to succeed after all.

"Thank you, Bernard. Where's the best action tonight?"

He'd made a name for himself, literally made it up out of thin air when he put down roots in the swankiest hotel in town. He had a lot of money and nothing to do. He began frequenting saloons looking for the information he required. He found it at the Barstow.

"These limits are very low. Where are the high-stakes games played?"

The information was obtained because the man sitting across from him had won a generous amount of money from the bad poker-playing heir to a baron. The man felt he would get in kindly with his employer if he could persuade the socialite to frequent the place where money was without limit. Cutter, for his part, played the fool and lost on purpose. It wasn't a large amount, at least not to one of his ill-begotten means, but it was sufficient enough to earn him the desired reputation of a wealthy inheritor who placed erroneous bets.

"The three men at table number two are the ones you want."

He'd enlisted Bernard after visiting the Pavilion. It wasn't hard. He lost a little heavier than before. It was necessary. He wished to be invited back and losing money was a sure way to do it. He followed the man home after the first night and made his bargain.

"Help me and you'll get rich."

Bernard, recognizing something different in the young man's eyes, was a little hesitant at first.

"And if I don't?"

But he came around rather quickly.

"Then you'll get dead."

The game was, as usual, poker. Fifty-two cards, four suites, thirteen cards in each. The numbers were always the key. Know what was in your hand and deduce the possibilities. Cutter decided to alter the odds.

"I bid twenty."

The idea was actually quite simple. If one knew the possibilities according to the cards one held, what were the possible outcomes if one knew the cards in the other players' hands?

"I raise ten."

Bernard was hired help. He seated the guests, helped the waiters with their dishes and did one particular service which Cutter took notice of the very first night; he cleared finished drinks from the tables. He was always circling the room with tray in hand removing empty glassware. It was that act which allowed the other to follow.

"I see your ten and raise ten more."

They tray was round, held by one hand so the other could fill it. And it was portable. Portable meant able to be lifted. Able to be lifted meant able to be turned. Able to be turned meant the one glass, the very special container altered with a metallic coating, could be placed in view of Cutter's eyes as Bernard walked behind the men he was playing against.

"I see your raise and raise twenty more."

The metallic coating made one side of the glass into a mirror.

"Everyone's in. Let's see the cards."

He didn't win every time. He didn't want to. He wanted to stay in the game long enough till the one hand, the one where everyone felt they held the winning cards, was dealt. It came, as usual, in the dead of night.

"I bid fifty."

"I raise fifty."

"I see you fifty and raise another fifty."

"I see your raise and raise a hundred."

The con was perfect for there was no proof of cheating. Nobody noticed the special glass for two reasons. First, Bernard was a servant so he tended to blend into the surroundings. Second, whenever he was not behind the gentlemen facing Cutter he would turn the tray so the mirrored glass faced his torso. The only one able to see the reflection was the one carrying the tray.

At first Bernard was a little reluctant. He went so far as to take only ten percent of the winnings. As the games went on, though, he saw things a little differently.

"I want half."

"Half?"

"Yes, without me you have no con."

Cutter agreed for two reasons. The first, he saw the end game; the point where people quit playing with a person even if they couldn't catch him cheating. The second was more personal.

"How much did we win?"

"I won five-hundred, you won a shiny piece of steel."

Cutter decided he didn't need a partner so cut his labor force with a knife and left town a lot wealthier than he entered. He would've gotten away if not for one small detail.

"Oh, dear Lord, Bernard is dead!"

Bernard had hired a maid to clean his house. He did it after realizing ten percent of illegal gambling profits was actually quite substantial.

"Round up the posse."

So instead of having a head start to put distance between himself and the gamblers, gamblers who would question the coincidence of both he and Bernard disappearing at the same time, he found himself in a deadly race against a group of armed authorities intent on relieving him of his ill-gained booty. He got away but it cost him.

"I need your boat!"

The man looked him in the eye, looked at the bulging sacks tied to his saddle, looked past him to the distant but approaching riders, pulled out his sword and did some quick riverside gambling.

"You can have it for what's in those saddlebags."

As he floated to safety Cutter watched with seething fury and also some admiration as the man sheathed his sword, picked up the bags, threw them behind a pile of brush, unsheathed his sword, lifted it high, and delivered a strong blow with the handle to the top of his head.

"Why that dirty, low-down...!"

Cutter could see the future; the one where the posse came riding up to find an assaulted man who would later tell them he became that way when a hooligan on a horse hit him over the head and stole his boat.

Cutter vowed to someday return and pay the man back for stealing his stolen goods but first he had to find a quiet little town where he could lie low and recoup some of his lost wages. He found such a place after traveling north, beaching the boat and then backtracking. He wound up in the city surrounding Castle Nirvana, started an illegal orphanage for wayward youth, taught them the highly successful occupation of pickpocketing, watched as the local authority dismantled his organization, visited the offending officer's home, left with a jade locket, lost it in a poker game and decided to try something different for a change. The job had become available because King Rot had decided his son, Prince Blight, had performed the task admirably and was destined for greater things.

"You will ride through the towns collecting taxes. Any who cannot pay are to be killed. Any who can pay only little are to be maimed. You are the collectors for Prince Blight. Do your job well and he will reward you handsomely. Do not and he will reward you with misery."

The Troll in front of him smelled horrendous and looked hideous.

"Any questions?"

"Just one."

The Troll, obviously not a fan of answering, glared at the young cutthroat.

"What?" he hissed.

"What do I call you?"

The answer, obviously, was Toodrake; the Troll standing beside him watching as explosives were set off allowing tunneling to continue. The explosives were the hard part, their ingredients guarded by a race quite hard to fathom. He'd decided not to try. He'd decided on a different philosophy; if you couldn't beat them, send in someone who could.
Chapter 30: Death and Torment

The Siege (Breathtaking Forest)

Blade's band moved in with a speed they couldn't resist. The grapevine was shivering as the Elfin, once again, found themselves in the presence of their most feared foe; the ones who both knew them best and understood them least.

"What do you want?"

They held the Elfin leader, the one named Tweedlewink and were exploring their options.

"We want explosives."

They could see the defiance in the Elfin's eyes, saw determination begin to set in and decided to cut it off at the source. They brought in three. They were shivering and scared. It was a good way to begin negotiations.

"We do not require all the explosives, a few will be sufficient. Obey and your kind will remain unharmed. Disobey and they will not."

With that statement the three were hobbled with scimitar slashes.

"There are many more we already hold, agree to the terms or accept the consequences."

Tweedlewink looked on with horror as three of his kind lay on the ground, writhing in pain, unable to arise forever without use of their severed hamstrings. His was a gentle race, a bit curious, maybe somewhat intrusive but not made for aggressive defense. They sought mediators, those they could side with in order to live prosperous. Unfortunately for them they were on the border of Nature's realm, abutted Lawlessness, which diminished their alliances by half.

"What will you use them for?"

The Elvin inwardly smiled. He knew the answer was somewhat on shaky grounds but found it amusing since the intended use was to shake the grounds.

"Do not worry. We will not violate the treaty. The explosives will not be used for warfare."

The treaty had been constructed for a reason. The Elfin and the Elvin had been its catalyst. The War of Separation the cause. As the two halves chose sides the fighting became intense. In the beginning the Elfin were hopelessly outmatched. At the time they were not so different, Nature was still undecided if they would remain of the same race or go their separate ways. One thing which was decided, though, was the Elvin were prepared for battle while the Elfin for hoping for peace. When they met the Elfin paid a horrendous cost. They were more numerous but in a difficult state. It was then they forged alliances with the Human kingdoms and Elfelvin society split apart.

"Where have they run?"

"Into the caves."

"Bring me the Elfin leader."

"At once, My King."

The Elfin had been in the agricultural trade since the beginning. They were experts in every form of plant, fruit, vegetable, grain, weed and seed. Over time they'd come across a curious aspect during their cultivation process; when certain byproducts were mixed together and a spark sent forward the resulting explosion was a blast to behold.

"You called, King Fault?"

"Yes, I shall need some of your powder again."

The King sent in his soldiers to bring down the Elvin caverns but another aspect of demolition arose when they were unsuccessful in their attempts.

"The powder doesn't work."

"You must place it in areas of weakness. Otherwise the blast will only make marks on the walls."

The King followed the Elfin's advice and had mapmakers design specifications for where the powder was to be located.

"Where?"

"Look at the lines."

"What lines?"

"King Fault's lines. Do you see those lines on the map?"

"Yes."

"Those are Fault's lines. He drew them so we would know the weakest places to put the powder."

So they did and the caves collapsed leaving the surviving Elvin in a precarious position.

"What do we do?"

"Kill the Elfin. They're the ones with the secret ingredient to make the powder, if we remove them we remove the threat."

So the war raged on as Elvin warriors slaughtered Elfin bomb-makers by the thousands. It, of course, led to Elfin reprisals and soon even Mother Nature took notice.

"What are you two doing?"

"We're at war."

"You're exterminating each other."

They couldn't deny the charge because they were inflicting unsustainable damages so she sat their leaders down and worked out a compromise.

"No explosives in warfare and, in return, no killing of Elfin."

They agreed because at the time they had no way to disagree. She held the upper hand because of who she was. If the Elvin reneged she would allow the Elfin to build their bombs, give them to the Humans who would do what they always did with exploding ordinances and cause as much mayhem and destruction as possible. If the Elfin broke the treaty she would eliminate the source of their power by removing the bomb-making ingredients from her list of treasures. The treaty did its purpose and the two races grew apart, infrequently encountering the other. It had never been broken but the Elvin did sparse the words. They didn't need to kill to get their point across.

"You have one minute to decide."

Tweedlewink knew his answer but waited till the final second to reply.

"How many do you need?"

Blade again smiled on the inside.

"I don't know? It is why you are coming with me."

"And if I don't?"

"Then I will break the pact, kill every Elfin in this forest and you will watch as they bleed ."

Tweedlewink took one look at the Elvin and knew he spoke the truth. He then acceded and Blade left with the Elfin in tow. Blade found it amusing because the true nature of the crime would be committed by one who would be repulsed by the deed. So egregious was the act they were attempting he decided not to mention it to anyone, even others of his kind. The Elfin would be an unwilling, unknowing, unenthusiastic accomplice in the demise of the one creature they placed above all; Mother Nature herself.

As he walked a hint of a smile crossed his face at the thought of what he was accomplishing; having his greatest enemy destroy the very reason they existed. Tweedlewink caught sight of the smile and his trepidation grew. He knew of no Elvin assassin who held the facial expression. He'd heard it was removed from their conscious. It was one of their signature traits; they were devoid of emotion. He thought maybe he'd heard wrong, maybe the stories weren't based on fact but on wild speculation passed along by others who felt it necessary to embolden their tales. He was wrong on both accounts. Elvin assassins were, indeed, void of emotion but Blade was not exactly an assassin. He was something else altogether, a subset of assassins known to only a few, those who recruited the others, the others known as Infidels.

The name had been chosen by their first leader, an assassin whose identity was never mentioned because none of their identities were mentioned. It was done for a reason; to keep them alive. The Infidels had arisen after the War of Separation. The period was rather boring because they'd grown accustomed to battle. Over time, though, societies moved along and the Elvin were no different. They developed the guild system and constructed avenues for those wishing to perform a particular trade. They could, thus, achieve their dream if they worked hard and showed promise. The Assassins Guild was one. So was the Merchants Guild, the Metalworkers Guild and any others which could be shown to have a particular skillset which was unique. The Assassins Guild therefore began as any other organization and at the top sat the leaders, those chosen to head their particularly dangerous profession, and it was there where the Guild's guiding principles were formed. It was also where the Infidels sprang to life.

"The Guild is called to order!"

There wasn't a need for the formality since there were only three but the one who spoke enjoyed the sound of his voice so the others allowed him the privilege.

"The first order of business is to set our priority principle."

The fact the three got right to the central issue was not surprising. They were experienced killers, after all, and didn't like to dabble around in nonsense.

"I believe we should follow Death's lead."

"I agree."

"I do not."

The first Infidel, one of the three who began the Guild, was not opposed to Death herself but to her indifference in how it came about. Death was not a particular type of lady, she did not care how someone died or even where they went after they perished. She only cared they did arrive so she could keep her coffins filled.

"We have been over this. If we choose sides we will be limiting our prospects."

"If we do not choose sides we will be limiting our possibilities."

The choice came down to quantity or quality. Death was an everywoman. She held no alliances, preferred no particular species and could care less of gender. She was an everybody person; whoever wished to enter she welcomed with open arms and either six-foot holes or urns of ash. She wasn't political, religious or even food-particular. It was why two of them wanted her as their guiding principal. With her along any ruler could hire them because all eventually knelt in her presence. The Infidel was of a slightly differing opinion. He felt they should side with a particular version of Death, the side which reveled in bloodlust, vengeance and torture. He wished to ally with one of Death's two persona's; Torment.

"If we choose Torment we will reap the darker-half's bounty. We will become a force to be reckoned with and will someday rule all."

"But if we choose Torment we could not be hired by those who side with Peace."

Peace was Death's other half. It was thought by most to prefer harmony but that was not exactly correct. Peace would accept harmony, sure, but it wasn't its overriding desire. Peace sought stability. It didn't care if it came about from a treaty or sword-point. Peace was interested in one thing and one thing alone; inaction. Torment was the opposite.

"If we choose to remain neutral then half the time we will be hired by those wishing to end bloodshed. They will forever be working against us to achieve their aims and we will be sidelined."

"If we choose Torment then half our potential customers will be off-limits for they cannot hire what they oppose."

The views were discussed until it became clear the participants could not be swayed. A vote was taken and neutrality won. Their guiding principle would be Death. The Infidel outwardly accepted defeat but inwardly chose another. The next act determined their name.

"Do you sweat fidelity to Death?"

"I do."

The oath taken was broken before the words uttered. It was necessary. Once fidelity was given to renege was to meet the one reneged upon. Torment was not a deity one wished to displease. The Infidel thus pledged inward fidelity to one then outwardly to another. The first held sway.

"We are now the Assassins Guild."

The Infidel smiled in secret for he was already contemplating the future. With a subset of assassins working secretly for Torment's sake, few would gain more benefits than if the entire Guild did the same. He couldn't say anything outwardly because to do so meant disloyalty which eventually led to Death but first made a stop at Torture. Torture was, of course, a relative of Torment and the Infidels would probably catch a break in its presence but nobody really wanted to test the sympathetic aspect of that particular demi-god. So the first Infidel made a plan. He would seek out those he deemed worthy of becoming a disciple of Torment and have them declare their allegiance before they pledged their oath to Death. Since Death was neutral and Torment a part of her make-up she didn't take offense because, once again, she didn't care how they visited only that they came and stayed for a very, very, very long time.

"How much further?" Tweedlewink asked.

The Elvin answered with silence.

Blade had been recruited even before he entered the Guild. He was a natural. His father had been an Infidel and so were previous generations of their lineage. They were so ingrained in the subset of assassins they could not comprehend another viewpoint. From the very beginning he was indoctrinated in the ways of his peoples.

"How shall you deal with ones who displease you?"

"I shall bring disease to ones they love."

The guiding principle of Infidels was misery brought about by action over a prolonged period of time. The longer the better.

"When do you eliminate the target?"

"After I have taken everything he values."

The principle was fairly straight-forward but malleable. It had to be. Assassination contracts were generally time-driven. But sometimes a particular brand of killing was asked for. The Guild generally turned down the cases because more profit could be made with the deaths of many as opposed to the time-consuming process of slowly killing the one. After the potential client had been rebuked they would be visited by another, one who would ask specific questions and demand both secrecy and an extraordinarily large amount of money. At that point, once the offer was made the client had no other option than to accept.

"Everything? You want everything I own to do the job?"

"Yes."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then you become the target."

From time to time rumors would spread of a small sect of assassins who were operating outside the guiding principles. Since it was considered a disloyal act the entire Guild would be on alert. When it happened nothing was uttered, no contracts fulfilled and no disciples sought. They were to disappear, become one with the Guild and bide their time. They were amazingly successful at doing so because tormenting others had imbued them with a sense of patience even Father Time would find impressive.

"Stop."

The command was uttered so softly Tweedlewink almost kept right on moving. He didn't because while soft the word also held such menace he froze in his tracks. He turned to face the Elvin of nightmares.

"Are we there?"

Again, nothing. Just silence. And then a man appeared out of the brush in front of them.

"Is this the one?" he asked.

"Yes" Blade responded.

The man nodded his head and turned to lead their way into the encampment surrounding Mother Nature's castle. Tweedlewink didn't know who the man was but received the impression the gentleman was someone to be avoided, someone to fear, someone to mistrust. As they neared the spot where Nature's fate would be decided the man turned to the Elvin and smiled.

"Everything is going according to plan."

"Blight is with my kind?" Blade asked.

"Yes. He believes what I told him."

And Tweedlewink again shuddered because the same slight look of bemusement crossed the Elvin's face. It wasn't readily visible, in fact, it probably wasn't visible to any other species except those who were once united.

"So the plan remains the same?" Blade inquired.

"Yes, for now."

And so Tweedlewink was brought into the encampment and ordered to use his explosive knowledge for the benefit of tunnel-digging. He was unaware of its purpose and hopeful it wouldn't do any lasting harm to Mother Nature's realm. He was not optimistic. He'd seen something in the Elvin and Human's interaction which caused his mind to think differently. He'd dealt with all kinds of species and found one trait easily recognizable. It was never shown outwardly but always in the eyes. What he saw was conspiracy. His brain began asking questions.

"Were the Elvin and Human conspiring against Blight?"

"Were they working for Mother Nature?"

"Were they working for their own purposes?"

But most of all it was asking one question over and over again. A question which arose from something he wore around his neck.

"Can Nature's amulet help?"
Chapter 31: Cocktail Clause

The Journey (Lazy River)

The camels were correct; they did know the route to the Lazy River. The landscape changed in normal fashion, gradually replacing one dominant theme and incorporating bits of the next until before one knew it they were in a completely different environment.

"Ooh! What is that?"

"I have no idea!"

Brutus glanced to where the Midglings were gawking and became a little confused.

"What are you two looking at?"

They jumped a little because the barbarian was riding atop the camel behind theirs and it took them a bit by surprise. They overcame their natural inclination to go comatose because they'd finally become accustomed to mercenaries' voices.

"That thing on the water" Stu responded.

Brutus again looked to where the little being pointed and sure enough, there was something on the water. It wasn't a thing though.

"That?' he asked by pointing.

"Uh-huh. Do you know what is it?"

Now, of course he knew what it was. Virtually everybody knew what it was but, in his defense, he hadn't conversed a lot with Midglings before so couldn't be held responsible for their actions.

"Duck."

Flop.

The problem with Midglings wasn't their personalities, bathing habits, language or any other myriad of distinctions which made one particular species an annoyance to others. No, the problem with Midglings was reactionary.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing, Sergeant, I swear on my mother's grave I didn't do anything!"

Midglings had survived the most brutal environments by learning to adapt. They would faint when encountering predators, faint when facing a weapon, faint at the mere mention of an Ogre and held one more fainting specialty in reserve; if they heard any kind of warning they would drop unconscious on the spot. When Brutus mentioned the bird's name the Midglings reacted accordingly. The good part was they had become accommodated to Humpy's hump so fainted without falling off.

"All right, little ones, it's time to wake up."

They arose to the sound of Brutus' voice.

"Hey, guys, I'm really sorry. I had no idea you were afraid of ducks."

He waited for them to faint again and was pleasantly surprised when they didn't.

"Hey! You stayed upright!"

Stu was the first to speak.

"Uh-huh, yep, Mr. Brutus, we did. And do you know why?"

The enormous barbarian's eyes opened a little wider because the Midgling appeared a little annoyed.

"Um... no?" he answered.

"Because that time you said 'Ducks'!"

Brutus stepped back because they were on the ground after dismounting and stepping back was what people did when verbally assaulted by a three-foot individual who was then joined by another.

"What are you so angry about?" the barbarian asked perplexedly.

"Ducks is plural! Duck is singular! And it becomes a verb when in singular form you big lummox!" screamed Wort.

Brutus was then in full retreat mode, backing up as the Midglings closed the gap between them.

"And what's with just the single word? Who the heck says 'Duck' when someone asks what a creature is? Have you never heard of putting an article in front of an individual species? How about "A duck' or 'It's a duck'? Would that have been so hard?" Stu yelled with eyes squinting inquisitively.

"Hey, hey, hey! What are you two getting so excited about? I was only..."

The barbarian was under full frontal assault by the insulted Midglings and both Deadaim and Savage were witness to the event.

"Are you going to help him?"

"Nope. Are you?"

"Nope."

So two of the deadliest mercenaries in any realm left another to the mercy of two Midglings irate about improper dictation choices.

"... and another thing! Don't ever yell 'Four'! I know it's a number but it sounds the same as...!"

While Brutus stared in wide-eyed confusion as creatures he could stomp berated him unmercifully the other two walked around to get a feel for the area. They were at the edge of the Lazy River, the waterway which separated the Land of Lawlessness from the Wild Lands. There wasn't a great distinction between the two realms except for the Overarchyng Law. One territory outlawed laws, the other merely enforced the ones in existence until they were deemed unnecessary due to the demise of whoever issued them.

"The place has improved."

"Yes, it has."

Both mercenaries were impressed because they, along with Brutus had been there before. Twice before. Under completely different circumstances heading in opposite directions. The three had arrived the first time when they left Blight's army after defeating the upstart baron. Their ruse to pass Deadaim off as one of the Prince's mercenaries worked so after receiving their pay for a war well done they decided to try the straight and narrow route.

"So this is the Lazy River."

"Yep."

"Why is it called lazy?"

"I think because the current runs slow."

The three looked toward the water and, sure enough, it was barely moving. The river was about thirty yards wide, bluish-black in color and on the shoreline were an assortment of watercraft. Boats, canoes, pontoons, rafts and other floating devices were all beached, sitting idly while their captains, skippers, oarsmen or whatever they called themselves either napped in hammocks or played cards on the opposite bank.

"Hello!" Savage yelled across the river.

The response he received was the card-players looking up from their hands and then returning their eyes to the same places.

"Did they just snub me?"

"It appears they did."

Savage was not accustomed to being ignored so tried again.

"Hello! We need passage across!"

The response was almost the same. No man moved even a fraction. It was not something the Sergeant could comprehend.

"Do you think they speak a different language?"

He asked the question to both but his eyes were on Deadaim.

"We're on the Wild Lands' shoreline. Over there is Lawlessness. This is not exactly a wide river. No, Sergeant, I don't think they're so far removed they speak a different language."

Savage didn't think so either. He thought he saw recognition when he yelled. They were close enough he could see their faces. When he'd asked for passage he was certain they'd heard him, only they then turned down their noses and resumed card-playing. People didn't react that way if they didn't understand something, they reacted differently when language was a barrier; they looked upon the other with confusion.

"Let me try" Brutus said.

"Go for it, Big Guy" Savage responded.

So Brutus cupped his hands around his mouth, took a giant breath and called across the water.

"Hey!"

The sound was thunderous, baritone and echoed for a good ten seconds. It was also completely ignored.

"You know, that's pretty inhospitable."

"Yep."

Both Savage and Brutus were of one mind; they wanted to wring some necks for rudeness' sake. They were both ascertaining whether they could cross the river by wading when they were afforded the opportunity to skip the wet-walking process.

"Let me give it a shot" Deadaim said.

"Sure, go ahead, but I don't think you can yell any louder than..." Savage began to say.

Twang!

Then he stood still.

Thunk!

Until the arrow unleashed by the master archer somehow found a trajectory which sunk its metal tip into the center of the card table.

"Yaagh!"

And finally smiled as four previously immobile men suddenly found movement.

They were ushered across by three of the men in three separate boats with the fourth sailing at the standby in case, somehow, someway, any of the boats suddenly sprang a leak and dampened the mood of the man who could place a miniature, feathered spear into a deck of cards in the center of a playing table over a thirty yard span of water.

"Thanks for the lift. How much do we owe you?"

It obviously cost nothing as the men virtually scrambled to offer their wares free of charge.

"Where's the liveliest town around?"

They were looking for their goldmine, the town with the moxie to make the most money. The answer was somewhat perplexing until realization sunk in as to nomenclature.

"Don't know. I haven't left this spot in..." one man began and paused in an attempt to recollect time.

They waited until it became apparent the man had either forgotten what he was searching his memory for or lost the question altogether. Savage then jumped in.

"Um... how long?"

The man looked at him confusingly and then suddenly his eyes opened wider.

"Oh, yeah! Let's see... hmm..."

And again they waited as the man became confused or bored or indifferent or whatever. It was a little uncomfortable because the other three men standing there, the ones who'd been playing cards with the dumbfounded one were also standing around doing absolutely nothing. Brutus then decided to give it his own try.

"Does anyone else know a good gambling town around here?"

His voice was so deep it shook everyone out of their slumber.

"Uh-huh."

"Yep."

"Sure do."

"Couldn't forget it."

And then they watched as the four card-playing river-crossers with advanced short-term memory-loss again went off into wonderland.

Brutus looked at Savage with questioning eyes, Savage returned the look with a shrug of his shoulders to indicate he had no idea what the problem was. Both thought they'd have a better chance finding a town if they just mounted the steeds they'd brought across the river. Once again, Deadaim encouraged the men to come to their senses.

Thunk!

"Yaagh!"

The four arrows quivering in the ground at the men's feet did the trick in rapid succession.

"Death's Valley!" they all yelled at the same time about one millisecond after their boots were almost sandalized in a very abrupt and painful manner.

After receiving the direction they set off in a quizzical state until Deadaim explained what he thought was the men's problem.

"The Lazy River."

Savage got it right away, Brutus needed a little more explanation.

"The water makes their minds lazy."

So they left to find fame and fortune, bought a hotel, converted it into a gambling hall, forbade cheating, became enormously successful, stopped a cheat from doing what they forbade, got caught doing so, were threatened with steak-conversion and Orc consumption for breaking the law in a land without laws and found themselves again at the river separating two very different but eerily similar realms.

"Are they still playing cards?"

The men were indeed sitting around the table although playing might have been a bit too verbal for the action. They were staring. The mercenaries watched as the men sat there, looking at cards which had a very obvious layer of dust on them.

"Um... Deadaim?"

Thunk!

And again found themselves on the other side of the river where they took up the mercenary life once more, signed on with the Prince who commanded beasts and a treasure-trove of gold, laid siege to Mother Nature's castle, learned Blight plotted their demise, tracked two who fled through the Breathtaking Forest, saved them from Trolls, watched camels grunt while a Midgling translated and finally arrived back at the river's shoreline which had definitely seen some improvement.

"It looks like a hotel."

"Yep."

It was a two story structure sitting on the shore facing the water. It was big, painted white and had a porch. On the porch sat a table, around the table sat four men, holding cards.

"It can't possibly be them be them, can it?"

They walked up the short flight of stairs and saw, yes, it was the same men. As they stood there, wondering how a hotel could possibly be sitting in a place so isolated it was only used as a river-crossing outpost, another man emerged through the swinging doors leading into the establishment.

"Hello, folks, welcome to the Fountain of Youth."

The man had a balding head, red cheeks and a great white beard. He wore a red suit with white fur linings and appeared to be in his fifties. He was carrying a tray of drinks which he sat down in front of the men who seemingly were in a perpetual game of card-observation.

"Hello" Savage replied.

Deadaim merely nodded his hello.

"You all staying awhile?"

Savage was completely intrigued. It hadn't been so long since they last visited and he couldn't figure how a hotel could appear in such a short time.

"Um... no, we're just passing through."

The man looked up after setting the last glass down in front of a lazy poker-player, looked over the mercenaries with a gleam in his eye and appeared to reach a conclusion.

"Well, you can at least come in and have a drink."

He then turned around before either could reply so they did what visitors were required to do when a host was gracious and followed. What they saw upon entering was astonishing. It was an enormous room, filled with wooden tables surrounded by chairs. In every chair sat a person. Savage did a quick estimate and surmised there were around sixty people in the establishment. The odd part, though, was the noise level; there was only a moaning.

"What would you gentlemen like?"

The man didn't ask the question in a raised voice, there was no need, but when he spoke it thundered in the cavernous hall. So loud both Savage and Deadaim startled a bit for they weren't prepared for the acoustics. As they did they noticed something else; quite a few of the other patrons in the place were also startled but in somewhat a different way. Instead of jerking in the normal manner they shrunk their heads between their shoulders, placed hands over ears and groaned.

"Um, I don't know...?" Deadaim began.

Groan.

"... what do you suggest?" Savage finished.

Retch.

Deadaim watched the crowd cringe as Savage listened to the bartender with a strange cocktail menu begin reciting his cordials.

"I've got Cactus Juice..."

Moan.

"...Cactus Kicker..."

Dear God.

"... Cactus Cocktail..."

Get a bucket.

Whenever the man spoke the audience in the place sunk a little lower, became a bit more pale and stuffed a tad more fingertips into their ear-holes. Deadaim was about to say something when he was interrupted.

"Hey! There you are!"

Moan. Groan.

Brutus walked through the door followed by Stu and Wort who were wide-eyed in wonderful delight.

"Wow!"

Oh God.

"Uh-huh, uh-huh, I was thinking the same thing!"

Kill me now.

"This must be a saloon!"

Where's that bathroom.

"Uh-huh, uh-huh, I think so too!"

I'm going to vomit.

They were slightly taken aback by the odd reception but Brutus, being who he was, ignored the ungracious welcome and strolled up to the bar like he owned the place.

"Hey, Sergeant, we got time for a drink?"

And, of course, a moan emerged.

"Well, I guess we have time for one but..."

Dear Lord above.

Brutus was of the northern climate. A climate with bitter winters and not so warm summers. His kind had learned to adapt to their environment. An environment inhospitable to outside living for long stretches of time. No outside living meant inside living. Inside living meant close confinement with others. Close confinement brought about irritation. Irritation which could be soothed through certain liquid remedies.

"All right! Drinks all around! They're on me!"

Yay!

The reaction was the complete opposite of everything which occurred before. People sat up, their eyes grew wider and lip-smacking could be heard throughout the room. Before long the place was roaring with laughter as everyone raised a glass to toast the wandering mercenaries who bought joy for the house.

"Sergeant?"

"Yes, Deadaim?"

The archer was not one for inebriated revelry.

"I believe we should be careful of the intoxicants."

Savage was not one to let his guard down.

"I know. It's why I'm drinking orange juice."

Brutus, on the other hand, was an gigantic Human and thus relatively impervious to the liquid within normal limits.

"Brutus."

"Yes, Sergeant?"

"Keep a clear head. We're leaving as soon as the others lose theirs."

The Sergeant and Deadaim had come to the idea relatively early in the imbibement process. They needed transportation down the river and were rather dubious they could talk any of the men who owned the watercraft to take time away from their life-long siestas. They therefore decided to relieve them of their ability to say 'no' and take one instead. They wouldn't steal it, per se, merely borrow it for an unknown period of time until they were able to return it if they remembered where it was and were in the position to do so. They were also going to leave some gold for the rental. Both figured the odds of the money finding its way to the proper owner were somewhat iffy but it eased their minds so they decided to go ahead with the process. They were, thus, solely biding their time until the audience became drunk. All three mercenaries were aware of the plan and acted accordingly. The Midglings, though, were not and also acted accordingly.

"Hey, Stu?"

"Yes, Wort?"

"What are you drinking?"

"Cactus Coronary! What are you drinking?"

"Cactus Colada!"

Midglings were not unaware of alcoholic beverages, they were unaware of Human alcoholic beverages. In Middlesome the intoxication department had set proper percentages for Midgling consumption based on height, weight and overall tolerance. Not so on the top-side world.

"What'll it be?" the greatest bartender in the only saloon on the Lazy River asked.

"Another" Stu slurred.

"I'll have what he's having" Wort slobbered.

And so within an hour of the first cocktails sliding down their throats the two from underground found themselves sitting on barstools watching the world go round.

"Whee!"

"Yippee!"

Until they realized the error of their ways.

"Whoa, that was stupid."

"Uh-huh, a little dizzifying too."

After they learned spinning around on barstools while partaking cacti inebriates was slightly disconcerting to their equilibriums they stopped and went back to the business of mind-numbing.

"Hey, Stu?"

"Yeah, Wort?"

"I love you, man!"

"I love you too, man!"

After declaring their Midgling love for another and gazing around at all the other drinking compatriots singing songs and generally having a rowdy good time they realized a problem.

"Hey, Barkeep!"

The old man turned, looked and wandered over.

"You two ready for another round?"

Belch.

"Yep!"

Burp.

"Now I am!"

As the time went by the regulars in the establishment began realizing things they had forgotten while recuperating from the night before.

"Hey! You still owe me a drink!"

"No I don't! You owe me a drink!"

And so the two Midglings had a ring-side seat for the evening's entertainment. There wasn't much, actually, usually a few misplaced punches which would've done little damage if the contestants were in the right frame of mind but as it was, since they weren't, whenever a single knuckle touched anywhere on face-flesh the recipient hit the floor like a bag of wet noodles.

Belch.

"Did you see that?"

Burp.

"See what"

Belch.

"Um, I forgot what we were talking about."

Burp.

"Ha! So did I!"

Now, while the Midglings were amusing themselves with pickled brain juice the other three mercenaries were preparing for the journey ahead. They knew where the Midglings were going and felt they had a pretty good shot at exacting some revenge on Prince Blight if they helped the little beings. Brutus was wandering the room, talking to the patrons in an attempt to learn which water vehicle would be the best to borrow, Deadaim had gone outside to get a look at the various floating barges and Savage was talking with the proprietor to get his perspective on things. It turned out the man's name was Santa Anna Banana Bonanza Crunchy Creamy Coconut.

"... but everyone just calls me Santa Clause."

"Why?"

"Well, it's a long story but I'll try and give you the shortened version. You see, I previously ran a business catering to children. We had a toy store, some amusement rides and a nice little parlor where we made this brand new food called Brain-Freeze."

"Brain-Freeze?"

"Yep, Brain-Freeze. It's this creamy dairy product you mix with sugar and ice and everything nice and before you know it you're gobbling it down so fast your brain locks up and gives you this splitting headache."

"Sounds painful."

"Oh, yeah, it's painful all right. But let me tell you this; once you've had some Brain-Freeze you'll happily take a splitting headache once in a while to taste the wonderful delight. It's like paradise on the tongue!"

Savage himself wasn't really interested in the man's story but the guy seemed to be enjoying himself and had such good humor he decided to sit back and hear the tale.

"Anyway, business was booming and I needed some help so I hired a few Elfins to give me a hand. I would keep track of the books, take the orders and stuff while they built the toys, ran the rides and served the Brain-Freeze. Everything was running smoothly until I had the brilliant idea of incorporating my name into one of the products."

As Savage listened he also kept an eye on the others in the room. They were all in various stages of misbehavior and he began wondering just what was in the cactus puree the bartender was serving.

"It was a huge hit! The children were lining up for miles to get some of the cool treat."

"Huh?"

"The Banana-Bonanza-Crunchy-Creamy-Coconut-Freeze! It was the biggest thing to hit town since the local Sheriff returned from vacation and showed everyone bread could be sliced with a knife! Anyway, I thought I had the answer to wealth in my hands but, as with all endeavors, it ran into a snag."

At the mention of wealth Savage's interest peaked.

"What snag?"

"My distributers; the ones supplying me with the other flavors for my parlor business. When the Banana-Bonanza hit the market all their other product pretty much became obsolete. Well, they had a lot of income tied up in the other flavors and asked if I'd discontinue the Banana-Bonanza so they could reap a profit."

"Did you?"

"Heck no! What do I care if they invested too heavily. I'm a forward kind of guy. You know, future thinking and all that kind of nonsense. So when they asked me to discontinue what was my best money-maker I told them to take a jump."

Savage heard stories like it before so had a hint of what came next.

"They retaliated, didn't they?"

"Yep."

"How?"

"They went after my other business. They got to my Elfins."

The story, like all successful business tales, came down to greed. Santa was greedy, his distributors were greedy and, as it turned out, the Elfins were also susceptible to the green lady's charm. The distributors went to the Elfins and offered them a package they couldn't refuse; a percentage of Santa's business if they went on strike. It turned out Santa was over-leveraged. While his parlor business was more successful profit-wise it was also much cheaper to run. The toy-factory was not. It was an enormous facility with tools and storage which was rather expensive to maintain and, while profitable, it was also susceptible to market forces. If the Elfins went on strike Santa would not be able to pay the mortgage and, since his parlor business was part of his portfolio, if the toy-factory went under the creditors would take the parlor to recoup their losses.

"Why didn't you just fire the Elfins and hire replacements?"

"Because of the business, my boy! Have you ever seen children's toys?"

Now, of course, Savage had seen children's toys but he wasn't exactly an expert on the little wooden sculptures so went along with the man's tale.

"Yes, what was the problem?"

"They're amazingly difficult to produce! They're so gosh darn tiny! Think about it. Imagine how hard it is to make a decent chair. Now, imagine whittling that piece of wood down one-hundred times the size and you get the finished product. Now, think about replicating that process a hundred times a month and that's where the business model breaks down. Without the Elfins I couldn't deliver the orders."

"Why?"

"Their hands! They've got the perfect sized hands to make children's toys. Human hands are much too big. So, there I was sitting on a gold mine but also looking at financial ruin."

"What did you do?"

"Well, I'm a businessman so I looked at the writing on the wall, realized I had little to gain by fighting back but also wasn't all too thrilled about being blackmailed out of my new-found taste creation so I struck a bargain; I told the Elfins they could buy me out with one condition."

"The banana stuff?"

"Yep, the Banana-Bonanza-Crunchy-Creamy-Coconut-Freeze was mine. They could keep everything else but they could not have that."

"And they agreed?"

"Well, yes, but there was an exception and that's where my name came about."

About that time the place was hopping, literally hopping, because someone pulled out a harmonica and the tune was such where hopping was part of the dance.

"What was the exception?"

"I could only sell it during one period of the year. The clause in the contract states the name Banana-Bonanza-Crunchy-Creamy-Coconut can only be used when my product is for sale. The rest of the time I must keep the name to myself."

"And you agreed?"

"Heck yeah I agreed! Think it through. I didn't need to deal with a bunch of strike-threatening Elfins, I could take the rest of the year off and, when the time came for me to reintroduce the incredible Brain-Freeze sensation, I had a ready market just waiting for me to make enough money to support myself the rest of the year until I did it again."

"So it worked out for you."

"Yep, it was a dream come true."

Savage glanced around and the obvious question arose.

"So why are you here?"

Santa looked at him with humor and let out a jolly old belly laugh.

"Oh, well that's a different story altogether. You see, I had quite a bit of time on my hands and I like to visit new places. Well, one time I decided to see Lawlessness so I set out and got to the other side of the Lazy River and do you know what I found?"

"Yep."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh, you found a bunch of card-playing river-ferriers who wouldn't do their job and give you passage."

"Exactly! So I swam across the river to give them a piece of my mind when all of a sudden this lone rider comes racing up on this horse of his. Now, I'm a pretty observant individual and I saw this rider was in somewhat a hurry, what with the posse on his tail and all that, so when he demanded my boat I told him I'd trade it for what was in his saddlebags."

"Hold on."

"What?" Santa asked with a knowing grin.

"Your boat? I thought you swam across."

"I did. But he didn't know that. So I thought I'd do a little business investing and get back at those lazy river-boat captains at the same time. When he asked for my boat I acted like I owned one, demanded his saddlebags in trade which he accepted and now I'm here."

Something wasn't quite right with the ending.

"Why would that mean you're here?"

"Because of what was in those bags, my boy! There was gold! A bunch of gold! Well, to make a long story a medium one I invested the gold in this here hotel because I could see the potential of the place. I mean, the owner of the boat I sold to the running man never even questioned me on it. Go figure that! This place has such a draw to the people who drink the water they willingly let their lives slip away so long as they can get the sweet taste of the liquid. So I decided to make a tidy profit out of their misfortune. They give me their life-savings and in return I give them a line of credit serving cactus pulp mixed with river water. It's a win-win all around! I get a place to hole up until I come out of retirement once a year to sell my Banana-Bonanza and when I do I have a house full of perfectly willing inhabitants who will sit numbly by until I return to deliver them their Fountain of Youth."

"Huh?"

"What?"

"Fountain of Youth?"

"Yep, it's why I gave this place its name."

"I'm not following."

"Think about it, my boy! Why are all these grown men hanging around a hotel acting like a bunch of moronic teenagers?"

"Because of the cactus concoctions?"

"Yep, they drink what comes out of my fountain and return to their youths; a bunch of self-absorbed, over-inflated, macho, wanna' be tough guys. And for that they must pay for the privilege."

Savage looked around and could very well imagine the fat man's take. There were men of every age, every race and all had one thing in common; they were perfectly willing to give their money away for what the man in red was selling.

"How much are you pulling in?"

Santa glanced at him askew.

"Are you with the authorities?"

Savage was slightly taken aback.

"No, and by the way, there are no authorities. This is Lawlessness, remember?"

Santa's eyes opened a bit wider.

"You know what? I keep forgetting that! Huh, you'd think after all this time I'd remember. Ah, well, to answer your question what I'm earning is kind of an up-front fee, sort of top-loaded if you know what I mean."

Savage didn't and said so.

"Well, the men in this room, all of them, give me what they have and I promise to keep their minds mushy until the end of time. So far, the end of time appears to be about two-hundred years from now."

Savage wasn't sure he heard correctly.

"Two hundred?"

"Yep. I know it sounds absurd but, with what I've earned and the price of river-water and cactus being what it is, I figure in two hundred years these men will have drunk me dry."

Savage's mouth was agape. He couldn't believe what he was hearing but also wasn't about to contradict a man who obviously had a rabid following and a business model for success. He was considering offering the man a partnership of sorts. He was thinking he could bring some of the more wealthy merchants he'd worked for and see if old Clause could get them to pony up their money and, in return, he'd receive a finder's fee when things went a different direction.

"Sergeant."

"Yes, Deadaim?"

"We have a problem."

"What kind of problem?"

"The Elvin kind."
Chapter 32: Seven Deadly Sins

The Pursuit (Lawlessness)

They rode with a ruthless abandon, the horses lathered with the exertion. They didn't care. The death of lesser creatures was of little concern. They had a target to remove and a need to fulfill. They could not allow one of their own to fall victim to any but their kind. The rule was sacrosanct. Thwart an assassin and meet the hand of Death.

She rode alongside the others, quiet, composed, like a shadow. She could think of nowhere else to be, no one else to be with and she was content. Her life had ended with the death of another, a death she had caused, a death she had spoken. She was now one with the victim, one with the instrument, one with the Lady herself. Any who saw her knew the truth, it was written in her eyes, etched on her face, buried in her soul. She rode because she could not do otherwise. She was already dead inside and willing to let it loose.

He led because it was his duty to do so. He was the leader, the one they'd chosen, the one whose mission had changed. Under his watch the unthinkable occurred, one of theirs had fallen victim to another. He could not allow it to happen. A consequence would follow, always, endlessly, unmercifully. Their kind held a reputation, a truth, a fact. Oppose one and oppose all, deny the individual and meet the whole. The way had been practiced since the beginning. It was necessary.

"The Guild is called to order."

A great war had been fought. One attempted to rule all and seven united in defiance. The One lost and the seven celebrated. They became arrogant. It was their undoing.

"Are all agreed?"

The council voiced their approval and the plan set in motion. The seven had united to defeat the One. One would be employed to defeat seven.

"Who will be first?"

"Sloth."

"Then let it begin."

King Sloth was as his name implied; a lazy individual who was as happy in filth as he was in luxury. He ruled a kingdom of chaos. It was ill-defined, ill-tended and wantonly lax of security. Sloth agreed to partner with the other kingdoms because he could not stand alone. He was unmotivated, uninspired and short on time. It took a whisper to start the retribution.

"Sloth does not deserve what he acquired. Kill him and take what is rightfully yours."

Prince Gluttony was an individual of insatiable desires. He could never be pleased because he could not achieve ease. He was continually nervous, constantly alert and always in need of sustenance. Sloth held an answer for his short-term wants. He dispatched the lazy monarch with a single sword-stroke.

"Sloth is dead?"

"Yes."

"Then proceed with the next."

The Guild was at war. They had been responsible for the death of the One. The seven had hired them to rid the land of its presence. They had succeeded and awaited payment. The seven, feeling emboldened with their new-found power, declined to honor their contract. It was a decision of mortal consequences.

"Gluttony has what you desire. Kill him and fulfill your wishes."

Queen Lucida, Lady Lust herself, was ever aware of others. She longed for what they possessed, had a desire to hold what they owned and could not be placated. She could not ignore the wealth of those who held what should be hers. Gluttony was an easy kill. It took one teaspoon of poison in one bottle of wine. It didn't matter which bottle for Gluttony could never contain himself and drank till all were empty. He died with a smile on his face and a tongue swollen three times its normal size.

"Gluttony is gone?"

"Yes."

"Then allow Lust to meet her fate."

Emperor Envy was a particularly annoying ruler. He was always complaining about the gifts given to others and was unaware of those given to him. He was secretive, untrustworthy and forever plotting to achieve greatness at the expense of everyone else. He devised a ruse to rid the land of Lust. It wasn't so hard. She couldn't contain her natural interests.

"Queen Lucida, would you like to see the new horse I acquired?"

She was dead an hour later, thrown from a stallion which had a reputation; it could not be tamed. Lust's curiosity peaked when the horse was brought before her and she couldn't deny her inclination to possess the creature. She mounted, the beautiful beast galloped and it appeared she might even ride what could not be ridden. She didn't, of course, because a sliver had been placed in the horse's hoof. She broke her neck when head hit turf and another of the seven met their end when a voice of treason whispered in another's ear.

"Who's next?"

"Wraith."

"How will you accomplish it?"

"We need do nothing. Lust was his desire."

The Duke of Wraith was a ferocious being. He was first in battle and last to leave the field. He was arrogant, impulsive and utterly infatuated with Lady Lust.

"Envy killed Lust."

The words were all that was needed. He rode into the Emperor's encampment, challenged the ruler to a duel and removed his head shortly thereafter.

"Envy has departed?"

"Yes."

"Then continue the process."

There were three left. The first was easy.

"Wrath holds the combined wealth of five. Rid him and you will hold six."

Queen Greed ruled her kingdom with the power of the purse. She reaped the wealth of nations for her own purposes. She was insightful, cunning and a ruthless adversary. She was also quite an attractive woman.

"I am sorry to hear about Lady Lust. Maybe I can be of some comfort in your hour of need?"

Wraith was imperious, wealthy and powerful. He'd defeated numerous armies and commanded a force without equal. Unfortunately for him, he was also a man. She slit his throat as he slept. She then lay beside him and dreamt the dreams of empires.

"Two are left?"

"Yes."

"Then let two be one."

The advisor had saved the best for last. He would be needed for two purposes. The first was pretty straight forward.

"Queen Greed insulted your honor. You know what must be done."

King Pride was the greatest ruler of all. He was honest, trustworthy and dependable. He was also the partner to Greed. She betrayed his trust, had lain with Wraith, and would pay the price to reclaim his integrity.

"Hello, King Pride, what a pleasant surprise."

He said nothing.

"What is wrong?"

She knew not for she was reveling in the riches of others.

"What are you doing?"

He was taking her head, of course. An insult had been given and the reward she reaped was to last an eternity.

"You are the last."

King Pride nodded his head. He knew he was the last. What he didn't know was why?

"You have been deceived."

He looked upon his trusted advisor with wary eyes. The man appeared to change.

"I am not of your kind."

He grew slightly smaller in stature but for some reason appeared more sinister in nature.

"I am of the Elvin."

His features defined, sharpened, became focused.

"You owe us payment for a deed accomplished."

The King became aware of something else. He was not alone with the other.

"I would like you to meet my master. You may know it as Torment."

A shape began to materialize. Fear took on a new dimension as he realized the truth.

"You may live or die. It is your choice. Understand the consequences, though. You made a bargain and broke the contract. You are, thus, deficient in our eyes. You will be remembered as one who lacks conviction, who spits upon promises, who is not to be trusted. You will forever be seen as a thief, a liar, a cheat. You may gain a reputation in battle but never again in society."

King Pride listened as his worst fears were revealed to him.

"All who listen will know the truth; your words hold not fact, they are a fiction of oral design."

He could not tolerate the thought so begged the question.

"What can I do to change this?"

The Infidel smiled. He'd been chosen to play the part and his victory was sweet indeed.

"You may pay the price agreed upon but it will only affect the physical. The spiritual will remain unchanged."

"How do I change the spiritual?"

"It is dependent upon the beliefs of others. If they perceive you worthy then the afterlife will also."

The King took the advice, he had no choice for the Elvin spoke the truth; they had broken their pledge and he was deficient of honor.

"I, King Pride, do decree the wealth of the combined empires to be placed in the hands of the Guild. They fulfilled their end of the bargain and we will uphold ours."

The crowd which gathered listened as the man they knew to be trustworthy attempted to regain their faith.

"I have sinned. It is no one's fault but my own. The Guild has agreed to allow the kingdom to continue. They have accepted what was promised in the beginning; the amount of the original contract, the contract I broke. In accordance with their wishes and the desire to retain my mortal soul I now hand the kingdom over to my prodigy; my son, your king."

He placed the crown upon the child's head as all in attendance worried about what would come next.

"I ask for your forgiveness, your sympathy, your prayers. I will never see you again in this life but I hope to see you in another."

The King's last words fell upon the listeners as a dagger, held by his own hands, plunged into his heart.

"So it is done?"

"Yes."

"Death holds them all?"

"Yes."

"Then the mission is complete. Let's move on. We have a proposal for a new contract. There is a prince who wishes to rid himself of a rival. He has offered..."

The Infidel listened with abstract interest because he was intrigued. He wondered when King Pride realized the truth. Was it instantaneous? Did his master meet him at the gates or did Death greet him first? He decided it didn't really matter in the greater scheme of things. Death was omnipotent in her realm. If she wished to possess the King's soul for a while there really was nothing Torment could do. But he still wondered with vague amusement if the King realized his error. Torment wasn't a product of outside influence; it was of the internal, the mind, the soul. The King's grand gesture could not remove the stain because the tarnish was permanent. Covering the scar didn't remove the blemish. Eventually the bandage would vanish and the wound reappear. When it did Torment would notice. And its interest could last an eternity.

They came upon the destination suddenly, they reared the steeds and dismounted. Slicer signaled and the one without a name departed. She was the best of them and they knew her for what she was; an infiltrator of perfect skill. She crept closer, low to the ground unseen by those wishing sight. She was one with the land, a particle of sand, a piece of the larger whole. The target was easy to identify. A large structure sitting among no others. She counted the numbers. Four could be seen on the porch, lost in some card-game of concentration. She allowed her eyes to wander, taking in the entire scene, unaware another had noticed her presence. She was ever careful, always concealed, never out of place. It saved her life.

Thunk!

The arrow was a message. They were aware. She slid away to tell the others, amazed one could view what all others could not. She'd not seen the one who fired the shot. There was no need. She'd met him before. She was eager to make his acquaintance again.
Chapter 33: Clearview's Vision

The Siege (Castle Nirvana)

The interior of the room was warming to the senses. He knew peace and love were its components. He dreaded informing them of his knowledge.

"They have drilled a well. Blight uses a carcass to poison our water."

The others looked on with astonishment. What had been accomplished should not have been possible.

"Are you sure, Hawkeye?"

He chose his words cautiously. The one who asked was a force of his own.

"Yes, General, I am. Longshot viewed the shaft himself. They have bored to water level. It's what's causing our dilemma."

The players in the room were the best of the realm. They were everything others aspired to be and appeared in various clothing. One of them wore a robe.

"They bore through rock?"

"Yes, Councilor."

"Then they had help."

"Yes, Councilor."

Clearview's gift was not one of divination. He could not see the future any more than an Ogre could count to two. What he had was better.

"They have an Elfin."

His mind was logical. He saw reality through clear lenses. It was not always a gift. Sometimes it was a curse.

"Buy this book!"

"Why?"

"It will show you the way to financial freedom!"

"How?"

"Buy the book and find out!"

He obviously didn't buy the book. Logically there was no way a person who'd gleaned the secret to success would share it with the masses. If everyone obtained success then, by definition, no one did. If all were equal how could success be measured? It didn't mean he didn't take something away from the encounter, though.

"You have what we in the medical profession like to call a predisposition to heart attack."

"Oh my God! Is it dangerous?"

"Yes, a heart attack is a dangerous event."

"But I don't feel bad."

"You won't. The symptoms will not appear until it is too late."

"What do I do?"

"Take these pills for the rest of your life."

He'd gone into the new sciences. They were all the rage. They were also highly profitable.

"So, I just drink this once a day and I will ward off the plague?"

"Yes, but you must never miss a dose."

The idea hit him like a thunderstorm. Give people what they wanted. For a price, of course.

"This will save me from the deadly disease?"

"Yes, but only if you take it every day. If you fail to remember then nothing can save you."

The best part of the racket was the results. He dealt in warding off death. If he were unsuccessful who could point out the fact?

"My husband died."

"Yes, I heard, I am very sorry for your loss."

"But you said the medicine would prevent the illness."

"It will, but for some people the dose must be higher. Come, I will re-prescribe your proper amount."

"Will it cost more?"

"Yes, but for you I will make an exception. I will only charge half the current rate."

He'd developed a reputation. He was the man to visit if one wished to avoid the ailments of life. He was young, prosperous and hopelessly in love. She'd entered his office with a question.

"My child is sick. Can you help him?"

She'd left with his heart.

Her name was Donna Benbrook. She was slight of height, pale of tone and the most lovely creature he'd ever seen. She was also married.

"My husband is away. He is a soldier in the King's army. We are not very happy."

He learned a lot from listening. He could spot truth within seconds and formulate the reason why some people lied. The differences were minute but important.

"I need some more sleeping formula."

"You've already used the last batch?"

"Um... no, I spilled it. Can I please have some more?"

Most people lied to further their interests. Some people lied to further another's.

"Do you have any more of that pain remedy?"

"Are you still having headaches?"

"Um... yes, they just won't seem to go away."

He wasn't a fool, he could very well see with his own eyes a certain segment of the population walking around in a haze, oblivious to their surroundings, doped up on the opiates he prescribed to others, others who passed his prescriptions along to an addicted public. If he would've cared it might have made a difference.

"How much do you need?"

"How much do you have?"

He was living the high life. Everything within reach. Everything, that is, except the one thing he wanted most.

"How is your boy?"

"He's fine, thanks to you. I don't know how I can repay you."

He knew. He dreamt of her every night. His every waking moment was filled with thoughts of him and his adorable Donna living happily ever after in a cottage by the lake whispering sweet nothings in each other's ear and laying together till the end of times.

"My husband is returning."

Unfortunately there was one who stood in the way.

"Are you still unhappy?"

He'd been on the receiving end, privilege to information others would find confidential.

"Yes, ours is a loveless marriage."

He saw the opportunity and ran with it.

"I can help with that."

The idea was simple. Remove the obstacle and receive the prize. His instructions were specific.

"Pour this in his drink."

"What will it do?"

"It will reignite the love of those who lost it."

He waited in anticipation. His dream would come true. If one stood in the way of his every desire then one would need to die so his love could prevail. Everything was going according to plan. Until it didn't.

"Doctor!"

He woke with her memory fresh in his mind. A glorious feeling filled with laughter and delight.

"Doctor! Are you in there?"

He opened the door to a stranger. A stranger he knew everything about.

"Please hurry! It is my wife, she will not awaken!"

He ran with dread, knowing the truth but refusing to believe. When he looked reality raised its head. He had done the unthinkable, the incomprehensible, the immoral. She had done what he asked, delivered the dose to the one who needed it most.

"Please help her! She is my life!"

He learned a truth that terrible morning.

"I am so sorry, she is dead."

Sometimes the cure was worse than the malady.

"Councilor?"

"Yes, My Queen?"

"What is your advice?"

They had been debating what to do. The well Longshot spied upon was in the rear of Blight's encampment. They'd already discarded a mounted attack. They might be able to plug the well but would find it impossible to return. The numbers needed to reach the destination were such they would put the castle's defenses on perilous grounds. The cost of victory would be the price of defeat. They could not afford to lose very few let alone the amount needed for a successful attack so they were exploring over other scenarios, ones with a semblance of hope.

"Can Goliath reach the well from here?"

The Giant was one consideration.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes" came his thunderous reply.

"Okay, give it a toss."

The boulder thrown was of proportionate size to fill the hole. They would first need to remove the carcass but were attempting to ascertain if the Giant could then stopper the shaft afterwards.

"Did I throw it far enough?"

The one he asked had the best eyes on the wall.

"Um... no, but you hit some Trolls. Made a nice puddle out of them, too."

The Giant was not happy. He didn't like pulverizing Trolls. He didn't enjoy pulverizing anything. But Mother Nature asked so he responded and the greatest Skee-ball event the world ever saw took place in her realm.

"What about that one?"

"Um.. nope, just some Orcs that time. You know, you'd think they'd see it coming?"

Hawkeye wasn't exactly enthused either. Now, he didn't particularly care if some Ogres or Orcs happened to get flattened by a boulder but he wasn't all too keen on watching it take place.

"Yuck!"

"What?"

"Um... that one kind of hit at an angle."

"So?"

"Well, it sort of removed a head."

"A head?"

"Uh-huh, yep, a head. A Troll head to be precise. And it appears Troll torsos go on living a little while longer when their heads are removed."

"Huh?"

"It ran around and spurted Troll juice on everyone."

"Yuck!"

"Yep, that seems to be the word for it."

After exhausting a few large boulders it was discovered Goliath could not reach the well so they stopped squishing monsters and returned to discuss other considerations.

"Can we boil the water?"

"Yes, that's what we're doing now but we're eventually going to run out of firewood and Mother Nature needs to reserve her powers to help with the fatigue situation."

The prospects were looking dim. Somehow they needed to alter the situation. If the water could not be decontaminated they would either perish or admit defeat. Defeat was not an option for some in the room. They owed her everything.

"Is there a doctor in the house?"

He didn't move, he couldn't, he was indisposed with depression.

"Please, somebody, fetch a doctor! My child is dying!"

The sickness had come with the weather. The bitter cold kept people indoors, the same air circulated through various lungs, the microscopic pores infected the weakest of them. The children were particularly susceptible, their immune systems insufficient against the disease.

He sat still as others ran amok. He was not of the world. He was preparing for the other. He merely needed courage to go through with the deed. The bar seemed a logical choice. Alcohol had the effect of dulling the senses and, to him, a dulling was the prescription he desired.

"You ready for another?"

"Yes."

The bartender nodded, reached for a bottle and filled the decanter with liquid oblivion. His eyes watched as his mind wandered. He'd killed her. He didn't mean to, he meant to kill the other. It didn't matter. She was dead and he would soon follow. Everything was going according to plan. And then it didn't.

"Doctor?"

The man was vaguely familiar.

"It's me, Robert Benbrook. Donna was my wife."

He remembered what he wished to forget.

"Please, I need your help. My son has caught the disease."

The child again. The one who brought love to his life. The one who brought tragedy with it. The one he'd taken a mother from.

"I am no longer a doctor."

The man looked at him like he was insane.

"So? It's not like you forgot everything, is it?"

He sat for a second then made a decision. He would trade one good deed for the opposite; give life so he could meet death. He rose. He staggered. He fell. He could not even stand straight. He was a failure even with good intentions. Then she entered.

"You have done enough. It is time to heal."

His vision cleared, his balance returned, he moved with a quickness he had not known he possessed.

"Where is the boy?"

"At the house. We are fearful of moving him."

He ran with a purpose, a need, an urgency. If he could do one thing in life it would be to bring her back. She was beyond his reach. Her child was not.

"We must break the fever."

"How?"

"Place him in the tub. I will return."

The infection was strong, the child weak. He was burning up inside, his body's response to kill the disease was killing the host. He took a chance. It went against everything they said. He didn't care. The child would live so he could die.

"What are you doing?"

"We must cool the child. He will not survive if his temperature remains the same."

They placed the snow in the tub. The child barely noticed. He was in the state of delirium, the final phase, the last act, the choice between life and death. They waited. The time turned to night, the moon relieved the sun, a neighbor relieved the father as he fell asleep in the next room. The doctor never moved. Nothing was different. The boy was still sick, the fever still burned, the doctor still waited. All remained as it was. And then it didn't.

"Momma?"

He jerked awake. He'd fallen asleep in the chair, sitting with hands folded in prayer, silently begging his beliefs were true.

"Daddy?"

The man ran into the room. He looked upon the doctor with eyes the color of steel, a forehead etched with grief, a man near the end of emotional tolerance.

"Is he...?"

"Yes, he will live."

The father broke down in tears. He wept with unashamed joy and begged the doctor to take his coin.

"I cannot."

His time was done. He'd fulfilled his promise and planned on collecting another. He returned to the bar, sat on the stool and prepared for it to be done.

"What'll it be?"

He was ready with an answer. He would try the strong stuff, the aged liquor, the fluid of last regret. He would sit alone, pondering his fate, wallowing in remorse. The boy had seen what he had dreamt. She'd been there all along. She was the reason one lived. She was the reason one died. Everything came full circle. All points lead the same direction. He could think of no reason to change the course of events. Nothing could alter his mind. And then it did.

"Come with me."

"Where are we going?"

"Home."

She was there when he needed, never asking anything in return, giving all of herself so he could give his.

"Can you bring her back?"

"No."

She never lied. She didn't need to. She held no one's interest higher than another. She was the giver of life not the bringer of death. She was goodness personified, a light in the night, a beacon of love.

"Will I ever be whole again?"

She took time to answer for she was not one to utter things without thought.

"You will never be fully healed. To do so would be to forget her altogether. You will find peace in time if you give your life to others. She will notice. She is above us all."

He thought on what she said. He then asked what was ever on his mind.

"Will she forgive me?"

"She already has."

He knew not how she knew nor did he care. He knew she spoke the truth and it gave him hope.

"Mother Nature?"

"Yes?"

"Can you cure my sadness?"

She looked at him with eyes so blue the skies were unable to duplicate. He became lost in her gaze, forgetting time, forgetting place, forgetting everything except one.

"There is only one cure and I believe you know what it is."

He was pretty sure himself.

"Death?"

"Yes."

He'd been right. He thought so but with her answer he stood justified. He gleaned another truth that day. He'd been right about something else also. Once again she reinforced his belief with her words.

"I am sorry but sometimes the cure is no cure at all."

Councilor Clearview never forgot her words and he practiced them daily. If he could not do good he would do nothing. He owed another that much. It was not one he wished to see. He'd never physically harmed another, but he knew where he stood and vowed to make amends. He could never confess for to do so would cause more harm than good. What do you say to a man who lost his love because she'd lost it herself? How do you tell another the reason for his wife's death was responsible for his child's life?

"Councilor?"

"Yes?"

"Your advice?"

He was ready. She relied on him and he would come through. The answer would tax their very foundation but he could not see an alternate vision.

"We will need to plug the hole from this side."
Chapter 34: A Valiant Quest

The Siege (Blight's Encampment)

The Troll Toodrake was watching as another found endless sleep.

"Tell them to look up!"

The other ones, his kind, agreed to do so but it was a difficult process. Their warnings didn't fall on deaf ears, exactly, but on ears attached to heads without memorization skills.

"Hey Orc!"

Grunt.

"Watch the sky above! That's where the rocks are falling from!"

Grunt.

The Orcs would glance skyward, not see a rock and forget why some of their fellow soldiers were playing pancake.

Splat!

"This is humiliating."

Cutter couldn't agree more. He didn't care one way or the other but agreed the flattening of Blight's creatures was a little embarrassing considering they only needed to scan eyes upward for avoidance of permanent pressing. The fact they didn't furthered his beliefs; any creature stupid enough not to avoid falling rocks was a creature he would willingly sacrifice for his gain.

"It doesn't matter. The Giant cannot reach the target."

They'd realized the reason for the thrown projectiles early on. It wasn't a surprise. They knew the Queen's defenders would attempt to put a stop to their plans. It was why they'd located the well so far in the back.

"Come. It is time to consult with the Prince."

They moved through the encampment without pausing, paying little heed to others, unaware one paid full heed to them.

He'd been placed in a cage which hung from a branch. He was tiny, frightened and exceedingly important. He was also determined to change his precarious position.

"Mr. Troll?"

The enormous green beast glanced in his direction.

"Can I have some water?"

He could tell the beast had no wish to aid his desires. It didn't matter. He'd been present when the orders were given.

"You will guard this Elfin with your life! If you fail you die!"

The Troll was his personal bodyguard. A bodyguard who would most likely eat him as soon as his services were no longer required but until that time a bodyguard who would wait on him hand and foot in order to keep on breathing.

"Thank you."

The Troll said nothing. It didn't matter. The act was all he desired. Tweedlewink knew his appearance for what it was; unintimidating. His kind were the worker bees. The others hardly noticed them because they worked to achieve the results. Creatures of one-foot in height were not exactly in a good position to stand out. They watched with curious eyes as those who saw with regal sight went about claiming their superiority and ruining lives in the process. Elfins weren't without fault but they were definitely without arrogance. The Troll who guarded him could not see beyond the physical. He viewed the tiny creature with disdain. He saw only a victim. He was blind and he didn't even know it.

"May I have some bread?"

With every question came the same answer. Nothing verbal but always a response. It didn't matter. The act was all he required.

"Thank you."

All items were tools. They might have been intended for other purposes but they were still instruments of use. The Elfin was merely altering their design. The water was brought in a mug. The mug arrived with a handle and left without. The bread was on a plate. The plate was given whole and returned in pieces, accidently dropped on purpose. He was engineering something different, something more to his liking, something to change perspective. He was designing a picklock tool. It wasn't so hard. He'd done it before.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"I'm going to save a damsel in distress. She's been captured by an evil witch and locked away in a tower."

He was young back then, barely out of childhood and curious about the ways of others. The knight on horseback traveling through the forest was something he couldn't resist.

"Can I come along?"

"No."

He was not good at taking 'no' for an answer so swept through the treetops, following the metal-clad gladiator without notice. They soon arrived at a castle. It was surrounded by a moat. It appeared uninhabited.

"Hey, it doesn't look like anybody's home."

The knight startled because the Elfin announce his thoughts without first announcing his presence.

"You! What are you doing here?"

The question held many overtones. What was anyone really doing? Did the man mean at that moment specifically or in life generally? Tweedlewink was always questioning the meaning of things, it was his curiosity which led the way. So when the knight asked he decided to respond with the truth.

"I'm watching you save a damsel in distress."

The knight was, as all knights were back in those days, kind of a stuffed shirt. He wore body armor which gave him a menacing appearance, was regaled throughout the kingdom as a champion of good and honored as a hero without equal. He was pompous, arrogant and infatuated with himself. He was also a realist. He saw a slight flaw in his plan to save the princess. If he were unsuccessful who would learn of his travails?

"Can you write?"

The question seemed an odd one to Tweedlewink but he'd long ago realized Humans were ever indecipherable so he, again, answered truthfully.

"Yep."

And so he became the scribe. He would be witness and recorder of the knight's actions. He became a little excited because his purpose, suddenly, became a lot more important.

"Okay, I guess the first thing I need to know is your name."

The knight, realizing a name was rather crucial to a tale of heroism acknowledged his birthright.

"I am Sir Loin."

Tweedlewink wasn't sure he heard correctly so asked him to repeat.

"Sir Loin."

The Elfin realized he had a problem so began correcting the mistake.

"Um, is that your whole name?"

Sir Loin, recognizing his namesake had been purloined by butchers, understood he'd never get the recognition he deserved so, again, acquiesced to the Elfin's desire.

"Sir Charles Valiant Loin."

Tweedlewink's ears perked up.

"Valiant?"

"Yes. I know, I know. It's a bit imperious but my mother insisted and my father was somewhat indifferent so..."

"No, no, no. Valiant is perfect."

"You don't think it's a bit much?"

Tweedlewink did not. He saw potential in the name. He could see it all. His name in big bold letters across the cover, announcing to the world his incredible penmanship and dictatorial abilities.

"Look, you're on a quest to save a damsel, correct?"

"Yes."

"Then go big! Use Valiant! Shoot, no one's going to mock you on that one especially if you actually succeed in this death-wish of yours."

The knight's eyes opened a bit wider at the Elfin's statement.

"Death-wish?"

Tweedlewink again responded truthfully.

"Yep, what else would you call it? I mean, come on! A damsel in distress? Who kidnaps a princess and locks her away in a tower? I'll tell you who. Someone waiting for a hero to come along so she can fry him with a lightning bolt. Think about it! She's a ploy! She's bait!"

Valiant appeared to have a few reservations.

"Bait?"

"Uh-huh, bait. She's the worm on the hook, the cheese in the trap, the meat in the pit, the..."

"Okay, okay, I get your examples."

Tweedlewink was happy because normally Humans did not understand Elfin logic. They were always going on about honor and purpose and all those other meaningless words. Elfins didn't have the conception of honor. They were without the idea of purpose. Their reasoning was simple. They enjoyed life itself, not the abstract views of those attempting to dictate it on their own terms. Elfins could never understand Humans and their innate desires to achieve immortality. Except the book part. The one where his name was emblazoned on the hardback. The one which proclaimed 'Written by Tweedlewink, the greatest Elfin Author in the Realm!'. He was daydreaming when Valiant brought him back to reality.

"So you think this is a suicide mission?"

Tweedlewink thought it over before answering.

"Are you planning on killing yourself?"

The knight, somewhat perplexed by the question, answered awkwardly.

"Um, no."

"Then it can't be a suicide mission. Now, it can be a horrendously unsuccessful mission filled with pain and death but it can't be a suicide unless you perform the deed yourself. You see, suicide is defined as..."

While the Elfin explained the difference of definitional description Sir Valiant was rethinking his decision. He'd agreed to the quest because the King had asked. He'd never met the mysterious princess, never heard of a witch who kidnapped royalty but denied a ransom and had become slightly hesitant about performing the service. In fact, the more he thought about it the more he realized the absurdity of the situation. Why send only one knight? Where was the King's army?

"... now, I suppose it is possible to commit suicide using someone else as the triggerman but I believe you'd need to keep them in the dark or else the act would be assisted suicide which is taking quite a bit of license with the word but since I'm not a definitionist..."

While the Elfin prattled along the knight came to a differing opinion.

"Um, you know what?"

Tweedlewink, ever curious about vague questions, answered appropriately.

"What?"

"I believe I'm going to skip this mission. It seems to be fraught with peril and I'm not too sure I wish to save this particular damsel."

The Elfin, even more curious than before, pondered a question of his own.

"What happens if you quit?"

Sir Valiant again rethought. The Elfin was becoming somewhat annoying because he was bringing up consequences before they arrived. What would happen if he decided to forgo rescuing the princess? The answer, of course, was to lose his head when the King found out. He realized his mistake. Once he agreed to the deed he had but two choices; successful princess procurement or death by any number of unimaginable sources.

"Crap."

Tweedlewink, definitional to a fault, asked the correct query while looking at the ground.

"Where?"

Valiant, realizing the little creature took every word literally, re-spoke.

"I meant 'darn'. I think I've gotten myself into something I would rather avoid."

The Elfin nodded his head because he was aware of the Human proclivity to make decisions which were both illogical and quite deadly. He was also aware of something else.

"You don't really have a choice, do you?"

Human action generally resulted in another Human's reaction.

"Nope."

So the two began their quest, Sir Valiant in the lead followed by Tweedlewink, striding along as fast as he could all the while asking questions better left unsaid.

"If you die, who should I contact?"

"Can I have your horse if she turns you into a frog?"

"What do you do if you need to pee?"

The last question actually caused the knight to pause. He was fully clad in metal, a necessary precaution when fighting forces who wielded iron weapons but somewhat unnecessary when dealing with someone dedicated to spell-casting. There was also another reason he stopped.

"Wow, that's an ugly moat!"

Armor didn't float.

The body of water surrounding the castle was not pleasant to view. It was brackish, had a thin film of slime on the surface and smelled atrocious. There was a way to cross, however, a drawbridge for access. Unfortunately it was raised high, unavailable to those on the opposite side, the side they were occupying.

"What now?"

Valiant, not exactly thrilled with the Elfin's company, made a quick decision.

"What are you doing?"

He was removing his armor.

"What are you looking at?"

He was gauging distance.

"What are you...? Hey!"

He picked up the tiny creature, reared back and threw for all he was worth.

"Yaagh!"

Tweedlewink landed with a thud. He was not in a good mood. He could feel the place on his backside where discomfort would last for days.

"What did you do that for?" he yelled.

"Lower the drawbridge!"

And so Tweedlewink finally realized the reason he was tossed over a smelly moat filled with green mush and lord only knew what other disgusting things. He looked toward the bridge and realized another problem.

"How?"

The knight, unaware Elfins never used drawbridges, replied huffily.

"Just turn the wheel!"

Tweedlewink walked over to the contraption and, sure enough, there was a giant wheel which resembled the steering mechanism on a ship. It was large, wooden and five times his height.

"Um, I don't think you thought this all the way through!"

Valiant, for his part, came to the same conclusion. The Elfin was much too small. He had absolutely no way to budge the enormous device. He could do something else, though.

"Watch your head!"

"Watch my head? What the heck does that...? Yaagh!"

The sword landed two feet away, still quivering in the ground where its tip had penetrated.

"Cut the rope!"

The Elfin realized the knight's logic and began following the advice.

"Umph."

"Pull harder!"

Tweedlewink paused for a second to scold the young warrior on proper advising etiquette.

"Pull harder? That's your advice?"

The knight, realizing pulling harder to remove a sword from the ground was rather obvious decided to keep quiet and allow the Elfin to complete the task. The Elfin finally did, cut the rope and the bridge slammed down. The knight walked across and they both looked up because, while they were on the other side of the moat, the castle was still in front of them looming large and appearing inhospitable.

"Now what?"

"Um..."

Tweedlewink waited but when the knight didn't answer further he asked the obvious.

"Um? What kind of plan is 'um'?"

Valiant had never actually rescued a damsel in distress before. He'd been a knight in the King's army, fought long campaigns to rid the land of evil empires and sat at great banquet tables eating roast meats and drinking fruity wines.

"We should look for a door."

The Elfin, realizing entrance observation was an appropriate option quickly found the solution.

"Like that giant gate?"

Valiant, looking where the Elfin pointed acknowledged that, 'yes', a giant gate was exactly what they were looking for. So they walked up and peered through. The gate was metal. It had bars welded together and when lowered the bottom of those bars, sharpened points, entered the ground. It was thick, imposing and impossible for a Human to squeeze through. For an Elfin it was nothing.

"Okay, now that I'm inside what do I do?"

The knight didn't know. They'd never covered palace portal penetration in knight-school.

"Look for an opening mechanism."

"An opening mechanism?"

"Yes."

"What does an opening mechanism look like?"

He didn't have the foggiest. He didn't even know if there was an opening mechanism. For all he knew the witch used some kind of spell to raise the gate. He was coming to the conclusion he'd not properly thought through the difficulties of damsel-rescuing when suddenly things changed.

"I found it!"

The gate lifted as though pulled with unseen hands.

"How did you do that?" he asked after entering the palace grounds.

The Elfin, happy he'd been of service, pointed to the means of operation.

"The boulder there, the one with that rope tied to it, was sitting on a ledge. All I did was pull a lever on the wall which released the wedge holding the boulder in place."

Valiant looked and saw the boulder on the ground with a rope attached. It was grey, round and enormous. He allowed his eyes to follow the rope which ran up the wall, over a pulley and attached to the gate. It was an ingenious system. It also had a flaw. The flaw led to a question.

"How does the boulder get back on the ledge?"

The question was answered when it appeared.

"Me bash!"

The Ogre in the courtyard had emerged through a door. It was large, vicious and horrifying to behold. It stood ten feet tall, held a club in its hand and stomped forward while the two heroes raced backward.

"Uh-oh."

"Eek!"

The knight was not a novice when it came to Ogres, he knew their potential and realized their danger. They weren't the most skilled of foes, they had no need to be, they were strength and power personified, brute force given life, a powerful opponent to all and known to hold no fear.

"Elfin?"

"Yes, Sir Valiant?"

"Stay behind me."

The statement was unnecessary, Tweedlewink was already there, cowering behind the Human who cowered in front of the Ogre. The knight held his sword in front, at the ready, unshaking and strong. The Ogre held his club, a six foot piece of tree trunk, able to deliver death with smashing velocity.

"Sir Valiant?"

"Yes, Elfin?"

"Have you ever fought an Ogre before?"

The answer was both satisfactory and somewhat deflating.

"Yes, but always with others by my side."

Tweedlewink did not think the 'others' included his kind. He was pretty positive his kind reacted differently to Ogre encroachment. He believed in the adage of running away to fight another day. Another day being very far in the future. So far away 'never' was probably the better description.

"What do we do?"

The knight thought long and hard considering the circumstances. His reply was one the Elfin believed held value.

"Run!"

And so they ran. The gate was open so they took its implied message and sped through. The Ogre was right behind them.

"Oh crap!"

"Yikes!"

The bridge was down so they ran across, noticing as they did a strange feeling. The bridge was shuddering. The Ogre was responsible. It was massive and thick, able to crush most things in the realm and proportioned to do so. The bridge was not made for Ogre crossings. It was made for Humans and steeds. While the Ogre was not much heavier than a man on horseback it was different in design; it ran on two legs instead of four. Two legs which held a huge frame. Two legs which did not allow for weight distribution. Two legs which were eating up the distance in rapid time.

"Elfin!"

"What?!"

"Run faster!"

The Elfin could not run faster for his legs were not built for speed. They were built for treetop locomotion. So Tweedlewink was about to reply he was going as fast as his legs would allow when suddenly, without any fanfare, he was lifted and carried in the arms of the warrior sprinting as fast as possible from the beast closing the gap. They arrived at the end of the bridge and leapt the last distance. They leapt because something they knew would occur did so. The bridge collapsed and the Ogre fell into the moat.

"Oh, thank God!"

"Praise the Lord!"

They stood there on the edge, gasping in air as the Ogre splashed in the water. It was a strange scene. It appeared the giant creature was in trouble, almost as if it held not the ability to survive, as though it could not tread the liquid.

"Me need help!"

The knight was slightly taken aback. He'd never heard an Ogre speak more than two words. He believed the beast incapable of forming a third descriptor.

"Me drown!"

He made a decision that day, a decision some would find ignorant and unjustifiable; he decided to give the beast a hand. It was something in the way the creature cried out, almost as though it was aware of its limitations, as though it knew the end was near and did not like the thought.

"What are you doing?"

"Helping the creature."

"Are you insane?"

He didn't know. He was somewhat aware of the dangers involved but couldn't stand by, allowing another to die, if he could easily prevent it so grabbed a large branch and reached it out for the Ogre.

"Give me a hand!"

Tweedlewink did not think so. He was of the mind to allow the moat to do its job and rid the world of overly large individuals who employed bashing in every sentence.

"Come on! Grab my leg so I can get a firmer foundation!"

He couldn't think of a good reason not to. He tried really, really hard but other than Ogre removal he could not find a reason to avoid helping the knight so he grabbed hold of the youthful, but very foolish, warrior's right leg and held steady. It took the Ogre seconds to extricate itself from the water. They then stood there, staring at the beast, wondering who'd be eaten first.

"Me thank you."

The Ogre, it turned out, wasn't really a bad monster. Oh, he'd eaten a few people over the years but no one of any real consequence and he never ate children.

"They too stringy."

He'd been employed by the witch to place the boulder back on its perch which, of course, would close the gate. In return he lived a rather boring lifestyle eating whatever the woman with a broomstick happened to give him that day.

"So there is a witch?"

"Yes, she green."

The witch was a deplorable woman. She was a hag with a problem; she'd been told an adage and wanted to verify its veracity.

"Do inside count?"

The truth was completely superficial.

"So, she stole the princess to do some kind of experiment?" the knight inquired.

It took a while but they eventually learned what took place. The witch was actually the sister of the princess, the daughter of the King. She'd been raised to believe in a certain moral code, one which stated the outside of a person was not as important as the inside. She believed in it wholeheartedly and lived a life of quiet humility. It had not turned out well. She was rebuffed and scorned by all suitors. The princess, on the other hand, was outwardly beautiful but inwardly selfish. She demanded things and pouted when they didn't go her way. She was haughty, rude and completely, unworldly beautiful. She, of course, was never rebuked.

"Witch ugly."

"And the princess?"

"Princess pretty."

The Ogre had a name.

"Olaf."

And a wife.

"Olga."

And he wanted to see her again. He lived in the castle because he owed the witch a favor. She'd saved him from a dragon.

"A dragon?"

"Yes, big lizard."

The dragon had a treasure. Olaf liked treasure and came upon it one day while terrorizing the countryside. He didn't know the gold and jewels were the dragon's but , then again, it wouldn't have made a difference if he did. Ogres liked baubles and the dragon's lair was full of shiny objects. The dragon returned as Olaf was leaving. The sack he carried weighed a ton. The dragon took notice and Olaf took a defensive position. It would've been the end for Olaf if not for one slight detail.

"Dragon tooth bad."

The giant winged reptile had broken a fang on a particularly tough Orc. It wasn't a huge problem for the enormous serpent except for another slight detail which came in very handy for the Ogre; breathing fire was agonizing with chipped enamel. Therefore, what should have been over in seconds actually became quite a battle.

"Me bash dragon."

The two fought for a while, so long it drew the attention of another, one with ulterior motives and empathy for creatures derelict of looks.

"Stop!"

The two beasts who knew no masters looked upon the tiny green woman with surprise. She was skinny, her voice cackled and she carried a stick with straw bound to one end.

"A broom?" Tweedlewink inquired.

"Yes, flying stick."

"Um, I don't think a broom is...?"

The Elfin quit asking the question because the Ogre gave him a look of annoyance. Surprisingly, the look was the same he gave when preparing to devour others so Tweedlewink took the hint, shut his mouth and listened some more.

The skinny green witch, it turned out, did something remarkable.

"Okay, I believe I have a solution. You have a bad tooth..." she began, pointing at the dragon.

"... and you like glittery things..." she said to the Ogre.

"... and I need some help. I propose we all agree to a trade. I'll fix your tooth, the Ogre may keep some of the treasure as payment and he will work for a year until the debt is paid off."

The two enormous adversaries again looked at her like she was crazy.

"Or I can put a spell on the two of you which will cause your eyeballs to rot and your skin to fall off."

They were unsure whether to believe her.

"Don't believe me?"

They were further unsure how she read their minds.

"Fine, here's an example of my power."

The dragon's eyes bulged, the Ogre's skin boiled and, before anyone could begin the process of begging, all agreed her solution showed promise.

"So that's why you're in the castle?"

"Yes."

"Is the witch in the castle?"

"Yes."

"Is the princess in the castle?"

"Yes."

With all bases covered the knight returned to the crux of his problem.

"Well, I still must attempt to rescue the princess or the King will have my head."

So they turned to look at the fortress again. There was still no one visible.

"Where is the princess being held?"

The Ogre lifted his giant hand and pointed to a tower.

"Why are they always in a tower?"

The Ogre didn't know the question was rhetorical, didn't know what rhetorical meant, would've been useless if he did, so shrugged his shoulders.

They then observed another problem.

"The bridge is collapsed."

Tweedlewink, having already performed the service offered his advice.

"No."

Knowing a cowardly answer when he heard one he badgered the knight until the man relented.

"I cannot believe I'm agreeing to this."

And so Olaf the Ogre lifted Sir Valiant in one hand and flung him across the moat.

"Yaagh!"

"Not so fun is it?"

The knight chose not to answer the Elfin because he was waiting for the other to cross. The other who had no idea he'd been chosen to perform the secondary purpose. A secondary purpose he'd whispered in the Ogre's ear before being lifted and tossed over stagnant water.

"Hey! What are you...?"

Throwing tiny creatures was much easier.

"Yaagh!"

And much more enjoyable to the dignity of a youthful knight as he watched the Elfin fly through the air without the greatest of ease because he was still freaking out over getting thrown by the ten-foot brute with a wife named Olga.

Thud!

"Ow!"

And so the two would-be heroes once again found themselves on the correct side of the moat while the Ogre did not. He was on the opposite side, sitting down without a care in the world waiting to see if a knight and Elfin could do what countless others had not and save a spoiled brat from her jealous sister of a witch.

"Okay, I don't think this is such a good idea."

Valiant didn't either but he couldn't think of a better one which involved keeping his head so said nothing and made his way to the tower where the princess was held.

"The door's locked."

It was there Tweedlewink first came up with the idea of reclaimable picklock supplies. He looked around, found a few items he deemed worthy and before Sir Valiant could begin asking what he was doing he walked to the door, inserted the tool and open it sprang.

"Good job!"

"Thank you!"

So they entered the tower, climbed the stairs and finally reached the top.

"It's locked also."

So Tweedlewink again worked his magic and after a minute or so it, too, opened wide to reveal...

"My Heroes!"

... an incredibly attractive woman with more hair than anyone thought possible. She was dressed in a gown of white with flower-patterns sewn on for visual delight. She had blond hair, pink cheeks and the whitest smile in the realm. She was, also, not alone.

"Hello, my pretties."

They didn't know who the green woman was speaking to but, since there was no one else around, they figured it was them.

"Um, hello."

With initial greetings out of the way they got down to business.

"The King hired me to rescue the princess."

The two women looked at each other and smiled wide their delight.

"Oh, he has, has he?"

Neither Elfin nor knight knew how to respond to a question already answered so they waited in silence.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" the pretty princess asked.

There was a pause. It became quite clear the princess was not actually a prisoner. Her legs were not manacled, she wore nothing to hinder her movements and the silly conspiratorial grin she kept giving the witch indicated she was in on the ruse.

"Um... what are we supposed to do?"

"You're to carry me away with courage and honor while my sister attempts to stop you by using any means necessary."

Valiant was not the wisest of men, he held no upper level education and was without a piece of paper signifying he was of the learned. He did, however, have common sense and it was telling him something was very bad with the princess' plan.

"Any means necessary?"

The princess must have caught his hesitation for she became enchanting, alluring and utterly enticing.

"Yes, but I am worth it, as you will see, if you are successful in freeing me."

Now, while it was well known Valiant was an attractive man and had many women in his life it was also true the princess was an exception. She was perfection. She had nary a blemish and smelled of rose pedals and vanilla beans. She had the complexion of a goddess, hair so silky smooth it took stylists a week to groom and the seduction of a siren. She was, in every case, every man's desire. Fortunately not everyman was in the room.

Bonk!

One was an Elfin.

"All right, grab the witch and let's get out of this place."

While it was true a witch was, indeed, a dangerous opponent it didn't mean they were invincible. They took time to cast their spells. Time was not something she had.

Bonk!

So, with the well placed shots of an Elfin with a vase and a knight with a sword-handle, both the King's daughters were knocked unconscious before getting the chance to kill aspiring heroes for one's inflated ego and the other's misplaced anger.

The knight returned home to a hero's welcome, the Elfin returned to the forest and the Ogre returned to Olga who beat him for staying away so long. The incident was pivotal for all because the knight went on to have a remarkable career, the Ogre became more domesticated and the Elfin retained the knowledge of picklock engineering.

"Mr. Troll?"

The beast ,again, only looked at him.

"I need another cup of water."

The Troll strolled away. It did not move fast or with any sense of purpose. It didn't matter. The act was all he required. When the Troll returned he found something different, something altered; a change in perspective. The one he guarded with his life, the one who held the knowledge of explosive discovery was no longer in the cage. Tweedlewink was gone.
Chapter 35: Forbidden Love

Journey and Pursuit (Lazy River)

They fled with great haste, it was needed, the Elvin were on their trail. It didn't take much for the mercenaries to get organized and on the run. It was somewhat different with the Midgings. They'd been enjoying themselves for a while. It had gone to their heads. It led to their throats as they broke out in song.

"Cause weee... are the Midglings... my friends!"

Bum... bum.

"And weee'll... keep on fainting... till the end!"

Bum... bum... bum... bum.

"Weee... are... the Midgings... Weee... are... the Midglings...!"

They were sitting on barstools, mugs raised high, arms over shoulders belting out the favorite tune in all Middlesome.

"No... time... for Humans... 'cause weee... are... the Midglings...!"

Pause for effect.

"Of... the... world!"

The crowd was enjoying their merriment, urging them on with cheers of delight at every chorus line. It reached a crescendo when the two lost their places, both lyrically and situationally. They fell off their perches as they forgot the next line.

"Whoa!"

Thud!

"Ha!"

They were beyond the physical, into the spiritual, drunk on cactus cuisine and communal celebration.

Burp!

"Hey, Stu?"

Belch!

"What?"

Burp!

"I seem to have fallen down!"

Belch!

"Ha! Me too!"

They were halfway to their feet when another found them. Another who was not in the same mood. Another who wished to alter theirs.

"Okay Midglings, it's time to go."

They looked up bleary-eyed and confused. Why? Why did they need to go anywhere? They were having the time of their lives and were not in the right frame of mind for leaving. Stu, therefore, explained the situation accordingly.

"Now you looky here, Mr. Brutus. We are not going anywhere. We are staying right here and finishing our drinks."

The barbarian looked down with confusion.

"But we need to..."

Wort, also in the throes of fermented passion, cut him off.

"We don't need to do anything, Mr. Party-Pooper. We only need to order another round from that nice man with the long beard. Now, where is he?"

The two were almost back on top, placing their tiny tushies on the stools when Brutus decided normal persuasion wasn't going to cut it.

"Midglings" he began mildly.

"What?" they said moodily.

"Boo!"

Flop! Flop!

He scooped them in his arms and made his way to the front of the establishment. Savage and Deadaim were already there, talking to Santa.

"In here you'll find twenty gold pieces. We need a boat and we need it now."

Santa took the bag Savage proffered, looked inside, smiled wide and replied.

"Take whichever one you want."

So they raced outside, took Deadaim's advice on which boat he thought was the most water-worthy and jumped aboard.

"Man the oars while I let loose the sail!"

Their roles reversed on the water as the barbarian, raised on seashore and familiar with its ways, took charge. The fact Savage took no insult and immediately went to work was no longer surprising to his fellow mercenaries for they'd quickly come to realize when it came to the Sergeant power was not an aphrodisiac. He never took charge of anything. It was given to him. Every time. Even by strangers. The reasons were many and widely complex but they all boiled down to one overriding aspect; the man held a presence. Even among Giants he stood out. He didn't use braggadocio or self-inflation to gather others under his shield, he used something greater, something he was born with; a gift from the gods who allowed some to naturally lead.

They rowed away from the shore in the small vessel, Brutus raising the sail as two who were strengthened through combat pulled oars. Two more were in attendance, laid out prone and unmoving as their bodies responded to fright and intoxication with blessed blackness. They'd made their escape but were uncomforted. They knew the others would follow. They were sure in the knowledge. They were right.

He entered without anyone realizing. He was unseen because he wished it so. The place was full, crowded with others who knew not their purpose in life. He remained in the shadows, always watching, ever vigilant. He waited for the one he knew held information. The one he would visit. The one who would talk or die. The night dragged on but he remained neutral, one with the rafters, unviewed by those below. He knew they were gone but didn't know where. They'd found the camels but not the riders. They had altered their passage, changed transportation and he wished to know what it was. The patrons were growing tired, spent from a night of personal pleasure, giving nothing to society, receiving the same in return. The others were also waiting, invisible even to him. He knew they were inside but couldn't detect their presence. Their kind were shadows at night, impossible to verify. He saw the one stir, open a back door and step through. It was time. He moved.

"I was wondering when you'd show up."

The fat man was sitting , smoking a pipe, awaiting his arrival. The room was his personal sanctuary, set apart from the tavern, filled with everyday life. A chair, a table, a glass of water. Slicer took it all in, then asked the question.

"Where are they?"

The man smiled. There was no reason to be mysterious. The man knew they'd be visiting, he'd been forewarned. It would, therefore, be his call whether he lived or died.

"They are not here."

He slowed everything down. His pulse became singular, barely registering a beat. His respirations ceased altogether, his chest no longer rose. It was how he began things, how he confronted others, how he determined the future. The mind and the body were not always in sync. One could find fault if both were not unified. Listening carefully could produce two clues. Both increases. Both registers of falsehood. When the man spoke he listened. The mind was ever wary of the truth. When it was not uttered it became anxious. The anxiety gave everything away. If the man lied he would know it. His heart-rate and breathing would increase. Both were of the body, unaware the mind was troubled but responsive to its worries. The man's reaction proved him truthful. He wondered how long it would last.

"Where have they gone?"

The man swallowed and smiled again.

"I don't know."

A slight intake of breath, not much but an indication not everything was as it seemed. Slicer knew the game and played accordingly. If the man wished to hide behind half-truths he would find the shelter insufficient.

"When did they leave?"

The man appeared to ponder the question. Slicer knew it for what it was; a stall for time. It was always the way of Humans.

"I don't know."

He could hear the man's heart skip a beat, felt the exhalations of air as the man let out what nature provided. He had three answers and the man would provide the fourth.

"Which direction did they travel?"

The eyes said it all.

"I don't know."

With every being the reactions were innate. They could be altered, subverted if one knew the ways but most did not. The man made a mistake, uttered a lie which showed the way.

After the Elvin left Santa heaved a sigh of relief. He wasn't sure but thought he'd made a mistake. He couldn't be positive, because the Elvin were such secretive creatures, but he saw something in the assassin's demeanor which gave him pause. It should have. It was true. He had given all away. He just had no idea how.

"They are not here."

The others listened as one of their kind, their leader, spoke of the facts he'd gathered. The first was easy. The man truly didn't know their whereabouts. His response had been clean and pure.

"They have taken to the water."

The tell was, as always, subconscious. The man knew the truth even if he knew not all. He may not know their precise location but he knew the general one. He'd swallowed. He had a glass of water at his side but refused to do what all others did. He never even glanced at the decanter. He did what he felt appropriate, ignored what he perceived would give away location, instead swallowed his own saliva to wet his throat which had gone dry. The mind was not limited to heart and lungs. It held other reserves. Thirst was one. It was not a fan of fabrication.

"They have recently departed."

The man had given away the information with stalling. It was unnecessary. They already knew their quarry had left recently but the man couldn't help his natural inclination of buying time for those with little.

"They travel north."

Everyone questioned eventually gave responses. They might be fakes or mistruths but they were always there. Generally the first reaction was sufficient. Especially in their eyes. Too many muscles were involved for those receiving the interrogation to alter their true inclinations. When he asked direction the man's retinas spoke the answer. The orbs didn't move. They stayed glued on Slicer. His did not. His changed almost unperceptively. Enough, though, to recognize when they shifted northward the man's retinas widened. Sometimes those questioned were not willing. Sometimes they needed encouragement to show the way.

"Two will cross the river. Two will remain on this side. Three will take a boat. All move north and we will avenge the one we lost."

So the Elvin split up. They were happy to do so. They were unaccustomed to groups, smaller parties more to their liking. Slicer, not afraid but unenthused about water-travel, chose to cross with another, one without a name, one he knew, one he wished to know better.

She moved with grace, as one with the horse as it was the herd. She followed orders instantly, without hesitation, without emotion. She thought herself beyond the ideal, without need, above want. She was wrong.

He watched with sideway glances as they moved along the shoreline, always aware where she was, always infused by her presence. She had never spoken, unable to perform the simple act due to the death of another. He knew of her past, approved of her decision and applauded the strength required to forever sever speech. He saw in her a mate, a partner, a love. He was confused with the thought, worried of the repercussions, distraught with himself for allowing the feeling to exist. He wondered again if she held the answer, if she knew the secret, if she had obtained the truth. If the tongue could remove one action what could be removed to delete another?

The river wound along, always flowing but never rushing. It held no elevation change, was without whitewater, absent rapids. It was impossible to resist, impossible to stop what she wished not to occur. Thoughts were never a pleasant experience. With him by her side they were agony.

He knew the dream impossible, forbidden, unforgivable. It did not matter. He could no longer reside without her by his side. He made a decision, one outlawed by his kind. An assassin with a mate became one with a worry. Any who knew could use one to thwart the other. It had forever been the way; the Guild or the family. Once chosen the marriage was unending, the bond unbreakable, the promise forever intact. The Guild was his family, there could be no other. He would need to choose. Life without her or death with. He decided death was preferable.

She knew of his feelings, it was impossible to miss. She held the same. She'd never known love, never felt its power, amazed by its lure. She could see no alternative, no different path, no detour to use. She knew the law, respected its purpose, understood its need. Theirs was the way of separation, not of uniting. They could take no mate for to do so would alter their thoughts, change their perceptions, decrease their lethality. She did not care. She could no longer deny what the truth provided. When he chose she would agree. It would mean the end, Death herself visiting in Elvin form but she worried naught for life itself was unrelenting and without him she wished no more.

He moved the horse closer, aware she was also aware, intrigued with emotion. They both felt it but neither spoke. They were lost. Two who had no hope of a life together, two who had no wish for a life apart.

She could tell he'd made the decision. She waited with hunger in her eyes, an aching in her chest, a desire she could no longer control.

Each could tell the other knew, each could tell the other responded, each could tell the other their love.

The time was right, he knew it was true. The sky was lit with stars, the moon full with light. She slowed so he could approach. What he was about to do would alter their trajectory, change their purpose, redefine who they were. He was willing. She was ready. Life was not.

The boat appeared. His thoughts changed. Her feelings tempered. They would have a chance again, sometime in the future, the possibility remaining alive. But first they had a mission, a need, a reckoning. They were still of the Guild, had not broken their vows and owed a final deed to a fallen comrade.

He signaled for her to keep pace, she nodded and they followed. They held their mounts further from the shore, sight not as important, their foes located. They would pick the time and place. The others of their kind would also be present, it was only a matter of time before those on the opposite side also found their prey. The plan was simple; attack from two sides, bring death from the rear. They would slow the ship through combat, attacking from the shore so those on water would seek defense. Defense altered speed. The ship would slow and another would gain. The trap would be sprung by the leader when he was positive those on the other side were prepared. He smiled inside. He would find his revenge. He would declare his love. He would kill the others before they could return the favor. He knew they would not live long but he was content. They would, at least, live to love.
Chapter 36: Natural Selection

The Siege (Castle Nirvana, Blight's Encampment)

The nighttime was always their ally. They moved with stealth, silently gliding, fearful of discovery. They had a task to perform, it was highly dangerous, riddled with problems but utterly necessary. If they were unsuccessful all was lost. They listened as she explained her thoughts.

"If they have an Elfin it will be a prisoner. If it's a prisoner it will be one because others are also. Free them and you will free the one."

Hawkeye and Longshot were tasked with one-half the mission. Another had chosen the other. The two would enter the Breathless Forest to ascertain the reason Elfin technology was employed by the Prince's creatures. The one would enter Blight's encampment. He'd made the decision to go alone. She'd reluctantly agreed to allow it.

"You are too important."

"If I do not prevail I will be of no importance."

"Are there no others you can ask?"

"Those who could accomplish the task are needed for the other. I am sorry, My Queen, but if you deny me I will go anyway."

She gazed upon him with eyes of ocean blue, aware of the truth, aware of his intention.

"General?"

"Yes?"

"Promise you will return."

He had not answered because he could not lie. She was his goddess and he her faithful. She was all things and everything. She was his friend, his mentor, his love. He would willingly kill the innocent to spare her life. She was more than he deserved, more than he could imagine, more than he could aspire. She was incredible to behold and graceless beyond measure. She had always been so and would always be. It was both a blessing and a curse. She was forever the object of desire.

"Gaia."

She'd been awakened in the night, still a child, dressed in nightwear, oblivious to her beauty.

"Momma?"

"Yes, honey, hurry and get dressed. We must leave right away."

She became worried because she'd never seen her mother in a state of fright. The hushed whisper an indicator something was very wrong indeed.

"Where's Daddy?"

The sudden stiffness of her mother's reaction would forever haunt her thoughts.

"Daddy is gone, honey. Hurry, we must be on the way."

She would never know how but would later learn why. Her mother didn't speak of the event but rumors were always in the air. He died so she could live free. Another had claimed her. She was barely old enough to read but already breathtaking. The King had noticed. He demanded her presence in court. Her father refused. The price was life.

"Daddy is gone?"

The tear in her mother's eye spoke the truth. An answer confirmed her fears.

"Yes, honey, I am so sorry, Daddy is dead."

They fled that terrible night, that horrible place, two who were innocent of any crime but instrumental in others. Her beauty stemmed from her mother's side, her father always amazed he'd won her heart. Her mother was the kindest creature, without malice and sympathetic to all. Her father worked in the mines, a hard and brutal job which provided for his family so he never complained. They lived a sheltered life, owned a small cabin on the border of a small village. They were happy. The trouble began when the prodigy arrived.

"Twelve pieces of gold."

Her father paid without saying a word. He was aware of the rule. Non-payment was death. Partial payment was disfigurement. The man in front of him, the one with the cruel smile held a particularly troubling reputation. It was said he relished the pain of others. Her father had no wish to challenge the fact. It was over in seconds. The coins changed hands, the man turned to leave and the world changed forever.

"Daddy!"

She ran to his arms with the joy of childhood. She was always gleeful in his presence. He always responded in kind. Except that day, that terrible afternoon, the one where the King's son spotted the most beautiful creature in the realm.

"Hello, and who is this?"

She looked upon the Prince with the eyes of the innocent, he leered back with the eyes of deceit. He was already pondering fortune. Her father noticed. He tried to intervene.

"Gaia, go run along and find your mother. It is about time to start supper."

She left without argument, it was always her way, she could do no other for she loved her father with all her heart. He always responded in kind. He saw the look on the man's face and made a decision; one which would cost him dearly but he saw no other hope.

"My Prince?"

Blight was a young ruler in those days, his father taught the ways of governance by placing him in charge of the taxes. He traveled widely, met his future subjects, killed some, maimed others and gleaned a particular truth; fear was an extremely motivating factor.

"Yes?" he answered with a knowing grin.

The father took a chance, it was a dangerous proposition but he saw no other path so ventured down one less traveled.

"I beg forgiveness, Your Highness, but I have a favor to ask."

"Yes?"

The tale he told was vague. It had to be. Both knew the truth but one wished to change fate.

"My daughter has a sickness."

"Oh? She looked fine to me."

The fable would need to hold veracity but be without verification. His mind thought on the matter and claimed itself the savior.

"Yes, My Prince, she does appear fine but she has the sickness of the brain. She believes in spirits and wanders around in search of ghosts. Her mother and I have discussed the matter and we realize she will never be a proper subject. She can hold down no job and shuns all boys. She is troubled, Your Highness, and we would like to offer our penance now for her future dependency on the crown."

The Prince smiled for he knew fact when he saw it. The child was not sick, she was anything but, she was perhaps the most perfect creature in all the realms. But he had time and was always in favor of favors.

"Penance?"

"Yes, Your Highness, we would like you to accept our payment of ten gold pieces for her insufficiencies."

Blight thought on the matter. He knew the bribe for what it was; payment for silence where the child was concerned. He himself, held no illusions. The child was, indeed, glorious to behold. Her glory, though, would be her undoing. He knew his father could allow no other to hold something so valuable. If he himself claimed the child it would only be temporary. Eventually the King would notice and take her. Therefore, he decided to reap what he could from the unfortunate and desperate.

"She cannot work?"

"No, Your Majesty."

"Then ten pieces it will be."

When the coins were placed in the Prince's grasp the father held out hope the future would pass his daughter by. It didn't. it couldn't. Beauty was ever in the eye of the beholder.

"I beheld a beauty today, My King."

The Troll Toodrake had taken notice.

"I was traveling through a village when I spotted a child you will wish to possess."

The King became interested, demanded the child brought before him, her father refused and paid with his life.

"Where are we going, Momma?"

"I don't know, honey, but we must hurry. Come, grab your things and follow me."

They left with little time to spare. She had been warned by a friend in the village who witnessed the act. Her husband remained defiant till the end but he was no match for six with swords and whips. The soldiers were on their way so escape was necessary. They entered the forest and became hopelessly lost.

"Momma?"

"Yes, honey?"

"I'm hungry."

They were in desperate times for they didn't how to provide for themselves. They were villagers, not foresters, so held no knowledge which would benefit their kind. They were as babes in the woods without protection, babes who never learned to move with stealth, babes who became stalked when others detected their scent.

"Run!"

They raced with all their might, tearing through the underbrush as the pack of wolves gave chase. She never knew fear before that night, never experienced the overwhelming dread when one she loved so deeply was dependent on one who could not provide comfort. She was frantic. Her child, the only light left in her life would die because she could not defend her. They broke through a grove of trees and were met with a wall. A cliff. A mountain of stone which rose to the darkened sky. Stone covered with vines. Vines which could be scaled.

"Gaia, hurry, climb!"

The child did as she was told, she was ever the obedient one, she could do no other for she loved her mother with every fiber of her being. She climbed with desperation, pulling with all her might, aware escape was possible so long as they reached proper height. She was intent on the task so could be forgiven. She didn't notice. She had not glanced behind. Her mother had chosen to make a stand. She would die so another could live.

"Momma!"

She watched with horror as the one who gave her life, forfeited hers so she could survive. She cried out in grief and clung without thought. She was entangled and stricken, emotional with loss. All she loved were gone. She would learn later they bought her life with their own. It was the beginning of her instruction, the first step she would take, the most important lesson she could learn; Nature demanded some die so others might live.

She thought of leaping, giving up what they'd perished to preserve but could find no solace in such a selfish act so chose another route, one more difficult, one to alter everything; she chose to climb.

The top seemed without reach, as though the mountain knew no heights, was indefinite, unending and insurmountable. She didn't care. She held out hope something was at the summit, something she could achieve, something to strive for. The night ended, with the day came light. She glanced skyward, could see no end to her quest and again took vine in hand and trudged upward. She forgot time, forgot place, forgot all except the ones she wished were alive. They were everything to her and she wept uncontrollably on the side of a wall which had no end. Night returned and yet she could not stop. Something beckoned her. Something called to her. Something spoke her name.

"Gaia."

She thought she'd become hallucinatory, hearing words spoken by no one, imagining voices which did not exist. She paid it no heed. It paid her respects.

"Gaia."

The voice was female. She scanned her surroundings, the aerie's nests, the rocky crags, the endless immobile wall. She saw nothing so resumed her trek.

"Gaia."

She could no longer ignore so raised her voice and yelled with all her might.

"What?"

She waited for the reply to a simple response from one who'd gone insane. She almost fell to her death when it replied she was anything but.

"You may rest now. The end is here and you have attained your purpose."

She did not understand the words. The last time she'd lifted her head the mountain remained the same. She believed herself delusional, overwrought with sadness, becoming one of those who lost touch with reality and found others within their own head. She almost fell again when, to her surprise, the cliff ended. She'd reached the top. She was surrounded by clouds. The mountain ran so high birds could not fly. She stood. It spoke.

"Come."

She knew herself to be alone, not a creature within sight.

"Where?"

"Come."

She moved forward and the picture changed, the clouds parted and a castle appeared. She sensed with a certainty the voice emanated from somewhere inside. She was right. It did.

She entered to find a great hall, filled with treasures and adorned with sunlight. In it sat a throne. On the throne sat a figure. A figure she recognized as her own.

"Who are you?"

"I am you, you are me, we are one."

The woman was elegant, clad in white, surrounded by a glow.

"I do not understand."

"You will in time."

The woman stood and beckoned the child forward. Gaia responded and without reservation fell into the other's arms as tears flowed freely.

"I am sorry for your loss. It is never easy on the ones who are chosen."

She wiped her eyes and raised her head.

"Chosen?"

The woman looked down with eyes of aqua and a smile formed on her lips.

"Yes, child, you are the chosen, my replacement; Mother Nature."

She looked upon the woman like she was mad. She believed herself to be dreaming. She wasn't.

"Your replacement?"

"Yes, my time has ended and yours begun. It has been this way from the beginning."

She was confused.

"What has been this way?"

The woman again smiled. The smile was not one of joy but of sorrow. She knew what the child felt. She'd been through it herself as had all her predecessors. Nature was not the gentlest of spirits.

"Your parents died so you could live, Gaia. Mine did the same for me."

With the sentence came a spasm of regret. She would forever remember the sensation.

"Your grief is part of the process. It is necessary. You must come to understand life is dependent upon death."

The words struck her to the core.

"Why?" she cried.

The answer was anything but relieving.

"Because those who will oppose you are the instruments of sorrow, the designers of sadness and the architects of grief. You must know the enemy before you can know yourself. What you have been through many have felt before. The world is harsh, Gaia, and you must recognize your place. You are the giver of life. They are the delivery of death. One cannot exist without the other but it does not mean one side cannot prevail. If those who are against you win, the realms will end and a new order will emerge."

She came to realize things were changing, reshaping, emerging anew. She listened as the woman spoke but felt different inside. She became aware of something else, something uneasy, something unpleasant.

"I don't feel well."

"You are experiencing death. You are one with the living so will encounter the opposite. You are feeling what all do when their time comes; some good, some bad, some unbearably evil. Those who would see you fail are ever devising their ways."

She felt a lessening of the emotion but not an ending. It was always there, always present, a necessary reminder of why she existed.

"Why is this happening to me?"

"Because you are the one. Fate played her part and so did your parents. They gave their lives willingly so you could survive. It is the way with life. We are not infinite. Life is a commodity in short supply and many wish to partake. Those who perish must wait their turn. Some are not as patient as others. There are ways to enter before one's time but it is fraught with peril and always brings disaster. You may meet some. When you do you will know. It will be distasteful but necessary. You are now the protector of life, the sower of seed, the provider of birth. Act wisely, young child, and remember; your body is your temple, your castle, your home. Protect it at all costs. If it is destroyed then they have prevailed and the realms will know the truth."

"What truth?"

The woman paused as if questioning whether to go on. She then made a decision and Gaia understood.

"Life is more perilous than death. It teeters on the edge and is always at risk. If the others win then you will die. When that happens all will die for without birth nothing can survive."

She watched as the woman she would become, became no more. She understood. One life for one death. It had always been the way. She would go when her time came. Aware all things came to an end. Determined it would not happen on her watch.

Another was also of the same mind and more than willing to pay the price.

"Who go there?" it grunted.

He said nothing, stood still as he waited for the beast's brain to do its part. After thirty seconds without a sound the Orc forgot why it was peering into the darkness. He moved ever quieter, ever slower, for he was inside the encampment in search of another, two others in fact, but one more important. Blight was definitely a possibility but he wasn't the golden ring. He could be replaced by another. If the Prince perished the King would not. He would take over where his son failed and they would be back where they started before the year was out. He needed the other, the little one, the Elfin; the one who allowed beasts to bore rock.

He stayed low, ever alert for others. They'd lost track of Blight, even Longshot's reconnaissance showed no sign of the Prince's location. He was aware of his position and moved with a purpose. He believed the Elfin would be found near the devilish deed. The ranks of beasts paid him no heed for they knew not of his presence. At times General Shield was elusive as smoke.

He heard a sound and moved closer to investigate. He was one with the weeds, one with the grass, a creature of the forest. He inched along, imperceptible to all, a shadow on the ground, a creature of the night.

"What?" he heard one hiss.

"It is gone" he heard another answer.

The two in conversation were Trolls; big, nasty green monsters with an appetite for all and a like of none. They were conniving beings, always attempting to attain new heights by bringing others down. They held little creative thought, only mischievous plans, deigning to take what others built without the effort needed to construct themselves. Shield despised the lot. He found them wanting in every category but one; they were exceptional for target practice.

"What do you mean gone?" the larger of the two asked.

"Gone. Not here. Left" the other replied and Shield had a sneaky suspicion he knew who they were speaking of.

He'd snuck far enough into enemy lines for proper surveillance. What he saw both surprised and verified his beliefs; Blight's army was vast, powerful and hopelessly disorganized. Wherever he looked the signs of military preparedness was nowhere to be found. The tents the creatures inhabited were torn, frayed and set in no particular order. There were no sentries posted, no guards roaming the perimeter and as far as he could tell not a single forward observation post. He'd kept an eye out for the early warning location as he infiltrated the camp and had come across nary a sign. They were, if not for their vast numbers, sitting ducks awaiting hunting season.

"How did it escape?"

"I don't know?"

The Trolls, obviously, had lost a prisoner. Or a pet of some kind but Shield thought it an unlikely assumption. Trolls kept pets but only for torture. Their idea of domesticated animals was somewhat different than other's. The actual purpose of the captured creatures was the same; it brought enjoyment to the one who held it. The way they went about obtaining the enjoyment was where the definitions altered. While most every other creature kept a pet because it gave them comfort and unconditional love, Trolls kept them to receive their daily dose of sadistic delights. To be a Troll pet was to live a horrifyingly short life.

"Have you searched?"

"How can I? If the Prince or Commander find out I will lose my head."

Shield believed Hawkeye had been right. He no longer thought Savage was in charge of Blight's army. Savage was a mercenary, true, but he was a professional mercenary. Beheading guards who lost prisoners was the quickest way to lose both in the future. Soldiers would avoid the duty and if they couldn't would quickly learn killing the prisoner drastically reduced escape attempts and thus greatly improved head preservation.

"Show me where it was held."

Shield watched as the two creatures with awful hygiene moved to a cage hung from a tree branch. When he viewed the little suspended jail cell he became aware Councilor Clearview was correct assuming the cause of their problems; the ability to reach the water level through rock was, indeed, an Elfin. No other creature, not even a Midgling, could be kept in such cramped confines.

"What are all those shards?"

"It was very clumsy. It kept breaking the items for water and food."

Shield found himself smiling in the underbrush, laying low so he wouldn't be discovered, thinking of the tiny creature who outwitted with the Trolls. He knew the Elfin and clumsy was not a word he would use to describe their race. Inquisitive, inventive, hard-working were more appropriate. Clumsy would be used to describe what they were not. He slowly backed away and waited. He needed a closer look. He'd found the answer he was looking for but not the actual prize.

It was while waiting he felt something change, a slight shift of the wind, a clue he was no longer alone. He prepared himself for the confrontation. It was not one he wished because it was certain death. Whoever located his hiding place would need only to raise its voice and a thousand creatures, all much larger and wielding various weapons, would converge. He would give a good reckoning, of that he was sure, for he owed her everything but he was also aware of another fact; he alone held no hope against those so numerous.

He slowly shifted, his movement impossible to detect unless already sighted. He removed his dagger, its sharpness honed through countless hours of preparation. He readied his emotions, became calm, relaxed, prepared. He waited for the attack.

Nothing.

He thought maybe he was wrong but knew it wasn't so. He trusted his instincts, they'd never been false and saved his life more times than he could count. He settled his mind and peered into the darkness to see what he knew was there. When it finally came into focus he almost laughed.

He put his finger to lips, signaling quiet and began creeping away. The other nodded its assent and they slowly set off. When they were far enough away he finally spoke.

"Hello, Tweedlewink."

"Hello, General."

He'd known the Elfin for years. They'd met through Mother Nature, the Elfins her main farmers and he, in turn, their main protector. He felt awful when Blight's forces surrounded the castle for he was cut off from those under his protection and prayed they came to no harm. Obviously, he'd been wrong.

"It was you they captured?" he whispered.

"Yes."

Shield glanced around to verify they were safe. They were.

"Come. Let's get back inside the castle. Mother Nature will be pleased to know you're alive."

He began to move then noticed the other did not.

"What's wrong?"

The answer changed everything.

"They have my people. They are prisoners in the forest held by a group of Elvin. They said if I did not cooperate they would kill my kind."

Shield saw the truth and nodded his head. He didn't like the kind of warfare Blight's army imposed but he wasn't so blind he couldn't see the effectiveness of the techniques. He saw a slight problem, though, and queried his consternation.

"Then why did you escape?"

The answer, again, changed everything.

"I didn't. I merely altered perspective. If the Prince wishes to hold my people under threat then I thought his deserved the same."

Shield smiled. He knew. But he still had to ask.

"What did you do?"

"I wired this whole camp to blow. I will still abide by Mother Nature's decree, I will not use explosives in warfare, so long as the Elvin abide by their promise. If they break the pact, though, all bets are off. If they kill my kind, I kill theirs."

With that statement Tweedlewink saw something different fall over the face of the General. He didn't know the precise reason but could tell what he'd said had a profound effect on the man who led Mother Nature's forces. What he didn't know, what he was not privileged to, was the past; namely the General's past. For the words spoken brought back memories best left unsaid, memories which were life-defining, memories which were death-delivering. They weren't the same, exactly, merely phrases close enough to evoke relationship. What Tweedlewink said was reminiscent of what another had written.

You Take My Livelihood, I Take Yours!

"Is everything all right?" the Elfin asked.

The General, uneasy about giving away his inner feeling, responded appropriately.

"Yes, everything's fine. But I need to know what your plans are. Right now we have two, Hawkeye and Longshot, in your forest attempting to free your kind."

Tweedlewink's eyes lit up at the information. He knew the two the General spoke of and thought if anyone could pull off the feat surely those two were in the conversation.

"Well, I've been thinking about that General. You see, the explosives I've planted should do the job of protecting my kind as long as I give them what they want. Now, I know as soon as they've taken the castle we're dead because Mother Nature will be gone and so will the pact. The Elvin will kill us because we'll no longer be useful so I decided to give us a little advantage in the negotiations department."

"What did you do?"

The Elfin smiled.

"Well, sir, I've also rigged their tunnel to collapse."

"The tunnel?"

"Uh-huh. They may consider tunneling not a part of war but I'm not so sure. Since I can't prove it I decided to play along. Since it's not war I'm perfectly within my rights to add some destruction. Anyway, they're going to need me a bit longer than they think if they want to force Mother Nature's hand with that water-pollution thing."

General shield smiled. He had a solution. If they could free the Elfin and Tweedlewink collapse the well they could end their problem. He knew something of Blight's gift. It was powerful, of that there was no doubt, but it was not without limits and one of those was he needed physical proximity to that which he controlled. Without sight, smell, touch, taste or sound Blight was unable to bring his power to bear. His control was over the continuation of disease. If a plant were withering and in his presence it would continue for all time until he allowed it to die. The carcass in the water supply was the same. Unless he could use one of his senses to locate the rotting corpse it was no good. It would decay and eventually run its course allowing the forces of Nature to again receive clean water.

"So you were going to... what? Allow yourself to get captured again?"

"Yes, sir, that was my plan. I was going to reappear and let them put me back in that cage. Then, in about, oh, ten hours from now that tunnel is going to collapse and, once again, they're going to need my services."

"But surely they would suspect you were the reason behind the well collapsing?"

"Yes, sir, true. That's why I set the other explosives. Look, I'm sorry but I had no other option. As long as they hold my kind captive I need to keep them alive. The only way I could think to do so was to stall for time. So I was going to renegotiate the terms. I would reopen the well only after they set my people free. Now, I know they would think I'd set another charge if they agreed to my demands so I thought 'What would I do if I were them?'. I figured they'd agree and watch with a wary eye while I set my charges to reopen the well. With them watching there would be no way I could set new ones to implode it again. So I knew after I was done they would renege on their promise and keep my people hostages. Now, I'm no expert but it seems to me if a bargain is breached then the one doing the breaching cannot be trusted. If they can't be trusted then none of their previous promises hold any validity. If they hold no validity then the previous truces hold no value. Therefore, I set a bunch of explosive reasons for them to keep their end of the bargain. If they don't let my people go, they are going to end up on the receiving end of some pretty powerful responses to false representation."

Shield saw the logic behind the Elfin's reasoning and gave the little guy credit for looking after his charges. The tiny being was in quite the predicament. He and the Elvin were bound by a truce which held so long as Nature reigned. The problem was the Elvin were siding with the opposing faction. It made for an odd situation.

The Elvin, though known primarily as assassins were not defined by the Guild. They held a full society and were known to be vigilant with their promises. Their pact with the Elfin would hold so long as Mother Nature held power. It was the Assassin's Guild which was part of the problem. They'd been hired to fight the very entity which held their hand where the Elfin were concerned. The other part of the problem, Shield believed, was with the Elfin. He didn't want the pact to continue. He felt if the Elvin were fighting against Nature then they already broke the pact and the Elfin were within their rights to blow the dirty, rotten stealth-killers off the planet altogether. His dilemma rose form the very being they issued their pledge to; Mother Gaia Nature. She refused to see his side of the equation. She stubbornly held to the belief if the Elvin did not kill Elfin then they were not in violation of the pact. He pointed out if Blight won, the truce would be void anyway because she would no longer hold sway. She reiterated it didn't matter; if both species held to their words she would not allow either to violate the treaty. It was her insistence which kept Elfin explosives out of the game.

Except, they weren't. They were actually being employed by Blight, using one-half the species of the pact, Elvin, to threaten the other half, Elfins, with pact-violation if they didn't use the very weapons they were forbidden to employ in warfare. The fact the explosives were not used directly in the fighting seemed, to Shield, a splitting of hairs. He really didn't like the position Nature had placed herself in but she held to her beliefs, wouldn't budge, so he was attempting to alter the situation. He saw a problem, though.

"But after your people are free, what then? What about Mother Nature?"

The Elfin looked crestfallen. Shield knew the answer so spared the other.

"Never mind. I understand. You must abide by her earlier ruling and not use explosives in warfare. It's okay, I can comprehend your need to protect your people. I believe I would've done the same if I were in your position."

The Elfin glanced up at the General with gratitude. It really was a hard decision because he was heartbroken over his options

"Thank you, sir. I don't believe a word you say but I thank you anyway."

Tweedlewink knew the General would never have chosen anyone or anything over Gaia Nature. It was the difference between the two. The Elfin knew Mother Nature would accept his decision because the Elfin were of her. Her physical form might die but her immortal form would live on as long as her creations held life. His kind would hide. They would bide their time and survive. It might take generations but eventually Prince Blight's reign, and thus King Rot's, would end. When it happened Nature would return. In another form, of course, but she would return. Shield, on the other hand, loved Gaia Nature herself. He saw not the immortal but the physical embodiment of its design. He would give all, literally all, everyone and everything to protect her. Tweedlewink had seen devotion before but never on the scale the General felt.

"Okay. But things have changed. If we free your kind they will have no hold over you and you can either escape or... " Shield said but then stopped.

"Or I will die. It's okay, sir. I have no wish to aid Blight and will willingly die before I ever help them open that hole again. But I need confirmation they are, in reality, free."

The General saw the truth in the Elfin's eyes. He would die for Nature but would not put his people's lives at risk with hope and belief alone. Hawkeye and Longshot would need to come through.

"Okay. Once I've received word your kind are free I will signal with three flaming arrows. They will be fired in the southern sky and you will know your people are safe."

Tweedlewink would not challenge the General's honesty. He knew Shield would do everything in his power to protect Nature but also knew deception of allies was not in his arsenal.

"Then I shall wait with anticipation, sir. If the arrows are lit then Blight's plan of polluting the water will end."

The General nodded his head and held out his hand. The Elfin grasped it with his tiny paw and the deal was set. He would again take his place in a cage and the General return to the castle. Everything would hinge upon two who were against the Elvin. Elvin who held Elfin. Elvin who were masters of death. The fact Tweedlewink held out hope, promise even, the two would be successful was not because he believed the Elvin inferior. On the contrary. He knew the Elvin for what they were; masters of their craft. The reason he held his belief? The two the Elvin faced were different. They were not masters of their craft, they were beyond the description; they were the definition. As the General turned to leave Tweedlewink felt he should impart a little more information. He wasn't sure it would help but felt the need to inform the great man of what he learned.

"General?"

Shield paused, turned and looked at the brave creature.

"Yes?"

"I don't know if this is important but I believe something is going on in Blight's army which you should be aware."

The General, always interested in his opponent's business, listened intently to what the Elfin said.

"And that is?"

"Blight is now being guarded by the Elvin."

Shield's eyebrows immediately rose. The Elvin were contracts. They were not allies. They held no one's interest above their own and were known never to lie but also never to be trusted. They spoke in vague terms and were ever on the lookout to further Guild interests. If the Prince was guarded by the Elvin then he was taking a large gamble with his future. He knew something else about Blight; the man was ever reliant upon others. Shield was always amazed with how life worked. Generally things remained the same. Generally one's beliefs were correct because the past had proven them so. But every once in a while things changed. What was once fact became fiction. What was once impossible became probable. With Blight in the hands of the Elvin, even if they were only protecting him, things had definitely taken a different turn.

"He allowed himself to be talked into that?"

"Yes. He has a new Commander and I overheard him and an Elvin discuss the Prince. The Elvin asked if Blight were with his people and the Commander said he was."

Shield's mind immediately went to the possibilities. If Blight were under protection of the Elvin then he was under contract with the Guild. The Guild never entered one without leaving open the possibility for change. It was conceivable they could contact the Guild and work out a deal. Maybe they could obtain Blight for the right price? Oh, he knew Mother Nature would never consider such an idea but he wasn't her. They worked for different ideals. She worked for the interests of life. He worked for the interests of her. Sometimes the two came into conflict. It didn't matter. He would do what was necessary and let the chips fall where they may.

"What is the Elvin called?"

He needed a name. It was the way the Guild worked. They Guild Council would agree to a contract but the ranking Elvin in the field would decide how it would be implemented. There were times when an assassination could be manipulated. There were many reports of one individual taking out a contract on another only to find both locked in a room together, swords within reach, because both had hired the Guild to kill the other. The Guild would allow them to fight, allow a winner to prevail, and allow the winner to meet Death herself by assassin steel in order to uphold their ends of both bargains.

"I heard from the Troll he was called Blade."

Shield filed the name away for future consideration.

"And the new Commander?"

Tweedlewink was also aware of life's inconsistencies. He'd just been through a lot himself. One second swinging through the treetops, the next, held captive and forced to work for the enemy of Nature. He'd become aware of another thing also. Sometimes the changes didn't sneak up on someone. Sometimes one could readily perceive when everything one thought, every plan one designed, suddenly changed. Like when one found a magical amulet. Like when one spoke words they thought irrelevant.

"His name is Cutter."

And with that simple statement he saw something he'd never believed possible. A change in one he felt was unalterable; a shift of focus from one resolution to another. He didn't know it, was not privileged to the past, but what he saw was death. Death in the eyes of one who loved life herself. Death in the face of one who'd never reconciled with himself. Death in the very fiber of a man. Death from a man who had no equal. Death to another he vowed to kill. Death to one who had taken his love. Death to avenge his love's loss.

"General, are you okay?"

Death from one with a jade locket around his neck.

"General?"

And the world changed again.
Chapter 37: Marriage Troubles

The Journey (Lazy River)

The Lazy River was exactly as its name implied; a slow moving snake-like body of liquid which meandered through the countryside without ever picking up speed. The ship the mercenaries commandeered was a small sailboat equipped with the necessities to perform its function. It had a wheel for steering, oars for rowing, sails to catch the wind and space below deck where supplies could be stored and sleep obtained. The three mercenaries were up top, the Midglings down below.

"Oh my God!"

"Please, please don't talk so loud."

"I think I'm going to throw up."

"Urp! Oh Lord, me too."

The Midglings had regained consciousness and wished they hadn't.

"Stu?"

"Yes, Wort?"

"Is the world spinning or is it just me?"

"It's not you. The world is definitely spinning and... Urp! Oh God! Not again."

Midgling curiosity had paved the way for Midgling consumption of spiritual intoxication which brought about Midgling mortification as the world shifted side to side in order to bring about Midgling regurgitation.

"Oh, Dear Lord! Is it ever going to end!"

"I'm sure it'll end. There's nothing left in my stomach to... oh God! Get out of the way!"

The two little creatures were learning the difference between their brew and the kind Humans produced. They vowed over and over never to commit the fallacy again.

"Oh, Dear God. I promise I'll never take another sip of that stuff if you'll just... Urp! Oh, you have got to be kidding!"

Both were in the hold, attempting to retain anything they swallowed the day before. It appeared to be a losing experience.

"Please, Lord, I swear on my mother's soul if you stop this I promise I'll never... Urp! Oh crap!"

As two down below prayed for relief, three on top were discussing different matters.

"So, what do you think?"

Sergeant Savage asked both for their thoughts. He always did so and would forever do so for the sole reason he trusted them with his life. They, in turn, trusted him with theirs. It seemed rather appropriate, therefore, to get their opinions on his survival plan.

"I think we're going to get ourselves killed."

"Yep, I was thinking the same thing."

His vision for the future involved ensuring the safety of the two Midglings until they reached Father Time's realm. It held a slight problem in its design.

"Okay, I'm assuming you two are seeing a problem with Mother Mayeye."

"Yep."

"Uh-huh."

Mother Mayeye was not unknown to the three. They had crossed her path before. It had been both pleasant and slightly death defying.

"Look, I can't possibly think she still holds her previous intention."

He waited for their response. He thought his reasoning sound. They thought otherwise.

"She is going to skin you alive."

"Dude, you left her at the altar."

"You know what, Brutus? You should probably keep quiet."

It happened many years before. The three had taken up with Mother Mayeye's forces to oppose vandals from the Land of Lawlessness who raided. The vandals weren't exactly dangerous, they generally pillaged a few homes for small artifacts but the acts continued. Mayeye's forces were unable to put a stop to the vagrants so she held open auditions to find some who could. Savage offered his services. It was a major mistake.

"We've got the job?"

Brutus asked because Deadaim was in the midst of taking money from those who bet against him.

"So, the bet is you can shoot an arrow from a hundred meters away and snuff the flame without touching the candle itself?"

"Yep."

"You're on!"

They were in Mayeye's fortress, actually the city surrounding the castle but since the place had grown so large and the population so vast the perimeter was refortified with a wall around the complexes outside the palace proper. The castle had become a circle within a circle and was seen as impregnable to attack.

"When do we start?"

"As soon as we gather enough men to enter Lawlessness, round up the culprits and persuade them to cease their activities."

Savage and Brutus were talking as Deadaim prepared. The preparation was somewhat discouraging to those who thought he could not perform the deed because it held no rituals at all.

"You ready?"

"Yep."

"You're not going to warm up?"

"Nope."

The trick was actually rather difficult to accomplish even if its success was easy to vocalize. Light the wick, stand a hundred meters away, fire an arrow and extinguish the flame without disturbing the candle. The candle teetered on a pedestal which was anything but secure.

"Ready!"

Pull the string.

"Aim!"

Sight the object.

"Fire!"

Collect the prize.

"Son of a...?"

"How? How is that remotely possible?"

The deed was usually a failure because the contestants performed the task as most people would; hit the wick. The problem was the candle. The base was such that even the most experienced archer would fail because, while they hit the flame without touching the candle, the passage of the projectile was such its air would cause the wax sculpture to fall. The way around it was to place the arrow-head near the flame with enough velocity to cause an air vortex. The initial passage would snuff the flame and with enough force the fuel needed to reignite the wick could not penetrate the void left behind. Both Savage and Brutus had seen Deadaim do it so many times they were immune to other's surprise.

"There is no way that is possible!"'

"Whatever. Pay up."

They were standing around one of the many courtyards dotting the perimeter and were rather enjoying their sudden prosperity. Deadaim made his way over.

"How much did we earn?"

Brutus, in charge of their wages, was actually a little unprepared for the question.

"Huh?"

"The trick. How much did we make?"

Registration dawned on the barbarian's brain and he began counting the amount of gold perfection in archery could obtain from a fraction of a second. Savage, for his part was thinking about how many people they would need in order to satisfy Mother Mayeye's desires for non-vandalism so did not see the man approach.

"I want my money back!"

The sentence got his attention.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I want my money back!"

The ritual was ever the same even if the participants changed.

"No refunds."

Sometimes, though, people were pig-headed in their beliefs.

"The game was rigged! Give my money back or I'll take your head!"

So the game changed.

His eyes took on a new look, his face became stone. His friends noticed.

"Look buddy, you might what to reconsider..."

The man was beyond persuasion. He was a bully and did as he wished. He wasn't a complete fool, though; the barbarian attempting to placate things was enormous but the one he challenged was not.

"Look, I've got no gripe with you. My problem is with that con artist who stole my money!" he said, pointing at Savage.

The fact the deed was done by Deadaim was not lost on everyone in attendance. The man had picked the most unintimidating of the three to exact his vengeance.

"Give me my money or face the consequences!"

Brutus saw the look in Savage's eye. He thought to intervene on life's behalf.

"Dude, seriously, you do not want to do this."

"This is not between us! This is between me and that pipsqueak who stole my money!"

Brutus thought of saying something. Deadaim thought of saying something. Savage did say something.

"Then take it from me."

The two who knew him most knew him best. The man who resembled the mildest was anything but. Both knew the truth. They were the best in their realms. If it came to a fight Brutus would destroy all competitors. When it came to archery Deadaim was a master of deadly precision. They followed Savage because he was something different. The event unfolded before a watching audience. What they witnessed was the reason two who had no equals followed another.

"Please, I am sorry."

The swordplay had been anything but. The first slash was the man's last as Savage systematically carved him up while he was still armed. It was effortless. There wasn't a single space on the other's body which did not show signs of sharpened steel. It was also horrifying to behold. Blood flowed everywhere. Flesh hung as though the man were molting. The spectators had long ago quit cheering for the one they thought the non-aggressor. None had ever seen such a display before, save two, two who knew the truth; Savage tolerated those who perceived themselves more powerful with contempt. Until they challenged. Then he tolerated them naught.

"Sergeant?"

"What?"

"Please stop."

Deadaim asked because he could not do otherwise. Neither could. They knew him for what he was.

"Why?"

The question was valid so Deadaim answered in kind.

"Because he can offer no resistance. To kill him is to murder him."

Those who remained would forever know the truth. No one could match his blade. He was beyond competition, beyond comprehension, an entity of his own. He had toyed with the man.

The struggle was internal. The man was a bully. A breed which was deplorable. Humans without reconciliation. He hated them. Held Mother Nature accountable for their very existence. Why should those born with physical gifts but lacking in social conscious live to torture others for their own sadistic pleasures?

"He will go on to harm others."

"Maybe not. Maybe he will learn."

Savage decided to negate the possibility.

"Mercy!"

He took the man's head with a stroke.

"Then she is too slow. Nature should have taught him already."

He found her wanting. She allowed those with abilities, unearned, to dominate others. He had a problem with her leniency. Unfortunately for some, his problem could readily be solved with a blade.

"You do realize she is not the problem?" Deadaim inquired.

"No? What is her purpose, then? Look around! Everything is for those with power. The weak, the poor, suffer so those who have all can attain more! Is she blind?"

Deadaim did no think so. He was a disciple. Not a practicing one but a disciple nonetheless.

"No, she is not blind! But she is not the reason either. Dang-it man, she is good! Quit placing the evil of others on her shoulders!"

Savage was ready for his friend's accusation.

"Then she is worthless! What good does she do if those who seek power walk around without obstruction?"

The answer was always the same. And always in doubt.

"Because this is not the end! We meet the Maker and must answer!"

His answer, though, was never in doubt.

"Then I will meet the Maker at sword-point. He or she has a lot to answer for."

The three went on to find the vandals, convinced them their ways were wrong and would've received their reward if not for one small problem they, unfortunately, overlooked.

"Halt!"

They halted.

"You are under arrest!"

They looked at the soldier with curiosity.

"You have been banned from Lawlessness!"

And realized their dilemma. They'd somewhat forgotten their previous banishment. It hadn't completely slipped their minds but they felt since they were acting on behalf of Mother Mayeye then they were exempt from Lawlessness' verdict. Apparently they were wrong.

"Seriously?"

"Yes!"

They looked around. There was no one else in sight.

"Who's going to arrest us?"

The soldier of Lawlessness also looked around. He was obviously a little uncomfortable considering the circumstances but regained his composure and spoke the truth.

"Look, I'm just the messenger so don't get foolish. Queen Ann Arch's army is coming from the north. She has a treaty with Mother Mayeye whose forces are approaching from the south. I'm sorry, really I am, because I don't believe you warrant such a response but I've been tasked with a job and I intend to do it."

Savage's mind was already considering the possibilities. They did not appear promising.

"Are you telling me I was employed by one Monarch to solve a problem coming from another rulers' realm and, after I accomplish the task, I'm to be arrested for violating a law in the land responsible for the violation ?"

"Um... Yes."

The prospects were not looking good. While the three were without question the most dangerous men in the realms they were not so great they could defeat an army let alone two. They saw the writing on the wall, dismissed the hired hands they'd brought along, allowed themselves to be arrested and found themselves in a courtroom defended by the most incompetent lawyer on the planet. He was appointed by the judge, a rather boorish man with little in the way of humility.

"All rise! The court is in session."

The room was packed. The infamy of the trio brought out the curious.

"How do the defendants plea?"

Their lawyer, Thomas Threadbare the Third, was fresh out of counselor school and eager to make a name for himself.

"We plead insanity, Your Honor."

The audience sat stunned. The defendants did not.

"What?"

All three looked upon Threadbare with questioning glances. He indicated they should hold their tongues, they sat back down and he continued.

"Your Honor, my clients cannot be held in violation of trespassing on Lawlessness' lands because they were lost."

"Lost?"

"Yes, Your Honor, lost. They were lost of thought which led them to be lost on land which placed them in the position of being lost of freedom. They are therefore, by definition, insane."

The courtroom became abuzz with confusion. They were not the only ones.

"Are you saying because they didn't know where they were, they're to be considered insane?"

The lawyer, happy to be summarized in such a rapid manner, nodded his head.

"We need an oral answer, Counselor ."

Realizing his error, he vocalized.

"Oh, sorry. Yes, Your Honor, the definition of insanity clearly states one has lost touch with reality. Since reality is most clearly observed through the physical, and terrain the most physical manifestation we have on the planet, then because my clients were out of touch with location they should be classified as insane."

The judge, a man not known for many words, upheld his persona.

"Denied."

Threadbare, not known for a quick wit, also reinforced his reputation.

"Huh?"

"Your plea of insanity is denied."

The counselor looked upon the judge with pleading eyes.

"I said denied, Counselor."

He turned to the three with a look of complete bafflement and then turned back around.

"Um... Your Honor?"

"Yes, Counselor?"

"May I have a minute to consult with my clients?"

"Yes, but make it fast."

He huddled them around the defendant's table and told them what he thought.

"Okay, um, I think we're in trouble."

"What?" the three asked as one.

He summed up his thoughts rather abruptly.

"I didn't think we'd lose the insanity ruling. I believe you should probably change your plea to guilty."

The three, not taught in the ways of legal proceedings, asked the obvious.

"What happens if we plead guilty?"

Threadbare, taught but not mastered in the art of legal maneuvering, held up his hand for silence. He then turned to the judge and pondered his query.

"Um... Your Honor?"

"Yes?"

"What's the penalty for trespassing on Lawlessness' lands?"

"Death."

He stiffened with shock, turned back around, knelt down and conferred.

"Um... okay. I don't think pleading guilty is such a good idea."

The three stared back at him with mouths wide open, astonishment on their faces and puzzlement in their eyes.

"Did he say death? Did he just say trespassing was punishable by death?"

Threadbare, never one to mince words responded accordingly.

"Yes."

The three, not ones to take death sitting down, stood.

"The heck with this!"

The guards, aware of the three's status within the mercenary ranks, acted as one and responded with swords.

"Freeze!"

The judge, unaccustomed to weapons drawn in his presence, voiced his displeasure.

"Order!"

And everyone turned to face the man in black robe, funny white wig wielding a hammer of questionable strength.

"Everyone will sit back down this very second!"

When everyone did he amended his orders.

"Everyone except the guards!"

When the sentries returned to their sentry ways the judge proceeded.

"Now, look, while it's true the sentence of death is on the table for trespassing on Lawlessness' lands, as far as I know, it has never been employed. Now, unless Mother Mayeye herself orders me differently, I will most likely be inclined to..."

He stopped because his bailiff appeared behind him and handed over a note. He unfolded, read, looked up with worry, glanced at the defendants, re-folded the note, handed it back to the bailiff and spoke.

"Court is adjourned for one hour. The defendants are to remain in custody."

Everyone wondered what was written on the note. Everyone but three.

"We are so dead."

"She wouldn't."

"Why wouldn't she? We've already done the job and this way she gets off without paying."

Threadbare was not partial to their way of thinking.

"What are you gentlemen talking about?"

Savage, ever the leader, answered the counselor's question.

"Mother Mayeye is going to order the judge to sentence us to death."

The counselor was appalled.

"Surely, she wouldn't!"

His umbrage was tempered by a knock on the door. They were sitting around a table, the three shackled and chained while a guard stood sentry outside. Threadbare opened the door, the guard whispered something in his ear, his eyes opened wide, he stepped out and closed the door behind him.

"Oh crap."

The door opened and two women entered.

"Oh double crap."

One had black hair, the other blonde.

"Hello, Sergeant Savage, I don't believe we've met?"

Savage sat dumbstruck. He'd heard of the blonde's beauty before but never seen it up close. She had a particular allure about her. There were frown lines around her mouth, a stillness in her pose and the air of chilliness about her demeanor.

"Queen Ann Archy?"

It was reported she never smiled. She gave truth to the rumor by nodding her head while keeping a stern outer shell. The one next to her did not.

"Hello, Savage."

The smiling brunette held an odd reputation. She'd never been married although she certainly held the talents. She was slim of figure, dark as ebony with lips the color of blood. It was said she held on to power through secret alliances cemented with coin. As Savage would learn she was a professional in its use.

"Mother Mayeye" he said lowering his head in slight subordination. While he thought she was the reason for their troubles, he held hope he was wrong.

"I believe you're probably wondering why you're here?"

She gazed upon the mercenary as she asked. It was her tell. Another noticed.

"I was wondering about that. But now I know."

Mother Mayeye altered her stare to view the one who'd spoken.

"Oh? What do you know?"

Deadaim looked her squarely in the eye and answered.

"You wish to marry Sergeant Savage. You wish to cement your rule by partnering with one who cannot be challenged."

The shock in her eye revealed the archer to be on target. She vowed to keep an eye on a man who could read others with a glance. She then got down to business.

"Yes, you are correct."

The others in the room had differing reactions.

"What?" said Savage.

"Wow!" said Brutus.

The blonde said nothing. Something was a little off with her expression, she was gazing upon the barbarian as though she knew the man.

"The archer is correct. I need a man to lead my army and ensure my security. Up till now I've been able to provide for myself but if the rumors are true then the time for peace has ended. It is said King Rot is on the move. I do not wish for him to seek my realm. I have been on the lookout for one he would rather not battle. Sergeant, your reputation precedes you. I was fairly certain you were the one but was convinced when you tracked down our little charade of pillagers in such rapid fashion."

Savage was aghast. He didn't even know the woman.

"You can't be serious!"

She looked upon him as a cat does a mouse. Already in her clasp and keenly interested.

"I am deadly serious. And if you wish to avoid the death sentence I would advise you to consider my offer."

Savage looked at the others in the room. The others he counted as friends. The others whose wisdom he relied upon.

"Don't look at me."

"I'm neutral on this one."

And then returned his stare to the woman with raven hair.

"Hold on! Was this all a ruse?"

Obviously it was because she'd already told him so. He actually knew the answer but his mind was reeling and he was looking for a little time. She was not in the mood to give it.

"We will be married this afternoon. After you three have been convicted and sentenced to hang."

The statement brought about the required reactions.

"Huh?"

"What?"

"Come again?"

She smiled. It wasn't their fault. They were men, after all.

"You didn't think I would just take your word for it? That all you had to do was agree to my demands and then run away afterward, did you?"

"Um..."

"Err..."

"Uh..."

She giggled. She thought it was going to be a lot of fun tormenting the man who could not be bested in combat.

"Here's what's going to happen. Queen Ann will attend court and declare her outrage at your infringement upon her sovereign territory. We, of course, will council leniency but she will have no part of it. We will reluctantly relent, the three of you will be sentenced to hang and the audience will be outraged. For some reason they seem to like you. They actually hold the three of you in esteem."

She was walking the room as she spoke. She was quite the commanding figure, so much so, Brutus found himself nodding his head as if agreeing with her declarations.

"Anyway, with the outrage will come a silver lining. I, their gracious Queen, will feign a broken heart for I secretly love Savage and cannot rule over a peoples who put to death one I hold dear. Queen Ann, seeing my plight, will come to the rescue. She will remind everyone that a Monarch, and thus her spouse, holds immunity. Therefore, if Savage were to marry me he would be unable to break the law since he cannot break that which does not affect him."

The logic was so conclusive Brutus was brought to oratory effect.

"That's brilliant."

She smiled.

Deadaim, not as quick to render brilliance a verdict, held a doubt.

"Um, Brutus?"

"Yes?"

"The immunity only applies to royalty. We'll still be dead."

Brutus, after realizing the glass he viewed as half-full was actually upside-down, reworded his earlier comment.

"That plan sucks!"

The young blonde queen in the room smiled. She actually smiled.

"Do not worry, Barbarian Brutus, you will not see the end of the hangman's noose. After Sergeant Savage has agreed to marry Mother Mayeye I will offer, as my present ,the gift of pardon. The two of you will go free and all will bask in the glory of such kind rulers."

Brutus, a little taken back by the young woman's tone, again reworded his previously reworded words.

"Okay, the plan sounds good again."

It did sound good. To Brutus. To Deadaim. To everyone in the room save one. The one who saw his relationship status both increase dramatically with marriage to a monarch and decrease substantially with a vow of monogamy.

"I don't think..."

She revealed how their marriage would work with two sentences.

"Don't think. Just do as I command and your friends will live to see another day."

So the three found themselves back in court, facing the judge.

"I sentence you to death."

And the crowd reacted as planned.

"Boo!"

Which allowed the young blonde ruler to make a remark.

"If Savage marries Mother Mayeye he cannot be put to death."

So the citizens waited with baited breath to see if the hero would pop the question.

"Seriously? I have to propose?"

Which, of course, she made him do because she was enjoying her little game.

"Fine! Will you marry me you conniving witch?"

Which she agreed to do and with it came the pardon.

"I, Queen Ann Archy, do pardon the comrades of Sergeant Savage as my wedding gift."

And the population was pleased. So pleased they stood in line to receive tickets which would be raffled for attendance to the ceremony. The speed with which everything occurred was a blur and before he knew it Savage stood on a dais in the courtyard awaiting the moment when his single life would end and his servitude of marriage begin. He was not in a good mood. He was standing next to Deadaim who was acting as his best man. They were awaiting the arrival of the bride to be. On the stage with them was the judge who had sentenced them to death. He was acting in his official capacity and would preside over the wedding vows. He was smiling wide as the joyous occasion was infectious.

"What if I kill the judge? Can the ceremony take place without him?"'

His smile vanished.

"You can't kill the judge, Sergeant."

"Why not?"

Deadaim knew Savage so responded with the appropriate answer.

"Because he's innocent in this matter."

Savage, realizing the truth, responded as he thought appropriate.

"Crap!"

And the judge's smile returned, although a little less joyously.

The ceremony began with the sound of an organ. It was, to Savage, the most depressing tune he'd ever heard. To everyone else it merely announced the arrival of their ruler, a ruler who'd changed apparel, a ruler who was incredibly seductive.

"Wow!"

Both mercenaries looked up.

"Sorry, I got caught off-guard there."

They forgave the judge his outburst and again watched as Mother Mayeye made her way down the aisle. She was quite attractive and if Savage weren't so opposed to forced companionship he might've felt a bit anxious. As it was he felt trapped.

"Crap, crap, crap."

While Savage was uttering a mildly vulgar word with little meaning Deadaim was scanning the crowd. He caught sight of Brutus who was in conversation with the young, blonde queen of Lawlessness. He was regaling her with some story or another and it appeared she was rapt with fascination. He allowed his eye to wander and focused on a group of men. They appeared out of place. They were also keenly interested in the ruler who was interested in the barbarian.

"Savage?"

"Crap, crap... huh?'"

Deadaim indicated with his head the direction he wished Savage to look, the Sergeant did and came to the same conclusion as the archer.

"Uh-oh."

"Yep."

There were at least ten, probably more in the crowd and they were making their way toward Queen Ann Archy and Brutus, the largest barbarian in all the realms and current fable-teller to the reigning monarch of a land without laws.

"Do you think...?" Savage asked.

"Yep" Deadaim responded.

The act was not exactly new. It had been done on previous occasions for the sole reason it worked. Removing heads of state was a difficult process for one reason; location. While in their palaces or strongholds rulers were virtually impossible to touch. They were surrounded by loyal soldiers who were ever on the alert for malcontents. They knew all the secret passageways and screened anyone who had an audience with their sovereign. It was during special occasions where rulers were vulnerable. They were generally in unfamiliar surroundings, had absolutely no idea who was friend or foe and were guarded by fewer of their own because they were under the protection of the one they were visiting. It made for perfect assassination attempts. Or kidnappings.

"We need to warn them."

"I agree."

So the two did what they felt was necessary; Savage drew his sword and leapt from the stage while Deadaim performed his own unique brand of assassination and kidnapping prevention.

"...so there I was, facing down the raiders from the north when all of a sudden..."

Thunk!

"What the...?"

The arrow at his feet was familiar. The barbarian looked up, caught Deadaim's eye, followed his line of sight to the men approaching and quickly surmised what was going on.

"Queen?"

She was staring with confusion at the arrow which was still quivering in the ground. Her guards hadn't even noticed its arrival.

"Queen!"

She looked up at the mercenary and saw something she'd never seen before; worry for her sake.

"We must move!"

She had no idea what he was talking about. She had no idea men were making their way through the crowd toward her location. She had no idea why but she readily agreed to follow the man she'd only laid eyes upon a few hours before, a man not much into adulthood, a man who had done what she thought impossible; a man who could make her smile.

Things took on a different look. When Savage leapt off the dais those who were not infatuated with their amazingly alluring monarch noticed. It appeared the man had cold feet. Some thought to intervene.

"Hey! Hold on there a minute, pal! Where do you think you're...?"

Then found muteness when he lifted his sword.

"Oh! Never mind."

He raced through the crowd, shoving others out of his way as he made a beeline to the area where Brutus and Queen Ann Archy stood. He met them halfway as they moved toward him.

"Brutus!"

"Sergeant!"

They stood still for a second, unsure of the proper direction to take. It revealed its way a second later as a man attacked from behind.

"For King Rot!"

Slash!

Thud.

"Yuck!"

The sword-stroke was involuntary, a natural response from unknown hours of training.

"Nice one, Sergeant!"

"Thank you. So, uh... which way?"

Brutus, by far the larger of the two indicated a direction Savage was rather reluctant to take.

"Are you sure?"

Brutus, unaware of why his Sergeant would doubt his advice, indicated that 'yes' he was pretty sure the assassins were coming from one direction and they should head in the other.

"Maybe we should just kill all the attackers instead."

The barbarian, unaware of groom jitters, was perplexed.

"There's about fifteen of them!"

Savage, aware of his and his friend's abilities, countered.

"Is that all? Shoot, I bet we could take them out in about..."

Deadaim, arriving to hear the last of the conversation, intervened.

"Let's go!"

And so the three, with the young monarch in tow moved away from the attacking assassins in King Rot's employ to find themselves face to face with the Sergeant's greatest fear.

"What the heck is going on?"

It took but a second to sum up the story.

"King Rot has sent assassins."

And Mother Mayeye was not a happy camper.

"On my wedding day?"

The place was in complete chaos. Everywhere one looked people were running about shrieking in terror. It became plainly obvious the security forces were overwhelmed. Not only were Queen Ann Archy's bodyguards not in view but Mother Mayeye's elite brand of warriors were also in a state of confusion. All looked around blankly as everyone ran for cover.

"My God! I pay them for this?"

Savage, unaccustomed to a ruler who showed little fright, was actually a bit intrigued.

"Are you not afraid?"

Her answer would forever cause him consternation.

"Nope. I find this rather exhilarating."

He smiled. She smiled. Another acted rationally.

"Um, maybe you two could discuss this after we've gotten the women to safety?"

They took Deadaim's advice and ushered the women through the grounds until they came upon the castle proper. A door awaited and Deadaim was rather anxious to see the two inside. Four others were not.

"So? This was exciting!"

"Yes! Yes it was."

The archer, standing with arrow strung, listened as two couples attempted to alternate time.

"I think you're wonderful, Brutus."

"Well, thank you. I think you're pretty nice yourself."

The archer was growing impatient.

"Get inside!"

Absolutely no one paid heed to his warning.

"This doesn't mean the wedding is off."

"Huh...?"

Mother Mayeye's statement gave him an ample opportunity.

"Get the women inside!"

And the two mercenaries who held the fascination of two rulers acquiesced.

"All right, girls, it's time to get to safety."

The women, not accustomed to taking orders but also not accustomed to assassination attempts, acceded to their demands.

"Okay, but when you're done..." the brunette said.

"Fine, but afterwards we'll..." the blonde stated.

The two mercenaries, awestruck by feminine beauty were somewhat ill-prepared for their thoughts. The women entered the safety of the castle and they stood there, a bit perplexed by the exiting comments.

"We've got fifteen guys advancing!"

And then they weren't.

"Sweet!"

"About time!"

And so Deadaim's worries evaporated. He smiled. In the middle of the battle he actually smiled. It was not lost on those they faced.

"Oh crap!"

They moved as though walking through a cornfield. Everywhere they went others were sowed. They were something out of time; Immortals who saw not adversaries but slight pebbles in their path. The two were unstoppable. The one who remained behind their guide. Arrows were employed by their opposition. They met their twin as Deadaim cleared the path for two who were unassailable. They eliminated all others and were in pursuit of the last when reality hit.

"Um, do you two really want to do this?" the archer said as he joined them.

They looked around, confused with bloodlust, unaware one was not.

"Huh?"

"If you kill them all, you'll be free to return."

It took a second for the information to sink in.

"Oh!"

"Uh-oh!"

The two became aware of a truth, a unyielding fact; they were only the masters of their destiny so long as they avoided those who were more intelligent, those with a prettier scent, those who should, but didn't, govern all.

"Let's get out of here."

And so they left. Vowing never to return. Until fate intervened. Proving vows were ever breakable.

"You don't think she still intends to marry me?"

"It's a possibility. It's also a possibility she intends to kill you."

And so the boat sailed along the Lazy River, three up top reminiscing about past events, two down below ridding themselves of everything they held inside while seven Elvin surrounded them, hidden from their eyes, ready to pay back what the Guild demanded.
Chapter 38: Giant Expectations

The Siege (Castle Nirvana)

" _They moved in the shadows, silent as wind, no obstacle in their way. They remained in the dark, off the path, intent on finding their prey. They were in the forest, locating the foe, sent to accomplish a mission. They found them in a grove, eight in all, sitting semi-circle position. Hawkeye raised a hand, pointed to one, Longshot removed an Elvin. They fled through the brush, sure in the knowledge, they'd let the games begin._

He became aware, a subconscious act, occurring before one sees. The birds took flight, the ants underground, the squirrels ran up the trees. He could feel the change, a stir in the air, he knew them no longer alone. He looked around, spotted all his kind, there should be none save their own. Realization dawned, he began to speak, an arrow cut off his chance. The others leapt up, aware at last, Death had entered the dance.

The timer began, the seven split up, they went in search of two. The two stayed hidden, one kept watch, the other awaited his cue. It came with a signal, not very loud, just the soft crunching of sticks. Hawkeye pointed, Longshot fired, and seven were suddenly six. They left in haste, their position known, so decided to depart. They held a thought, the game just begun, and off to a beautiful start.

They remained apart, as was ever their way, silently stalking the others. They kept in contact, through signs and signals, known to them and their brothers. They were of the Guild, taught in the ways, of Death and Her deadly design. They were of the Elvin, a masterful race, descendants of the assassin line. They moved with a purpose, light and lean, their weapons ever at bay. They were all in the game, all of one plan, kill all who dared to play.

One was up high, one down low, the bait was easy to see. All it took, all it needed, was an open glade and a tree. The one stood still, amazingly calm, considering all at stake. The other kept watch, ever aware, they were fighting for Nature's sake. He saw a rustle, a movement of bush, made by something alive. One Elvin raised a bow, as Longshot let go, then six were down to five.

The tension was thick, the air was moist, the Elvin moved as one. They were sure of success, sure of their skill ,would revel in glory won. But first was worry, some serious doubt, the impossible had come to light. The two that they stalked, the two they would kill, had depleted some of their might. It was never imagined, never been thought, their kind could lose the day. They were upset and mad, determined the others, would die a horrible way.

The two were as one, moving with speed, impossible to detect. They came with a plan, unwritten but known, brutal in effect. Destroy the ones, who held the others, innocent beyond a doubt. Those who grew food, those who gave life, those who were ever about. The Elfin were kind, their other half not, separate by war and deed. The two had entered, they fought with a vengeance, and made the Elvin bleed.

They were down to five, but still in charge, their enemy's direction known. They would herd them near, make them suffer, for Elvin lives they'd sown. They still held the numbers, secure in the knowledge, they were Death's disciples at hand. They would capture the two, who dared to challenge, Her right to rule the land. They would take their time, torment the two, delight in pain and gore. They were sure of their strength, ready to fight, when shaft made five to four.

The two took to shelter, not in the trees, but below the mud and seeds. They were one with the muck, one with the water, hidden by moss and weeds. They remained under cover, breathing through reeds, awaiting time to appear. It came without thunder, came without sound, their enemy's steps drew near. The Elvin passed by, they stayed unspotted, completely out of view. They rose together, took deadly aim, and four turned into two.

The two spun around, the game took a turn, as knives and swords came out. It was even of odds, even of number, the outcome completely in doubt. They met in the middle, steel met steel, a deadly sight to be seen. All four were masters, unbeaten in battle, the best there'd ever been. The end came about, quick as a flash, as two admitted defeat. It came not from mouths, or pleading gestures, but heads at two others' feet.

There was nary a cheer, no applause to hear, only one to witness the act. It wouldn't have mattered, they still held a mission, bring back the Elfin intact. They searched the forest, inspired with feeling, infused with victory. They then encountered, a sight to behold, which brought them to one knee. The Elfin were dead, slaughtered en mass, strewn in a single heap. The truth became clear, the game could be won, but the price was ever too steep.

So if you would fight, if you would play, Death's terrible game. Remember the cost, remember the loss, of those too numerous to name. I am the one, the sole who watched, as two came to our aid. I attest to the fact, they held no malice, stayed true to the game they played. But remember this fact, Death doesn't care, and take this humble advice. When playing with Her, she holds all the cards, and rolls ever loaded dice."

All in the room were quiet. The Elfin who read the poem lowered his head and everyone did the same. Hawkeye and Longshot had returned with horrendous news; the Elvin had massacred their long-ago brothers. The only survivor, save Tweedlewink, stood before them; an Elfin named Tweedleword.

"I am so sorry" she said.

Tweedleword, realizing truth when he heard it, broke down in tears.

"It was horrible, Mother. They never stood a chance."

The story came out, bit by bit, as the tiny creature related what he saw. He'd remained hidden, not through fear but because he'd been absent from his tribe. He'd been visiting Lawlessness, ascertaining their needs for vegetables and grain. When he returned he found the forest startling quiet and knew something was wrong. He took to the treetops and viewed the act. It was evil beyond comparison. The Elvin had rounded up the children and demanded all adults become present. They did. It was over minutes later. The Elfin had no defense. They were brutally eliminated without any compassion. Tweedleword sat shocked, unable to comprehend such malice.

"I am so sorry."

Again he wept. In her he saw what others should be; kindness. She offered no comforting words, uttered no nonsense about those being in a better place and for that he was grateful. He had no wish to be consoled, held no thoughts about forgiveness and knew his place in society was set. He would let all others know, yell to the winds if need be for he was the messenger, the only one left to proclaim the truth; evil had to be confronted.

"Mother Nature?"

She turned from the little being she held so much love for and gazed upon the one she loved most.

"Yes, General?"

She could tell he'd changed, something happened which had a profound effect. He was still the man she'd grown to love, the one she held dearest, the one she'd die for. It would be necessary. Her power was love for all, not for one. If she chose him she could not be Nature. If she chose him she would choose her replacement. Her successor would mean her end. It had always been the way; one life for one death. She'd been willing. He was anything but.

"Never!"

She believed if she gave up her identity as Nature she would return in mortal form. She believed she could find him. She believed love could not die. She believed they could live as one.

"But what is life if not to live with the one you love?"

His belief was not as strong.

"If you choose this route I will make a pact with Death herself. I love you as I've loved only one other. I cannot lose you also. If you choose to die I will give my life to Her. I will become everything you oppose, everything you despise and your gesture will be meaningless."

She believed him. He never lied. He couldn't. It was one of the things she adored. So they became a different form of couple; unwed but with a bond which would last even after death. A bond which would grow stronger after life. A bond which was unbreakable, unending and unbearable.

"We need to decide what to do about Tweedlewink."

They had a problem.

"What were your exact words again?"

"Three flaming arrows in the southern sky when we've freed his kind."

The problem was the nuance.

"We will not lie."

"But it is not a lie. We have freed his kind."

The definition of free was the snag.

"Death is not free, General."

"But..."

"No, I am sorry but I will not be party to something which is untrue. The little one believes if he sees the arrows his people are safe. We cannot use his ignorance of the truth to further our own needs. Please, forgive me, I know how you feel and I truly do relish your support but I cannot willingly deceive one who would put his life on the line for me."

General Shield had seen her defiance before. It was one of the things he loved most about her. She would never compromise what others would easily do. She was incapable of subterfuge, without deceit, unerringly good.

"Mother Nature?"

They were interrupted by one of the few who dared.

"Yes, Hawkeye?"

"Councilor Clearview asks for you."

She nodded her head and once again gazed upon the one she loved. She was about to speak but, as always, there was no need. He knew her as he knew no others. She needn't ask what he already accepted.

"Go. I will heed your words and the arrows will not be launched."

She smiled. He smiled. She left. He changed. She forbade the signal from the sky but not from the ground. He made a decision. It had not been hard for him. it was impossible for her. The difference came down to responsibility. Her predecessor, and thus herself by proxy, had made the Elvin and Elfin sign a pact. The Elvin would not kill Elfin and the Elfin would not provide explosives for warfare. The fact the Elvin had obviously broken the pact was the snag. It allowed the Elfin to retaliate. He knew Tweedlewink would. She knew Tweedlewink would. She felt responsible for the outcome. He felt a responsibility also. Both knew the Elfin would ignite the fuse the second he heard his kind were no more. Shield was okay with the deed, Gaia was not. She could not allow another to give up what she held so dear. Life, all life, to her was precious beyond measure. To Shield, not so much. He sought the desired outcome; Mother Nature's continued survival. it didn't matter if came about from victory in battle or an Elfin committing explosive revenge. To him it was the same. To her it wasn't. Therefore, he made a choice. A life for a life. It was ever the way.

She moved through the courtyard with Hawkeye at her elbow. Everyone she passed bowed in her presence. She didn't demand so. They demanded it of themselves. They all had a story. Some sadder than others but all tragedies in their own right. None more so than the Giant. One of the beings in all the realms which had the power of gods but not their need to wield it. They alone stood above all. They alone could subjugate all. They alone knew the dangers of doing so.

She had been sitting, contemplating, thinking. He saw her for the first time and knew his quest for knowledge would wait. She was perfect. A beauty he could not take his eyes off. A beauty he could not resist.

"Hello" she said.

He could only smile. One of the greatest beings on the planet stood tongue-tide.

"My name is Glenda."

He'd never heard a more beautiful name.

"What's yours?"

His mind went blank. He thought for a second he actually could not remember his own moniker. He thought for a second of running away. He thought for a second of dying from embarrassment. He didn't, of course, because he finally recalled what his mother named him, he told her, she smiled and they wound up married the very next day.

"I declare Goliath and Glenda married. Let nothing come between them and their love."

Nothing could.

They were the kindest creatures in the realm. All who met them came away with one realization, one thought above all else; they were perfect for each other. They had a love which transcended all. It was magical, glorious, their greatest asset. It was also their downfall.

"Goliath?"

"Yes, My Love?"

"There is someone who wishes to speak with you."

The man who entered was anything but majestic. He had a bald head, weathered robe, carried a staff in one hand and held a goose in the other.

"Hello, can I help you?"

The man looked up at Goliath, smiled, bowed his head slightly and replied in a rapid fashion.

"I believe so. Yes, sir, I truly believe so."

Goliath gazed down upon the man and became a bit intrigued. It wasn't everyday a wizard appeared at the door. It was obvious the man was a spell-caster of some sort because no one in their right mind would walk around unarmed.

"Um...?"

"Oh! Right! I haven't introduced myself. My name is William Warlock the Fourth. I humbly ask for your help" the man said as he again bowed his head.

"My help?"

"Yes, sir, your help."

"What kind of help?"

"Well..."

It turned out the wizard was in a sort of specialized field.

"Alchemy?"

"Yes, sir, alchemy. I specialize in turning everyday objects into gold."

Goliath looked at the man again and began to wonder if he might be a little daft.

"Um...?"

"Oh! Yeah, right. I'm uh... not wearing any gold right now but don't let my appearance fool you. I'm really quite good at my service and recently became rather lucky in the quest."

Now, while it was true Giants were generally contemplators, they were also gifted with the same insights and generalities of all the humanoid races. One of which was the appreciation of precious metals. Gold, being the most precious of all held quite a bit of intrigue for them. It wasn't the yellow metal itself, per se, but what the commodity could purchase; namely, books. Giants loved books. Couldn't get enough books. Went crazy over them because they held the one thing which Giants admired most; information. Giants were the most contemplative beings on the planet and books gave them their gift of internal thought.

"You're saying you can turn objects into gold?"

The man bobbed his head up and down a few times then stopped.

"Um... well, no. I've gotten pretty close but haven't actually discovered the secret to conversion just yet. But I have recently discovered the art of producksion."

"Producksion?"

"Yes, sir, producksion. You see, I was working in my lab one day when this goose entered. Now, I didn't pay it too much heed since, well, since I thought it was a duck. I was wrong, of course, since obviously she's a goose but by then I'd already coined the phrase. Anyway, I was cooking up a new potion of Insta-gold..."

"Insta-gold?"

"Yes, sir, Insta-gold. It's the name I'm going to use when I finally bring the product to market. It's going to be huge! Well, if I can figure out a few kinks, that is..."

Goliath was becoming a bit more intrigued because the man's enthusiasm was rather infectious.

"So there I was, perfecting my Insta-gold when I got a call from my neighbor. He said he needed help with his fence. You see, some of his cattle had broken loose and he needed me to... you know what? Never mind. It's got absolutely nothing to do with the story except to explain why I was absent when the deed was done."

"The deed?"

"Yes, sir, the deed. You see, while I was away the goose began to play and ended up digesting my Insta-gold. Now, I'm not exactly sure what hand Nature played in all this but it doesn't really matter. I mean, it's not like she shows much interest in the precious coin. So anyway. That's why I'm here."

"Huh?"

"Huh, what?"

"That's why you're here?"

"Uh-huh."

Goliath wasn't only intrigued he was also confused.

"I'm not following you?"

"Oh! Oh right! I forgot to tell you the most important part."

Goliath nodded his head in agreement, the man nodded back and then both stood there. For about ten seconds. Until the Giant helped the man with the story.

"And the most important part was...?"

"Oh! Right! Sorry about that. The most important part is the goose now lays golden eggs."

Goliath looked at the man askew.

"Excuse me?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Did you say golden eggs?"

The man's face lit with a smile.

"Yes, sir, golden eggs. The prettiest golden eggs you've ever laid eyes on."

Now, Giants were generally trusting individuals. Probably because it would be the height of foolishness to lie to one but the idea of a white bird laying precious treasure was stretching incredulity a bit.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, sir."

The way the man punctuated his words led Goliath to believe the man believed he had a goose which laid the precious items but, encountering Humans before, especially the sorcery kind ,had given him trouble in the past so he asked for proof.

"Can it do it now?"

The man glanced at the goose, set it down and began the demonstration.

"Okay, Honkey-Honey, do your stuff."

They then waited. The man waited, the Giant waited. All waited. Until one didn't.

Honk!

The goose screamed out her name, the wizard smiled, lifted the feathered gold-mine and Goliath's eyes almost bulged out of his head.

"Is that...?"

"Yes, sir, that is one-hundred percent gold."

"Can I hold it?"

The man brought the egg over, the goose followed and all stared at the golden product produced by avian technology.

"This is amazing!"

The man bobbed his head up and down to indicate he felt the same way.

"Yes, sir, amazing it is. And, uh, that's kind of where the problem arises."

The change in tone didn't go unnoticed.

"Problem?"

"Yes, sir, the problem. As it turns out some people don't particularly like my newest invention."

"They don't?"

"No, sir, you see..."

The problem was gold-miners. They saw their way of life terminated by a lone winged creature which held the ability to produce herself what others toiled lifetimes to find. Since most had already spent the greater portion of their adulthoods looking for the mysterious metal the idea of working so long and hard for absolutely no purpose held a rather acrid stench.

"So, you need protection."

"Yes, sir! Well, I don't need it myself but Honkey-Honey could sure use some."

The Giant looked at the white being and smiled. The goose appeared to smiled back. Even with a brain the size of an apple, she realized giant smiling-beings were preferred to the others; the ones who seemed to enjoy chasing her with pitchforks. Goliath thought she was cute. She had beady little black eyes, a soft cuddly feathered exterior and an adorable waddle.

"What do I get in return?"

"Well..."

And so the haggling began. They settled on one egg per month. Goliath would guard the gold-laying water-fowl, the Wizard William would provide his Insta-gold for Honkey-Honey's consumption and Glenda would be the recipient of the goose's gift. Goliath presented his wife a new egg every month and she was pleased. So pleased, in fact, she became quite attached to the little creature. So much so, she was forever taking the little down-coated flying machine on daily walks. Walks which drew an interest. Walks which were seen as taunting. Walks which were viewed through wicked lenses.

"We have got to kill that goose!"

"How? It's guarded by two Giants."

So a scheme was hatched. It did not go well.

"Hurry, grab that sucker!"

"It's honking at me!"

"So? It's a bird for crying out loud!"

The goose got away but only because she made so much noise. The Giants, realizing they would forever be on the lookout for Humans with goose-murder in their heads decided to put some space between Honkey-Honey and the gold miners.

"Do you like it?"

"Oh, Goliath, it's lovely."

So Goliath built a house on top of Mount Det. It was the highest point in all the realms. In it they had time to do what Giants did best.

"Which ones did you get?"

"I got _Advanced Theology_ , _Alternative Theory_ , _A Life of Bliss_..."

They read books. They bought as many as they could. They could afford a lot because Honkey-Honey was quite productive. Wizard William had perfected the Insta-gold and the goose was laying three to four eggs a week. Everything was going splendidly. Until it didn't.

"Seriously! We have got to kill that goose!"

"How?"

They decided on stealth. The way to the top was actually quite easy for Goliath and Glenda because they were Giants, after all, which held quite a few advantages; trail-walking was not exactly a difficulty for those who could do the hundred-meter dash in four strides. The problem for the Humans was the path. It was too obvious. Either Giant could spot an approaching figure. They decided on scaling the wall instead. They drew straws to determine who would do the deed.

"Crap!"

"Sorry, Jack, you lose."

So Jack climbed the stalks which grew up the mountainside and finally arrived at his destination. There wasn't much drama. Jack entered the Giants lair, stuffed Honkey-Honey in a bag and fled. It would've been the end if Glenda hadn't become curious. She wondered why her pet was so quiet. She went to discover the reason. She found feathers on the floor. She saw the open window. She found the footsteps leading to the house. She looked out over the mountain and saw the reason for it all. A single man scaling back down with her pet in a bag. She gave chase. She shouldn't have.

"I am so sorry, Goliath."

"Thank you, Mother Nature, your sympathy means a lot."

She had fallen. The one love in his life had trusted too much in the stalks. They'd broken. She died. A downfall of profound proportions. Goliath was outwardly stoic but inwardly livid. It did not go well for the Humans.

"Uh-oh!"

Splat!

"Yaagh!"

Squish!

He crushed all. He became what they feared. He was unstoppable. Everyone he encountered he killed. All who crossed his path became no more. He became what his kind opposed. An aggressor. A bully. A tyrant.

His realm almost lost every Human inhabitant. She put an end to his misery with six words.

"She would be disappointed in you."

He shed a tear. He was, at that time, the uncontested ruler of the realm. Nobody opposed him because no one could. She didn't. She offered her help.

"Come with me."

"Where?"

"To a better place."

So he left. The wizard he never saw again. The poor man had a problem. He was incredibly smart but notoriously forgetful. When the man who stole Honkey-Honey returned he'd been greeted as a hero. The bird, not so much.

"What's for dinner?"

"Pate."

With the goose out of the way the only remaining obstacle to their time-honored tradition of destroying the countryside in search of a metal with little value except scarcity was the Wizard William. It was decided murder was a bit harsh. So they trashed his laboratory and with it the ingredients to Insta-gold. Everything went smoothly. Until the Giant arrived to exact a little payback for his wife's death. And stomped most into mush. Which the lesser creatures feasted upon. Which was viewed as quite appropriate in the feathered community since the Humans resembled very much the last known image of Honkey-Honey. So the wizard gave up his quest for instant gold, the Humans eventually returned after the Giant left with Mother Nature and the geese once again laid only white containers which held their young. Young which the Humans then stole. Young which the Humans fried. Young which the Humans ate with gusto at every morning meal.

"Hello, Goliath."

"Hello, Mother Nature."

The Giant was standing at the well, holding a rope. The rope's other end was in the well.

"Is the Councilor around?"

Goliath smiled. It always amazed people when he did. He was so large, so intimidating, they were always taken aback when he proved he was not the evil kind.

"Yes" he answered.

Mother Nature's eyes grew light. She adored Goliath. He held her in esteem. He didn't need to. His was a race which held no equal. If he wished to end her reign he could do so in an instant. He didn't because he knew what she was. He didn't because he knew what her promise contained. He didn't because without her his hope would die. She was the giver of life. The embodiment of birth. Without her the one idea, the last remaining hope he had would perish. Without her the love of his life could never return. Without her Glenda was truly gone forever.

"Are you going to tell me where he is?" she queried with the hint of a smile.

He smiled back.

"I'll give you three guesses."

She obviously didn't need three. She was Mother Nature, after all.

"He's attached to that rope you're holding, isn't he?"

Goliath grinned.

"Yep."

After getting pulled up the Councilor explained what he was up to.

"I was attempting to locate the exact position the contaminated water is coming from."

The idea had struck him because he realized the nature of the problem. The groundwater fed into the well from a few underground sources. The sources were the rock bed. They were not many but did their purpose. If he could locate which underground bedrock, which natural channel the bad water ran from, he felt they could block it up and rely on the other sources to provide the liquid. His only problem?

"There's too much water in the well."

His solution?

"I need you to grow me the longest bamboo pole in the world."

So Mother Nature did.

"Now what?"

He grinned at the Giant. He'd been aware the enormous being had toyed with him while he was attempting to locate the contamination source. It hadn't been hard. While being lowered he was, every once in a while, jerked upward. It scared him to death.

"Yaagh!"

The Giant would feign apology.

"Sorry about that. I had a twitch."

Clearview, knowing the Giant's ways, believed him not.

"Well don't do it again!"

The Giant would nod, which helped Clearview not for he was twenty feet below ground, suspended upside down, inspecting water quality.

"Did you hear me?"

"Yep."

And then twitched again.

"Yaagh!"

The routine played out until Mother Nature and Hawkeye arrived, Councilor Clearview was pulled from the well, he told what he saw, asked what he wanted, she grew it on the spot and then the Councilor turned to Goliath and answered the question.

"I need you to suck."

And so the greatest siphoning event ever attempted took place within Mother Nature's castle as the Giant Goliath placed his mouth over one end of overgrown bamboo, the other end was placed in the well and he sucked.

Gulp!

Gasp!

"Yuck!"

And swallowed some of the vile liquid. Luckily for all his was a constitution so large it would take a lake to cause him lasting discomfort so he recovered rapidly and before anyone knew it the well was dry.

"Okay, lower me back down."

So Clearview was again lowered and immediately located the problem.

"Okay pull me back up!"

Goliath, realizing he held the upper hand, did as he was asked.

"Yaagh!"

And the Councilor popped out of the well with such speed he flew twenty feet in the air before being plucked to safety by the being who could move mountains.

"That was not funny!"

All thought otherwise.

"What did you learn?"

So he told them.

"The bad water is coming from one branch of bedrock. If we can stop it up or collapse the tunnel we can put an end to the problem."

So a workforce was formed. While most remained on the wall a few began other chores, dirtier chores, much more dangerous chores.

"It's not going to work."

"Why not?"

"Whenever we plug a hole another appears. The rock is too porous. We'll need another way."

So another way began.

"Tweedleword?"

"Yes, Councilor?"

"We need a favor."

And so the Elfin's knowledge of explosives, aided by Gaia Nature providing the supplies was employed. The miniature creature was lowered in the well, he placed the ordinances where he felt proper, was pulled back out and they waited.

"What are we waiting for?"

The answer came from Clearview.

"The solution we're attempting is only temporary. If Blight hears of us using explosives he will quickly surmise the reason. If he does another tunnel will be dug in a different location and we will again be in the same predicament. Eventually he will win. We cannot hold out with the limited supplies of water we've been using."

Tweedleword thought on what he said and brought up a rather obvious observation.

"But if all he needs is more tunnels why didn't he dig them at the beginning?"

"Because his power, while strong, is not all-encompassing. He must remain in sensory contact with the carcass he is using to contaminate the water. Right now, he remains near the first tunnel because he believes we do not have the solution. If he learns we have severed the route, his liquid death follows, he will know his time has been wasted. He will move on to the next and we will again be forced to find another answer. I am afraid he holds the upper hand in this little side battle. He has the supplies. He holds the perimeter. We hold only the castle."

Tweedleword again thought on what he said and again was a little perplexed.

"So, if he can just dig another tunnel, what's the point? You're eventually going to lose."

Councilor Clearview grudgingly smiled. The Elfin was full of questions but he was basing his curiosity on the past.

"Things have changed, my little friend. I am truly sorry for your loss. We wish we could've saved your people. We couldn't but the results are the same. Without your kind Blight cannot bore through rock. He has not the knowledge nor the material to do so."

"But Tweedlewink...?"

At the mention of the name, Clearview's smile faded.

"Yes, he is still a prisoner and if he remains so we will most definitely lose the war."

Tweedleword's eyes widened.

"Then you're going to rescue him?"

The Councilor, understanding the need for honesty to one who'd given so much responded with truth.

"We are going to try, my friend. But I believe you should know one thing. While the beasts are slow of wit those who control them are not. General Shield has learned Blight is being guarded by the Elvin. They will know of Tweedlewink's earlier escape and will take precautions so he is unable to commit the deed again. He indicated to the General his intention to inform Blight's army of the explosives he's planted. It will keep him safe. It was the smart thing to do and if your kind were still alive I believe it might have been successful. As it is..."

With remembrance came pain.

"As it is, with my kind dead, Tweedlewink will exact revenge."

"Yes, I believe he will ignite the fuses."

"But if he's in their midst...?"

"Then he will die and you will be the sole survivor of your tribe. I am so sorry. As I said, we will attempt to rescue him but..."

"You don't think it's possible, do you?"

"No, I believe whoever we send will meet the same fate as your kind. I believe whoever enters Blight's encampment will be embarking on a suicide mission."

As they were talking the others were listening. No one interrupted and Tweedleword understood the meaning.

"I cannot allow you to do that."

All understood his emotions if not the wisdom of the words. Mother Nature responded.

"Little one, we cannot allow you to attempt the mission. While it holds great dangers it is not without hope. If you enter the fray the hope dies with you. You are one of two, the last of your tribe, and while we celebrate your courage we must deny your right for revenge."

The one who spoke he could not deny. She was his sovereign. He was her loyal follower. He accepted her decision and bowed his head in prayer hoping his fellow Elfin could escape. He then asked one further question.

"Who will go?"

The look he received almost broke his heart. Her eyes misted up. Her voice choked. All who knew her knew the truth. She loved them all but she loved one more. She looked upon the tiny being and spoke of what she knew.

"General Shield has already decided to attempt the task. He believes I do not know. He is wrong. Something happened the last time he entered Blight's encampment. It is subtle yet all-compelling. He believes he goes on our behalf. The truth is he goes on another's."

Those in attendance felt her emotion. It wasn't difficult. She shared a bond with all and never hid her feelings. What they were feeling was heartbreak. Heartbreak and pride. Heartbreak for one she loved, one she knew loved her and one who also held feelings for another. Another long since passed. Her pride came from an understanding. A knowing of something vital. Something she could not, would not, wish to change; the undying devotion to a vow which was unbreakable through time.

"The General is going alone?"

"He believes he is. He believes he is entering the field for the last time. He believes he is performing a duty which none can survive. He believes he can find your kind and explode the ordinances. He believes Tweedlewink can escape if he has forewarned knowledge. In fact, we all believe your kind can do so. Most, including the General, do not believe our kind capable of the same. He believes he is giving his life so we might prevail. He is wrong. Two others will follow. He would not allow it so I will not give him the chance. Hawkeye?"

"Yes, Mother?"

"Are you and Longshot ready?"

"Yes, Mother."

"Then it is almost time. Tweedlewink said he would implode the tunnel in ten hours. The time is at hand. We must be precise. When their tunnel collapses we must plug our end at the same time. If Blight hears our explosion all is lost."

So four remained; Nature, Goliath, Clearview and Tweedleword. All awaiting the sound which would signal another, one who was waiting to scale the walls and return to battle, one with vengeance on his mind and dedication in his heart. He knew not two others waited. The wait seemed to last for hours. It was merely minutes.

Boom!

"Now!"

Kaboom!

And four waited to see if Blight's forces detected the second explosion. They didn't. The first part was finished. The second began before the echoes subsided. As Shield prepared he could feel its coldness, a remembrance of one he held dear. He'd made a vow so many years past its meaning should've receded. It hadn't. It was still there. Ever present if not always visible. A jade locket. A symbol of undying love. A symbol of love lost. He went over the wall. Two followed. And Mother Nature prayed her hopes, her love, would survive.
Chapter 39: Horse Sense

Journey and Pursuit (Lazy River)

The water was slow, meandering along without rush, without desire, intent on arriving when it deemed the appropriate time. A morning fog hung over the river. Two on top were still in conversation.

"She's going chop your head off."

"I don't know what you're talking about. It seems to me you've got a pretty large problem yourself."

As Savage and Brutus were discussing whose possible marriage partner was more capable of removing heads Deadaim went down the hold to see if the Midglings were okay.

"Hello, you two, is everything...?"

"Oh God!"

"Not so loud!"

He found them lying on bunks with towels over their eyes moaning and groaning as the ship swayed along.

"Maybe you shouldn't have drunk so much cactus juice?"

"Oh, Dear Lord!"

"Where's that trashcan?"

The fun with Midglings and hangovers was their complete lack of knowledge about the potent brew. Or, more precisely, their insufficient understanding of how many consequences came about from the devilish drink.

"All right, time to wake up!"

He pulled the curtains, uncovering the porthole, allowing the outside world to greet the inside.

"Yaagh, the light!"

"Have mercy!"

The two, suffering the plight of so many others, sunk deeper into their sheets. They were so pathetic Deadaim almost allowed them the silence and solitude they desired. Almost.

"Get up!"

They jumped to their feet, squinting with pain, wondering when the archer had decided torturing Midglings to be a good thing.

"Okay, okay."

"Jeesh, you didn't have to yell."

Of course he had to yell. Everyone yelled. It was the reward for not imbibing the night before.

"Get dressed and get on top!"

He saw them wince, nod agreement and then he left. He did so with a smile because the best was yet to come. He stepped on deck, the two mercenaries still stating their opinions.

"You ran away!"

"So did you!"

"I wasn't engaged!"

"It was a forced engagement!"

Deadaim decided they'd had enough and sought to intervene.

"Are you two through?"

They looked at him questioningly. They actually weren't sure. Savage felt his betrothal was unjust and Brutus felt he hadn't actually entered into a relationship. Deadaim knew the truth.

"If either of those women get their hands on you, neither of you will be single another day."

Both thought to say something. Both thought to argue the point. Both realized the archer was correct so felt a change of subject was a better response. Savage broached the topic first.

"How are the Midglings?"

"Hung-over."

The three mercenaries smiled. It was the way of the warrior. Misery brought on by one's own actions was ever open game.

"Are they on the way up?"

Deadaim looked to Brutus with a gleam in his eye.

"Yep."

Brutus looked back and smiled wide.

"Then I'll start breakfast."

A fire was lit. A rather dangerous thing to do on a wooden boat but all felt it necessary to prove their point. After three minutes the pan was hot. A minute later the ingredients were added. A minute after that the Midglings made their appearance.

"Ow, ow, ow."

"Is the sun brighter than before?"

It was and it wasn't. The mist which would burn off later in the day made the sun appear a bit sunnier. The poor little runts were a wreck. Their clothes hung without proper placement, their eyes were glassed over, red with unrestful sleep and their minds were occupied with the feelings one felt when bodies signaled displeasure with the previous evening's activities.

"I feel terrible."

"Does it have to rock so much?"

The mercenaries, not strangers to the problems associated with next-day ramifications from previous-day unwise decisions almost felt sorry for them. Almost.

"Okay, the food's ready!"

The startling loud shout from the barbarian was, to both Stu and Wort, somewhat unnecessary. But, since he was huge and they were not, both decided to remain mute on the point. Also, they were curious.

"What's for breakfast?"

And their curiosity cost them.

"Fried fish heads!"

The laughter from the mercenaries was, to the Midglings' way of thinking, also unnecessary. They thought giggling while others evacuated their stomachs which had nothing left to give a bit sophomoric. The three others did not.

"Did you see their faces?"

"I can't believe they didn't see that coming!"

After a little time watching the smallish creatures attempt to expel their digestive tracts Savage decided to begin the day.

"All right. Enough with the jokes. Get some bread and water into your systems."

So the Midglings learned a valuable lesson that day. Cactus concoctions were not something to trifle with and mercenary humor left something to be desired.

"Are you two better?"

"A little."

"Kind of."

And the planning process began.

"Okay, we might have a slight problem when we enter Mother Mayeye's realm."

They were curious.

"Why?"

The answer left them more curious.

"Is she ugly?"

"Does she have bad breath?"

The response would reinforce their opinions Humans were a weird breed indeed.

"Nope, she's gorgeous."

So they sat down to learn the ways of the mercenary. It turned out they were a somewhat solitary individual. Now, solitary didn't mean they avoided others, on the contrary; mercenaries were known to hang out in groups and seldom were by themselves. The solitary aspect of mercenary life was reserved solely for one type of individual.

"She wants to marry you?"

The question asked was honestly. The honesty is what annoyed him.

"Of course! Why wouldn't she?"

Now, Midglings weren't the most world-wise of beings. They generally stayed underground in order to stay alive. But when the Sergeant asked they felt truth was better than fiction.

"Um, because you're probably going to be dead pretty soon."

Savage, unaware of his mortality, became mystified.

"Why do you say that?"

The Midglings, not the brightest of creatures but also not complete buffoons, stated their opinions. Stu did the talking, Wort did the nodding.

"Okay, let me get this straight. You're wanted by Prince Blight, you've got Elvin assassins on your trail, you were the acting commander who laid siege to Mother Nature's castle, you're banned from Lawlessness and you ran out on a marriage ceremony between you and a beautiful ruler, that Mother Mayeye lady. Have I got all that right?"

Savage didn't respond. He was considering the words. Brutus didn't. He already knew them to be true.

"Yep."

"Then you're not showing the best judgment in the world. I mean... Come on! Anyone can see your running out of places to go."

Savage didn't like Midgling honesty. He was seriously considering tossing the two overboard when fate, once again, intervened.

"Get down!"

The warning was issued by Deadaim. He'd become aware of something off, something different; the complete lack of sounds from one side of the river. The arrows which penetrated their hull attested to the fact he was correct in following his instincts.

"The Elvin!"

They saw only briefly outlines of them. Two who rode horses. Two who fired from afar. Two who had shelter among the trees to fire some more.

"Man the oars! We need some distance before...!"

"Get down!"

The warning, again, came from Deadaim. He'd become curious. Why would anyone attack from a shoreline when those on the receiving end could easily escape by crossing to the other side? When he looked he found the answer.

Thunk!

Thunk!

Two more. Two others, also on steeds were attacking from the opposing side. They stayed low, took shelter on the deck, safe from the arrows due to the boat's construction. The railing was whole. It provided a three-foot wall. The only problem?

"We're sitting ducks!"

They couldn't man the oars. They would need to rely on wind-speed to make their escape. The wind which was virtually non-existent. The wind which gave the river its name. The wind which was ever absent.

"Deadaim!"

"Yes, Sergeant?"

He knew what Savage would ask. He was reluctant to answer.

"Can you see them?"

The truth was he couldn't. The fog was thick near the waterline, not eliminating eyesight but definitely reducing visibility. He could catch glimpses of them but they were also hidden behind trees, naturally camouflaged and in a much stronger position. The Elvin could move on land. They were trapped in water. It was only a matter of time before the obvious occurred. They came as a pair.

Thunk! Thunk!

Whoosh! Whoosh!

The flaming arrows hit mid-ship, landing on the deck, promising an early termination of voyage. It was snuffed out quickly with a bucket of water, a bucket which would need refilling. A bucket which was easy for Elvin archers to target.

Thunk! Thunk!

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Two more arrows alit with flame arrived from the other side. Brutus took charge.

"Sergeant, pin down those to the left! Deadaim, you take the right! Midglings, pick up that bucket and get it refilled!"

The two smaller creatures were dumbfounded. They'd never been in a situation so extreme. It saved their lives. Their imagination was useless because they had no reference to rely upon. Fainting could come later. The time for action had arrived.

"Wort!"

"What?"

"Grab the rope! I'm throwing it over!"

So the two whose thoughts provoked unconsciousness were saved by the unknown. They couldn't visualize what they had never considered. Stu threw the bucket, Wort held the rope and both hauled with all their might the container filled with life-saving, fire-extinguishing liquid. They put out the flames and a lull ensued. The Elvin were readjusting, racing their horses forward in preparation of continuing the onslaught.

"We're in big trouble here!"

All agreed. The ambush was obvious. The assassins would wait as the boat sailed by, shoot flaming arrows and bide their time. They might get lucky. Even experienced warriors sometimes made mistakes. There was one problem, though.

"Elvin never leave anything to chance!"

The statement was made by Deadaim but the other two mercenaries were of the same thought. The odds were good they could withstand the attack. Merely take shelter from the arrows, provide covering fire and pour liquid on the flames. They knew the Elvin. Had battled beside them. They were missing something. Brutus, having fought sea-battles before, saw the light first.

"Crap! It's a delay! They're going to attack from behind!"

And so their interests shifted. They looked to the rear and spotted their fear. A boat was fast approaching and there was nothing they could do. They would soon be trapped. The ones on the shoreline prevented them from taking up oars as the ones behind closed the gap. Things were looking pretty bleak. They were the best of the realm but even they were not immune from Death's design. If they were not better planners, insufficient at imagining possibilities, she would have the last laugh.

Thunk!

Whoosh!

The assault began again and they were ill-prepared to offer a defense. The ship to the rear had made up ground. Without manning the oars they would get caught in a crossfire. A crossfire from three directions. A crossfire impossible to survive.

"This is not good!"

All looked to Savage. He looked back. His training would never allow for surrender but facts were facts; they were in a boat, unable to increase speed without receiving arrows for their efforts, awaiting the arrival of Elvin on a ship who would sit comfortably at a distance while firing flaming missiles into their vessel. It appeared hopeless. They were outnumbered, outflanked and out of ideas.

"Deadaim!"

"Yes, Sergeant?"

"Any ideas?"

"Nope."

"Brutus?"

"Nope."

So the three who had no equals sat considering their fate.

"Wort?"

"Yes, Stu?"

"Do you keep hearing them shout?"

"Huh? Hear who shout?"

Stu told Wort what he heard so the Midglings sat, not considering their fate, but curious as to an unanswered question. They decided they had not the knowledge so should ask those who did.

"Sergeant Savage?"

Savage, in the middle of returning fire had not the time to answer.

"Mr. Deadaim?"

Deadaim, in the same boat and performing the same service as the Sergeant also declined to responding.

"Mr. Brutus?"

Brutus, not an archer and thus relegated to flaming-arrow removal by tossing them into water whenever the other two provided covering-fire was, at that moment, crouching down to avoid unwanted piercings, so did respond.

"Yes, Midglings?"

The Midglings, appreciative of a captured audience, decided Stu should do the questioning.

"Why do they keep announcing their intentions?"

The barbarian, a little puzzled, responded confusingly.

"Huh?"

Stu, wondering if the mercenary had suddenly lost hearing-ability began screaming.

"Why do they...!"

Savage, two feet away and not in the position to completely ignore the teensy creatures, interrupted.

"Who keeps announcing their intentions?"

Wort, coming to the aid of his friend because Stu was a bit breathless from yelling, clarified.

"Stu thinks he heard the meanies on the shoreline yelling before the attack."

Deadaim, suddenly realizing everyone was paying attention to the Midglings, jumped in.

"The Elvin?"

Stu, having regained his wind after shouting three words, answered.

"Yep, the ones shooting the arrows."

The mercenaries, having shared the same space and having heard nothing, looked upon the Midgling with worry.

"Are you still drunk?"

Stu, after previously undergoing an incredibly long regurgitation process, indicated he most definitely was not.

"Nope, threw everything up."

And so the mercenaries looked at each other. Then they quickly stood, shot off a volley, re-crouched and looked again.

"Do you think?" Savage asked aloud.

"It's a possibility." Deadaim answered.

"What? What do I think? What's a possibility?" Brutus asked with barbarian sincerity.

The two mercenaries of the same mind asked the two Midglings the same question.

"What did you hear?"

Unfortunately, Wort was sitting closer.

"Well, now, I didn't hear anything and I suppose it's possible Stu is imagining fake voices because we've been on a pretty traumatic journey so far and..."

The mercenaries realized their error.

"Not you, Wort!"

Savage decided to specify which Midgling.

"Stu! What did you hear?"

With the messenger decided the information was delivered.

"Before shooting the flaming arrows they yelled 'Fire!'. Now, I know I'm not technically an expert in warfare but it seems to me if you're ambushing someone you probably shouldn't give away the element of surprise by screaming before every attack. It seems quite illogical, so me and Wort were wondering...?"

As Stu went off on a tangent Savage glanced knowingly at Deadaim. Deadaim nodded his head, peeked over the railing and quickly resumed his post.

"It's not out of the question. They're definitely within earshot."

Brutus, still baffled, interrupted.

"What question? Who's within earshot?"

And so Savage explained what he thought.

"It's not an Elvin ordering the assassins to fire."

"It's not?"

Obviously it wasn't. If an Elvin yelled and the Midgling heard then the mercenaries would've also heard. Brutus, though, completely mystified but without any insight asked his question because he merely wanted answers.

"Who is it?"

"It's the horses."

The answer did not satisfy.

"Huh?"

"The voices Stu heard. It wasn't Elvin, it was equine. Whenever the Elvin light their arrows the horses react as all horses do. They neigh in fright at the one thing they fear most; fire."

And the barbarian understood.

"Oh! And because the little one holds Nature's amulet..." Brutus began.

"I can hear horses scream!" Stu yelled.

The problem they had was what to do with the information. It really wasn't difficult to figure out. Except, maybe, for Brutus. And Wort. But they weren't consulted so weren't insulted.

"Midgling?"

"Yes, Sergeant Savage?"

"Tell the horses to run."

And so Stu did. And the horses bolted. Leaving two problems solved temporarily and one remaining. One which was quickly gaining.

"Man the oars! I'm turning the boat!"

One which saw something surprising; their prey altering direction by employing oars. Employment which should've brought a steel-tipped response from their brethren on the shoreline.

"Sergeant Savage?"

"Yes, Midgling?"

"What are we doing?"

Savage pulled an oar with all his might. On the other side Deadaim did the same. The vessel turned as Brutus steered.

"We're attacking."

And the two Midglings looked at each other, eyes fully opened, not with fright but with excitement.

"Ooh, this could get good."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh, I was thinking the same thing."

So the Midglings watched while their boat veered directly toward the other. The space wasn't so far they couldn't register the looks on their opponent's faces.

"They don't look too scared."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh, they look pretty prepared."

The Elvin on the other ship had stowed their oars. Their boat already had momentum and they were readying themselves for the combat to come. As their watercraft closed the gap the mercenaries did the same. The final moments were an incredibly serene picture; two small sailboats silently gliding over the water. Except when one looked closer a problem emerged; they were on a collision course.

"Um, Sergeant Savage?"

"Yes, Midgling?

"Why are we attacking?"

The answer should have been obvious. It probably was to anyone who'd been attacked by numerous forces before but, since they were Midglings, they had no knowledge of numerous forces because all their predators came in singular form. So they were curious.

"We're attacking because we can. Those horses you sent galloping won't keep the other Elvin out of battle for long. We need to even the odds before they return."

So the Midglings learned an important lesson of warfare; the lessening of opposing forces was a good thing.

The separation between the two boats diminished. As it did the anxiety and suspense increased. So much so, Stu and Wort had a hard time waiting.

"Ooh, this is so exciting."

"Uh-huh, exhilarating."

The suspense, though, was also nerve-wracking.

"Um, okay, I'm getting a little nervous."

"Uh-huh, I've got a little anxiety brewing."

And so Midglings, being who Midglings were, decided to do the same thing at the same time; they turned away. Their reasoning was simple. If looking at something caused worry then not looking would eliminate the unwanted feeling. They were completely wrong.

"Oh no."

"Oh my."

The large ship appeared as though it emerged from nowhere. The truth was it had been waiting. Hiding in cove around the next bend of the river.

"Um, Sergeant Savage?" Stu yelled over his shoulder.

"I'm a little busy, Midgling" came the shortened reply as Savage was tightening his tunic in preparation for battle.

The ship behind them was emerging through the fog, cutting the distance in amazing time.

"Um, Mr. Brutus?"

"I'm steering the ship, Midgling."

The barbarian was intent on the Elvin craft in front and never even glanced their way.

"Mr. Deadaim?"

"Not now, Midgling" he replied as he set aside his preferred weapon and unsheathed a scimitar.

The very sinister, very ominous war-craft bearing down on them was looming larger by the second.

Neither Stu nor Wort knew what to do. They were pretty sure an enormous ship coming from behind was an important piece of advice all would want to know but were in a quandary over the timing. It wasn't every day they attacked an Elvin watercraft and could understand the mercenaries' reluctance to take their eyes off the enemy but were also aware of another mitigating factor.

"Are those...?"

"Uh-huh, they definitely are."

When a vessel with a contingent of soldiers, soldiers armed to the teeth with bows and arrows, made a bee-line towards one's location it was probably a good idea to pay them some attention.

"Sergeant Savage!"

Savage, eyeing the Elvin with anticipation almost ignored the annoying little beings. Didn't they understand the dangers they were in? Hadn't they heard of the Elvin? Were they so isolated in their caves they'd forgotten the intensity needed to fight? All those things went through his head when, at that exact same moment, something happened which altered everything.

"Did they...?"

"Why would they...?"

"What the...?"

The Elvin on the boat, a boat no more than twenty yards from theirs and closing fast, suddenly stiffened, pointed and did something unheard of.

"Did they jump overboard?"

They abandoned ship. Right before the battle, the minute before the fight, those with the reputation of never shying from confrontation did what their kind were reportedly unable to do; they fled. Savage was completely perplexed.

"Sergeant!"

He turned to look at the tiny creatures to tell them to keep quiet so he could ponder the actions of the assassins.

"Look, Midglings! Now is not the time...!"

And then reality became clear. The galleon, for it could be nothing else, was the largest ship any save Brutus had encountered. It was slightly mocking in its size. Twenty oars, ten on each side, were employed by sailors safely hidden in the hold below. On top, fifty archers, all with arrows notched and strings taut, aimed their projectiles at the mercenaries in the small sailboat. Everything was eerily quiet. And then it wasn't.

"Stand by to be boarded!"

They stood with hands raised for to do otherwise would've been unwise. The boarding party arrived, the mercenaries shackled and then taken aboard the war-ship. The Midglings were another matter. No one had bracelets small enough for the creatures. The soldier in charge took one look at the diminutive pair and decided they held absolutely no danger so allowed them to remain unbound.

"Golly! This is a big boat!"

"Yep, pretty impressive!"

As the Midglings looked around with awe the three mercenaries were brought before the commanding officer on deck.

"You're under arrest!"

The three glanced at each other. All were tempted to say something snide because it was quite apparent they were under arrest, the shackles one glaringly obvious clue, but didn't because bound hands tended to indicate binding one's mouth from uttering foolish words which could most definitely do them harm. It didn't mean they couldn't utter sensible questions, though.

"On what charge?"

Savage was fairly certain he knew the answer. The men were adorned in her outfits and the ship bore her crest. He was hopeful, though. Maybe it was all a mistake? Maybe the maritime vessel just happened to be in the area and came across their encounter with the Elvin? Maybe they could talk their way out of the trouble? He was querying to find information, to find a solution, to find an answer. It came in two forms. The first, verbally.

"Trespassing and desertion."

The second, visually.

"Wow!"

"Hubba!"

The Midglings, having never encountered the beauty who ran a realm were taken by surprise. She emerged from the cabin, dressed to impress and tantalizing to the eyes. She glanced at them and smiled. They really were adorable little beings. She then returned her stare to the man who stared back.

"Hello, Savage."

"Hello, Mother Mayeye."

All were led inside where they were told of their predicament.

"You didn't really think you could pass through our territory without us becoming aware, did you?"

She asked Savage but another pondered the obvious.

"Who's we?" Deadaim asked.

As if on cue another entered. Another who was pleasing to the orbital nerves.

"Youza!"

"Hubbity, hubbity!"

The Midglings were rapidly figuring out women from far-away places were a delight to behold. She glanced at them and did the remarkable; she grinned. Midglings were ever cute with their responses. She then turned her attention to the one she wished to see.

"Hello, Brutus."

"Hello, Queen Ann Archy."

The blonde and brunette stood with smiles as two of the three mercenaries sat with worried expressions. The other one had an expression of bemusement.

"You had a spy in the Fountain of Youth."

Deadaim said it not as a question but as a statement.

"Of course. I have spies everywhere" the blonde queen replied.

Deadaim nodded. He should've guessed. All should've guessed.

"When did you know?"

She glanced at him curiously. He was intelligent. If, for some reason, her plans for the barbarian fell through she thought the archer a distinct possibility.

"You mean, when did I know you stole the boat?"

He didn't .

"No, when did you know we left Blight's employ?"

He'd already gleaned she had someone inside Santa's tavern. What he wanted to know was whether she had people in other places, more dangerous places, places which might come in handy if future events unfolded as he thought they might.

She smiled. It was becoming commonplace for her.

"We knew you left before you ever reached the Breathtaking Forest."

And his intuition proved true. They'd been watching. Keeping tabs on events which would eventually affect their realms. The two women, the two monarchs, were not fools. They could see the dangers if Blight took control of Nature's realm. What Deadaim wanted to know was what they were willing to do about it. Which side they would choose? He decided to find out.

"The Midglings are on a quest to find Father Time. Queen Mother Nature has entrusted them with a message. We are helping them with the mission."

The information Deadaim revealed was intended to reveal something else. With the revelation he made their allegiance known. It would be up to the women, the two who could decide all, to make a choice. He wished to know their intentions.

"Yes, we thought as much. The Midgling's amulet was noticed by our spies. She would allow none but her messenger to possess such a powerful artifact. We will help but only on one condition" Mother Mayeye responded.

Deadaim then knew. Savage knew. Brutus had an inkling but was ever hopeful he was wrong. The Midglings, of course, had absolutely no idea what was transpiring.

"What? What condition?"

"Yeah, what condition?"

They were so incredibly innocent Deadaim wondered if he should even reveal the truth. He decided they needed to know.

"The battle between Mother Nature and Prince Blight is not as you see it, little ones. King Rot is testing the realm. He wishes to possess all. The siege of Castle Nirvana is merely the opening salvo. Whether victorious or not he will lay claim to more lands. Those lands will need to choose; submit to his rule or face war. All will need to choose sides. The outcome is unknowable because Rot's forces are innumerable. Mother Nature has chosen to oppose his will. She cannot stand alone. She needs allies. Two of whom are in this room as we speak."

The Midglings glanced at the women and they nodded, indicating they were indeed the ones Deadaim was talking about.

"Our lovely Monarchs have indicated they will side with Nature on one condition."

"Yep, we heard that."

"Uh-huh, but what condition?"

And so the crux of the matter came into play.

"Their decision is difficult because it affects all they rule. Their subjects will be at war with creatures of nightmares. All rulers must weigh the consequences when considering such matters. Eventually, though, it always comes down to one thing; how far are they willing to go? Our beautiful sovereigns have decided to throw the question back at Sergeant Savage and Mr. Brutus."

"Huh?"

"I'm not following?"

And so two of the most dangerous men in any realm found themselves confronted with something they had no answer for, something they could not fight, something they had no defense against.

"Marriage, little ones. Mother Mayeye wishes to marry Sergeant Savage and Queen Ann Archy wishes to wed Brutus. It is rather brilliant, if I do say so myself. Our two lads hold both the power of reputation and reverence in the mercenary ranks. If they become betrothed to our lovely ladies then most, if not all mercenaries will choose to side with them against King Rot."

The Midglings finally understood.

"Oh!"

"All right, I've got it now."

And so Deadaim summed up the dilemma.

"So the question is now on our two heroes. The women have indicated their willingness and now ask it of Savage and Brutus; how far are they willing to go?"

So everyone looked to the two who knew no equals, the two who could not be bested in combat, the two who looked like trapped animals seeking escape from a cage with no exit. And the complexities of the game changed again.
Chapter 40: For Love

The Pursuit (Lazy River)

They reunited quickly. It was foreordained. They were always on the lookout for escape routes, rendezvous points, places to assemble if they were separated. The ones who abandoned ship arrived first. They were wet, tired and not in the least amused. No words were spoken for they were unnecessary. All knew what needed done. They set up a perimeter, huddled down and waited. They didn't wait long.

Two more entered warily. They were amongst their own but acted accordingly. Rushing in could be a deadly mistake. Surprising an Elvin-sentry mortal in consequence. They were then five. They again waited for the others, the last two; a pair to make them whole. When they didn't arrive a plan was enacted. Three remained behind, two left in search of two others.

He'd been surprised when the steed bolted. They had everything under control. The ambush set with precision, the outcome a foregone conclusion. Everything was perfect. And then it wasn't. His horse took flight without warning, galloping with incredible speed through the tree-line. He thought of leaping but discounted the option. Wherever he looked nature was present. To jump would involve peril; a broken limb or possible loss of life. He held on and waited for the opportunity. It came with a grove. He was off without effort, one moment mounted, the next afoot, wondering why the creature had spooked, wondering where the other was. He left to find the rendezvous holding an uneasy thought, one he'd never felt before; worried for her safety.

She'd been amazed at the perfection of attack. Everything coordinated and running smoothly, the enemy in a crossfire from opposing shorelines, the reserves moving in from behind to end the debate. Everything was going according to plan. And then it didn't. The beast she rode upon startled, shivered and sprinted. She had no option, she rode without control aware the horse below obeyed something else, something she knew not, something she could not overcome. She did as he'd done. At a clearing she separated herself from the beast, her last view of the creature was its hindquarters as it raced away at breakneck speed. She wondered what had gotten into the mare. She began making her way to the rendezvous. She began thinking of something else. It gave her pause. She wondered if he was okay.

The two sent to locate the others followed a simple direction. They knew which side of the river their brethren were on when the animals went berserk. They followed a straight route. They ventured off the beaten path for they did not wish to encounter others. They were on a mission which hadn't been fulfilled. They would search for the two but not forever. With the setting of the sun a new order would take place, another leader emerge and the quest begun anew. They preferred a full complement, knew their quarry and were without arrogance; the party of Savage was best met with superior numbers at hand.

He was ever aware of his surroundings, always on guard of encountering a foe. He made steady if not impressive progress. He could be forgiven. His mind ever disobeying, ever changing thought without his notice, ever imagining things he wished were real.

She moved through the underbrush without a sound, one with the world, a world she wished to alter. He was forever in her thoughts. She understood more fully the reason for the forbidden; love was indeed a troubling thing. Every part of her was on edge, aware of everything, conscious of only one. She prayed he lived. She was thinking on his vision when something caught her attention, something unseen yet present, something she knew all too well; a presence she wished to know better.

They were silent. Birds took no flight for they knew not they were there. Animals in the underbrush were themselves startled when suddenly, as if out of nothing, two appeared. Intent. Resolute. Unwavering. They scoured everything in their path, left nothing disturbed yet searched for what was. They knew who they were sent to find; their leader and the other, the other who was a master in her own right. Time was running short, the sun sinking lower yet still they pushed on. They knew whom they were up against. They wished to have the best at their side when they met their fate. Slicer and the one with no name were, indeed, two without equal.

He spotted her first. He paused for he sensed something different, something familiar; something pleasant. Every being held a presence, an aroma, a sense of who they were. Hers was ingrained in his mind, etched in his being, a part of who he was and what he wished to become. She came into view not with a flurry but in the abstract. At first unrecognizable through the leaves, indistinguishable from the plants, one with the land; invisible to those who knew not her inner being.

She didn't move. She could feel the attention, knew the gaze upon her yet unaware of its location. She closed her eyes and let the world inside. The fragrance, the sound, the gentle wind. All were recognized, discarded as normal, common, unimportant. Except one. She opened her eyes and saw, for the first time, the reflection of her own wants, the duplication of her own needs in the eyes of one who could not look away.

They were nearly finished. The light almost gone and with it, the search for their kind. They were of the same mind, signaled the end with fingers designed to deliver death. They were about to turn around when they heard it. It wasn't much. A slight disturbance. It was all they needed. They moved closer to investigate.

He couldn't take his eyes off her. She was everything. The look she returned indicated she felt the same. Time stopped. Nature waited. Everything stood still and he did what he desired, what he could not resist, what he wished not to deny.

She watched as he approached, her heart in her throat, her pulse rapid as the hummingbird. Fate had decided their lives for them, of that there could be no doubt, for they were ever drawn to the other. She waited, he appeared, and their world changed forever.

What they witnessed was treason. The two watched as two others, those of their kind, those of their partnership, chose each other. It could not be allowed. The rule was iron clad; join with the Guild and join with no other. There was no alternative. It was the one law unchangeable to all. The one law above all; the Guild was their spouse, their partner, their life. The shocking scene, one assassin embracing another was unsettling to say the least. The fact it was their leader and one without a name was even more startling. It may have been what caused the remarkable.

He heard it first; an intake of breath from one who watched. He knew what it meant. She knew also. They moved as one to counter the knowledge, both drawing weapons with the thought of ending the life of whoever was witness to their crime. It was no use. Whoever it was, however many there were, it didn't matter, they'd gotten away before Slicer or she without a name could act. The deed was done. The game altered again. The two who could not live apart were now bound by their decision. They knew only of two things at that moment, two truths which were as concrete in fact as though written in stone. The first; an Elvin had seen them because none but their kind could remain unseen while seeing all. The second; they were outlaws. Walking dead. Those who challenged the Guild could not live, could not remain alive for to do so was to thwart the very thing which set the assassins apart; they lived solely for Death.
Chapter 41: Pit of Despair

The Siege (Blight's Encampment)

He moved with stealth, aware of the danger, ignoring the thought. He was beyond the point of circumstance, he altered his wishes, changed his desires, deleted his hopes. He was one with death, a mortal with cause, a bearer of final verdict.

"Who go there?"

He answered the beast's question with steel. There was no going back. He had no wish. He wished only to end the game.

He heard the commotion, discovery of the Orc and subsequent rush to encounter the reason for its demise. He didn't care. He was hidden within the weeds, one with the dirt, one with the slime.

He heard them as they moved, three Trolls on the lookout, three he would follow, three to lead the way. The idea was simple because of its purpose. Inform the Elfin, set off the explosives and find the one he would kill. The simplicity was the end-game; there wasn't one. He would not return. He'd settled his mind, chose the outcome and was okay with the decision. If he could give his life for her he could think of no better ending. He was calmed with the thought.

"Anything?"

He heard one of the Trolls ask.

"Nothing."

An Orc replied and he kept pace, always low, always hidden, always aware he was entering the last phase of his life. The Trolls moved with a purpose, stopping at every watch-point to question the sentries.

"There is an invader within our midst, keep a careful watch for the intruder."

He knew their tactics because they were always the same. The lesser beasts, those with limited intellect were the gatekeepers, the guards, the dispensable. He didn't want them. He was after others, two who ranked higher; one a prisoner, one his captor.

The hunt lasted for over an hour as the Trolls made their rounds, informed the sentries and moved on. He followed without being seen, ever present but always invisible. At times he lost track, unable to follow without revealing himself. He waited. Time passed. He moved. He caught sight of them again and took solace in the fact they appeared unaware, unknowledgeable, unknowing they were leading him to his wish. They were ever the simplest of creatures.

Two others followed. They took a different route for they knew his destination. They would not enter the encampment proper because she had forbidden the idea. They knew why. To enter meant death. The interior would be alive with the ones who could not be avoided, the ones who led others who could; the ones in charge of Blight's army. They were aware the General was on a suicide mission. They believed it possible he could reach his quarry and inform the Elfin. They knew it impossible for him to return. They were attempting to alter the probabilities. They were attempting to change inevitability. They were hopeful they could provide the slightest chance to effect a different outcome. They moved up high and took positions. They waited. They watched. They prayed for his survival.

He was deep in the encampment. Everywhere he looked the enemy could be spotted. He moved through the larger brutes and was within the smaller ranks, the smarter ranks, the deadlier ranks. He followed the Trolls till they led him through the exterior, into the interior, into the devil's nest itself. The danger was the same but the odds had changed. Where before chaos reigned the opposite held true; order was employed and it made infiltration a much harder process. He waited as the Trolls moved. He almost lost sight again but was afforded a chance, a lucky break, a sentry asleep at his post. He moved within a hairs breath of the mercenary, aware if the man woke he would die.

They viewed the encampment and wondered if he lived. The mass of beings made it impossible to identify individuals. They were heartened by the fact no uproar emerged, no shouts of triumph as a trophy of great import was lifted high for all to see, a trophy which would spell the end of a great man, a mighty warrior, a lover of Nature herself.

He couldn't move. He was in a tent, a small lean-too abandoned for the moment by whoever called it home. All around him others moved. He could see boots in every direction, heard voices tinged with curiosity at the event which unfolded earlier.

"I heard the Elfin set explosives and the tunnel collapsed."

"Yep, took some Orcs with it."

The General smiled. Tweedlewink's plan had begun. He needed the Elfin's location, though, for it was instrumental to his desires. He had to inform the little being of the truth. He then hoped the other would understand the implications and act accordingly. He had two missions; both personal but one with greater consequence.

"So, that little Elfin double-crossed Commander Cutter?"

"Yep, it looks that way. Cutter's pretty upset, he's got that Elfin locked in a cage overhanging the pit so he won't do it again."

So he had his location but was unable to do anything. If he moved he would be noticed. If he were noticed he would die. He was a master swordsman but so were many others in Blight's employ. If he were seen it would be for the last time.

The two up high knew they were not to enter the encampment to help their general but it didn't mean they couldn't assist from afar. They didn't know precisely where the Elfin was held but they knew for a fact where he was held not.

"You ready?"

"Yep."

"All right, let's have some fun."

The creatures surrounding Castle Nirvana were doing what all creatures did when night fell; they were sitting around talking. For Ogres, the sentences consisted of rather short subject matters.

"Feet hurt!"

"Me hungry!"

Thunk!

"Oleg dead!"

The confusion on the beasts' faces was understandable. They were not the most brilliant of beings so could be forgiven if they knew not why one of their kind suddenly sported a wooden shaft through his right eye.

Thunk!

The second arrow, though, did the trick and with the demise of Ogre Omar the intended response was achieved.

Roar!

"Wow! They really get riled up, don't they?"

"Yep, let's see if we can involve the Orcs now."

The beasts in the front were in full outrage mode. Unfortunately, they had no idea who to be outraged with so the two archers decided they'd give them a target for their pent up aggression.

"What Ogres' roaring about?" an Orc inquired.

"Me don't know?"

Thunk!

"Oh! Now me know!"

And so the Orcs went berserk. They too had no idea where the projectile had originated which was exactly what the archers wanted.

"Let's move them together."

"Okay."

So arrows were fired into the front of the Ogres which caused them to back up. Then arrows were shot into the rear of the Orcs which caused them to move forward.

"This should get interesting real soon."

"Yep."

And when the two creatures without love for the other met, the result was rather predictable.

"Me bash!"

"Me stab!"

With the desired outcome achieved the two archers moved along. They had an idea of the approximate location where the Elfin would be held; toward the rear. Since the General was attempting to locate the tiny being they decided to find a nice vantage point to hopefully aid in his quest and maybe, just maybe, help him survive.

He was tired of waiting, impatient and unrestive. It was not the optimum mindset for one who would need stealth to accomplish the job. He told his mind to quiet, slowed his breathing, his heart-rate and sought the inner peace he desired. It was somewhat successful. He began to wonder if the mercenaries in Blight's employ would ever move. He'd been waiting for a sign, a small sliver of time where he could slide out from the shelter and find Tweedlewink. He needed only a moment to deliver the message. He prayed he would get the chance. His prayers were answered.

"What the...?"

"Oh, for crying out loud!"

The cacophony of noise drew everyone's attention. The beasts were in such an uproar Shield thought maybe Mother Nature's forces were attacking. He discounted the idea as it arose. The reason? He knew she knew. His presence would be missed almost immediately. She was anything but a fool and would surmise exactly his intentions. He knew it as he knew his own heart. He knew it as he knew his own soul. He knew it as he knew he loved her with both.

"Let's go see what the commotion's about."

"Man, I hate this army."

"Tell me about it."

So Shield found his reprieve. He slid under the tent and was soon lost in the grass. He had a direction, a point of reference for the one he sought. He had two missions but one came first. The one which was for her. The one he would willingly die to accomplish even if it meant he could not achieve the other. It took another hour to traverse the distance. When he finally found the exact location of the little creature he suppressed a laugh because he first heard the Elfin before actually viewing him.

"You let me out of this cage right now you stinky, slimy Troll!"

He shifted some blades of grass and witnessed the itsy-bitsy, irate little-person berating a beast. A beast he knew only too well. Over the years he'd come across Toodrake so many times he felt a sort of symbiotic relationship with the ugly creature. It seemed every time a loathsome monarch attacked either Mother Nature or one of her allies it would be Toodrake who commanded the beasts. Shield didn't particularly mind because, while intelligent for a Troll, Toodrake was lacking in what all his kind lacked; imagination.

"You be quiet."

"Oh, yeah? What if I don't? What are you going to do about it, you big smelly...!"

Shield again almost smiled. He could imagine the conflicting emotions boiling inside the Troll's head. He could easily guess Toodrake's desire to eat the little Elfin but also surmised another fact; Tweedlewink was more important to Blight's conquest than the Troll. Toodrake was, thus, in a rather odd position. Guard the Elfin but under no circumstances let it come to harm. As he watched the Troll receive unabashed venom from the tiny Elfin another figure appeared. It was one he had never seen before but was etched into his memory for all time. A description from a gambler he beheaded. A gambler who held his love's locket. A gambler who had described the man approaching with amazing clarity.

"Toodrake!"

The Troll turned.

"Yes, Commander Cutter?"

Shield stiffened at the name. He saw the reason for his love's demise. He felt the burning bile of hatred surge from the pit of his stomach. His vision turned red. His muscles clenched. His mind became consumed with one thought, one overriding emotion; kill. He readied himself, unsheathed his sword and prepared for the rush. He crouched. He tensed. And then fate intervened.

"Commander Cutter!"

Blight strode into the picture.

The quarry they were standing in was barren of everything. It was nothing but dirt and rock surrounded by growth. In the middle was the tunnel. A tunnel which was full of rubble. Rubble caused by the explosion which collapsed the hole. An explosion created by the being trapped in a cage suspended over the tunnel by a rope. A rope which wound over a beam eructed over the pit. A rope secured with a stake hammered into the ground.

"Yes, Your Highness?"

Shield watched as the man he hoped to kill bowed in the presence of the ruler who dared challenge Mother Nature. A ruler who was the only heir to King Rot. A ruler who was guarded by four Elvin. Elvin who were not known as bodyguards. Elvin who were known as assassins.

"What has happened to the tunnel?"

Shield watched as his enemies spoke.

"The Elfin set an explosive, Your Highness, which collapsed the tunnel. Please, do not worry though, for we will have it open before the sun sets tomorrow."

The Prince's eyes went immediately to the tiny creature in the cage.

Tweedlewink stared back with defiance. Shield worried for a second he would speak of the other explosives. He hoped he had not already done so. He believed the Elfin would act as he would; not reveal what was unnecessary until it became so. Tweedlewink was still needed for the tunnel's excavation. It was Elfin knowledge of explosives which gave him the upper hand. The problem?

"Why is it still alive?"

Any Elfin could do the job.

Shield then knew. The Prince didn't know the other Elfin were dead. By the look on Toodrake's face the Troll was also unaware. The answer from the Human, though, was anything but in the dark.

"We need him."

The Prince didn't think so.

"No we don't. Kill him and bring in another."

A look passed between the Human and an Elvin, the one off to the side, the one who appeared to be in charge of the others.

"No" Cutter replied.

A silence ensued. And then it was broken.

"No? You dare say 'no' to me?"

The reaction of the others proved Shield's thoughts correct. The Troll stiffened and turned to look at Cutter. Cutter responded with a smile. The Elvin responded by drawing their swords. Blight responded with shock because it was not toward the Human they turned their weapons.

"What is the meaning of this?"

And then the Elvin spoke.

"It is for your protection, Your Highness. We will not allow you to threaten your... rather unique position."

It was obvious Blight had no idea what the Elvin spoke of. It was also obvious the Troll himself held no clue. The others, though, all the others knew what was transpiring.

"They're taking your army you stupid imbecile!"

Tweedlewink summed it up rather appropriately. After his little outburst the eyes of Prince Blight opened wide with surprise. So did another's. Another who had a particular interest in the events unfolding. Events which, if not altered, held nothing but disaster. Toodrake was not only the Commander of Troll forces. He held a secondary title. One imparted on him by another who was quite a bit more dangerous than all involved. A figure with the reputation of exceeding cruelty to those who failed him. A figure with a title. The title of King. A King who the Troll swore obedience to. A King who placed his son's safety directly under Toodrake's command.

"You would dare!" the Troll hissed as he raised his axe.

It was not toward the Elvin.

"I will do as I wish, Toad."

It was toward the Human.

As everything was happening in the quarry a couple of particular eyes noticed the activity. It wasn't difficult. The whole area had been cordoned off. From up high it appeared as a darkened circle surrounded by even darker forces. Everywhere they looked, save one, was filled with creatures and woodland. The evening was settling in and torches began appearing. It wasn't fully night yet the gloom gave off an eerie feel. When all they noticed was a Troll, those up high paid it little attention. When another figure emerged they paid it more heed. When five more figures entered the center of the area without another creature following they became particularly interested.

"What do we have here?"

"It looks like a private meeting."

"Yep, that it does."

They became curious and both centered their full attention on those down below. As their eyes adjusted they noticed a slight discrepancy between the main players.

"It looks like two Humans, four Elvin and a Troll."

"Yep."

It could've been anyone but they didn't think so. The reason was the Elvin. And the Troll.

"Why would there be four Elvin surrounding a Human?"

"Why would a Troll be in their midst at all?"

The interaction among the races was the key. Humans disliked interacting with Trolls, Elvin disliked interacting with any.

"I believe we have Blight."

"I believe you're right."

They were aware of Blight's possible arraignment with the Elvin because Shield had informed all of what Tweedlewink told him. They believed as the General did; the Prince was playing a very dangerous game if he allowed himself to be guarded by those who held to no higher authority than Death Herself. As they watched, a slight change in posture between all in attendance occurred.

"Did they just pull their weapons?"

"Yep."

The glint of steel was their only clue. Other than size they couldn't make out individual characteristics. They could, however, discern the difference between a slender sword and a meat cleaver of barbaric proportions.

"Did the Troll just raise its axe?"

"I believe it did."

The distance from themselves and the actors in the pit was too great for even their particular skill-set. They had no idea if what they were witnessing was just the random display of weapons or something more important. What they did know, though, was General Shield had entered Blight's encampment with the intention of warning Tweedlewink. It didn't take a leap of faith to surmise where Blight was located the Elfin would also be found.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"You thinking the General might be down there and could use a little distraction?"

"Yep."

So they raised their bows, took aim and let loose.

Shield watched as the Troll stalked the Human. It was an odd sight. Usually a Troll was the victor over a Human. Unless the Human was a professional warrior, like Cutter, then the roles reversed. Unless the Troll was one of the rarer kind, the kind with added intelligence, like Toodrake, then the roles became blurry. As Toodrake advanced with his axe Cutter pulled out a wicked-looking scimitar and appeared to relish the fight. Shield had seen others before. Those who called themselves professionals but were anything of the kind. They ran at the first sign of danger. Cutter was not of those kind. He was of the other kind. The kind which could back up their sadistic remarks. The kind which taunted others into believing they couldn't. The kind which then proceeded to prove they could.

"I will kill you, Human."

"I think not, Toad."

Shield watched as the dance unfolded. He noticed the others doing the same. Apparently the Elvin would allow the Human to prove his mettle. Apparently Blight would allow the Troll to fight for his sake. The anticipation built as both adversaries circled the other. It all played out in front of the pit over which Tweedlewink hung, a pit halfway filled with rubble, a pit with a giant hole awaiting anyone who forgot. The first strike went to Toodrake. He missed. Cutter did not.

"Ooh, that had to hurt!"

The Elfin, obviously, didn't know who to root for so he chose to side with injury. The slash on Toodrake's arm was not serious. It appeared the Troll never even felt the gash. Instead of wincing he lashed out with his other arm, an arm attached to a claw, a claw with razor sharp talons, talons which were weapons of their own.

"Ooh, I bet that smarted!"

Cutter showed no reaction to the marks on his forearm where Toodrake had struck. He merely danced a bit to the left and continued the fight. Shield rapidly came to the conclusion the battle would go on for quite some time. He was right and he was wrong.

Thunk!

Thunk!

The two arrows embedded themselves in the dirt about one foot from Blight's feet. The Elvin were the first to react.

"Take him to safety" their leader said and the three readily complied.

Blight never said a word. His face was an emotion of rage but his voice was never heard. It would've been worthless if he did. Three Elvin blades were easily a match for any prince's outrage, even if the prince held the power of Blight. The fight then took on a completely different dimension. The Elvin entered the fray.

"What are you doing, Blade?" Cutter asked, never taking his eyes from the Troll.

"Ending this before it goes too far."

Shield then knew. The two were in collusion. They were working for each other in their battle to wrest Blight's forces from him. What Shield didn't know was the logic behind their motivation. What could they possibly gain? When King Rot found out he would tear them apart. Wouldn't he? A thought began to form in Shield's head. The Elvin were not fools. Cutter, having been placed in command of Blight's forces, could not be considered a fool. So what was the plan? He began to think as the Elvin thought. They were after one thing and one thing only; the complete subjugation of all subject only to the Lady Death herself. Then he worked backward. If the Elvin took control what could they accomplish? Then it hit him. Blight was still alive. They weren't going to ransom him or demand he give them power, they were going to use him. Blight held the power of despair. It was most effective against those who already held hatred, sorrow and mistrust in their hearts. The beasts in his army were perfect candidates. The only thing keeping the multitude of monsters under his control was the power he held inside. All thoughts ran through General Shield's head in an instant as the Troll Toodrake faced not one but two master warriors. Two who knew the game was up. Two who were anything but under-confident.

"You should not have let this get so far" Elvin said to Human as they stalked Troll.

"I have everything under control" Cutter responded while taking another chunk out of Toodrake's hide.

The Troll, for his part, was proving to be remarkably courageous. It was not generally in their nature to do so. Shield was coming to the conclusion maybe he'd underestimated the big, green, nasty creature when suddenly things took on a different measure. It was the over-confidence of two who believed themselves invincible which brought it about.

"Why did you suspend the Elfin over the pit? He is too important for such displays."

"It was a necessary precaution. If the beasts did not see me make an example of the runt they might view my command as weak"

As they were talking they were also thrusting which found Toodrake backing precariously close to the pit.

"Well, when we're done it shall be placed under Elvin guard."

When the Human nodded his acceptance, Shield knew his time was up. If they placed Tweedlewink under Elvin guard he would never be able to contact him.

He glanced around and surprisingly found they were alone. He was in the middle of the enemy's encampment, a vast hoard of hellish beings surrounding him on every side yet where they were, at the location of the tunnel where the Elfin was held and the water source contaminated, not a single beast lurked. For a second he found it quite surreal. Then he gathered himself and prepared to do what had to be done.

Toodrake knew his time was up. He was bloodied and bruised from the encounter. He thought he might've been able to best Cutter but when Blade entered the fight he was hopelessly overmatched. He was fighting in the defensive. He was stalling for time. He was prolonging life. He thought it somewhat funny. He was going to die protecting a Human. He never, not in the most darkest recesses of his being, believed it could ever come to that. He was facing two master swordsman, teetering on a brink overlooking a pit and wondering how life could be so strange when things occurred which caught him off-balance. It wasn't his fault. He was a Troll, after all, and multi-tasking not exactly in his arsenal.

The two up high were watching the scene below. They'd fired their first volley and were curious what would happen. They were not surprised when the one they thought to be Blight was quickly ushered away. However, they were surprised when two other figures, one which appeared Human and one Troll, began fighting. They were even further surprised when they noticed the Human holding his own. They were beyond surprised when they saw an Elvin enter the fray. It appeared to be on the Human's side.

"Well, the Human is definitely not the General."

"Nope, definitely not."

The mission given to them by Mother Nature was vague.

"Help the General in any way you can."

"Yes, Mother."

They weren't sure if they were following her orders because they were too distant to recognize the actual players. They decided to go with their instincts.

"You ready?"

"Yep."

And they let loose once again.

The General could see the outcome before it arrived. The Troll Toodrake would lose. The Elvin and Human too much for the beast. He watched as the two who held the advantage pressed the issue. The Troll put a good fight but the end would come soon; either by slash or fall. His defenses tiring, Toodrake's eyes revealed the same. It knew it was doomed. Shield made his decision. He moved.

The Troll glanced behind him. The giant maw of the pit welcomed his arrival. He looked again at his opponents. He couldn't find a weakness. Every thrust met metal. Every feint employed failed to provide the wanted result. He could feel his time running short, only moments till he would need to make a decision; die by the blade or plunge to his death. To him, it was no choice. A glorious end preferable to an ignoble one. Fate, though, had her own ideas.

As he and the Elvin systematically backed the Troll toward the hole, Cutter felt the surge of excitement, the rush of ending life. He gloried in its power, seduced by its feeling, enthralled with its bloodlust. He reveled in victory not for what he'd won but for what others lost. He could see realization dawn in the Troll's eyes, knowledge enter its mind as it foresaw the truth and sought to prevent the inevitable. He had seen it many times before and it brought a smile to his lips.

Blade was impassionate, unemotional, a visage of death with forged steel in his grasp. He could feel the sinister desire of the Human beside him, he thought it a prehistoric drive, something the unevolved employed for they held not the advantage of the informed. It didn't matter. The Human was important. The Prince had elevated one they could control. The beasts would follow the new commander's orders for they could tell he was one of them, one of the wretched; one of the doomed. It didn't matter. They would use all to fulfill their desires. They would employ their own if the outcome demanded. Their time had come, their long wait finally at hand. The Infidels would rule all or they would rule none. Even the Guild would fall if they challenged their command. He saw the look in the Trolls eyes and knew the end was near. Then the look changed. And the change altered everything.

Shield closed the distance before anyone noticed. As he began to think he might cover the entire expanse he saw in the eyes of the Troll proof that he wouldn't. The Troll Toodrake could not prevent his own orbs from indicating what he saw. It didn't matter. The space was tightened. He entered with a vengeance and the tide turned with his arrival.

While contemplating throwing himself into a suicidal rush to end his life he became aware of something behind his attackers. The speed with which it moved caused him to blink. He couldn't believe it. In the middle of a battle he blinked. It wasn't the most surprising event. The most surprising was what became clear when his eyes readjusted; the man everyone knew to be the right-hand of Nature was engaging. The man known as the General, a warrior never bested in battle had joined the fight.

Cutter could see the change. One second the beast was conjuring the courage to do the impossible, the next, its sight centered on something else, something not expected, something behind them. He chanced a glance and shock shuddered his very being. The one he knew all about, the one he thought knew naught about him, was rushing forward, sword drawn, venom in his approach. He screamed.

"Blade, to the rear!"

The Elvin turned to face what the Human cautioned. What he saw tested his own training. He'd been molded and formed to be without fear, without remorse, without emotion. All things could be tampered, slowly but methodically removed from the subconscious. Or so he thought. He realized one could never be suppressed, the one which preceded the others; surprise was ever a confounding reaction.

The two watched as the missiles flew. Their eyes, while probably the greatest save the avian condors, were not so acute they could follow the arrows' themselves. What they could do was follow their trajectory. They felt the strings release, saw the shafts take flight, determined the paths and allowed their sight to follow through to the location they should arrive.

"Uh-oh."

"Oh-no."

When they sighted where they believed their shots would land they saw something emerge; a Human. A Human who moved with a speed unseen by most, something seen by them only a few times; the speed of one they called General Shield. They sat with worry, praying they had not done what countless foes had been unable to accomplish.

Shield moved with a purpose. He saw the reason for his hatred turn and notice his presence. He heard the one named Cutter shout a warning and saw the Elvin react. He made a decision. The Human could wait, the assassin could not. He veered. The Elvin braced for the onslaught. The General was steps away, his sword raised, his eyes on sight, his baser instincts on fire.

The Troll's mind was reeling. He'd been prepared for death, ready to make his final stand, aware all was lost. And then it wasn't. Things had taken drastic twists and turns. He'd placed his life on the line for a Human, challenged another Human to save that Human, and was witness to another odd event; a Human was attacking which might just save his life. It was the absurdity which caused his dilemma. He wasn't prepared for so much irony, he was a Troll, after all. So when he lost his footing he could be forgiven. The only thing which really rankled him, the one thing which really caused him misery, was his lost ability to eat the tiny little creature which was berating him as he fell into the dark void of the pit behind him.

"Have a nice trip you stinky, smelly Troll!"

Cutter watched as the Troll Toodrake made a mistake, shifted its weight in the wrong direction and tumbled into the pit. He turned to face the other, the one he'd heard about, the one he'd brought misery, the one who'd meddled in his affairs, the one who was attacking the Elvin, the one with a reputation of never meeting an equal. He wondered if it were so. He thought for a fraction of allowing the question to be answered. The Elvin was a master. Could it defeat what others could not? He decided against finding out. He needed the Elvin. They were important to his plans. Also, if the one called Blade fell to the General's sword he wasn't all too thrilled about encountering the man.

Blade prepared. He was somewhat amazed at what he was encountering. He'd heard of the General, of course, he just didn't believe the tales told were true. He realized his mistake. The man was a blur of motion. It didn't matter. He would stake his claim by staking steel in the other's heart. He tensed. The moment arrived. As he prepared to alter Shield's attack he was startled by a change of events. An arrow. Another of the flying projectiles sank into the ground, missing his left foot by whiskers. He was a trained assassin. He'd risen through the ranks and even been tapped as one of the few, one of the privileged, one of the fortunate. He did what came natural, what was ingrained, what had been deemed important; he shifted his gaze to take in new circumstances. It wasn't his fault, he was an Infidel, after all, and was ever wary of outside interference. So when the shaft penetrated the ground his eyes automatically adjusted. It was a mistake.

Shield changed tactics without realization. He'd been prepared to put the Elvin on the defensive, engage in a full-out assault and let fate dictate the outcome. She dictated otherwise. The arrow which landed caused the Elvin to alter sight. He should have been wiser. Nothing, absolutely nothing in the realm could possibly bring more danger than the one before him. The Elvin was foolish. He was also very, very lucky. For when the General took subconscious notice of the Elvin's change of focus he instinctively reacted and did what came without thought; he knocked the assassin unconscious with sword-handle as he raced by without breaking stride.

Tweedlewink watched with rapt amazement the rapid change of events. Everything happened with such velocity. One second a Troll fought both Human and Elvin. The next, not only was Troll gone but the Elvin was flat on his back after the General removed him with a backhand swipe. The Elfin saw the other, the vile contemptible other, react appropriately. Cutter, the one responsible for his people's plight, was retreating at a rate Tweedlewink thought impossible. He would've enjoyed watching the Commander of Blight's Forces plead for his life. He would've relished the opportunity to view the General remove the man's head. But something else had occurred. The first arrow had startled the Elvin, of that Tweedlewink was sure, because he knew his kind's other-half and realized no matter how proficient General might've been he was not a god. He could not remove an Elvin with such ease without help. The help was the arrow quivering in the ground near the foot of the unconscious assassin. It was not that arrow which caused him worry. It was the other. The one which had flown further. The one which had landed near a spike. A spike where a rope was attached. The rope holding his cage suspended over a pit. A rope which was partially sliced by arrowhead as it passed by.

Cutter had never met anyone quite like the man before him. He realized before the first slash he was not only overmatched, he was playing a game he held not the knowledge to succeed. He threw everything he had at the man, literally everything, for his sword had been disarmed with such speed and ease he found himself throwing anything in his possession at the attacker before him. His knife, his glove, even the coins in his purse were used. Nothing, absolutely nothing altered the man. Everything tossed was swatted aside as though insignificant afterthoughts. He saw in the other's eyes what he believed those who met him saw in his; death. He was speechless for one of the few times in his life. He prepared for the end. He knew he'd met not only his match but his complete and utter superior. He wasn't a fool, he wasn't a coward, he was a realist and he realized his life was over. And then it wasn't.

"General!"

Shield heard the Elfin but made no indication of doing so. He was boiling inside. The man before him, the man without a weapon, the man stumbling backwards in a desperate attempt to save his life, was in his sights, in his range and about to be in a whole lot of pain. He thought maybe time would ease the memories, blur the images, but he was wrong. Her visage jumped to mind. Her glorious beauty, her outrageous humor, her unabashed love... her bloodied, lifeless body. She had been everything and the piece of trash before him removed her, killed her, murdered her. He'd never felt anything so powerful as the hatred he felt for the one he stalked.

"General!"

Again, he paid the tiny Elfin no heed. He was beyond the physical, above the mental, residing solely in the internal, and soon the man he faced would understand the true meaning of suffering. He saw it in his enemy's eyes, a pleading for mercy. He smiled. He understood the man held out hope for sympathy. He held none. He held less than none. He held agony and would take his time. He would do it for her. He would avenge her life with the one who took it. He would make amends with the afterlife by providing Death with a new subject. He owed her that.

The thought provoked another.

Another he owed. Another he loved. Another he vowed his life to. Another who required his service.

"General!"

He took a step back. It wasn't necessary. The man on the ground, the man who'd lost his balance and landed on his backside was in no position to offer resistance. It didn't matter. Shield was anything but foolish. Even a wounded rodent would fight if given an opening. He saw in Cutter the type of man who could, and should, be feared above all; a man without a soul. He glanced ever swiftly. He returned his eyes to the one he reviled most. He made a choice. He moved.

Tweedlewink saw the end coming. The rope attached to the cage was frayed. It was quickly unwinding and soon he would follow the Troll Toodrake into the great unknown. He wasn't quite prepared. He held one more chore to do, one more gift to deliver and needed to know the truth; were his people safe? He couldn't blow the explosives if they weren't. He'd wired it all, the whole encampment. If he went through with the deed and his people still held hostage they would pay the price for his transgression. He couldn't allow it. He needed knowledge. He needed to know what the General knew. He yelled twice and was ignored. He watched as the greatest warrior in Nature's army easily bested two master swordsmen. He watched as the great man stalked another of a different measure. He watched and saw the other, the loathsome other, come to the realization he would die. He enjoyed the thought. He again glanced at the rope. He pulled Nature's amulet from under his tunic and held the treasure in his tiny hands. He yelled again. The third time was the charm.

Cutter watched as his life was given pause. His adversary, the man who led Mother Nature's forces had suddenly altered his actions. He'd seen death. The General was not subtle; his eyes told all. Cutter was aware the man knew of the past. He didn't know how but was positive Shield held the knowledge of who killed his love. He watched as the one who so easily dispatched him of his weapons shifted and took flight. For a second he sat there, mesmerized by two things. First, the speed of the man. Second, the reason for the man's decision. The cage, the one holding the Elfin was on the brink of falling, the rope untwined, a single thread holding it aloft. He reached his feet as the General left his. He watched as the warrior leapt and grabbed at the rope. He realized his life would be spared. He could not see the cage, it had dropped like a stone when the rope finally gave way. He could see the aftermath, however, and could easily picture the scene. The General was laid out, his sword on the ground, his arms reaching into the pit, his body tensed with the weight of the cage he held by end of rope. Cutter made a quick decision. He could pick up the sword and attack or he could retreat. The General was inside his perimeter. He had no escape. The decision came down to possibility. If he chose to attack would Shield let go the rope and fight back? Cutter wasn't a fool. Why take the chance? He fled, dragging Blade along, opting to get help and rid himself forever of one he wished never to encounter again.

Shield held on, but only barely. The Elfin was not the problem. The cage was. It was heavy, he was flat on the ground with nothing to help him hold on. He dug his toes as hard as he could but gained no hold. He was slowly sliding over the edge, the weight of the cage pulling him with it. If he let go with one hand he knew he could not hold on with the other. If he let go altogether he would survive but he knew not if the same were true of the Elfin. The pit was black, he could see nothing except what was right in front of his eyes. The rope, the cage, the tiny creature inside. A creature looking back with fright and something else, something surprising; curiosity.

"Hello, Tweedlewink."

"Hello, General."

The Elfin thought it strange the differing reactions of those in peril. Some panicked, some froze, some wailed and some, the rare few, accepted their fate and met it head on. The General was one of the few. He'd witnessed the man go from bloodthirsty conqueror to courteous savior in the span of moments. He was witness to something else, also.

"Can you hold it?"

"No, little one, I'm afraid I cannot."

Tweedlewink realized the problem. He knew fact when he saw it and reached a conclusion.

"Then let me go."

Shield saw the look in the Elfin's eyes and was intrigued. He found it odd people, no matter the race or being, could never be judged visually. The little being, the tiny little creature was willing to give his life so another could survive. It was not always so. The General had seen much larger men, experienced warriors, balk at the thought of death. The Elfin, no taller than a boot, stood much higher in Shield's eyes. He wished he could get to know the Elfin more but had a slight problem; they were beginning to slide faster and he still had a chore to perform.

"I cannot, Tweedlewink, for I must hold on so you can do what must be done."

The Elfin knew. He could read it in Shields eyes even if the words had not been spoken. But he needed to hear the truth.

"They broke the pact?"

Shield, bearing the burden of the cage's weight, knew he had little time. In moments his precarious perch would give out and they would fall into the black pit. His muscles were straining with the load, his joints aching with the effort but still he found it difficult to find the words. The physical was hard enough to bear, the emotional sometimes too heavy a burden.

"I'm sorry."

Tweedlewink closed his eyes for a second. When he reopened them tears fell. When he again clasped the amulet they disappeared. He looked into the eyes of Shield and realized another truth; the General had come to tell him personally, he hadn't sent another. He then knew then the real reason one who commanded so many others would choose himself; he was there on a suicide mission. He would not send others to their death if he were able to avoid it. He was there to commit the ultimate act for the one he loved. He was there for Mother Gaia Nature herself. The Elfin knew, everyone knew, for she could not, would not, hide her feelings from those she loved. Tweedlewink had seen it in her eyes; the unending love for the man named Shield. He'd also seen it reciprocated; the General's undying devotion to the woman he desired. He was struck by another fact which both saddened and strengthened his resolve; the man bearing his weight, the man hanging on for his life, was willing to die so Nature could live. He thought he could do the same.

"It's been nice knowing you, General."

"You too, Tweedlewink."

And General Shield watched as two things happened simultaneously. The Elfin closed his eyes as the amulet around his neck, clasped in his tiny hands, began to glow. At the same time he lost his battle, his toe-hold let go, and they plunged into the darkness of the pit dug for Blight's despair.
Chapter 42: A Spark of Revenge

The Siege (Blight's Encampment)

One waited for the words. It came suddenly and she rushed to do the job. It wasn't difficult. She had the necessary tools, after all.

"What's that?" the mercenary asked.

"What's what?"

"That rustling in the woods."

"I don't know?"

Roar!

"Yeaagh!"

"Bear!"

She moved without opposition because to oppose her was to be eaten. Her destination was known, she'd visited the sites before, she been instructed what to do and agreed to finish the deed. She needed help, though, because timing was critical. She made her way down through the rocks, through the fissures to the caves below. They were as a second home to her. She didn't particularly like the idea but could see with her own eyes the necessity. The others, those who held evil in their hearts, were everywhere up top.

"Hello, Squeal."

"Hello, Berta. Is it time?"

"Yes, count to three hundred then leave your mark."

She knew the time necessary because she'd traversed the distances before. Three locations, three points of interest, three caverns with three individuals ready to strike a blow on Mother Nature's behalf.

"Hello, Screech."

"Hello, Berta."

She informed the second and rushed to tell the third. it would be over in seconds, the deed done and her world altered forever. She found comfort in the caves, places to relax, places to rest, places to reside. The result of her actions would eliminate their appeal, bring down the house so to speak, by literally bringing down the roof. She thought it okay. The result was necessary. The beasts could not be allowed to win.

"Hello, Grunt."

"Hello, Berta. I suppose it's time?"

"Yes."

She'd shown them how to accomplish the task after the little one, the Elfin named Tweedlewink, informed her of his plan. It was quite simple. She had not the knowledge nor the learning to understand the chemistry involved but could readily see the tiny creature knew his business. He'd given her insight, shown her the way a piece of specific rock, a simple stone, when struck by another would give a spark. The Piglets were amazed with the discovery. They'd practiced it with glee. They practiced it with awe. They practiced it far from the fine black powder poured in a line at the far end of the caves.

"Please, whatever you do, don't strike the stones near the powder until I tell you."

Tweedlewink's advice had been followed. She'd never seen the results up-close but had seen the outcome many times. She had no wish to be near the area when the sparks flew. She made the Piglets dash out the escape route to verify they could reach safety in time. They proved they could.

"They'll have thirty seconds to leave. After that, if they're in the caves, they'll remain there forever."

She'd waited. She heard the Elfin's voice speak to her through Nature's amulet. She set off to fulfill her promise, sadness in her heart for the loss of her sanctuaries and deep grief for the loss of the others, the ones she'd finally befriended, the ones she would avenge; the Elfin of Breathtaking Forest.

The Care-Bear spoke the words and three Piglets stuck their hooves against a smooth black stone which sat upon another. A stone which sat next to powder. Powder laid down by an Elfin with explosive knowledge. An Elfin with revenge on his mind. An Elfin with the power to respond.
Chapter 43: Impossible Thoughts

Epilogue (Castle Nirvana)

They knelt in her presence as was the custom.

"Your Majesty."

"Please rise."

They stood to their full height and squared their shoulders for she was their sovereign, they her loyal subjects and the castle safe from siege.

"Please, tell me what you saw."

They were of two minds, two hearts, two beliefs.

"The enemy's forces have fled, Your Majesty. The Elfin's blasts too much for even Blight's command to hold" Hawkeye responded.

The beasts had been unaware of what transpired. One moment everything was calm. The next, the entire encampment engulfed in flashes of flesh-rendering, eye-popping, nose-searing explosions. Everywhere they looked, everywhere they ran was tranquil one second and a mass of debris afterward. It was the unknowable which sent them to flight. It took only a few, only those who found sudden disintegration unpleasant, for the others to follow and lumber, lope or shuffle away at whatever top-speed they possessed.

"And Blight?"

"We do not know, Your Highness. The last we saw of him he was being led away by Elvin."

They'd lost sight of the Prince when he entered the encampment proper. Their last vision of him reminded them of a prisoner, not one who led. They waited for the next question, the one they knew she would ask, the one they were loath to answer.

"And General Shield?"

The look in her eyes, the knowledge of something unpleasant which needed verification, almost brought them to tears. They knew, all knew, she loved them all but loved him as no other.

"I am sorry, Queen Mother. We are sending out a search party but I believe he is gone."

The look in her eyes, the knowledge of love lost, brought emotional rage to Longshot. He wanted to end them all, kill every last one of those who'd brought her misery. He couldn't, though, not at that time because the forces responsible had fled.

She bowed her head in grief.

"We do not know it for a fact, Your Majesty" Hawkeye allowed.

She looked at him with eyes so blue he found thought difficult. He held comfort in the fact he saw a less sadness with his words. Words he spoke truly even if he believed them naught.

"You do not know?"

She asked it of both but Longshot replied. He too found it impossible to comprehend because the amount of destruction, the overwhelming chaos brought about by the Elfin, was still resonating in his mind. He thought it impossible for any to survive if they were near the center, near the nexus, near the pit where an explosion of tremendous force emerged.

"No, Queen Mother, we do not. We were unable to identify individuals but both of us believe we witnessed the General enter combat near the pit."

"You saw him?"

"Yes, we believe we did."

Her next question was honest and sincere. A final prayer, a sliver of light, a desperate plea for a lasting hope.

"Do you think it possible he survived?"

The question was difficult for the one who once was the Mongrel. He'd never lied to her, never spoken a dishonest phrase and believed in his heart he never could. Her eyes changed everything. She truly did believe in miracles.

"It would appear impossible for any to survive, Queen Mother, but I've learned from experience if anyone can do the impossible it's General Shield."

She smiled her thanks for words she needed to hear. They had the time, they would scour the land, they would move mountains if need be for she needed the truth, she had to know whether her fondest hope, her greatest desire, still remained alive. But while they did so she knew of another fact which must be faced.

"Councilor Clearview?"

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Set about making plans to defend the realm. Send out messengers to alert our allies. Refortify every position and send out word to all; we have won this battle but the war goes on. We will need all of good heart, all of faithful mind, to repel what comes next."

He nodded and left to fulfill her orders.

All were of similar thoughts, similar minds, except one: the one who asked what all wished to know.

"Queen Mother?"

She looked upon her tiniest of subjects. Possibly the last of his kind.

"Yes, Tweedleword?"

He gazed upon her with eyes shadowed with sorrow.

"What's coming next?"

And she returned his gaze with sadness of her own, issuing words dreadful to hear.

"King Rot is on the way."
