

# THE

# WIZARD'S

# TEARS

# Tony Carroll

SUNHILL BOOKS

Copyright Tony Carroll 2018

Sunhill books

tonycarrolluk@yahoo.co.uk
Chapter 1

The huts were on fire. The village was ablaze. Martin looked up from the wet ditch and cursed his mother for having insisted that he hide. He felt like a dog. He should be standing up to the invaders like a warrior. But he was a boy, just thirteen. He looked across the river and saw a woman fall to the ground. His eyes closed. He could not help it.

When dawn broke and the invaders had gone, Martin lowered himself into the river and swam to the other side. Shaking from the cold, he hauled himself up the bank. The village was there, in front of him with dead and blackened bodies. He scattered the Offal birds with a wave of his hands. It was too much for him and he stumbled. Tears welled up in his eyes but none would drop. He stared at his mother. He brushed the dust from her forehead and kissed her gently. He took hold of the spear and pulled it from her body. And from the spear he pulled off the vermilion flag and placed it in his pocket. Then he turned his back on his village.

Martin walked due West, his thoughts turning towards the terrible images of the dead bodies, the circling Offal birds and most of all the face of his mother. In this way, he was vaguely aware of the forest that grew around him and the sun, which was setting. The forest soon became a place of shadowy forms. And then he stumbled and fell and then he was out of everything. Unconscious.

Slowly he came to and there it was: a warm trickle of liquid on his face. Blood. He panicked. Was he bleeding to death? And what was that sticky stuff? He rubbed it and smelled it. Pine resin. He'd hit his head on a tree. How bad was he? He couldn't tell. But he was cold, very cold. Thinking about the flag in his pocket, above all he just wanted to survive. He scooped out a hollow from the dry forest floor and lay in it, covering himself in debris and pine needles. His thoughts wandered as he drifted into a deep sleep. Shafts of moonlight surrounded him. Just one of those beams lit up the metallic surface of a deadly weapon as its cutting edge was placed across his throat. The resulting pressure made him wake.

"Don't move or you're dead."

"I'm not going to move but could you –"

"It's there and it's staying there."

Martin lay still.

"Just take it away. Please."

The dark figure snorted and then lifted the sword, ready to deliver its razor sharp edge, should it be necessary.

Martin struggled to his feet and dusted himself down. He smiled.

"Don't you know me?"

"Should I?"

A look passed between them.

"I'm Martin. I know I must look odd: all the blood and all, but it is me, Kate"

It just took that, the one word. A word that named her. She dropped her guard and her weapon. She embraced him. For the first time in his life he let a female other than his mother hug him. It was then that he knew how Kate had suffered. He sank back onto the forest floor with Kate in his arms. What would his friends think? They wouldn't think anything. They were all dead. Now everything he did was for real: there was no audience; no judgement. He felt a great release. Moonbeams cast their cold light across the sleeping pair.
Chapter 2

Kalbe was a child. His father stood outside their thatched hut and threw his arms to the sky. Kalbe's mother told him to come away from the window but he did not, he watched his father chant in a strange language. The incantations lasted a long time. Just when the boy grew weary of waiting, an intense flash of blue light lit up the house. He stared at his father who was by now a silhouette against a bright sky. Then everything turned to black. A deafening crash followed. The young Kalbe was frightened. Then a flash of pure white light seared his retina. He waited. He opened his eyes to see his father walking back to the hut. The door shut.

"Father what happened?"

"What did you see?"

"A blue flash, thunder and a bright flash. It lasted a long time and then-"

He was breathless with excitement.

"Slow down, son."

"It did happen, didn't it?"

Kalbe's father laughed.

"What do you think?"

"Why do you always answer a question with a question?"

Kalbe's father put an arm around his son; it was pushed away. Kalbe felt cheated; he sensed that his father was keeping something from him and moved away. Kalbe's mother had watched everything.

"Are you two going to stand there all night or do you want something to eat?"

When the meal was nearly over Kalbe looked at his father.

"I'm sorry, father."

"No. I'm sorry. I should have told you before."

And suddenly there was the sound of coughing and gasping for air. Father and son looked at each other. Kalbe rushed to his mother whose face was turning blue. He held onto her, not knowing what to do. He looked towards his father who looked insanely serene.

"Do something."

There was no response.

"She's dying. Do something!"

"Let her go. Trust me. You do trust me?"

He let his mother go and dropped to his knees and through his tears he could see the blurred impassive face of his father who got up from the table. He brushed a single tear away from his right eye and looked down at his son. He vowed that from now on, every so often he would allow a tear or two to fall when the time was right; yet he knew he should not: they were too precious. A blue-white light grew and shone through the hut; its intensity grew and turned to a brilliant pure white and then the gloom of a March evening returned. Kalbe's sight gradually returned and he began to see to see the indistinct outline of a figure approaching; it stopped and he thought he could discern a smile. It was a smile he had seen thousands of times before. He waited until his vision cleared. He knew who it was. Kalbe hugged his mother.
Chapter 3

Kalbe was alone in the pine clearing. There he practised his newfound powers. Day by day his confidence and control grew. There were times though when his belief in himself ebbed; today was such a time: nothing seemed to go right. He filled his lungs with air, held his breath and released it with a shrieking yell. He grew afraid of his power but the matter was out of his hands: it was loose. Dust and debris swirled up into a noisy, rotating vortex. A force had been released and he focused his attention on a large spruce. His mind concentrated on the tree. That was enough. The elderly pine spilt at the base with a resounding crack as an electric blue flash surrounded it. He was thrown back and landed on soft, damp earth. For a moment, everything in the forest was silent. Then the rubbish that had been drawn skywards returned. Kalbe was covered in dirt. Clear laughter rang out from across the clearing

"You were here all the time."

Kalbe's father emerged from the forest.

"I had to keep an eye on you."

"Did I do all right?"

He smiled.

"But I coped. Didn't I?"

His father's face grew more serious.

"The power you possess is something you must cherish. It is a thing that can destroy but it can also give life. There is a choice. No one can tell you what to do."

Kalbe looked down at his feet.

"When using your gift, you must remember two things. First, your emotions will determine the strength of your power, as you found out today, Second, the tears. You must always control them. Do not shed a single tear."

Kalbe looked puzzled.

"I don't mean now: you're still a boy. But when you are a man each tear will take something from you. Tears are a double edged sword."

Kalbe's father looked at the split pine stump and wondered about his son's power. Was it different from his? Kalbe sat on the ground. The sun went down and darkness became a shroud for the young Kalbe and his thoughts.
Chapter 4

It was nearly midnight. Kalbe Mazaar felt tired. He got out of his favourite chair, picked up his companion and opened the door. As he threw Cat out into the cold night air, he saw a red glow reflected in the clouds. It was to the East. Was it coming from Sarat? The village was in that direction. Cat looked up at his master and meowed.

"There now, my friend, don't complain. Far worse could happen to you than braving the cold."

Cat looked unimpressed and dashed off as Kalbe gazed at the sky. He was never quite sure of the time of year; most of his assumptions were based on the growing plants. It could be spring. Cat dodged passed his legs and resumed his place by the fire and purred. The log fire was still alive but only just. Kalbe closed the door, and as he did so, he saw his father closing the same door all those years ago; he had never seen him again. Now there was just him and Cornelius. That's the name he had given to Cat in his mind. He knew it was a daft name so he continued to call him Cat. He settled into his chair by the fire and thought he might have a short snooze.

"Involvement leads to trouble. And trouble leads to tears. And you wouldn't want that? Would you?"

"No father. Not tears. What do you think, Cat?" He nodded off.

*

The young Kalbe now knew how to handle the powers he had been given. He strode through the forest with his father as they headed towards home, no longer the apprentice but the master. Kalbe entered the hut first and wished he hadn't. His father followed and saw the bloody remains of his wife. A spear lay on the stone floor. After taking deep breaths, he ordered his son to wait outside. Kalbe propped himself against the fragile wall and tears dropped onto the dry earth.

"Kalbe, come here. Help me with this." His father was pulling a large sack across the floor.

"You know, don't you?"

He lowered his head

"We'll have to bury her."

They took up the sack and carried it to the forest. As the last of the dirt covered her resting place, Kalbe began to cry.

"You'll have to make those your last tears, son."

That night the hut was silent. Morning brought sunlight and a figure to Kalbe's bed.

"I'm going now, Kalbe, There is something I must do. Alone. You must stay here."

"Are leaving me, father?"

"I will return. Trust me."

He stared into his father's eyes. For a moment he thought he felt the beginning of a tear in his left eye; it was there and it went. There was no tear.

"Never get involved. No tears. Remember. And you must have this. Look after it well."

His father gave him an inlaid mother of pearl wooden box.

"In the unlikely event that I do not return you must open it. Here's the key."

After his father left, he looked at the box and ran his hand over the lid and felt the beautiful seamless workmanship. The box was important. The contents were important. Kalbe place the key high up on one of the rafter beams and then put the box in the safest place he could find.
Chapter 5

Dawn had long since passed and the early morning warmth flitted across Martin's face. He opened his eyes and saw the glint of a sword above him, poised to strike him. He lay still.

"You're pretty useless, aren't you?"

"What d'you mean?"

"Caught you napping, didn't I?"

Kate smiled as she swung the sword above her head.

"Not napping. Just waking."

Martin could not contain the grin that was within him.

"What's that smile for?"

"Nothing."

His chuckle caught her by surprise.

"Be very careful or-"

"Or what?"

" I'll cut your head off."

Just as she spoke, he leaped up, took the hilt of the sword from her hands and struck her with it. She fell to the ground and a small trickle of blood ran down her cheek.

"Are you going to kill me?"

"It's a possibility. I haven't decided yet."

He dropped his guard and let a smile cross his lips. She got up and faced Martin who was still grinning.

"Well, if you're going to kill me then do it now. Get it over."

He could do nothing but laugh and let the sword drop. Kate felt the wound on her head. Why had she been so impulsive? Why had she threatened him? He was no threat. She knew he had protected her. She knew the answer: she was the only girl in a family of boys; she had to prove herself; she always had to prove herself: eight brothers had seen to that. She looked at the blood on her hand.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have hit you."

He wondered why he had. He knew the reason: he was showing off. He couldn't resist the temptation. He looked at Kate's bloody head and felt ashamed. Martin cast his eyes to the forest floor where the sword rested.

"I'm sorry."

She looked at Martin; his twinkling blue eyes always carried an invitation to be mischievous. She roared with laughter. He looked puzzled. But her laughter proved infectious. They collapsed on the ground, rolled around and continued to laugh. Then they lay still.

"What do we do now?" asked Kate.

"We can't go back, not to the village. The only water west of here is at the Mazaar Well."

"I've never heard of it."

"My brother."

Martin picked up the sword but stopped as he looked at Kate.

"Well, tell me."

"It's nothing. My brother always exaggerates. If he wasn't a trader he'd be a story teller."

"Well?"

"He said that the Well of Mazaar is protected by a wizard. Yes, I know."

She laughed,

"We have no choice, we have to go westward. We will need water. Wizard or no wizard."

He swung the two handed sword over his shoulder and set off.
Chapter 6

Kalbe Mazaar opened his eyes and saw nothing. He felt cold and pulled the blankets closer to him. Cat jumped on his bed and proceeded to march up and down his body with purposeful stiff legs.

"What now? What's the matter Cat?"

Cat stopped, looked at his master and raised his right paw.

"I'm sorry, Cat. You'll have to tell me, I haven't quite got the hang of your sign language."

Cat place a paw on his forehead.

"Don't be so dramatic. Tell me what's happened."

"Where do you wish me to start, my most esteemed master?"

"Don't call me your esteemed anything. I'm not."

"Very well, my most honourable owner."

He looked directly at Cat and with his eyes dared him to carry on.

"Sorry master. The truth of the matter is – the whole nub of it is- when it comes down to it- what I want to say is-"

Kalbe took in a deep breath and exhaled his frustration.

"The day I gave you speech was a day when I should have had my powers taken from me."

Cat strolled up the bed and lay by his master's head. Kalbe now accepted that his night's sleep had ended.

"Why are you doing this, Cat?"

Cat looked at him with lazy eyes.

"I tried to tell you, my lord."

"What?"

"There are two young people at the well."

"Why didn't you tell me straight away?"

Cat purred.

Kalbe leaped out of bed and threw on his black cloak. As he closed the door behind him, he heard the faint reprise of his own words as Cat imitated his voice: _why didn't you tell me straight away._ The wizard fumed as he made his to the well.

*

The well at Mazaar did not look like a well so Martin nearly missed it but Kate didn't. She stumbled and banged her head against it. He rushed to where she lay.

"Are you all right?"

It was then that Cat decided to trot back to his master's hut. Martin had lost so much. Could he lose more? She might be dead. He placed an ear to her mouth and heard nothing. Despair washed over him.

"Wake up. Please wake up. Kate!"

He crumpled into a heap and thumped his fists into the ground. Above the canopy of the forest an owl spotted a small rodent. Martin began to shed tears. The owl fell to earth and thrust its talons into its victim. Death echoed in the forest.

As dawn broke, Martin cradled Kate's head in his hands.

Kalbe Mazaar slowed down as he saw the boy holding the dead girl and then walked towards a tree. He suppressed a tear as he snapped off a small branch of hornbeam. The loud crack made the boy look up. Kalbe met Martin's eyes with a look that calmed the boy.

"We'd best get her to my hut."

"Who are you?"

Kalbe told the boy to take hold of the branch. Its tip exploded into flames.

"We need to see where we are going, boy. Hold it tight – it won't harm you."

Kalbe took the girl's body and set off at a pace.

"She's dead isn't she?"

"I wouldn't say that exactly. Time will tell. You have to hope."

Kalbe wondered if his powers were still intact. The journey to the wizard's hut continued in silence with Martin following closely with the blazing branch in held high in his hand. Kalbe's hut came into view and Cat raced out to meet his master, circled a few times and followed him into the hut. Kalbe laid the body on a large wooden table in the kitchen.

"You look tired, boy. Get up that ladder: you'll find a comfortable bed in the loft."

Martin could not leave Kate, he had a duty and he needed to keep an eye on this stranger.

"If you don't mind, I'll stay."

Kalbe cursed inwardly. He had wanted to carry out his rusty old powers without an audience.

"I don't mind at all, young man. The healing may take some time."

Dawn had given way to the mid-morning sun as a tear almost escaped Kalbe's right eye. He stopped it just in time. There was no tear. He noticed that the boy was asleep. Now was his chance – he raised his arms and began to chant in the old language. An intense blue flash of light invaded everything; objects that were solid became transparent. The girl moved. Kalbe watched. She moved again. He smiled. She eventually got to her feet. Martin woke and half blinded staggered across the room towards Kate. She stopped him with a hug.

"You're alive."

"I am."

Kalbe restrained another tear.

"I think it's time you two had some sleep."

Kate searched Martin's eyes.

"He's all right. I think he saved your life."

"Is he the wizard?"

Martin shrugged.

"Up you go then."

He led her up the ladder to the loft. Kalbe sat back in his favourite chair and relaxed. Cat sat at his feet.

"Nearly blew it, didn't you, my worthy master?"

"Not at all,"

"But you weren't certain, were you, my most noble lord?"

"Who is ever certain?"

"Nobody, I suppose, my illustrious owner."

"Well then." Said Kalbe, putting a stop to the mild argument. "And stop calling me your most worthy this, that and the other. You know it annoys me."

Kalbe pulled his cloak around him and glared at Cat whose only response was to let a smile flit across its feline mouth.
Chapter 7

Dawn seeped into the hut and gently woke the wizard who picked up Cat and placed him on the stone floor. He stoked the fire and warmed himself. Cat roused himself.

"We'll need to make some bread, won't we Cat?"

Cat purred.

"When they wake, they'll be hungry. Don't you think?"

He made the dough and then built up the kitchen fire. As he closed the oven door, Cat stuck a paw in the air.

"What's the matter? The fire is flaming. There's plenty of cheese. What haven't I done?"

Cat looked at his master.

"Useless animal."

Kalbe thought for a moment and then placed a pot of water on the stove.

"Satisfied are you?"

Cat grinned.

"Arrogant feline."

Why had he given Cat the power of speech? As he finished his thought, there was a tremendous clattering coming from the loft: the two children tumbled to the floor and lay motionless.

"Oh, dear." Uttered Kalbe.

Cat looked up.

"A bit of a mess, isn't it, my exalted master? Are they dead?"

"Don't be daft."

Cat ignored the insult as the wizard knelt down. picked up the girl and placed her on the wooden table once again. She groaned. He took hold of a bottle of witch hazel.

"It's a dream; isn't it?"

"Lie still. You were asleep and had a bit of a fall. That's all."

Kate's eyes flicked above the line of the wizard's sight. Martin stood behind Kalbe with a broken chair leg in his hand.

"This is going to hurt a bit." warned Kalbe.

"Not as much as this, old man!"

Kate's eyes met Kalbe's with a look of concern. Martin screamed as the beech stick he was holding burst into flames.

"Don't worry about him. He'll be all right."

"I'll see for myself; we've been through a lot together."

Kalbe sensed the strong bond between the two children. Kate made her way over to Martin. Cat looked at his master and sniffed the air as if something rotten had landed in the kitchen.

"What?"

Cat sauntered away to leave Kalbe in a quandary. Then he smelled it. The bread. He opened the oven and retrieved the burnt loaves. He threw them into the air and began to juggle. When they had cooled he placed them on the table.

"Come on you two. Look at these beauties and freshly baked."

They dived on the loaves, stuffing pieces into their mouths.

"There's plenty of butter and cheese. Tuck in."

As they ate, Cat strode into the kitchen, made his way to Kate and circled her.

"What a lovely cat."

Kalbe grunted and said, "It's just a cat."

Cat stopped in his tracks and stared at his master.

"You are welcome to stay as long as you like. You'll both have tea?"

They nodded and he poured the brown liquid and handed his guests a beaker each and then sipped his own as he sat in his favourite chair.

"What happened to you both?"

Kate looked at Martin and he signalled his agreement. She told him of their story and how they had met in the wood. Cat lay down by the fire and listened to every word.
Chapter 8

A full month before Cat had an ear cocked to that story, another story had just finished. Kytowa had given the complete and often embroidered account of Skaret, a First Rank Shandar warrior and his battle against the Tibor Mountain bandits. Kytowa's children, still in the world of valour and brave deeds, just stared at their father willing him to go on.

"I think it's time for bed." Announced their mother.

"Can't we hear just one more? They're so exciting. Just one more. Please."

The children looked at their father, he looked at their mother and she looked at her husband and the matter was settled.

"Time for bed." Kytowa said firmly. A shandar warrior's words carried a power that was only resisted by those who thought little of their lives. Not, of course, that Kytowa would harm a single hair on his children's heads: far from it. Sarah looked at her mother.

"I don't think it's fair. Why can't I be a Shandar warrior?"

Her father laughed.

"Only men can be Shandars." Said her brother.

"That's no reason, Sam. I'm stronger than you."

Kytowa, who was always fond of a quiet life, pointed to the loft. Sam and Sarah climbed the stairs.

"Am I missing something, Kytowa?"

She raised her eyebrows just a little as she continued to sew.

"I promised Sam that I'd start his training tomorrow."

"You hadn't said anything."

He felt the knife enter and twist. She stopped sewing and looked into his eyes.

"So tomorrow you will start our son's training as a Shandar warrior?"

His wife was using _the look_ and he felt helpless.

"It was never your intention to consult me?"

He said nothing: _the look_ had total power over him. Then she smiled and looked away.

"I agree, it's time for Sam. At the same time I will train both children in the art of _the look,_ even though initiates are always girls. Will you allow Sarah to take the training of the Shandars?"

Mary resumed her sewing.

"No female has ever been trained in the Shandar warriors' tradition."

"No male has ever been trained in _the look_. What's the difference?"

He stood in front of the fire, warming himself, half expecting his wife to use _the look_. She did not. The silence was almost as potent.

"I could always let Sarah watch."

"And I suppose she could always pick up a few tips from Sam, after he had trained with you?"

"Yes."

Mary put down her sewing, stood up and leaned against her husband.
Chapter 9

For the sixtieth day in succession no rain fell. Martin woke and left the huge sack bed that he had shared with Kate and put on his clothes. He climbed down the new ladder, entered the kitchen and made his way out of the front door. Cat greeted him as he strode through the pines to the clearing in the forest.

"Did you sleep well?"

"No. Not really."

Kalbe did not give the boy any time to collect his thoughts before he had released an electric bolt that shot directly to his heart. Martin realised what was happening and held his hand to his chest and recited the spell he had been taught. The bolt dissipated.

"Very good, boy."

"That was not very friendly. You could have killed me."

"You have to be prepared for anything."

Kalbe set off for an early breakfast and just as he reached the edge of the clearing, he felt a searing pain. He stumbled, collapsed and lay on the ground. Martin ran to the old man.

"Are you all right?"

Kate appeared from the forest. The wizard's body was still. Martin shook him and recited all the spells he had been taught over the last two months. Nothing happened. Tears filled his eyes.

"Why did you do it, Kate? It was stupid."

She stood and let a tear run down her cheek: it splashed on Kalbe's face. They spread the body on the kitchen table and slumped to the floor, exhausted. They sat in silence.

"What are we going to do now that he's dead?"

"I'll go back to the village." Martin said as he stuck his hand in a pocket and pulled out a crumpled vermilion flag. He flattened it and the strange motif became visible: an upturned cross with snakes wrapped around.

Kate stared at it, "I saw the invaders ride into our village with them stuck to their lances."

"I took this from the spear that killed my mother. I will avenge her."

"But not yet, my boy."

The children looked up at Kalbe who was standing beside them.

"You're alive."

"Apparently."

Martin leaped to his feet and hugged the wizard who was embarrassed at this show of emotion. He did not know how to respond and felt the beginnings of a tear, which he suppressed: tears were precious things. Kate faced Kalbe.

"I'm sorry."

"It was a powerful spell, something to be careful of, Kate. But I am grateful for your tear; my recovery would have taken longer otherwise. Now then, this flag of yours. You hadn't mentioned it before."

Martin held out the small piece of cloth. Kalbe took it in his hands.

"It's the insignia of Darkhan, a wizard."

"Like you?"

"No. Darkhan is evil. I didn't think he had any following let alone an army. Who or what is behind him? Our world is now troubled by his darkness. Even here at the Mazaar Well there is no sanctuary from the dark."

He returned the flag to Martin who placed in his pocket.

"You should have told me earlier. We'll have to make plans to be on our way tomorrow. We cannot wait any longer. We have already lost two months. Gather your things and be ready to leave early in the morning."

Martin looked at Kate. Their wordless communication was noticed.

"You want to know where we are going? We are to meet with a Shandar warrior."

"They are not real."

"Tell that to Kytowa."

Martin sincerely hoped that he might see a real Shandar warrior. The wizard reached up to a disused shelf and brought down an ancient map of the island of Ozak along with years of dust.

"To reach Kytowa's hut requires us to go west from here until we meet the fishing villages of the Inlet. There we will take a fishing boat across the Inlet and continue further west. It will take us one week."

Cat stretched and yawned as he got up from his usual place in front of the fire. The wizard had forgotten how Cat could lie still for so long and take so much in. Cat, knowing what was planned for the next day, strode towards his master and circled him.

"Not now, Cat. I need to think. And it's time you two were in bed. It's an early start."

The two children climbed the loft ladder.

"Now you've done it, my mighty master. At your age, your worshipfulness, you should have more sense."

"I take it you don't like the idea of me leaving. Life has become too comfortable, Cat."

"I like things as they are, my deserving and dependable owner."

"Think about this. It won't be long before other guests arrive and they will not be well mannered, deserving, dependable or otherwise!"

"Your humble servant is forced to agree with his esteemed master and maybe a little excitement might be in order."

The wizard looked away.

"You will stay here and look after the well."

Cat was shocked.

"And face Darkhan alone?"

"He will not bother with you."

"Do not leave me, O wise one."

He picked up Cat and stroked him.

"You mean more to me than you will ever know."

Cat purred deeply. Kalbe place him by the fire when he knew he was asleep. He prepared for the days ahead by packing three sacks.

"Tomorrow is another day." He muttered as he went to sleep in his favourite chair.

*

The kitchen was dark and Kalbe was in a deep sleep as he felt the sharp claws dig into his flesh. He tried to ignore them as he hung onto sleep. With a blood-curdling yell, he shot out of his chair with Cat attached.

"This is no way to wake me up."

Cat released his grip and fell to the floor, landing on all fours.

"Master, you must go now. They are at the well."

Kalbe called to the children who had already appeared at the top of the ladder.

"What was that?"

"Just get down here. Now!"

Experienced in sensing danger, the children obeyed instantly. Martin landed at the foot of the ladder with Kate just behind.

"What's going on?"

"Just pick up those sacks. We have to go now. They will arrive sooner than I expected. Let's go!"

Kalbe set off but before he could reach the hut door, it burst open and two soldiers stood blocking his way. They held thrust daggers, which were instantly loosed. In the twinkling of an eye, Martin had covered Kalbe's heart with his hand and had said the short spell. While he did that, Kate had thrown two electric bolts aimed at the soldiers' heads. Simultaneously a harmless blue haze enveloped Martin and Kalbe. At the door the soldiers' heads burst like smashed watermelons, showering blood, fragments of bone and brain tissue across the room. Their headless bodies fell to the ground.

"I think it's only the advanced guard."

Before he left his home, Kalbe stopped to take the key from the rafters along with the special box that he was always intending to open. He shoved them in his sack. Martin and Kate followed him out of the hut. Cat contemplated the two headless corpses and the putrefaction that had once been their heads and made up his mind: he was not staying.
Chapter 10

Sam lay in bed, even though his father had called him twice. He was not lazy. Every single muscle in his body was crying out. Did he really want to become a Shandar warrior? He staggered out of bed and went to the window and stuck his head out. It was raining and his hair got soaked. He collected his leather shield, short sword, lance and daggers and made his way down to the kitchen.

"What kept you?" asked his mother as she placed a bowl of hot porridge on the table.

"Finding it tough, my boy?"

"Not at all." lied his son.

Mary _looked_ at her warrior husband and the change was instant.

"I remember my training: it was so hard I nearly gave up."

Mary _looked_ at him again.

"In fact most mornings I felt like throwing in my shield. And getting out of bed in the mornings was almost impossible. I suppose you have felt the same?"

"No, father."

It was Sam's turn to receive _the look_.

"As a matter of fact, I dread each morning. My muscles ache."

"You'll get over it, in time."

Mary smiled as she watched father and son get on so well. After breakfast, the Shandar warrior and his apprentice left for the training ground along the track that had turned to mud. Father and Son squared up on the combat area for a reprise of yesterday's lesson. His father's words echoed in his mind as he stood lifeless and countered the short sword blow: _stillness is everything_. And it worked. For the first time in his training, he had fended off a strike with his sword rather than resorting to his shield. _Conquer your fear and wait_. Another blow and yet another; he felt elation as his father failed each time to reach his shield. Kytowa stood still and bowed. Sam could not believe his eyes: a Shandar warrior had recognised his skill in the traditional manner. Sam bowed in acknowledgement. From the edge of the arena, Sarah clapped her hands.

"What are we going to do with her?"

He smiled at his father and used _the look_ as far as he knew how. Kytowa, unsuspecting of his son's use of _the look_ , called his daughter over to join them. Sam caught a slight movement in the corner of his vision; he turned and saw several riders with lances emerge from the woods and knew their intention.

"Look, father!"

"Remember your training. There are six. We could cope with four at any time but we'll have to do our best. Stand apart from me."

The riders bore down and aimed their lances. The dark clouds suddenly released their watery load. The horsemen gather pace and it was not long before the Shandar warrior could make out the crest which was etched on their breast plates: the inverted cross with snakes entwined.

"Darkhan's men!"

Sam stared at the closing phalanx and shivered as he recalled the chilling story of the evil Darkhan.

"They are only human, like us. Conquer your fear."

Sam began to recite the words that would calm him: _conquer your fear and wait: the fight is yours._ The riders manoeuvred until they had formed a short column, two abreast.

"Even better!" cried the warrior.

The two riders at the front broke into a gallop and commenced their charge. The experienced Shandar knew that they were committed and could not turn back. Kytowa bowed to his son who returned the gesture. Father and son stood still as the sound of hooves grew louder. The riders charged on, increasing in speed. The noise of the thud-thudding hooves grew to such a pitch that Sam thought they were in his head. Time slowed as he watched the mud lumps fly from the horse's hooves. They were nearly upon him; their nostrils flared. A scream compelled him to look above the horses to the men who rode them. They loosed their lances; neither found their mark. There was nothing that the two assailants could do but pass their human targets; nothing could halt their momentum. As they passed, both riders were cut in half by Shandar short swords. Father and son remained silent as the free flowing blood splattered their faces. On seeing this, the other four riders pulled up and conferred. They thrust their lances aside, pulled out their swords and set off, in single file. Their gallop turned into a furious charge. One of the riders broke away and headed for the other side of the field. That left three.

"Now we've got a chance, Sam. Remember the training."

They thundered past, striking out with their swords. None found their target. Sam's short sword brought down one while his father managed to cut the flank of another's horse, which fell on its rider. There was only one left whose horse grew nervous, not liking the smell of fresh blood. It reared up. Its rider whipped it into submission and then stung it into action with his spurs. Kytowa and his son stood apart as they faced the rider.

"Hold fast, son!"

Sam saw the telltale signs of speed: the mud clumps rising into the air and the strained look on the face of the horse. And then the horse pulled to the left in an attempt to get away from the killing field. The rider snapped on the reins and dug his spurs deep into his mount's flesh so much that blood spurted out. He charged towards the two figures. He bore down on Sam who waited. Only centimetres lay between the boy's head and the rider's sword as he heard the whoosh of a near miss. Sam kept his eyes on the rider and unleashed a throw dagger that struck him in the back. With that effort Sam fell to the muddy ground. The unseated horse started to charge aimlessly around the field. Kytowa wiped his brow and thought the Darkhan riders were no match for two Shandar warriors. The protocol had been observed; Sam had taken 'the blood' and was now a Shandar. Sarah made her way to her brother who was lying in the mud.

"You were wonderful. Now you are a true Shandar warrior."

As she grasped her brother's outstretched hand, the loose horse jumped up, slipped in the mud and landed across the young girl. She screamed. Kytowa rushed to her and used his short sword to cut the writhing horse's neck. A stream of blood flew into the air. Sam looked bewildered as his father tried to roll the dead horse off his sister.

"Give me a hand!"

With Sam's help, Sarah was set free.

"She's not good. Look at her arm."

Sam did not know where to look. He felt ashamed. If only he had thought of her rather than thinking of his status.

"And where do you think the other rider went? Think, my son."

Sam knew the answer and it alarmed him. All the time he was relishing combat; he ignored everything else, especially the rider who had broken away from the group. Of the three horses that roamed the field, he mounted the most approachable and rode off to his home. As his hut came into view he could see that the door was open and his heart sank. His arrogance had sealed his mother's fate. He blanched as he saw a young chestnut horse had been tied up outside his hut. He dismounted and drew his blood stained short sword and entered his home.

"What kept you, Sam?"

He stepped over the dead body of a Darkhan soldier.

"You are all right then, mother?"

"Why shouldn't I be? I think you underestimate the power of _the look_. I know he did. Not a pretty sight is it, Sam?"
Chapter 11

The path through the forest from the Mazaar well to the Inlet was for the most part shrouded in darkness. When the sun rose high above the canopy of trees, a sharp-eyed eagle soared in search of its next meal but could see nothing of Kalbe and his companions. They made fast progress. No one spoke. It was nearly midday when the wizard regretted his decision to let Martin lead the group; he knew that speed was of the essence but the pace was telling on him. As the afternoon wore on, he felt the pace quicken: were they ever going to stop? But he was certain that he would not be the first to ask for a rest. He was right to put the boy in the lead, even though his body disagreed. The group came to a halt as the sunset.

"There's a clearing ahead", Martin called, "we might as well call it a day."

"I think we should go on." Said the wizard as he crossed his fingers behind his back, "There's light left in the day yet. What do you think, Kate?"

"We've done enough for today." she winked.

The wizard breathed a sigh of relief.

"If you want to go on-"

"I think Kate is right. After all we haven't eaten all day."

Martin looked at Kalbe and smiled his big wide smile.

"You old rascal! You're as tired as we are."

Kate laughed. Such was the power of agreed silence. It was the thing that had let them make camp here, rather than twenty miles back along the trail. Kalbe smiled and winked.

*

The fire lit the faces of the three travellers as they sat and ate cooked rabbit.

"Very good, Kate." Pronounced the wizard, "There's bread and cheese in the sack when you are ready."

The wizard's face grew serious, "You were right to march on. We had to put a great deal of distance between us and our enemies."

Martin handed a nice round ripe cheese to the wizard who savoured it and then reached into his sack for some bread. By the time he had finished, the two youngsters were asleep. He pulled blankets out of their sacks and covered them. With a very minor spell, he conjured up an exact replica of his favourite chair and sat in it.

"A veritable home from home, my esteemed master, don't you think?"

Kalbe leaped up and looked down at his furry friend.

"What are you doing here? "

"Why don't you just settle down in your chair, my most wise and serene owner?"

"I see you have not lost your touch for irony, Cat."

"I am as you made me, lord and master. Nothing more. Nothing less."

"I doubt that."

"As your honour desires. Your wish is my command, my wizardness."

The 'esteemed master' sat down while his 'dedicated servant' leaped into his lap.

"Well, you infernally disobedient feline, now that you are here, tell me was has happened. And leave out the unctuous epithets."

Cat raised one of his paws to his mouth and then moved his eyes from side to side. The wizard looked up into the night sky to stop himself from bursting out with laughter at Cat's antics.

"And while we're at it, let's have less of the melodrama."

Cat laid his head in his paws and purred. Kalbe stroked Cat.

"So what happened?"

"The Darkhan soldiers were the advance guard, as you predicted. It was noon when the other soldiers arrived. They weren't too pleased at what they found and they were annoyed that you had fled. They talked about killing you as you slept."

"That would make sense. Even Darkhan must know I possess certain powers. He must fear me. But why?"

Cat purred as his owner nonchalantly stroked him as a furry aid to his thoughts.

"And they left?"

"No. First, they poisoned the well. Then they opened a huge box."

Darkhan fears me. Why?

"Go on."

"I think you know what came out of the box."

Kalbe looked at Cat and saw the terror in his eyes.

"A Shell Corpse!"

Now he was sure that Darkhan feared him. Could it be his tears?

"Blast! They arrived at noon, you say. When did the Shell Corpse set off?"

"Soon after."

"But you overtook it?"

"I went directly through the forest."

He started to calculate.

"We set off two hours before dawn. That has given us an eight-hour start. We stopped at dusk. At the most we are two hours ahead of that thing. Perhaps less. Blast again!"

Kalbe lost no time in rousing his companions and ignored their gripes at being wakened in the middle of the night. He increased their adrenalin levels as he explained what a Shell Corpse could do.

"You won't need those sacks any more: the lighter we are, the faster we'll move."

A flash lit up the clearing and then a torrent of rain burst from the clouds. The downpour produced raindrops that beat holes in the soft soil.

"This rain is not natural. I sense a wizard's hand in it. Rain normally comes from the west. This is from the east,"

"Can't you do anything?" shouted Martin.

"I'm a bit out of practice in the art of weather control. Sorry."

Lightning flashed as Kate took the lead and headed off on the path that led to the Inlet. Martin followed. Kalbe held his ground for a moment while he talked to Cat, putting his special box with its key into one of the large pockets of his cloak. Cat and wizard went in opposite directions. The children had not gone far before they were stumbling and feeling their way along the path.

"You will need this."

A branch snapped and the path was filled with light. Kate reached for the flaming torch. The pace of their journey was much faster than it had been the day before. Perhaps Kalbe shouldn't have given the children such a graphic account of the actions of a Shell Corpse. The small group maintained their trek throughout the dark hours. No one said a word. They battled with the slippery clay beneath their feet as their thoughts focused on reaching the Inlet. Distance gained was life retained.

*

Just as the sun rose, the path took a turn to the left and inclined. Kate stopped. It was steep and very wet but there was no other option: both sides of the track were covered in dense vegetation. She pressed ahead. Many times she slipped back but mostly made her way forward until she reached the top.

"You go next: I'll be able to shove you up if you get stuck." Said Martin as he winked at the wizard who gave him a look that would have silenced Cat. The boy failed to notice the rebuke as the old man started his climb. With enormous effort, Kalbe reached the top of the ridge and sat next to Kate, without the 'winking' help of Martin. The boy set off with natural confidence but before long he was in trouble, sliding back down the slope. Kalbe chuckled. At last, Martin found himself sitting with his companions, regaining his breath.

"Let's see what we can see." said Kalbe.

They looked down at the Inlet with its four fishing villages. The children marvelled at the sight of the sea while Kalbe looked for something else. There in the distance, blurred by the rain, but clear to him were the vermilion flags. If he had a spyglass, no doubt he would see the motif on the flags: an inverted cross with entwined snakes: the sign of Darkhan.
Chapter 12

Kytowa paced up and down the kitchen while Mary focused on her sewing.

"There's no point in this continual to and flowing. What's done is done." She said without looking up.

"I should never have agreed to Sarah being involved in the training. Never. You gave me _the look_."

Mary put down her sewing.

"And what do you think would have happened if she had been here with me, in this hut and on that day? I was out in the vegetable garden and where would Sarah have been?"

He stopped pacing and looked at the floor.

"Exactly. She would have been in this hut and would have been killed."

Mary took up her sewing.

"But you are right to be worried. Sarah is stable at the moment: I've seen to that but I have limited powers. She'll get worse if we don't get help. We need someone versed in the arts of medicine."

"Where will we find someone like that?"

"The nearest place from here would be the Inlet villages."

"I will go tonight."

"You will not. We need your protection. You must send Sam."

"Sam!"

"I don't know why you two don't get on. You said yourself that Sam was your best apprentice."

"He has the technical mastery but I doubt his ability to still his inner thoughts. He caused Sarah's injuries."

"You judge him too hard, he's only a boy."

"He is Shandar." He looked to the loft ladder and thought of Sarah, lying in pain.

"Sam! Come down!"

*

"Regard every person as an enemy until you are sure of their intentions. Keep your sword hidden at all times. Keep your daggers to hand, never letting them show. Make sure your money is close to you. It's your best friend."

Mary raised her eyes and much against her instincts, she used _the look_ to silence her husband.

"Remember only one thing: bring back someone who can aid your sister. Make sure you get help."

With that, the fledgling Shandar, left his hut.
Chapter 13

The gloomy thatched hall held most of what was left of the population of Tasut, the northernmost village of the inlet; the others had been killed as they resisted Darkhan's army. The torches, held by Darkhan soldiers, lined both sides of the interior. Their pale orange glow lit the space darkly. The smoke filled the hall with foreboding. A shout from a soldier near to the dais at the front of the hall silenced the people. In the quiet that followed, a small figure of a man mounted the podium. Though diminutive in stature, his appearance gave the impression of importance: he wore a black cloak, which he drew about him; his face was stern and humourless. He was the unmistakable presence of power.

"I am Darkhan."

The people murmured while someone from the rear of the hall shouted, "I wish I had never heard of you."

He was silenced with a long dagger. Blood cascaded over his neighbours who began to cry out. Soldiers moved to silence the screams with their swords. The resulting spurts of blood alarmed other people who tried to get away from the carnage. The soldiers, seeing this as a challenge to their authority, set upon them and sliced through the throng. A chain reaction had begun and soon spurting blood reached the stage and the person of Darkhan.

"Stop! This is not what I came here for. Stop!"

Darkhan's word quietened his soldiers. He looked around the hall and at the people whom he thought he might conquer with his words. He rubbed his eyes and put his hand to his forehead and stroked it. _Why couldn't the people see that he was a reasonable man?_ His head jerked involuntarily and only one thought came to him as he gave his order.

"Kill them. Kill them all!"

With his words, his soldiers gave vent to their suppressed desires. Their actions filled Darkhan with pure joy. He watched engrossed until the killing ceased.
Chapter 14

Kalbe Mazaar tried to gather his thoughts as the youngsters squealed with delight and chattered excitedly about their first sight of sea. The rain eased off and the fishing villages became more distinct. There were no boats to be seen.

"Have you made out the flags yet?"

The children stared into the distance as Kalbe noticed a magical change in wind direction; it had swung about and now came from the east. _Now what could that mean?_

"They're red like the one in my pocket."

"A sign of death." added Kate.

"We are trapped between the shell corpse and Darkhan's army."

Kalbe sighed as Kate spoke.

"What are we going to do?" asked Martin.

Kate gave her opinion, "We should stand our ground and fight that thing."

Kalbe looked at Kate and said, "No. There is only one way in which it can be defeated and that will require us to cross the Inlet."

"Right then. Let's go."

Kate leaped down the ridge and vanished into the wooded slope, which led to the Assan village.

"Martin, follow her and make sure she keeps out of trouble. I'll be right behind you."

Just as the boy made off, there appeared a strange beast, directly behind the wizard; its living form had changed; it moved towards him. Kalbe turned wide-eyed and smiled.

"Greetings, my wizardness." said rain soaked Cat.

"You took your time. Well, where is it?"

"It is a good six miles away, master."

"Nearly two hours away. It might be just enough time. We'll have to get moving."

"But I've only just got here, master."

"Tough! Or do you really want to meet that monster, face to face?"

Cat's eyes opened wide.

"No, I thought not."

*

Martin caught up with Kate and they progressed precariously, sometimes walking gingerly but mostly slithering down the steep muddy bank. They treated the journey as an adventure as they both outdid each other in seeing who could slide the most. In one of their more exuberant challenges, Kate took a flying start and led for most of the way until Martin passed her with a wave of his hand. He was the first to discover that the bottom, which they were aiming for, was the start of a precipitous drop and he shot into space. The impact of landing rendered him unconscious as Kate landed behind him. She was injured: sharp pain shot up her leg. She sat still.

"Martin! Are you all right?"

"So what's your game, then?"

A girl, dressed in sacking, stood over her.

"I'm calling for my friend; I can't move."

"Friend is it? He looks dead. And you don't look much better."

Kate looked at the girl.

"Wake him."

"No."

At this, Kate let loose a bolt of lightning that struck a far off pine tree and rendered it to firewood. The resulting blue glow lasted a second but the effect on the girl lasted longer.

*

Martin, still feeling groggy, nodded to Kate. She returned his gesture and they positioned the bound and gagged girl before them; their hands were outstretched, ready to deliver a lightning strike. Suddenly a dove took flight from a nearby tree and they tensed as they focussed their hands on the girl.

"Do not!" spoke Kalbe. The children relaxed and lowered their arms.

"What are you doing? Release her at once!"

Martin cut her bonds. The wizard moved to the girl and held her hands gently, inspecting them carefully.

"There's no damage done."

He removed her gag. The girl pulled away from Kalbe as he looked towards his companions.

"Now tell me: what's been going on?"

The explanation took a short while.

"I told you to take care of Kate."

Kalbe turned to the girl.

"I wish there was something I could do to make amends."

"There's nothing. Can you give life to the dead? No, I thought not."

"What do you mean?"

"The soldiers killed my parents."

Kate looked at Martin who stared at his feet. Kalbe put his arm around the girl.

"Darkhan soldiers?"

"They took over the village and killed, mercilessly"

"Your parents?"

She began to cry and the old man hugged her. Cat appeared and circled his master who was acutely aware of time slipping away.

"What is your name?"

"Alice."

"Alice, we need your help. We have to get passage across the Inlet. Do you know someone who can help us?"

"No. There's no one and all the fishing boats were sunk."

"What about the other villages? They'll have boats, surely?"

"We were the last village – " Alice's voice trailed away.

"What are we going to do? asked Kate, "That thing can't be far behind us."

"We'll have to leave here. Alice, will you take the cat? I think he's taken a fancy to you."

Cat narrowed his eyes as he scowled at his master.

"Be our guide, Alice."

"Where are we going?"

"I'll leave that up to you but I am very hungry."

Martin grinned at Kate who could not resist the innocent gleam in his eyes; she smiled back.

"It's a long way down; it'll take most of the day."

"Then let's go."

Alice led the way with Cat cradled in her arms.
Chapter 15

"Wait here." Alice whispered as she disappeared into a small hut.

"What's that noise?" asked Martin.

"The sea – the pebbles moving against one another as the waves lap."

"I'd like to see that."

Alice came to the door and beckoned them in. Once inside, Martin's face lit up. Not since he had left his own hut in Sarat, had he experienced such smells: there was the aroma of baked bread and overlaying that, he could savour the smell of meat stew.

"This is my aunt, Sophie."

Kalbe appraised the hut and discerned no threat. An ancient lady, dressed in traditional black, seemed genuine. He relaxed.

"Alice tells me you are travellers and need feeding. Assan people never refuse hospitality, even in these dark times."

The old man bowed and remembered that a formal response was required.

"You words lighten our hearts, lady. Assan people never turn away those in need. We thank you for your gracious gifts."

The old lady grinned widely, exposing her toothless mouth.

"Your reply is in the old tradition. Your good manners mean much to me. You are most welcome."

After the meal, Alice spoke, "These good people want to cross the Inlet, aunt. Is there a way?"

"There is your uncle. He has a small boat which is hidden and if the weather is good, it could make the crossing. Possibly."

The wizard let a smile cross his lips.

"But there's no hurry. I have wild strawberries –"

"Please do not think us rude but we must be on our way and I will not abuse your hospitality: you need to know that in short time one of Darkhan's creatures will track us to your hut."

"A shell corpse."

"You will not be at risk: well before its arrival we will be gone."

Kalbe was puzzled; surely the woman should have thrown us out, there and then.

"I'm not mad, you know: earlier you acknowledged my hospitality in the traditional form. Now I am returning the compliment: no host will let harm come to a guest. Wait here."

The old woman took her niece by the hand and left the hut. A broad shouldered man stuck his head around the door.

"Are you the ones who want passage? I'm your pilot for the crossing."

Without waiting for an answer, he disappeared. Kalbe and his friends followed him. The pebble beach grew red in the light of the setting sun as the old woman and the young girl had already got the boat to the water's edge. They held it steady as the group of four boarded. Alice pushed the boat out and as she did Cat jumped from her shoulder into the boat.

"God be with you Kalbe, the wizard: I may have need of your powers one day."

"You knew. How –"

She just smiled and waved as the small boat bobbed on the sea like a cork.

"And also with you."

He sat and thought of what the old woman had risked for them; a tear started to swell in his eye, he nearly let it escape but that tear, he promised himself, would be for her when the time was right.
Chapter 16

The old woman was pushed into a small room and fell to the floor. The door slammed behind her. Now all she could see was the undulating shadow of a Darkhan guard on the wall, cast by the flickering light of his torch. She got to her feet and waited. It was a long time before she heard bolts being pulled. A door opened, letting in no extra light. She heard the swishing of material against the door frame and from the darkness, came a voice.

"You must tell me about him."

"Who am I speaking to?"

"It doesn't matter, old one."

"But it does, Darkhan."

"If you know my name, why do you ask who I am?"

"I always thought that someone who has something to hide conceals himself in darkness,"

"Soldier, bring yourself and that torch over here."

Sophie could see the small figure of Darkhan as he stood before her.

"I hope that this throws a little light on the subject."

She would not be bowed and throwing caution to the wind, challenged Darkhan.

"Not at all. You are still in the dark, like all crawly things."

Darkhan heard her words and considered; he thought that actions should be tempered by reflection; he rubbed his eyes and then put his left hand to his forehead and stroked it.

"Get the girl in here and bring the captain of the guard."

The soldier left the room. Knowing that she had nothing to lose, Sophie provoked Darkhan.

"This must be your natural habitat. After all, toads, bugs and beetles prefer to live under logs, in the dark."

Darkhan did not reply but bided his time until the soldier, his captain and the girl entered the room. Dim light once again illuminated the small chamber. The girl was thrown to the floor.

"What's the name of the old man you were helping, girl?"

Alice looked at her aunt.

"Harm her at your peril, Darkhan."

"Brave words, old one."

He placed his foot on the girl's head. "Surely you don't want me to do her an injury?"

Darkhan smiled. Sophie rushed at Darkhan, knocking off his feet. Soldiers rushed to his aid as he got up.

"You, dear lady, will pay for your little indiscretion."

At his instruction, the soldiers made for the old woman and child. Sophie waited until they were nearly on top of her before she struck out with her fists. The soldiers were taken by surprise and staggered back.

"Do your worst, you evil devil."

Darkhan, realising he was in danger, summoned the rest of the guard. When they arrived, the woman was standing alone with two bodies at her feet. It was not long before she had been subdued and tied up.

"Now you will see the justice of Darkhan."

"Darkhan has no justice!"

Darkhan paced to and fro as he considered what he must do next.

From a small boat in the Inlet, a wizard felt it right and proper to drop one irreplaceable tear.

In that instant, a soft blue pulse of intense light filled the room. Darkhan dropped to his knees in burning pain and cried out in a loud voice.

"Who is he?"

The soldiers, blinded by the flash fell to the floor and their flesh fell from their bones. Soon the room was a mass of rotting cadavers. Alice looked away. Sophie stood up and looked down at Darkhan.

"Do not ever again presume that an old lady is an easy target for your depravity."

Darkhan, still in great pain, struggled to speak, "Who is he?"

Sophie smiled, "A greater man than you ever will be."

With that reply she took Alice by the hand and led her out. The fresh air rushed in on them like a dip in a cold pool of spring water. Alice looked at her aunt.

"You knew the wizard?"

"No. But I knew his father. Without him Darkhan would have been master of these shores many years ago."

Sophie and Alice walked arm in arm until they reached their hut.

"What he gave us tonight was one of his most precious gifts."

"But he is out on the Inlet, far away in a boat."

Sophie smiled and turned to her niece.

"It doesn't matter where he is for his power reaches beyond mere seas."

The old woman turned away and shed a tear.
Chapter 17

Black night surrounded the small boat as it made its way on the calm inlet sea. A makeshift sail had been raised and the soft wind made sure the craft made steady progress. The ensuing hours were peaceful. Kalbe took time to reflect over what had happened; just as he had entered this frame of mind, he felt the sudden cry for help that stabbed him like a knife and he was back with Sophie, in that suffocating room: there was little light and no air to speak of. Before him stood Darkhan, pacing to and fro; he heard his voice. At that moment, he let one of his most precious tears drop; it splashed on the wooden deck and disappeared in a minute blue flash. Even before his tear had dropped, Kalbe knew its power and recoiled. He wished he had never been a wizard. And yet he knew he had no choice; his cloak was upon him and he was what he was. Kalbe reconciled himself to his fate and accepting his burden made it lighter. He blew out through his lips, expelling all his pent up doubts and inhaled slowly, relishing the fresh salt tinged air. Now he knew what Darkhan had feared the most: the tears. My tears. He nodded off and his world became inhabited with dark creatures that wanted him dead and there was Darkhan who only had to call him by name to extinguish his life force. And there: his monster that was always only one lunge away; he ran. He ran and fell into a pond. Soaking wet, he got to the bank. The missing piece to the puzzle was deep down in the water. Now what must I do?

"Wake up. Wake up!"

Martin shook him.

"What's the matter, boy?"

"We're sinking. The boat's flooded!"

The wizard jumped up and found his ankles deep in water.

"Well, I never."

Rain lashed the small boat.

"You have to do something." shouted Kate, "Or we'll sink."

Kalbe smiled, "Don't you trust me?"

The boat lurched to one side as a gust of wind caught the sail. The wizard lost his balance and landed on his back. He laughed as Cat jumped on his master and placed his lips next to one of his ears and whispered, "You must do something, noble master. Or it is death for us all. And besides, you know cats hate water and there is much of it around at the moment. Act now, esteemed one."

"Have faith."

Cat sunk his sharp teeth into Kalbe's ear lobe. The wizard let out a staccato cry and got himself to his feet. Cat released his grip and fell to the floor.

"You of little faith." Kalbe muttered ancient words and a dazzling hemisphere of pulsating blue light sealed the craft from the elements.

"Satisfied, everybody?"

No one spoke.

"Good. Then I'll go back to sleep. I have a missing piece to find. Wake me when you sight land."

He wrapped his cloak around him and went to sleep.

*

The sun had only just come up when the Assan pilot noticed the first signs of landfall: gulls were circling and there was a mist, which was a precursor to sighting land itself.

"Land ho!"

The passengers awoke and took in the tree-lined shore. As the boat approached, small bushes became visible between the beach and forest. The pilot manoeuvred the boat towards the shore. Kalbe shook the sleep from his mind, stood up and shook his damp cloak. A smile passed across the wizard's face as the boat struck land. Kate and Martin leaped onto the pebbles. Cat jumped from Kalbe's shoulder, landing on dry land. Martin looked at the wizard.

"Yes, boy: we made it to the other side of the Inlet. Did you doubt me? But it's not over. Make no mistake that shell corpse will follow us and we have a trip of two weeks through the forest before we arrive at the Shandar warrior's hut. And we have no supplies."

The Assan pilot spoke up, "Begging your pardon, sir, that's not strictly true. Sophie asked me to give you this package."

Kalbe allowed himself to smile as he accepted the large parcel. The pilot heaved his boat away from the shore and turned his face towards his home. Within a short while, the empty boat was lost in the vastness of water.

*

To Sam, hiding in the bushes, stillness was all. He was still. He watched. And he waited. An old man with two children were landed. _Why did the boat leave them?_ They moved towards him, walking up the beach.

"It's a long way to the warrior's hut."

"Have we enough food for the journey?" asked Kate.

"Sophie provided us with basic supplies and you will provide us with the odd bit of fresh meat."

Without warning, Sam, dressed as a Shandar warrior emerged from the bushes with short sword raised. He confronted Kalbe.

"Yield or die!"

Kalbe disinclined to yield or indeed to die, ignored the threat and walked on. The small warrior, desperate for an outcome, repeated his challenge. The wizard asked the boy what he thought he was doing.

"I am Shandar warrior."

Martin looked at the boy and was disappointed; surely a Shandar should be older and bolder?

"If you are Shandar, my boy, then things have indeed changed for the worst."

Sam, outraged by the calculated insult, lost control of his emotions and the short sword traced an arc, which ended at the old man's neck. Instantly regretting his actions, he tried to abort the swing but was unable to stop the momentum of the weapon. Martin saw the glint of the sword as it moved towards Kalbe. Relying on his animal instincts and quick reflexes, he shot a fierce bolt of high energy towards the sword. Kate flung herself onto the wizard, bringing him down on the beach. The sword spun high into the air and with a crack, shattered into a thousand pieces. Sam stood stock still, overcome by a sense of shame: no true Shandar would have been so foolish. He lowered his head. Martin shouted at the abject figure. Kalbe picked himself up from the pebbles.

"What were you doing with a Shandar's sword?"

Sam struggled to speak.

"Who did you steal it from?"

"I didn't steal it. And I'm sorry I tried to kill you,"

Sam could no longer contain his tears. Kalbe put his arm around the boy and instructed Martin to make a fire.

"What's your name?"

"Sam."

"Well then, Sam, what are you doing here?"

Sam related his story to Kalbe as Kate left to find something for the pot.

"Are you a magician? Can you heal?"

Martin looked at Sam and smiled.

"Then you can help my sister."

"It depends; really I have no idea. Please don't get your hopes up."

For the first time since he had left his hut, Sam let a smile slip.

"Where did you get that sword from?"

"It belonged to my father and he really is Shandar."

"Kytowa. Is that his name?"

"Yes. How did -"

Kate emerged from the forest, holding aloft four seagulls.

"Look what I've got. And here are some eggs too."

After breakfast, they sat back in front of the dwindling fire. Kate looked out to sea and thought she saw something. She focussed on the far horizon. It had gone, if it was ever there to begin with; she shrugged and sat back, stroking Cat until it purred.

"I estimate it is a two week journey to your father's hut. Is that about right, Sam?"

"If we followed the forest tracks, it would."

"There's another way?"

"If you know the forest, there are many short cuts. We could make the journey in just one week."

Kate was sure. There was something. She lifted Cat off her lap and strained every muscle in her eyes. There was nothing. Perhaps it was the sunlight on water. No. There it was. This time there was no mistake: it was a large boat.

Martin noticed Kate's intense concentration.

"What have you seen?"

"It's a boat. Look."

He too could see the boat but it was only the sharp-eyed wizard who could make out the colour of the vermilion flag at the masthead. Kalbe ordered that they should leave immediately. Martin moaned as he put out the fire.

"You can stay here if you like: no one will force you to come but if you really want to meet a shell corpse face to face - now is your chance."

In no time at all, the wizard and the group of three children were ready.

"Sam leads: he knows the way and I'll take the rear."

As they set off down the darkening track, Kalbe could not help thinking that he had been here before. He knew the pace was going to be unrelenting. At the most the creature was only a couple of hours away: they must put as much distance as possible between themselves and it. The wizard put his head down and concentrated on keeping up with his energetic companions.
Chapter 18

The Darkhan guards stood by the two entrances that led into a large, dark chamber, much of which was in shadow or total darkness. A sound like the hiss of a snake echoed around the room. For a fleeting moment the small figure of Darkhan walked into the beam of a flickering torch and then disappeared into the dark like a cockroach disturbed by light. The snake hiss disturbed the silence again as a small figure came to a standstill directly under one of the torches.

"I won't be beaten. Not Darkhan."

The word 'Darkhan' reverberated around the walls until it died out. The sharp hiss of a viper followed as Darkhan retreated into the shadows.

"I will not be beaten."

The guards looked at each other as the echo died. They dared not move.

"The council will pay. Come forward my general. You will go to the Council of Ozak. Tell them that I demand their obedience. If they dare refuse then tell them that every living thing on their island will be destroyed."

Darkhan's general bowed and left. A flickering forked tongue shot out of Darkhan's mouth.

"I will not be beaten."

The guards grew nervous as the torches burned down; they heard the hiss hissing of a snake and watched as a dark form slithered past them, exiting by the main door.

*

A cloudless blue sky dominated the western region of the island of Ozak. Mary stood in the vegetable garden, wiped her brow and thought how simple it would be if she could give _the look_ to her rows of runner beans. And if only she could give _the look_ to the weeds. She thought of Sarah and Sam: her daily prayer was – protect Sam, let him find help and preserve my daughter. She wiped her brow again and as her hand fell, she caught sight of a group of strangers coming from the forest. She studied them for a while and then walked into the hut. Kytowa, ever ready, took on his sword and shield from the wall and watched: three children with an old man – there was no threat and he laid aside his sword.

"Mary, I think you had better get some food ready for our guests and by the look of them they will be staying the night."

*

Kalbe felt exhausted.

"It's just over there: you can just make it out." said Sam as he pointed to his hut. The rest of the group could see nothing. Kalbe sat down. "Let's just get our breath back; it's been a long haul."

Cat jumped into the wizard's lap and started to purr. With that Kalbe took out a round of cheese.

"That thing is still after us." said Kate, "We must leave now. You can't just sit there and eat cheese."

Kalbe could not deny her logic, though he wished she might take his age and ailing body into account.

"She's right you know, my master."

Wearily, he stuffed the cheese back in his bag. The wizard was hardly able to contain his irritation at Cat's verbalisation of his own thoughts and stared at Cat, daring him to speak further.

"I have a job for you, Cat."

"Is that so, master?"

"You will patrol the outer reaches of this wood."

"To what purpose, my illustrious one?"

"When you detect the presence of the Shell Corpse, you will come directly to me."

Cat arched his back and hissed.

"It is not a pleasant duty, master."

Cat narrowed his eyes and stared at Kalbe.

"You can remain undetected by that thing. Our lives depend on you."

Cat put his left paw under his chin and rolled his eyes towards the sky, imitating a human's considered response to a difficult problem.

"I want none of that: you'll do as you are told. What was once given can be taken away. Come to me when you have news."

Cat smiled at his master, knowing how precious his power of speech was.

*

The group appeared above the ridge of the nearest fold in the landscape. Kytowa recognised the figure of his son.

"Mary! Come here. Mary. Look."

Fearing the worst, Mary dashed into the garden and contained her emotions while she checked and double-checked the far off figures. How could he be back so soon? She began to cry. Kytowa put his arm around his wife, "It is Sam."

*

Once the wizard had treated Sarah and had assured her parents that she would make a full recovery, the rest of the evening was spent around the kitchen fire. During the course of the night, Kytowa and Kalbe exchanged stories while the children and Mary listened. Their fathers had known each other: Kytowa had told Kalbe how his father had met a wizard on his way to the council. The wizard had stayed for a few days and then made his way to the Ozak Council, intending to warn them of the threat of Darkhan, "Either he didn't arrive or, if he did, he was not listened to"

Mary, sensing that the time for communal story telling was over, told the children to go to their beds. After a short while warrior and wizard were alone. The fire spluttered.

"I have deceived you, Kytowa."

"Really?"

"I should have told you and I wouldn't blame you if you threw us out."

"How could I do that? You have saved my daughter."

"We are being pursued by a Shell Corpse. It will be upon us in a matter of hours and I know that you are the only person who can help us defeat it."

Kytowa smiled, "You have put a cloak of hospitality on me, if not a winding sheet."

The wizard threw up his hands.

"Don't protest, my friend, death has always been at my shoulder: I am used to it."

Kalbe wondered at the warrior's steadfastness.

"As you know, Kalbe, a Shell Corpse can only be killed by the sword of a Shandar. My only concern is that as a mere mortal I cannot prevail against the stare of the creature. I suspect you have something in mind?"

Kalbe relaxed.

"I thought so. So, what do you want me to do?"

For hours the warrior and the wizard conferred and worked out a strategy.

*

The doors to the island council chamber opened and Darkhan entered.

"Where are the councillors?"

Darkhan's general stood aside as his troops flowed through the entrance. Soon the council chamber was filled.

"Where are the councillors?"

Silence reigned before Darkhan spoke to his troops.

"As you can see, they have gone. The council means nothing. The only thing that matters now is my rule: the Rule of Darkhan"

With that, the assembled troops started to cry out in one voice, "The Rule of Darkhan! The Rule of Darkhan!"

Darkhan stood in front of his troops and drank in the adulation. Quietly, the general dismissed his troops. When Darkhan was alone, his general approached him, "Can I speak to you, frankly, Lord?"

"Speak your mind, my general."

The general shifted uncomfortably.

"General, do you wish you were somewhere else?"

"No, my Lord: it's just that I thought you ought to know that the wizard continues to elude our capture. We've done our best but he seems to have powers beyond our expectations."

"Indeed. And what of my beloved creation? Surely he cannot defeat that?"

"No, my Lord, but he has always kept one step ahead of it."

"Then do something about it or be my general no more."

"Yes, my lord Darkhan."

Instantly, the council chamber was plunged into black night and there was a loud hiss hissing. The general held his ground as within the chamber the slithering sounds of a reptile was heard to move over the floor.
Chapter 19

The sight of a huge round of cheese on the breakfast table brought Kalbe out in a cold sweat. Mary bustled around the kitchen.

"We wouldn't normally have cheese for breakfast but Kate told me of your fondness for the odd slice."

"Did she indeed?"

Mary looked into the wizard's eyes and used _the look.' Kate thinks a great deal of you: I saw it in her eyes last night. Don't let her down.'_

Sensing a power that he had only heard of in tales, Kalbe tore his eyes away from Mary.

"Please don't do that again, Mary."

She continued with her preparations, "I know of your powers and without them Sarah would be dead. I am grateful. I just wanted you to know how Kate felt."

The wizard pulled out a chair and sat down at the table.

"You could have used words like anyone else."

She sat opposite Kalbe and cut off a massive slice of cheese, "Dig into that."

Kalbe smiled. The gesture was infectious and spontaneously they burst into laughter. Kytowa entered the kitchen.

"Have I missed something?"

"No. It's just that Kalbe has not quite finished all the cheese – yet."

The Shandar laughed as the children entered the kitchen.

"My friend can eat as much cheese as he likes."

Kytowa sat at the table while Martin made sure he was next to the warrior. Kalbe was the only person to notice the almost inaudible sound of a door slowly opening. He was ready to use the full extent of his powers: every muscle and sinew in his body was tensed; he was ready for anything. And then he felt it. Under the table. It brushed his legs. If he didn't know any better he might have thought it was a snake. The wizard relaxed, knowing it wasn't. Mary caught the look in Kalbe's eyes, "What's wrong?"

"Another member of our party has caught up with us."

The Shandar rose to his feet, "Kalbe?"

"Stand down, my friend."

Cat, transported by the scruff of the neck, was placed on the table.

"My master, I have news to impart."

Sam and Sarah squealed with delight, "A talking cat."

Cat purred with great pleasure at his celebrity status.

"Never mind that now. What news?"

"I'm sorry to tell you that the shell copse is on its way, master."

Kytowa lost no time in preparing himself for the combat that lay ahead. He put on his Shandar battle armour and took up his shield and warrior short sword. Kalbe helped him with his helmet. Modifications had been made the night before: the eyeholes had been sealed over with wax and thick linen. In the coming encounter Kytowa would be sightless. At no time would the stare of the shell corpse penetrate his eyes. He would have to fight blind. Yet he alone would be able to kill the beast with his ancient Shandar sword; the age old folded metal had incalculable powers. Kalbe would be his guide in the approaching fight: he would provide the eyes while Kytowa wielded his sword.

*

The mid morning sun shone as the wizard and Shandar stood in a field behind the hut.

"Remember, my friend, do not take off your helmet until I say it is safe."

"How many times are you going to say that to me, wizard?"

Kalbe was nervous and regretted that he repeated himself so often. Cat roamed around his master's feet.

"This is not the time: I've got a lot on my mind just now. Go away."

Cat understood his owner's irritation and retreated to one side of the hut where Sam, Martin and Kate had decided to watch the imminent encounter between Darkhan's creature and the combined force of Kalbe and Kytowa. Just then, in the far distance, a small group of men emerged from the forest. Kalbe watched them intently, noticing their staffs, which carried triangular vermilion flags. Now the beast would walk forth.

*

The shell corpse took Kalbe by surprise. Though he was waiting for it, he had not reckoned on it taking a devious route to catch him unawares. The first the wizard knew of its approach was when Martin called out and alerted him. The monster came from the hut. Both wizard and warrior spun through a hundred and eighty degrees. The shell corpse stopped. Kalbe's heart pounded as he took in the strong odour of its rotting flesh; the beast's white, deeply lined face was fringed with long, coarse, straggly hair. There were no eyes but rather deep black pits. It was clothed in rags and the only parts of its body to be seen were its hands, which were covered in black, flaking skin. For an instant, Kalbe thought he detected a faint smile flit across its blue lips. He looked at the beast and raised his hand: a blue flash pulsed over the suppurating, decaying body; it stopped momentarily but then continued to walk towards Kytowa. Its pitch-black eyes wanted to devour the warrior. Kytowa saw nothing. As the beast approached, Kalbe told him to strike out with his sword: the blade met with its unnatural flesh. It was just a glancing blow but the shell corpse backed off.

"I'll need to do better than that. I only just scratched it."

"We are doing fine – take three paces back."

Kytowa obliged and this time, as the creature advanced, Kalbe placed a hand on Kytowa's sword arm and guided his movements.

"Strike now. To the left!"

The sword cut up through the air and made contact with the beast's head with the result that a large portion of its left cheek was sliced away. A thick, black treacle-like substance flowed out of the wound. The shell corpse, stunned by the blow, stopped in its tracks.

"That was better – we're beginning to get the upper hand." Kalbe guided Kytowa a good five paces away from the creature and waited. As he expected, the shell corpse started forward.

"It's coming towards you again: bring your sword up over your head and this time a downward movement, directly in front of you. I'll tell you when."

The wizard stood behind the warrior and moved him slightly so that the creature approached him head on.

"Now! Bring down your sword!"

The timing was perfect – the sword landed in the centre of the beast's cranium, splitting it apart down to the bridge of its nose and the creature emitted a loud low-pitched growl and placed its hands on its head.

"You must go in for the kill now!"

"Where must I go?"

Kalbe put his hands on the Shandar's shoulders and guided him.

"Straight ahead."

Kytowa rushed forward and thrust his sword into the very being of the beast. It cried out and fell to the ground. Kalbe urged Kytowa to thrust again, which he did.

"It's over, isn't it, my friend?"

"No. You must wait. We must wait until we know that it is dead."

The warrior, not used to caution in times of victory, decided to take off his helmet. The rush of clean fresh air to his face made him bold and looking down on the shell corpse, he decided to run his sword through its heart, if it had one. Dark thick blood oozed out of the newly inflicted wound.

"Put your helmet on!"

"It's dead. Can't you see?"

Kytowa pulled his sword from Darkhan's beast. At that instant, the shell corpse rose up and stared into the warrior's eyes. Kytowa froze. The beast took him by the throat and held him. The short sword fell to the ground. The snap and crunch of bones being broken filled Kalbe with terror as he realised that his plan had failed. The warrior's body dropped to the ground. The shell corpse stood for a moment and then started to walk towards the wizard who raised his arm and let fly an intense bolt of energy. The beast stopped while the blue discharge enveloped it; the effect of Kalbe's power was momentary; the creature made for him once again. Two more bolts halted the shell corpse but they were mere irritations as it neared the wizard who now knew that his life was over. His power was gone. Like his father before him, he had failed but he had no regrets and he would die knowing that he had done the right thing. He waited for the inevitable and as he did so a rapid series of events took place. First, not one but two bolts of high energy wrapped themselves around the shell corpse, immobilising it. Second, Sam ran from the hut, picked up his father's sword and closing his eyes thrust the weapon deep into the creature's chest. Sam turned away. Tears streamed down his face.

"Stay where you are, Sam and don't turn around."

The boy nodded. Silent tears flowed. No one moved. A piercing shriek filled the air.
Chapter 20

Darkhan preferred the dark. At his instruction, the windows of the council chamber were boarded up and only two torches were allowed to be lit. The chamber was choked by dim light. Guards stood at the entrance. Darkhan paced as he waited for his general. The main doors swung open and he stood in a convenient shadow.

"Well, my general, do you have news?"

"I have, my lord."

"Is it good?"

"Yes, lord, your shell corpse is at this very moment killing the wizard."

Darkhan smiled: at last he had the meddling Kalbe. Thinking of his impending triumph, he felt a surge of pain in his left cheek and gave out a cry.

"Is everything all right, my lord?"

"Everything is not all right."

Darkhan grasped his head as his general rushed into the shadows to see him on his knees, "What is the matter, my lord?"

Darkhan looked at his general and rolled his eyes, unable to speak. Darkhan's mouth opened wide and his eyes closed. A low indistinct murmur invaded the chamber; the noise grew louder as its pitch dropped and floor resonated with ultra low frequencies. The building was shaking. It ceased. Darkhan, with help from his general, stood up.

"What has happened, lord?"

Darkhan staggered away from his general.

"You, general, have betrayed me. That's what has happened!"

"But I do not understand."

"My beauty, my dearest darling has been snuffed out like a candle."

"Surely not, my lord."

Darkhan summoned the guard.

"Keep him alive until I am ready to deal with him at my leisure."

The heavy doors slammed shut as darkness shrouded the form of a slimy snake, which wended its way into the darkest corner of the room. Coiled up, it used its darting forked tongue to lick its wounds.
Chapter 21

The weather had turned for the worst, instead of sunshine; drizzle was the order of the day. Sarah pushed the wooden cross into the earth at the head of the mound, which marked her father's grave. The mourners stood in silence as Sam and Sarah placed flowers on the heap of dirt, Kalbe struggled hard to retain tears – they were valuable; he knew their power. He was a fool. If only he had empathised with that creature and seen it as something to be pitied then he might have been able to save the Shandar's life: a tear shed for an unfortunate monster was so much more powerful than a warrior's sword. In the days ahead he resolved to seek out Darkhan's mind and, in his own way, love him. Mary looked at Kalbe.

"What will you do now?"

The wizard took out a box; he ran his old hand over the lid and felt the seamless workmanship; he knew the box and its contents were important. He placed the key into the lock and turned it, lifted the lid and looked inside, "It's the flag of Darkhan."

Mary nodded, "It seems we all have something in common."

*

The feeling of fresh linen sheets was truly luxurious; Kalbe rustled about in them for a while he savoured their coolness and smoothness until they became familiar and warm from his body heat: soon he was asleep. During the night, the drizzle had turned into snow. Silence invaded every room in the hut. Kalbe slept and as he did, he dreamed. Darkhan stood on a dais.

_You need to do that, little man, otherwise you would not be so bold_.

Darkhan opened his mouth to speak.

Now what are you going to say? Words of encouragement to the troops?

"We have that wizard in our grasp. We know where he is."

Do you? He may know. And why shouldn't he? His creature came to its end here.

"I want a troop of our best soldiers to hunt him down."

The best of his troops. Should I take that as a compliment?

"One hundred gold coins for the man who kills him and twenty five for the death of anyone who aided him."

_So much? For me? And my friends: they are in danger_.

"And death to you who lets any of them live."

_That's the Darkhan I know and love as I have to, beyond my reasoning_.

"You have your orders – seek him out – destroy him!"

I have to make contact with Darkhan and with a will love him; for a time I must be his ally – it is the only way I know of defeating him. And yet. I hold back. Why? Will my tears ensnare him? Love him?
Chapter 22

It was the silence that woke Kate. She got out of bed, put on her thick cloak and walked to the window. Before her was a pure white sheet that spread over everything. She was mesmerised: all so white. All so different.

"What are you looking at?"

Kate snapped out of her self-induced spell.

"Well?"

"Look out of the window."

Martin peered into the night.

"It's everywhere. It's brilliant."

As their heads were side by side, Martin spoke in the softest of tones.

"It's not right."

" Shall I tell Kalbe?"

Martin nodded and smiled and she tucked that smile into her mind as she walked to the wizard's bedroom.

*

The door opened. Cat jumped up and readied himself for the worst.

"Kalbe, wake up."

Cat relaxed as he heard the familiar voice.

"Wake up. It's important."

Hearing the urgency in Kate's voice, Cat, against his better judgement, took his life in his paws and sunk his claws into his master's flesh. Kalbe shot out of bed. Cat unsheathed his talons and dropped to the floor. The wizard took in a deep breath.

"Unruly animal – you are making a habit of this aberrant behaviour."

"It's me – Kate: look out of the window."

The whiteness held him enthralled. Cat jumped onto the window ledge and almost fell out. The wizard turned from the window and breathed on a candle: the room filled with light.

"We have to leave: this snow fall is not right and in my dreams I have had a visit from Darkhan. Already his elite guard are on their way to kill us. Pack provisions – enough for many weeks. Speak to Mary."

*

The kitchen was a scene of hurried activity as Mary organised the children. She took the wizard's arm and led him to the range where she was coddling eggs in a large copper pan.

"Where are you off to?"

"Kossier."

"There's nothing there: it's just a fishing village. Why?"

"Darkhan is sending troops to track us down."

Mary, not using _the look_ , stared into Kalbe's eyes.

"You know that either one of us could dispose of hundreds of his forces without even the blink of an eye."

Kalbe smiled and looked down at the pan and counted the eggs: there were ten.

"You are a good woman and I suppose I could stay here until they arrive."

Mary looked away. Very gently, Kalbe turned her head towards him and then he saw her tears.

"I intend to confront Darkhan in my own time and in my own way."

Mary turned away, moved to the table and cut five large slices of bread as the first light of day burst into the kitchen. Two eggs on bread stared up at five of the six seated around the table.

"What are you waiting for? Tuck in before they get cold."

This early breakfast was consumed in silence. Mary stared out of the window.

"Don't worry about Sarah and Sam: I'll look after them."

Mary concealed her tears by turning away to clean the copper pan.
Chapter 23

The dull teeth loomed large in a mouth of prominent canines. The har of breath was a mixture of rotting flesh and just released savage adrenalin. The young deer was surrounded by a pack of hungry wolves: saliva dripped from their pink gums as tongues lolled and flicked. A lone wolf leaped and plunged its teeth into its hindquarters. The deer struggled as the wolf clung onto its meal. From the circle, a large wolf padded forward and peered down at the wide-eyed creature. In that instant its throat was ripped out and warm blood shot up in a fountain, which was the signal for the pack to rush forward and compete for their share of the succulent flesh.

*

Mary did not realise how lonely she would feel after Kalbe and the children had left. Now she only had her thoughts: about past events, mostly happy ones, a few sad ones and all those funny ones. It was just as she recalled the memory of a particularly silly one that she happened to look out of the window and chuckled. Then she noticed a flash of eyes from the snow-covered path. _What sensitive ears you have._ She looked out on a large wolf: it held her stare. _It's a pity THE LOOK doesn't work on animals otherwise you would be dead by now, my friend._ Mary, by exchange of eye contact, gained an insight into the animal's nature. She shuddered at the depth of the creature's baseness. Wolves were driven by their need for food yet what she saw in this animal was beyond an instinct for survival: there was a need to inflict pain and suffering. The wolf turned and pounded through the snow on the path that led to Kossier. She saw the pack that followed and her heart sank: wild animals never follow a man made path; their instincts told them to give humans a wide berth. Kalbe would need his wits about him, if they ever caught up. Just before they turned into the forest, a wolf stopped in its tracks and looked back. _What have I to lose?_ _Give it a try and see what happens._ Mary inhaled deeply and summoning all the energy at her disposal shot a finely focused beam of _the look_ at the cheeky animal. Its head burst apart, scattering bloody brains onto the snow. Howls ruptured the air. _Not bad._ _And that's one less for you to contend with, Kalbe._

*

Kalbe saw the rays of sunset strike his feet.

"We'll stop here for the night."

He walked around the compact and defensible clearing as Cat dodged around his master's feet. The wizard stopped.

"What is it?"

"They cannot hear you, my wonderful one."

"Why not?"

"They are too far ahead, my wizardness."

Kalbe was exhausted.

"I'm not going to take any more of this. In future, I will set the pace."

The wizard pulled a woollen blanked around himself and sat down.

"My most worthy lord, the trouble with children is that they have more energy than you."

"No. That's not true. My instructions were quite clear: we keep together; no one must be more than one shout from any one else."

Cat knew that his master was right. Kalbe started to build a fire.

"What were they thinking of, Cat? We should have stayed together – who knows what's out there?"

Kalbe pointed to the forest. Cat shivered as he conjured up all the worst spectres that might be out there. The wizard waved his hand over the heap of wood: flames burst forth and lit the clearing. He sat in front of the fire as Cat leaped into his master's lap and relished the heat.

*

The pack of wolves raced along the track, taking little heed of any obstacles in their way. Their relentless progress charged them with a fanatical resolve. With only the stars to guide them they surged forwards, led by Nahkrad. He slowed to a trot as he saw the fire. Fires, he knew, meant trouble. He looked back at his pack; his eyes flashed and instantly led them away into the forest to follow another path.

*

An unhappy Kate was the last to lie down. How could they leave the wizard behind? She tossed and turned and could not sleep. She got up, put a blanket around her shoulders and walked to the edge of the forest. Just then, Nahkrad and his pack fell on the sleeping bodies: their cries filled the air and Kate turned to look at the wolf pack as they savaged the twisting and turning bodies. She threw her arms up to night sky and chanted an ancient spell: blue rods of intense light struck each and every wolf. Those who survived limped off into the depths of the forest. Only Nahkrad was left. He stared into the eyes of the girl who stared back, daring the creature to test her skill; he held her gaze with smouldering eyes. She stood her ground. Her glare, full of hatred, seared like red-hot pokers into the very being of the beast. Nahkrad turned his head and slunk off into the night.

*

Cat jumped about excitedly.

"What's going on: can't an old wizard get some sleep?"

"Oh, but my wizardness: didn't you see it?"

"See what, you confused cat?"

Cat bowed his head and placed a paw next to his right ear.

"Now, I've told you about the dramatics. Stop it."

Cat looked into the wizard's eyes and slowly placed his paw back on the ground.

"What has happened?"

"A few moments ago I saw blue flashes – just a little way ahead."

Kalbe placed his left hand on his forehead and slowly shook his head from side to side.

"This doesn't make sense."

Cat watched his master and thought there was one rule for wizards and another for cats as far as dramatic gestures were concerned.

"Just before you woke me up I was dreaming and for the last few days I have been trying to contact Darkhan through my dream world."

Cat shuddered.

"Nothing happened until tonight and then it was not Darkhan. There was something else: it was as if Darkhan had turned his soul while looking in a mirror. All I could see were two eyes looking into my mind – daring me, challenging me. And then he started to call out his name and the you woke me."

Cat shivered while Kalbe collected his belongings.

"We had better investigate, my friend: it looks as though our advance party has run into a little trouble."

*

At first, Kate did not know what to do – she had never seen such injuries before and just stared in disbelief. Turning away, she wished she were somewhere else. She saw Martin's face: for once there was no engaging smile, no laughing eyes – just an expression of terrible pain. She knelt and tried to make sense of the mangled, bloody mess that had been his left leg. Frustrated at her inability to cope, tears rolled down her cheeks. She raised her right hand and recited the words of a simple spell for making fire – a blue flash shot from her hand and spun around the tops of nearby pines: soon they were ablaze and she hoped Kalbe was near and would see her signal.

"Kate."

And there was Martin's contorted face.

"Don't worry, Kalbe will soon be here."

She wiped away her tears and looked into his eyes.

"Remember that night when we arrived at the Mazaar Well? You thought I was dead."

Martin held her hand.

"Well, Kalbe revived me. I don't know how but he did."

Martin managed a half smile before he lost consciousness. She looked at the wide expanse of pink snow that surrounded him as she became aware of the moans from Sam and Sarah. Reluctantly she left Martin and was relieved to see that their injuries were nowhere as bad as Martin's. After she was satisfied that she had done all she could for their wounds, she sat down, exhausted. If it had not been for the shock of the cold snow, Kate would have passed out. She raised her hand and directed it towards a pile of branches, energy shot out and dissipated into the night sky: she had missed her target. She looked at Martin- the pink snow had grown bigger – he was dead, desperately tired, she closed her eyes and when she opened them, there, beside a roaring fire, were the silhouettes of Kalbe and Cat. In the sure knowledge that everything would be all right, she closed her eyes once more.

*

It was still night when the wizard woke Kate.

"It's good to see you, Kalbe. How's Martin?"

The old man closed his eyes and Kate felt a wave of nausea wash over her.

"He's alive-"

Kate burst into tears.

"- but only just. He's lost a lot of blood. I've wrapped a spell around him to keep him stable for a while but we need to get him out of this cold."

The wizard helped Kate to her feet.

"Back at the Mazaar well you breathed life into me."

The old man, fighting off a tear, looked away and stared at the night sky.

"At that time you had lost little blood and we were able to take you into shelter. And this cold - "

Kalbe shook his head.

"We'll go back to Kytowa's hut."

"He'll not survive the journey."

Sam who had his father's sword strapped to his back, stepped forward.

"There's a small hut that my father and I used when we were out in the forest hunting – we can take Martin there."

The boy pointed to the far edge of the clearing where a barely discernable path led into the forest. The next hour was taken up with the construction of a makeshift stretcher. When Kalbe was satisfied with their efforts, he gave instructions for Martin to be lifted onto it. Sam and Kate took the leading poles while Kalbe and Sarah raised the back and they started off up the track but it was not long before they were forced to stop. They rested and carried on. In the dark, their footing was unsure on the snow. Every now and then one of them would slip while the rest would have to halt and wait until the group was ready to continue. Just when they had achieved a harmonious rhythm and everything was going well, Kalbe slipped.

"It's no good – we can't go on like this. We'll drag the stretcher. It'll be a lot easier."

The wizard placed two ropes on the crosspieces of the stretcher while he and Sarah grabbed the ends of the ropes and held them taut.

"Let's go."

Shortly they were racing through the snow; the ride was rough but much quicker than what they had been doing. Their pace slowed and finally they came to a stop by the door of a little hut. Sam rushed to the entrance, opened it and went inside.

"Seems all right."

Kalbe motioned to the others to lay down the stretcher as he picked up a stray branch and followed Sam into the hut. With a flick of his wrist, the branch turned into a flaming torch, which lit up the interior. The old man took in the scene at a glance – small stove, table, chairs, two small beds and a rocking chair. Kalbe told the boy to hold the torch while he went outside.

"Let's get him inside, now."

The first rays of the morning sun struck the snow as Martin was taken into the hut and placed on a bed. The wizard instructed Kate and Sarah to collect wood while he pulled a couple of candles out of his sack, placed them on the table and breathed on them. He looked at Sam.

"Put the torch out and help the girls find some wood."

He looked at the injured boy and shook his head – the leg was not healing. The door burst open and the children carried in bundles of wood. In no time the hut oozed warmth; Cat stretched out in front of the stove and purred. Kalbe knelt by Martin and put his hand to his forehead. _Was there any hope?_

"Will he survive?"

Kate's voice took the wizard by surprise and he turned to her.

"I don't know. I just don't know."

*

The night forest was silent as Nahkrad and his wolf companion crept through the pines – they followed the bloody tracks of a wounded human. Their paws made no sound in the thick snow. Nahkrad stopped and turned his face to his henchman: there was no doubt about the loyalty that he saw. The wolf bent his head and dropped down. Nahkrad grinned, turned away and continued on his way. The prostrate wolf leaped up and followed, padding along the path until they reached the hunting hut of Kytowa. Nahkrad looked into the eyes of his companion, turned and strode off into the night. With an intensity and energy that the wolf did not normally possess, it bounded up to the door of the hut and hurled itself against it. The door burst apart and the wolf found itself sprawling on the floor. At this untimely intrusion, Cat jumped up and landed in the lap of his master who had fallen asleep in the rocking chair. Within a split second, Kalbe was on his feet. Then Sam woke and by instinct drew his Shandar sword. At the same time Kate and Sarah jumped up. The room was dark. The wolf recovered, stood up on all fours and pounced upon the unconscious figure of Martin. The sound of savaging ruptured the enclosed space. The wizard clicked his fingers and an intense light flooded the hut. Now everyone could see the wolf tussling with Martin's body: it had sunk its teeth into his injured leg and was pulling him off the bed. With the confidence of a Shandar warrior, Sam took hold of the writhing wolf's head with one hand while, with the other, he swung the sword. Its body slumped to the floor. Sam, still holding the decapitated head, walked to the door and flung it far into the night. Nahkrad looked at the head and seeing the blood covered muzzle, smiled. He turned his back on the hut and made off.

As Sam picked up the carcass and threw it out of the hut, Kalbe was already putting Martin back in bed. He shook his head: he was as good as dead. Kate looked at the remains of Martin's leg.

"He might have stood a chance before that thing got him."

Sam had worked hard to rebuild the door as the fire was built up.

Kalbe settled into the rocking chair. In the 'dark hours' just before dawn, Cat left his place by the stove.

"Are you awake, my master?"

"What troubles you?"

"Nothing wise wizardness."

Kalbe stroked Cat.

"There is something you could do, my cherished commander."

"So I have been thinking all night without a solution and my cat has the answer - bless me."

"Master - you need to shed a tear."

"My tears?"

"I know they are precious."

"They are not to be used frivolously."

Cat looked up into his master's eyes.

"Forgive me for being presumptive, my respected lord, but don't you think it is time to shed just one?"

Kalbe stared at Cat.

"Do not be presumptive again or you will join your fellow dumb felines."

Cat made his way back to the stove. Kalbe was left disturbed: he looked over to Martin. Tears were precious. They were not to be used. There were only so many tears. Break his rule now and then what would happen? A tear for every disappointment? A tear for every day? No. He watched Martin as the life blood ran out of him. His tears _were_ precious. He looked at the boy and wondered whether his tears were as precious as the life that ebbed from him. He stood above his bed and, without his permission, a single tear dropped from his left eye which splashed on the broken body. Kalbe shuddered as he realised the power that he possessed. For the second time in his life, his pent up power was released. Now he really knew about his tears: they were potent things. It frightened him. Tears, he knew now, provided him with extraordinary power: a power he could use for good. Kalbe looked down at Martin and he saw that his smile was restored.

"Where am I?"

The wizard returned his smile.

"You are safe. You are with us."

Kalbe resolved to meet Darkhan face to face.
Chapter 24

Silence smothered the small room as the children slept the deep sleep of the exhausted. Nothing stirred. The old man sat motionless in the rocking chair watching over his friends - since the incident with the wolf, he had not slept but rather sat thinking: mostly he thought about the power of his tears. It was light now and he got up, went to the stove and placed some twigs on the fire. He picked a pan and went outside to fill it with snow. He came inside, placed the pan on the stove with some dried leaves and returned to his chair. As he began to nod off, he felt a rough furry tongue on his face.

"Now, what are you up to?"

"The water boils, my master."

Wearily, he got up and looked into the pan of brewing leaves. Sam was on his feet with Shandar sword at the ready.

"You'll not need that just now, my brave warrior but keep it close, just in case."

Sam smiled and sheathed his sword.

"Wake the others. Time for breakfast."

Kalbe ladled out the hot liquid into small wooden bowls and placed them on the table.

As the children drank, the wizard produced a loaf and a round of cheese and prepared breakfast. He picked up the bowl and sipped: the infusion brought him to life as he reached across the table to claim his share of the meal.

Just then, the door opened - framed in the doorway was a man as wide as the door. Sam jumped up, sword in hand. The intruder spoke in a confident, rough and loud voice.

"Well, old one, do you need my help?"

Kalbe was shocked: never before had anyone spoken to him in such a discourteous way. The mountain of a man pushed by him.

"My name is Phatslaf."

"And why do you think I need your help?"

"I saw the smoke from the stove and thought who would pitch up here in this hovel if they were not in trouble, especially in this weather and with no means of transport. Am I on the right lines?"

Kalbe just stood and stared at the uninvited guest.

"Is what I see a good cheese, old one?"

The wizard turned away at the man's cheek.

"Then there's only one way to find out."

Phatslaf laughed, picked up a large portion and put it in his mouth.

"Not bad. Not bad at all."

The wizard tried hard to contain his anger.

"It is a good cheese, old one. A rare cheese. Plenty of flavour. Ripe and full."

As Phatslaf laughed, Kalbe grew increasingly irritated.

"You. You, fat one. The old one calls the fat one a thief!"

Phatslaf stopped laughing and stared at the wizard. The room was still. Martin and Kate were ready to unleash their combined powers while Sam nervously fingered the hilt of his sword. The mountain drew his hand across his mouth.

"It is true that my girth is larger than my height. Is that a problem?"

Phatslaf picked up another piece of cheese and shoved it into his mouth.

"Cat got your tongue, old one?"

Cat narrowed his eyes as the great heap shuddered and shook with laughter, sputtering bits of cheese over Cat's fur.

"This cheese is a fine one. I hope you youngsters are not all as po-faced as that old sour puss. Is he always like this?"

Martin looked at Kate who could hardly contain her laughter. She put a hand over her face.

"You are an uninvited guest, fat man. Please leave."

Phatslaf roared with laughter and made his way to the door.

"I'll go, old one but I'll be back in just a minute."

Suppressed laughter erupted from the children as a look from Kate set Martin off: he dropped his head and tried to think of something serious. Kalbe fumed.

"Preposterous man. Did you see him? Did you hear him? Did you see his waist? He ate my cheese. My cheese is now part of his fat gut!"

Martin lost his self-control and within seconds both he and Kate were doubled over, laughing loudly. Phatslaf re-appeared: in each hand he carried a water sack.

"Your cheese is good, old man, but it deserves something to really bring out the flavour and I have here a good quantity of fine ale."

"You've got a nerve, fat one."

In the past, Kalbe had found a liking for ale; it was a long time since he had taken a mouthful. The more he thought about the prospect, the more his mouth watered.

"Come, fat one and sit down."

Kalbe took some cheese from his sack and laid it on the table as Phatslaf sat down and placed the ale sacks in front of him. Kalbe eyed the two sacks and his mood mellowed.

"We'll take a bite of cheese and a drink of your ale, fat one."

"Now that sounds a good idea, old one."

The two men sat opposite each other and ate and drank, saying nothing.

"Penny for your thoughts, old one?"

"I find the taste not unpleasant. In fact, it's not unpalatable."

"Screeching Offal Birds! Not unpleasant, not unpalatable! What sort of an answer is that, you old windbag?"

The children giggled at the insult.

"If that's what you think of my ale, you'll have no more and I'll be on my way, you old fool."

As Phatslaf's hand grabbed the water sack, the wizard's hand stopped it.

"Don't be hasty, fat one. I am well known for my caution in matters of opinion. I simply need to sample the ale further."

He drained the bowl.

"Well?"

"I have to admit that it becomes better with every mouthful."

The stranger refilled the empty container. Phatslaf watched intently as Kalbe's Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

"Yes, my fat friend, your ale is truly excellent."

Phatslaf beamed as he poured out more. Kalbe smiled. Phatslaf roared with laughter, slapped him on the back, stood up and walked over to the children.

"I've got two horses outside. I'd like to release them from their traces and feed them: you'll find oats in the cart."

Phatslaf laughed and slapped his belly.

"What are you doing with a load of kids, old one?"

"It's a long story."

"I reckon we've plenty of time and plenty of ale."

Kalbe's bowl was refilled. As he related his story, Phatslaf's face grew serious. By the time he had told him about the Shell corpse, the fat man's face was solemn.

"So you think this wolf is out there, waiting?"

"I have no doubt: it was sent by Darkhan."

Cat shivered not because it was cold but because he could not abide the name of Darkhan. The door opened and the four children scurried into the hut. Martin approached Phatslaf.

"What have you done to the cart?"

"So you've noticed. Carts with wheels are no good in the snow. It's my new invention: with those tapered wooden poles attached to the wheels, the horses are able to make good progress in the snow. I've tried it and it works."

Kalbe thought for a moment and then looked at Phatslaf.

"I know what you are thinking, old one. And the fat one's transport is at your disposal. I will do all I can to help."

*

A silent darkness fell around the hut and inside the children had gone to sleep. Cat stalked the interior at regular intervals. Kalbe and Phatslaf still sat at the table, drinking the remains of the ale.

"We must leave in the morning."

"Don't worry, old one, I'll have the horses ready."

The fat one looked into the candle, mesmerised by its flickering flame; his thoughts went far from the hut while the wizard absent-mindedly put his hand in his cloak and retrieved a brown shrivelled leaf which he crushed, bits fell onto the table. Kalbe pushed the dry fragments around, making abstract patterns. Phatslaf watched with increasing concern.

"Don't touch it any more: it's from the Hislow plant - it's deadly."

"It's an old wives' tale. When I was just a child I ate several of the leaves. Do I look dead?"

Phatslaf stared at the wizard and wondered: he had heard the old saying many times before:

He who takes the Hislow and him survive

Him will unite the island and thrive

Taking from those who wish to divide

Could this be the person of Ozak prophecy? Oh, surely he is - maybe - maybe - what else could he be? Phatslaf took a solemn vow to dedicate his life to the old one - come what may. Kalbe stretched, yawned and slumped in his chair. Phatslaf put his head on the table and fell asleep. As Kalbe closed his eyes, he saw faint wisps of smoke creep under the door. Most odd he thought as he watched it slide across the floor and gather to a greatness directly in front of him. He thought he could make out the shape of a serpent as the smoke twisted and turned but then it was gone. Now in front of him was a single column of thick mist; it swirled in upward spirals.

"At last we meet, Kalbe."

It was a voice he knew and yet had never heard before. It was friendly but beneath there were undercurrents of malice. The speech tones were warm and smooth but deep down there was threat. An then he knew.

"Darkhan."

As he spoke the word, Kalbe remembered what he had to do; what he had decided many days ago: the only way to defeat Darkhan was to understand him, embrace him for what he was and shed a tear. That tear would conquer Darkhan. The thought of getting so close to evil made Kalbe fear for his soul. But was this the time? Darkhan had come to Kalbe. When Kalbe comes to Darkhan that is the time for tears. Not now. The misty column shimmered.

"You know, don't you wizard?"

"You must wait, Darkhan."

"Take the challenge."

The time was not now. He would wait until he was ready. The ghostly column seemed to read his mind and began to fade. Without thought and driven by instinct alone, he leaped to his feet and thrust himself into the core of the fading smoke. Immediately, he found himself a part of Darkhan's inner thoughts. In a few moments, he was experiencing some of Darkhan's childhood memories. And then, without warning, he was with Darkhan as he watched the slaughter of a whole fishing village. He felt what Darkhan felt; he saw what he saw; he heard the cries of desperate people and stood by, doing nothing.

Kalbe jumped up from his chair. Cat wailed as he was rudely awakened from his sleep to find himself in mid air rather than in the wizard's lap.

"Shimmering, smoking columns! I was lucky to escape!"

The commotion provoked by Kalbe's sudden shouting, woke the whole hut. Phatslaf sat up at the table and rubbed his eyes.

"I know I said we'd leave early but this early, old one?"

"I'm sorry, my friend, I think we ought to be on our way."

Phatslaf heaved himself out of the chair.

"I'll have the horses ready before you know it."

Phatslaf left the hut. The children roused themselves as Kalbe stood in the centre of the hut: the images and sounds of Darkhan's childhood surrounded him - he knew now that if a child were not accepted for what they were, then what followed was an easy, though not inevitable, route to something else. As a child, Darkhan was never praised, never congratulated and never made to feel valued. He felt sadness; unbelievably the sadness was for Darkhan. For just a split second, he felt the rising of a tear. A tear for Darkhan? It nearly happened. Kalbe shook his head. Kate came into the hut.

"We'd best be going. The cart's loaded."

Kalbe made no move to go.

"We need to get to Kossier."

She took his hand and led him out. Phatslaf jogged the reins and the cart lurched forward.

*

Phatslaf stopped the horses and got down from the running board. As he stood in the slushy, wet snow, he knew that they could go no further.

"It's just as well we're nearly at Kossier: the ground is a mire. I'll have to let the horses go and abandon the cart."

The fat man started to undo the harnesses. From now on, they would be walking. The children gathered up their belonging and left the cart. The wizard did not move. Martin clambered onto the cart. He sat with Kalbe and felt totally deserted: the person he most relied upon was now no more than a husk. What was he going to do? He tried to move him.

"I can't get him down. You'll have to help me, Kate."

Between them they managed to get Kalbe to the ground.

"I don't know what to do. I'm scared. What's wrong with him?"

She looked at Martin and saw the fear in his eyes. It was the same fear that she had hidden in her heart ever since they left the hut in the forest. Cat jumped down from the cart and circled his master. Martin put his head in his hands. Phatslaf gently lifted Martin's head and saw the tears in his eyes.

"I'll take Kalbe for a walk. We'll head up the path. From there we should be able to see Kossier. Just give us a little time."

With that, the fat one led the old one along the track.
Chapter 25

Supported by Phatslaf, Kalbe trudged up the steep bank. Suddenly the wizard spotted a group of wild Hislow herbs and knelt down: he picked a leaf, crushed it between his thumb and finger and raised it to his face. The pungent aroma invaded his nostrils and immediately he was transported back to his mother's garden. He was three years old and he remembered pulling up the green leaves and eating them. The next thing he remembered was his mother coming down the path, shouting and screaming. The last remaining leaf was pulled out of mouth.

"You could have died! One leaf is enough to kill a full grown man. Don't you ever do that again!"

How strange, he had eaten nearly the whole of the plant and survived. Kalbe gathered up several of the plants, detached their leaves and placed them in his cloak. With the help of his fat friend, he continued up the bank. While the two men were walking, Kalbe reached into his cloak and retrieved a few of the Hislow leaves and placed them in his mouth. He chewed them in defiance of their vile flavour. Phatslaf looked at Kalbe and smiled.

"I'm counting on you to survive, old one. Don't let me down."

Kalbe noted the look of concern in the fat one's smile.

"These leaves are harmless."

"To you, at least. I hope."

Kalbe appreciated the note of worry in Phatslaf's voice. The men reached the top of the bank and looked down on the fishing village of Kossier. The weather was fine and the sun shone. Kalbe could make out the details of the fifty or so huts that were grouped around the sandy bay. There were no ominous Darkhan flags to be seen. Apart from the small fishing boats that rested on the beach, there was only one other boat that was anchored in the bay. Though it sported no ensign, the wizard knew it to be one of Darkhan's fleet: too big for a fishing boat. The old man took out another leaf and sniffed it. He smiled, remembering his mother, then put it back in his cloak.

"Well, my friend, you'll be glad to know that not only did I survive those leaves but I am also fully recovered: my energy is restored."

"I'm glad to hear it. You had me worried for a while."

"And more to the point: I know why."

Just then he spotted the ominous sight of circling Offal birds. Silently he pointed. The fat man followed his finger.

"Darkhan's troops?"

Kalbe nodded.

*

The small and insignificant village of Kossier was now just a stone's throw away from where the group had gathered. Nothing stirred. No sounds of life came their way. Sam equipped himself in the Shandar Warrior's fashion. Martin and Kate had been given short swords while Sarah had taken it upon herself to wield a full Shandar's sword. The men were content to equip themselves with their wits. Sam spoke.

"Martin, Kate and I will lead, searching the huts - Sarah will stay with Kalbe and Phatslaf who will provide the backup in any emergency."

The two men looked at each other. It was not long before the advance guard of the three children had entered the first hut. The putrid smell assailed them before they had entered. Sam was the first to leave, spewing out the contents of his stomach. Martin and Kate stood still. They looked at the dead bodies which had already passed the state of rigor mortis; many of them were alive with maggots and were now liquefying in their advanced state of putrefaction. The room was full of buzzing flies intent on laying more eggs into the rotting human flesh. The overpowering stench eventually forced the two children to join Sam on the street. Martin held Kate as he took in deep breaths of fresh air. A cursory inspection of a few more huts made it plain that the whole village had been wiped out. At the same time, it seemed, this portion of Darkhan's army had also suffered the same fate - they were as dead as the villagers. No one was alive.

As the daylight began to fade, Kalbe looked at Phatslaf. The fat one nodded.

"It's the only way, old one. We can't leave them like this."

The wizard picked up a broken branch and blew on it: flames burst forth. Soon Phatslaf was holding another flaming branch. Not long after, the village was on fire. The light from the burning village illuminated the group of travellers as they stood on the small harbour front.

"Now what do we do?" Asked Martin.

Kalbe pointed out to sea.

"We get on that ship, of course."

Martin raised his eyebrows.

"And how are we going to do that?"

The old man gave no answer. Martin gave the wizard one of his cheeky, impertinent winks. Kalbe turned away and studied the anchored ship. Having seen the wordless exchange, Phatslaf started to remove his clothes.

"Don't worry, old one, I'm a good swimmer and the ship isn't too far out: it won't take me long to reach it."

"The sea is very cold at this time of year: it's too dangerous."

Phatslaf slapped his huge mound of a belly.

"Why do you think I've been building up this reservoir of lard? I'll be all right."

The fat one laughed as he shed his last piece of clothing.

"I'd better go before I embarrass you all."

Kate turned to Sarah and they erupted into giggles as the backwash from Phatslaf's entry into the sea drenched them in salty, cold water.
Chapter 26

The two men on watch leaned over the side of the ship and studied the fiery village which lay across the bay. It was with enormous difficulty that Phatslaf managed to haul himself out of the sea and onto the first rung of the in-built wooden ladder on the seaward side of the vessel and rested for a while.

"The commander is teaching them a lesson. Set fire to their huts he did: show them who's boss. How else do you get them to respect you? They understand the burning torch, especially when it's shoved up their thatched roofs."

"That's right."

The two men started laughing. Phatslaf nearly exhausted himself in climbing up the vertical ladder: he arrived at the top to find himself breathless and increasingly angry as he caught the last of their conversation. That laughter was the last straw. He stood behind them.

"Is something amusing you, gentlemen?"

The two men spun around only to be greeted by the sight of a rather wet, bedraggled, vast expanse of a man who was completely naked. Phatslaf took the initiative and rushed forward to seize them by their necks.

"If you wish to hang onto your miserable lives, then you will have to do as you are told."

Their muted agreement emerged from their near-crushed larynxes.

"Good. Now then, I want you to know that all your comrades are dead. At this very moment they are being consumed by the very flames you have been watching. And, unless you do as I say, you will join them."

Phatslaf could not resist a slight squeeze around their necks to emphasise his point. From that moment on, their complete cooperation was guaranteed.

*

Cat came to his master and circled him, expecting, at the very least, a couple of absentminded hand strokes. Nothing happened. He went to Martin who picked him up and stroked him as he watched the light from the fires in the village fade. A tear trickled down his face as he remembered his mother. Kate came close. Another tear trickled down his cheek. She could hardly bear to watch as the tears welled up in his eyes. Caught by his emotions, she too, was shedding tears.

"There's a boat coming!" Kalbe shouted.

And there in the darkness, a rowing boat was heading towards the group at the harbour. No one could make who was at the oars but there was one thing for certain: it was not Phatslaf. Sam drew his Shandar sword as Sarah unsheathed hers, ready for action. Kalbe walked to the edge of the jetty and peered into the night. The boat came closer.

"I've a message for the old one."

Once he heard those words, Kalbe relaxed.

"What's the message?"

"The fat one tells the old one to come aboard."

He smiled and took Cat from Martin.

*

The dawn rays flooded the cabin, waking Kalbe from a peaceful sleep. It was many days since he had slept so deeply. But what was happening? The sunlight from the east? It made no sense. Going to Elkaro meant the sunlight should come from the west. Still, he was no mariner and the mysteries of tacking according to wind direction made little sense to him. He made his way up to the main deck. Phatslaf was already there.

"It's a grand morning, old one."

Kalbe looked at the sky and then at Phatslaf.

"Why are we on a westerly course? You can't hide the sun's position from me, you know. Where are we bound?"

"What is the point of going to Darkhan's lair if you are ill-prepared - which you are, my friend. You'll need some sort of an army or how else will you confront him?"

"So where are we headed?"

The great frame of a man shook as he laughed.

"My home city, of course. We go to Kharga."

"But there is nothing there."

Phatslaf smiled as he looked at the puzzled wizard."

"Not _El Kharga_. What I am talking about is the desert city of Kharga."

"I don't understand."

"I'm glad about that because it means that our people's secret has been well kept."

The wizard stared out across the rough sea. The sun was intense and he pulled up his hood. As he became submerged in his thoughts, the four children emerged onto the deck, chattering noisily.

"So you have hidden a city in the desert. A city in the desert without water?"

"Desert wells, my friend - and I don't mean the little things you see in your countryside with a single bucket. These wells are enormous: it takes teams of horses to operate each of the pumps."

Kalbe's stomach rumbled.

"I think it's time for breakfast, fat one."

"Well let's see what those Darkhan sailors have managed to come up with. I gave them strict instructions - away with their heads if they haven't a great feast for us!"
Chapter 27

The pure white plumage of a Great Ocean bird was ruffled by the sea breezes as it glided uncertainly above the Darkhan ship. It swooped down as the air currents gave way under its huge wing span, only to find a sudden updraft which lifted it to new heights. With consummate confidence it soared high above the ship, constantly scanning the waters below for fish signs. In an instant, the mighty bird had closed its wings and plunged seaward. Gently settling on the water, the bird seized a large hunk of cheese.

"Look, even the birds like Darkhan's cheese." said Phatslaf as Kalbe joined him in watching the great bird. The wizard closed the window to his cabin. Both men resumed their seats at the table and Phatslaf poured more of his ale into the wizard's bowl.

"I'll say this, old one, Darkhan really knows how to look after his troops: I've never had a better cheese."

"To my mind, the cheese tastes better for the fact that it was provided by him but was not intended for us."

Just as the wizard lifted his bowl to his mouth, the ship rocked violently.

"I wondered how long your Darkhan sailors would cooperate."

"I'd best go and see what is happening."

Before Phatslaf could get up from the table, another enormous jolt shook the ship which resulted in both men being flung from their chairs. The ship shuddered once again and a torrent of sea water rushed into the cabin and washed about in its confines. Kalbe clung onto one of the legs of the immovable table. Phatslaf was washed this way and that by the internal tide. Then stillness.

"Something is seriously wrong. I'm going up."

Kalbe mounted the steps as the ship lurched wildly - he hung on and continued to climb until he reached the hatch. It was closed. No matter how hard he pushed, he could not open it. A brief snap of his fingers blasted the hatch skywards and enabled him to clamber onto the main deck. Suddenly, the ship spun on its axis, throwing him down. And then there was silence. He stood up, wondering what was happening. Nothing made sense until he saw the dark form of a sea serpent, silhouetted against the bright horizon. He had heard of these sea monsters all his life but gave their existence little credence. The creature, with its head above the water, bobbed about.

"Thinking again, my esteemed master?"

Cat wrapped himself around Kalbe's legs, fearing for his life.

"As a matter of fact I am, my furry friend."

Cat shivered.

"What's happening?" shouted Sam as he approached Kalbe, fitting his Shandar sword to his shoulder. The wizard pointed to the undulating dark mass in the water.

"It's huge."

Kate, Martin and Sarah joined them as they continued to stare at the immobile floating monster. Silently the beast submerged beneath the ocean's surface and disappeared.

"It's gone."

Martin breathed a sigh of relief. Sam dropped his shaking hand from the hilt of his sword. Only Kate and the wizard remained ready, convinced the danger was not over. The group stood and kept watch as the sun kissed the horizon. Martin shielded his eyes to peer through the shimmering red reflections: he could see nothing. Kalbe turned his back on the sea.

"It looks like you were right, Martin. It's gone."

Then the monster rose out of the sea. It struck the wooden hull as it shot up like a shooting star to tower above them. Kalbe turned and looked into the face of the beast. Its hooded eyes bulged and swivelled as it sought out its next meal. Its mouth opened, releasing obnoxious gases that had been pent up in its gut; the rotting fish smell engulfed the terrified, diminutive figures on the deck. Its mouth widened, revealing its pointed, jagged, yellow teeth as its forked tongue flicked nervously from side to side. With a sudden movement it dipped its head towards the deck and knocked Kalbe off his feet with its whip tongue. Its massive mouth shut, cutting in two nothing but the salt air. Sam and Sarah were ready with their swords. It lowered its head once again and, before it could snap its mouth shut, Sam had swung his sword in an arc to meet with the creature's flickering forked tongue. The well-judged swipe left a large portion of the beast's tongue wriggling on the deck. The wounded serpent reared up and uttered a cry of pain that shook the ship. By this time, Kalbe had recovered and was on his feet. Placing his hands against his ears to block out the shrieks from the injured creature, he staggered to where the children had grouped and motioned to them to lie on the deck. The sea serpent looked down on the prone figures, shut its eyes and slid down the side of the ship, submerging under the waves. The wizard got to his feet.

"It will be back."

Sam, puffed with pride at inflicting injury on the beast, questioned the wizard's judgement.

"It's no ordinary creature - I detect Darkhan in this."

Sam looked to Martin for moral support - none came.

"All of you, go below deck. I need to be with this monster: alone."

They protested.

"I insist. Go below. Now."

The children were reluctant to leave their old friend to face danger without them.

"Please. Go below."

One by one, the children disappeared through the main deck hatch. Kalbe looked up and saw a red glow reflected in the clouds of the dusk sky which caught in the highlights of his long grey hair. 'It was a long time ago', he thought as he remembered that night when the red glow was not caused by the setting sun but by the fires from the village of Sarat. Darkhan's work. As he remembered Martin's story, a tear welled up and, for a moment, he was not sure that he could contain it. Martin and Kate, unused to obedience of any kind, crept on deck to shadow Kalbe. Just then a loud and intense screeching came from behind the wizard. The ship shook as the monster rose out of the sea. He turned and saw that the sea serpent had out-flanked him. Already it was set to snap him up. For a brief moment he thought that he could detect a smile flit across the monster's blood-smeared mouth. As the creature's head neared the deck, he stood motionless. The serpent's jaws opened wide. He stood his ground. It's head moved closer. Then a flash of intense blue light struck it. The serpent reared as it squealed and then dived for the wizard. Kalbe stood no chance. The monster sucked up the wizard into its cavernous mouth and closed its thin reptilian lips.

Martin and Kate could not believe what had happened. Their protector and friend was dead. They had done their best to help him but their meagre, wizards skills had failed to save the Kalbe. They watched, paralysed, as the serpent slid down the side of the ship. As its head came level with the deck, they were deafened by a ferocious explosion. At once the air was full of malodorous bits of flesh. It was with some surprise and much delight that the form of Kalbe shot across the deck and came to rest at their feet. Instantly the wizard fumed.

"What did you think you were doing? You nearly got me killed. I told you to go below. Why don't you do as you are told!"

"We were only trying to help."

"Help? My plan was to entice that thing as near to me as was possible and then give it one good shot of my power right into its open mouth. And what do you do? You provoke it. And I end up in its mouth: thankfully in one piece, no thanks to you. It's amazing I'm still alive."

Kate and Martin, realising their mistake and knowing that they had not fully trusted Kalbe's command, could do nothing more than look at the wooden deck which was scattered with the remains of the dead serpent's head. The wizard, regaining his breath, calmed down and looked at the two children.

"I know you meant well. And in other circumstances, your actions might well have saved me from an untimely death. In this case, however, I gave you strict instructions and I -"

The wizard's voice trailed off as he put his arms around the children and hugged them. He suppressed a tear. Some day he would have tears for ordinary occasions but not now.
Chapter 28

FROM THE LEGEND OF DARKHAN: Desperate to maintain his authority, Darkhan marched his armies to the capital of Ozak, the Island Council having earlier rejected his command to subjugate themselves to his will

Kalbe settled back in his chair for the night: Cat was already in his lap. He closed his eyes and drifted into sleep. It was with some surprise that he soon found himself awake. He tried to get out of his chair but could not. And where was Cat? At the very edge of audibility, a pleasant sound, like muted wind chimes, caught his attention. The sound grew louder and , as it did, it became increasingly discordant - soon the cabin was filled with the dissonant sound of disagreeable clanging. It's pitch lowered as it became more intense. He struggled to shield his ears - the noise increased in intensity and now he could feel the low frequencies invade his body. The whole cabin shook to the bass tones which seemed to come from the air around him. Then silence. His hearing did not recover but rather filled his head with a muted intermittent hissing. There, in from of him, he saw the familiar twisting smoke which transformed itself into the shape of a serpent. When the smoke cleared, he found himself looking upon the image of Darkhan: a man of small stature with a small trickle of blood that ran from his mouth. He could not move.

"You'll not get your hands on me again, old wizard."

Darkhan's speech was indistinct, his lips were blood red and the trickle of blood had turned into a stream: why was taking such a risk to seek him out? Kalbe smiled.

"Why do you sit, smiling!"

Kalbe continued to smile.

"Answer me!"

Darkhan's features were almost entirely covered in bright red blood. Kalbe smiled once again and took his time to reply.

"I'm smiling because of a comment a dear friend of mine once made to me. At the time it annoyed me but now I regard it with fondness."

Darkhan seethed as the wizard took his time to get to the point.

"This friend said: 'Cat got your tongue?' But it wasn't a cat in your case, Darkhan?"

Darkhan's bloody mouth moved without sound - just brilliant red blood which exploded into the cabin. Wispy smoke grew and the image of Darkhan faded, leaving behind the faint but distinct sound of quiet wind chimes.

Kalbe woke to find Cat chasing around after a carved wooden ball whose hollow centre contained several chiming bars.
Chapter 29

As the commandeered Darkhan ship sailed along the coast of the Arid Lands, the sky became blue and cloudless. The air grew dry and the temperature soared. The ship hugged the sand dune coastline, taking advantage of any off shore winds. On the main deck, Kalbe and Phatslaf played chess under a makeshift awning which provided protection from against the midday sun. The wizard thought for a while, smiled and moved his queen.

"Mate in three, I think."

Phatslaf laid his king on its side.

Kalbe sat back and enjoyed the warmth which surrounded his ancient body: he closed his eyes as the ship shuddered and ground to a halt. Phatslaf raced to the wheel deck to see what was happening. It was not long before he returned.

"Our Darkhan crew have stranded us good and fast on a sand bank and there's no getting off."

"How far are we from El Kharga?"

"We should be able to reach the village in less than twelve hours along the coast dunes. We'll set off after sunset - it'll be easier in the cool of the night. I've told the young ones to ready the provisions."

*

They travelled through the night: Phatslaf with Kalbe at his side, leading the children. Morning approached and the weak light of the rising sun began to dispel the starshine as they trudged along the undulating sandy ridges. Phatslaf took the wizard by the arm and turned him so that they were facing each other.

"You call me 'fat one' as I call you 'old one' - it is part of our banter. But from now on you must call me by my name. Use no other. Trust me, my friend."

"Look! On the next ridge - men coming towards us." Kate shouted.

"It's all right, Kalbe. Leave this to me."

In the distance a group of about fifty men ran towards them. Both men waited. When they arrived they fell on their faces, except for one who wielded a club and instructed the strangers to fall down in the sand. Phatslaf called to him.

"All will bow down, apart from this man at my side. His name is Kalbe and in my presence he will remain upright. From this day on, he is given The Right to Stand - the decree is made."

Phatslaf lowered his voice and spoke to the wizard.

"Please tell your friends to lie face down in the sand. I will not be held responsible for what happens if they do not."

Kate was the last to drop to her knees and lie prostrate. Phatslaf waved an arm.

"You may rise."

Kalbe studied his friend and wondered who he was. Phatslaf turned to the children.

"I must apologise for this little custom of my people."

He said ' _my_ people' _My_ people. Who was this man? Before Kalbe considered further, Phatslaf caught him by the arm to lead him across the dunes.

*

The small fishing village of El Kharga became a brief stopping place - there was just time for a hasty, simple breakfast before Kalbe and the children climbed onto the ornate cart that had been provided for their journey to the desert city of Kharga. Phatslaf emerged from the nearby whitewashed hut.

"What do you think, my friends?"

Martin could hardly contain his laughter as he gazed upon the heap of a man who was now wearing a white robe with a gold girdle which only served to emphasise his enormous girth. It was the unusual headdress that tipped Martin over the edge into uncontrollable laughter. Phatslaf's head was covered by a pure white cloth which was gathered up in a bundle secured by a gold band. He got into the cart and sat beside the wizard.

"That's children for you. Why do you put up with them?"

The cart moved forward along the desert road towards Kharga city.

*

By the time the cart came within view of the desert city, all its passengers had adopted the desert way of dressing apart from Kalbe who still clung to his simple cloak and hood which, he thought, provided as much protection against the fierce sun as the loose fitting cotton gowns and long, flowing head pieces that the children were wearing. As the cart neared the city, varied structures rose out of the barren desert, covered in a pink glow. They drew closer and the outer defensive walls grew red as the sun began to sink below the horizon. The cart approached the main gate.

"Who's there?" challenged the guard.

"Open the gate!"

The doors opened as the guards prostrated themselves. The cart drove through as the horses took the strain; they climbed the steep cobbled slope and slogged on until they reached ornate gilded gates which swung open - they proceeded through. The gates slammed shut behind them. Eventually they came to a halt outside the entrance to a grand and imposing building. Phatslaf made a point of helping down each one of his friends, even though willing servants were on hand. It was only the wizard who refused help.

"What's the matter, old one?"

Without replying, Kalbe turned his back and followed the children. Phatslaf pulled off his headdress and threw it into the well-kept palace gardens. No doubt now it was stuck in a palatial bush. The though amused him and he burst out laughing.

*

Early next morning, just before the sun rose, Kalbe struggled to extricate himself from the mountainous heap of bed clothes that had wrapped themselves around his body during the night. He cursed the opulence of the soft bed and the soft sheets with their finely embroidered covers.

"A fine way to treat a guest. Lure him into bed and then try to smother him."

As he finally managed to disentangle himself, Cat came to him.

"Don't be ungrateful, my worthy one."

"And you can keep your wet nose out of it. I can't be doing with all this easy living: I'm not used to it. I'd rather have a hard, wooden chair to sleep in. Sheer extravagance. You could fit ten of my kitchens into this space."

Cat looked at his master and meowed.

"You are getting hungry - we'll have to see if we can find whether this grand place has anything so humble as a kitchen."

He closed the door as quietly as the large ornamental lock would allow and stood in the cavernous corridor, wondering in which direction he should go.

"My master, I can smell good smells."

He motioned to Cat to follow the trail. After a series of long corridors and descending flights of stairs he found himself at the brink of a room full of wonderful aromas. Phatslaf entered.

"A good day to you all."

All activity ceased as Kalbe was confronted by the sight of prostrate servants.

"You may carry on with your work."

The kitchen bustled once again as Phatslaf sat Kalbe at a table.

"Good morning, old one - slept well?"

Kalbe was mute as Phatslaf rushed on.

"Thought so - best beds in the world. Now to explain: that Right of Standing which you received yesterday is not just ceremonial but is a practical gift. In the eyes of my people, you are no different from me. What you say is what I say."

"I am honoured, my friend."

A freshly baked loaf was put on the table with enough butter and cheese to serve an army. The breakfast was consumed in silence. Kalbe sat back in his chair and enjoyed a feeling of fullness.

"In a while I'll take you on a tour of the palace."

A servant filled the empty bowls with bitter ale.

*

The palace was full of huge rooms and vast courtyards: they all blurred in Kalbe's mind as he followed his host around the immense palace. When they came to a disused courtyard, Kalbe's attention was captured: he saw a huge mound of thin hides that had been sewn together.

"What have we here?"

"A foolish notion, my friend. One of my many inventions. It didn't work. Don't laugh, old one, but I thought it might take to the skies."

The wizard turned to Phatslaf with a look that was serious.

"On what principle?"

Phatslaf knew Kalbe was not teasing him and replied.

"Hot air. Hot air rises. I thought that a bag filled with hot air would lift into the sky. My models worked but not the real thing. I think the skins were too heavy, even though they are wafer-thin."

The wizard crouched down to examine the skins. They could not have been lighter.

"What provided the hot air?"

"A fire in a metal container, suspended above a reed basket which was tethered to the bag."

"Then the bag did not lift off?"

"It did - it lifted momentarily and then it dropped and collapsed completely. What you see now is the deflated remains of my experiment."

Kalbe pawed over the wreckage, scrutinising the seams for damage signs.

*

Sam turned to Martin and threw his arms in the air.

"These people don't know what they are doing."

The wind driven desert sand blew into the boys' eyes and blinded them temporarily. The massed ranks of the Kharga elite troops stood without moving as the sand engulfed them. A commander left his battalion.

"You boys - wrap your headgear over your faces."

He helped them to adjust their _Hidaw'was._

"You'd best keep them like this until the wind dies down."

The commander turned his back on the wind, the boys followed his example. Sam thanked the officer and then forgot his manners.

"Your troops haven't a clue how to fight. I've been training them for days and they are no further forward than when we began."

The commander said nothing and put the boy's apparent arrogance down to his inexperience and youthful disregard for anyone else's opinion apart from his own. The commander watched as the sand whipped up into eddying swirls. Sam, annoyed by the officer's lack of response, turned to him and pulled his _Hidaw'was_ aside.

"If you had done that in deep desert, you would now be dead."

"And how exactly would you have done that?"

The officer called out a command in his archaic tongue.

"Nem feesa! Mumfid el aw'as!"

One of his troops came running and knelt at his feet, offering up a club. Martin looked at the weapon whose surface was pitted and marked with a lifetime's use. He suspected that the dark rust stained marks must be dried blood. The commander picked up the club in both hands.

"Do you wish to challenge me, boy? Your shining sword against this old club?"

Martin tried to intervene but his words were brushed aside as the fledgling Shandar felt his honour was more important than commonsense. Sam drew his sword. The two combatants started to circle each other. Sam was the first to make a move; he struck out with his sword which narrowly missed his opponent as he tumbled into the sand. The Shandar, sensing his adversary had been wrong footed and was off balance, lunged, only to find that his sword buried itself in the sand. While Sam pulled his sword out of the sand, the commander got to his feet and aimed a blow at Sam's head. In his efforts to free his sword, Sam was a moving target. The club only managed to strike him obliquely. Even so the force of the glancing blow caused him to stagger and fall. Both sword and Shandar lay side by side. The commander seized his opportunity and swung the club down on the prone figure at his feet. It was only as the club's blurring image neared him that Sam was able to roll out of its way. He felt the vibrations as it crashed into the sand. Sam jumped up and seized his sword. In that time the commander was swinging his club. For a while, the two circled each other, looking for a weakness in each other's defence. This time, it was the commander who made the first move. He struck out at Sam's head and missed by a wide margin, losing his balance. Sam moved in with a sword stroke to the commander's left arm. The sword struck home. The sand turned red as copious quantities of his blood gushed from the wound. Martin shouted to Sam, telling him to stop but there was no stopping a Shandar once he had let blood.. Sam went in for the kill, bringing his sword down for the last time. Though the sword's intended trajectory ended at the commander's neck, the Shandar's weapon did not complete its full journey but rather ended up in an outstretched club and embedded itself in the ancient wood. The Shandar was defenceless. The commander got to his feet, holding the club with the sword attached. Without pause, the officer swung the club at Sam - its impact was heard by the troops. As the club hit the Shandar's arm, the sword shot into the air and rotated like a glittering star. It came to rest close to the feet of Phatslaf and Kalbe as they walked through the sand. The wizard tutted while Phatslaf just shook his head in disbelief.
Chapter 30

_FROM THE DIARIES OF KALBE MAZAAR: The incident on the desert training ground left Sam and the commander unfit to go on the expedition to Darkhan's appropriated fortress named Hanark which now became the newly named capital of Ozak. Phatslaf and I decided that the troops would be led by the commander's first officer, aided by Martin, Kate and Sarah. Their use of wizard power and_ _the look_ _must give the soldiers an edge - hopefully. I regret not going with them and should have but then I needed to see that Sam recovered._

Two weeks had passed since Phatslaf's forces had left to board the captured Darkhan ship near El Kharga. Its unorthodox course had been plotted by Kalbe: they would round the north of Ozak again the prevailing winds and then tack down the east coast until they made land fall north of the Hanark delta.

As the days passed, Phatslaf grew increasingly impatient.

"How can we catch up with them now? We should have gone with them. What are we doing here like a couple of old maids?"

Phatslaf drummed his fingers on the kitchen table as Kalbe looked at his empty bowl.

"Would you have any of that excellent bitter brew to hand?"

Phatslaf nearly exploded but, instead, filled Kalbe's bowl. The wizard sipped.

"Surely, you'll join me?"

The fat one poured himself a drink.

"The time has come, my friend. By my calculations, your forces are only two days away from Hanark and we need to move swiftly."

Phatslaf gulped down his drink and poured himself another.

"And how are we to get to Hanark in two days?"

"Your hot air bag."

"But it doesn't work."

"It didn't but it will - it'll just take the breath of a wizard and I've got plenty of that."

Phatslaf laughed and slapped Kalbe on the back.

*

The hot air bag rose silently into the darkening sky with its reed basket hanging below. Kalbe and his friend watched the diminishing city fade as Sam and the commander supported each other. The wizard and Phatslaf sat down and made themselves comfortable in the confined space as two bowls of ale were poured out.

"Here's to success, fat one."

"I hope you've realised that this contraption of mine has no means of steering, old one."

"Such a simple thing - I have taken care of that. Do you doubt me?"

"I have complete faith in your ability but where are we going to meet my army?"

"We will not be meeting up with your army."

Phatslaf nearly choked as the ale ended up entering his lungs rather than his stomach. And then he knew. The old fool was going to land this thing, with him in it, right on top of Darkhan.

"If you wish, we can all return to your palatial city."

Phatslaf turned his head away slightly while keeping eye contact.

"I'll not let you down, old one. I know you have thought this through."

_I really hope you have_ thought the fat one.

As the hot air filled bag sailed across the desert plain towards the Tibor mountains, the two men drank the bitter ale and ate large amounts of cheese.

As the sun rose, the sky began to regain some of the blue that had been robbed by the night. They glided silently to the east. Though it was two hours after sunrise, no direct sunlight hit the basket to alert the occupants that another day had dawned. It was only when the basket snagged on an outcrop of rock that the ensuing jolt brought its passengers alive. Kalbe was the first to stand. He cursed aloud. They were held fast by a protruding rock ledge. He sent more hot air into the bag but it failed to rise. The result was a stomach churning noise of stretching from the bag's fabric of animal skins - a failure of one of the joins would mean the whole thing could fall to the rocks below. Kalbe cooled the air in the bag which collapsed, leaving the basket stuck fast - then he sent a little more hot air into the bag which stabilised both bag and basket.

"Someone needs to get out and free it from the rocks."

He leant over the side and doubted whether Phatslaf could even get out of the basket unaided and he knew he could not leave as the bag would immediately deflate without his breath. Cat weaved in and out of his legs. Absentmindedly, he picked him up and cradled him in his arms.

"I will go down and free the basket, my master."

Kalbe smiled with concern.

"Yes. Release the basket and then make sure you rejoin us."

Without further thought, he threw Cat onto the rocks below: it landed on all fours and got to work. After awhile, to Kalbe's relief, the basket moved and then swung free from its constraints. He watched as he saw Cat jump up towards the ascending basket. The claws of his two front paws caught in the reed work and for a while Cat ascended with the basket until the effort of clinging on was too much for him. Cat dropped onto the rocks below. Kalbe looked down and saw that his companion was still in one piece. Cat's eyes misted over as he raised a paw and shook it slowly and through his tears, he saw his master drift away over the tops of the Tibor mountains. Kalbe felt a sense of grief as Cat disappeared from sight. Not one but two tears welled up in the wizard's eyes. He fought them off as he had never done before. Those tears, he thought, should be the first that Darkhan encounters. The hot air bag soared over the mountains and made its way southwards towards the delta city of Hanark.
Chapter 31

Kate stood outside of the Commander's tent.

"Why won't he speak to me?"

Martin shook his head and decided to get Sarah. By the time she arrived, Kate was almost beside herself with anger.

"You'll have to tell that fool of a soldier. Use _the look_. He must not move his troops forward tomorrow."

"But why?"

"Because Kalbe instructed him to remain camped here until there was a sign from him."

Martin backed up Kate, "It may sound daft but that's what Kalbe said and I trust him."

Kate told Sarah about Kalbe's fear that the newly appointed Commander might be headstrong and reckless.

"I will use _the look_ but only to confirm what you have said and for him to explain his actions. Nothing more."

"Agreed."

The Commander looked surprised as the three children entered his tent.

"I told you not to pester me. Now leave."

Kate took exception to his imperious tone. _The insecure rule by naked certainty and bluster_.

"Why do you disregard Kalbe's orders?"

"I told you: I am in charge and I have made a tactical decision. There is no more to be said."

The officer pointed his finger. No one moved.

Sarah used _the look_.

"You may sit down, Commander."

The bemused man sat on the edge of his canvas chair as the children circled him.

"Why have you gone against the wizard's instructions?"

"I wish I could carry them out but the situation has changed. Darkhan troops are massing to the south of our camp. I am sure they intend to attack soon after first light: we could try to fend them off but that would be a mistake. We could loose ten times more men by doing that than if we took the initiative and attacked them."

The spell of _the look_ ended.

"I told you not to pester me. Now leave."

Once outside, Kate looked at Martin.

"We'll have to be ready for battle tomorrow. Let's get a good night's sleep - we'll need our strength."

She looked up into the night sky and saw nothing but fine pin-pricks of sharp light. She just hoped Kalbe was on his way. In her heart of hearts she knew that the Commander was right. Tomorrow she would show him what mere children were made of.

*

The night passed slowly for Kalbe as he remembered his furry companion; he pulled his cloak around him as he felt the temperature drop and as he fell asleep his thoughts turned to Darkhan and the struggle that lay ahead. Phatslaf was content to snore loudly as the hot air bag transported them further south. It was Phatslaf who woke his unconscious companion by tapping him with his foot. The fat one was already standing and looking out of the basket towards the south as Kalbe stirred himself.

"The sun has been up a long time and I can see no sign of Hanark - nothing of the delta."

Kalbe lost no time in getting up and joining his friend - he noted the sun's elevation and then screwed up his eyes so that his failing eyesight gained more definition as he scanned the southern horizon.

"I don't understand it. By now we should have been in sight of Hanark. Something has happened."

He looked up into the bag and saw that nothing was amiss. He puzzled. Then he noticed the strong wind that blew from the south. He turned to Phatslaf.

"Was this wind blowing when you woke?"

"It was the first thing I noticed."

"I very much think that our enemy wishes to delay us. This southerly wind has slowed our progress."

"Can you do anything about it, my friend?"

In response the wizard raised his hand and then held out his little finger. The bag lurched forward so fast that Phatslaf had to cling onto the basket to prevent himself from being flung out.

"I'm impressed, old one. But give me due warning before you do that again."

Phatslaf laughed and mimicked the wizard as he held aloft his hand and slowly erected his little finger.

"You must show me how to that one day."

Just before noon Sam called out.

"I can see it. I can see the city!"

And sure enough Hanark came into sight. Both men followed Sam's gaze until they could make out the delta city which Darkhan had made his stronghold. Kalbe raised his little finger once more and the bag leaped forward. Soon they found themselves at the edge of the city. As he looked into the distance, Kalbe was dismayed to see that fighting was already taking place despite what he had said to the Commander.

"They were to await our arrival. I have not yet confronted Darkhan. The damage is done and we must go on to see what we can salvage from this mess. The sooner we set down, the better. I must challenge Darkhan face to face."

Phatslaf shuddered at the prospect.
Chapter 32

FROM THE LEGEND OF DARKHAN: The Rule of Darkhan was proclaimed in the absence of the Council of Ozak. The Rule of Darkhan was given authority by means of force and was not regarded by the people as legitimate.

An Offal bird, flew towards the silently moving air bag and only just in time, did it avoid a collision by folding its wings to drop like a stone towards the earth. A second later, it unfurled its wings and effortlessly continued its surveillance of the scene beneath. The hungry bird made several circuits of the fighting arena before it circled lower. With its sharp eyes, it could see where it could feast and it dropped lower: its greedy eyes roving over the dead and dying. It dived and landed gracefully on the corpse of a Darkhan soldier - it inched its way up the bloody chest, until it was within striking distance of his face. The bird pecked at the man's eyes. Having consumed one, it extracted the other and held it in its beak. The Offal bird tilted its head to the sky and swallowed: one eye joined the other. Martin, Kate and Sarah moved slowly. They had no instructions: the Commander and his army had moved while they were still asleep and the first they knew of the battle was when they heard the sounds of fighting. Kate and Martin had kitted themselves out in the Shandar way, carrying battle swords. As they made their passage through the carnage, Martin caught movement in his periphery vision. He turned to look. It was an Offal bird. The sight made his blood boil. The memory of his mother and the oath he swore made him lift the sword a little, and with consummate ease, he decapitated the avaricious bird.

"Satisfied are you?"

Martin was surprised at her question.

"You saw what that thing was doing - what did you want me to do?"

Kate unsheathed her sword and pointed at the eyeless soldier.

"He wasn't the person who killed your mother."

She moved the sword, so that it rested on the breast of the headless Offal bird.

"And this wasn't the bird which once hovered over our village. You are just chasing ghosts. The real work needs to be done here and now."

Just as she finished speaking, the noise of battle grew louder as a wave of Darkhan's troops surged towards them.

"Now we'll show that Commander what we are made of. Get ready!"

Kate and Martin stood back while Sarah watched over them, Shandar sword at the ready. Her power of _the look_ was ready to be used at a moment's notice. Death to the enemy was their single purpose. There would be no surrender. Black or white. Life or death. They no longer feared death - they pledged their lives in an act of revenge. In the confusion of battle, the Commander fell near Martin and hot on his heels was a Darkhan soldier who raised his sword. A blue pulsating flash paralysed the soldier who froze to the spot. His severed head landed beside the Commander. Sarah wiped the blade on the dead man's tunic and returned to her place beside Martin and Kate. Within minutes, a number of soldiers had been paralysed and then been swiftly dispatched by Shandar swords. The children stood their ground and killed and killed. The pile of dead bodies and severed heads grew around them. The fighting continued. Phatslaf's club-wielding army was more than a match for the slower but more disciplined sword carrying Darkhan soldiers. By afternoon the Darkhan army was in retreat. Even so, Martin and Kate were still intent on killing any enemy soldier who came their way - from one or the other a pulse of shocking blue light would burst upon a retreating soldier to render him helpless while Sarah struck out with her sword. The slaughter went on until the pile of dead bodies had risen so high that it hid the children in a hollow formed by the makings of their own blood lust. Sarah put down her sword and made her way up the pile of dead bodies. Kate and Martin looked at each other. Had they avenged the deaths of their families and friends? Had this killing field given them peace? They were exhausted and could not cope with such questions. Martin hugged Kate as they sank into the bloody mud of the hollow.
Chapter 33

Phatslaf leant over the side of the basket and shouted instructions to Kalbe as the hot air bag descended.

"Too fast. Slow down."

Kalbe raised his arm.

"That's better. Keep it like that."

The basket swayed gently as it continued on its downward path towards the small square in from of the council chamber.

"That's good. Only a little way to go. Just keep it like that."

Kalbe, curious as ever, peeked over the side and instantly lost his concentration - the basket plunged to the ground. Seconds later, it landed and spilled out its four occupants. The cry of alarm which welled up in Phatslaf's throat was not given voice; the basket hit the earth with such force that it knocked the wind out of him. As the deflating bag began to collect on top of the empty basket, Kalbe got to his feet. Sam and the Commander lay where they fell. Phatslaf grunted loudly as he heaved himself up.

"Are you all right, fat one?"

Phatslaf took in a deep breath and then shot one of his most outrageous winks at the wizard. Kalbe relieved, turned his attention to the two casualties; he knelt beside them and muttered the binding spell of healing then he spoke in serious tones.

"I'm relying on you, my friend. You must do it when I give you the word."

"I'll not fail you."

Phatslaf picked up Sam's Shandar sword.

"It's time we met with our enemy. He will be expecting us."

The two men stood before the great doors of the Council Chamber of Ozak. On the steps, leading to the entrance, were many dead bodies. They threaded their way through the bloody corpses until they were outside the metal clad gates. Without a sound, they opened. They walked into the near black interior. The gates closed. _The arena is ready_ thought Kalbe as his eyes grew accustomed to the gloom. The chamber was lit by a solitary torch which cast a baleful light. Phatslaf remained at the entrance while Kalbe walked into the chamber's depths. The torch flickered, died down, went out and then danced back into life. _Games again_. Kalbe breathed easily and walked steadily to the centre of the room. The light once again died down. Its light was just a glimmer, illuminating nothing but itself. He stood still. The light returned as the torch rekindled itself. _Games. Just Games_. He was tempted to provoke Darkhan but dismissed the idea. _No doubt that is what he would like me to do. I shall disappoint him._ The light increased, making the chamber a place of black shadows. Conscious of his every movement, he made his way deeper into the dark. The torch leaped up as if recognising him and died yet again. In the deepest and darkest recesses, he thought he could detect movement. When he looked again his eyes told him otherwise. _Cat and mouse_. No doubt Darkhan thought he was the cat. The light ebbed as he saw the shape of a large serpent which wended its way directly towards him. Then it was gone _. More games_. For a brief moment the flames of the torch shot up like an incandescent firework and blinded him. By the time he had partially recovered his sight, he was aware of a shape travelling towards him at great speed. It leaped from the floor and, with its forward momentum, knocked him off his feet. Before he could regain his senses, the thing had a grip on his neck and was intent on severing his main artery. As the creature's teeth increased their hold on his neck, it shook its head from side to side. Dazed and knowing the danger he faced, he grasped it with both hands. The animal stopped moving. The light grew and he looked at the wolf. It snarled, showing its blood stained teeth. Kalbe spoke.

"Darkhan."

The animal growled.

"Nahkrad."

The wizard smiled.

"No. Darkhan."

The wolf bared its crimson teeth as Kalbe held it tight.

"Now I have you. There's no escape."

The wolf tried to free itself but Kalbe tightened his grip until he thought the animal would explode. Suddenly the furry beast shrunk and became a slimy, slithering creature. It wrapped itself around his body and started to squeeze the life out of him. Its loud hissing gave impetus to the wizard who was able to release an arm. His hand searched frantically in the folds of his cloak for the leaves he had been keeping for this very moment. There they were. He placed the Hislow leaves in his mouth. The taste of the herb was just abhorrent to him as the first time he had eaten them as a young child. As the drug took effect, the serpent reared its head and hissed loudly. Kalbe hugged the snake as it tried to escape from him. Now he was one with Darkhan. He experienced Darkhan's pain and his rejection as a child - an unloved child. Darkhan's suffering was now his. A tear welled up in his eye and he made no attempt to stop it from falling on his enemy. It landed on Darkhan in a glow of purple haze. He cradled Darkhan in his arms. More tears fell onto Darkhan's upturned face. Kalbe could hardly contain his grief as he felt his enemy's pain and confusion. Never before had he identified so closely with anyone. Kalbe helped Darkhan to his feet and supported him while they made their way to the entrance of the Council Chamber. Phatslaf stood to one side as he watched the two wizards approach. The bright sunlight enveloped them as they stood at the top of the steps. Phatslaf followed them. The wizard nodded to Phatslaf who raised an eyebrow.

"Do you mean now?"

"Now!"

The Shandar sword swung. Swiftly and silently the ancient blade passed through Darkhan's neck and emerged from the other side without stain. Darkhan stared at Kalbe \- his mouth opened and then closed. He swayed and fell. His decapitated head rolled down the steps while his body fell at the wizard's feet, spurting blood.

The small crowd in the square below cheered wildly as Darkhan's bloody head bounced towards them. One of the soldiers picked it up and stuck it on a captured Darkhan spear and held it aloft. With eyes wide open, Darkhan's retina recorded the sights of defeat and with a final burst of electrical impulse his optic nerves let his dying brain know that his enemy triumphed.

In the crowd, Martin saw a spear with Darkhan's head dripping blood onto the attached vermillion flag. Now the vow which he had taken over his dead mother's body had been fulfilled. He smiled as he watched the flag intensify in hue. Blood deserved blood. Kate turned away and made her way to the wizard.

"Are you ashamed of what you have done, Kalbe?"

"By no means. This one death will bring peace to a whole island."

Martin joined them as Kalbe continued to speak.

"Darkhan had to die. And his death was brought about by my unconditional love for him. It was not easy for me - to then betray that love. It is something that I will have to live with - deception of the cruellest kind. But it had to done."

Kate stared at him - challenging him. Kalbe spoke softly.

"Look at you two: your blood stained clothes. Do you feel happiness now that you have been turned into butchers?"

Kate looked at her clothes and saw the rust of dried blood. Martin could contain his anger no longer.

"My mother died at the hands of Darkhan's soldiers!"

Martin knelt down and sobbed. Kate put her arm around him. Phatslaf approached the wizard and stood by him.

"You know, my friend, you should not be too harsh - they've had a hard life. This is the time when they need you most."

Kalbe knelt down and put his hands on Martin's and Kate's shoulders.
Chapter 34

Near to dawn the wizard left his tent and walked out into the night. Under the stars he thought about Cat and felt a tear come to his eye. Now that Darkhan was no more, he felt no urge to retrain it: it dropped like the morning dew and splashed against a small rock.

"My most esteemed master calls me and I obey. I am and have always been your truly devoted servant. Your wish, as they say, is my command. My most noble lord has called me back from the mountains. My life is dedicated to you, my illustrious owner."

"Be quiet, Cat. Either you contain your vocabulary or I will send you back to the mountains."

Cat said no more.

*

The sun rose but it was not the increasing intensity of light that woke Kate but rather the gentle sounds of rustling. She drew her sword. A youthful face appeared above her.

"Don't be alarmed - I mean you no harm."

"Don't worry, my friend, if I thought you meant me harm I would have struck you down before now. What do you want?"

"I come with a message from the Ozak Council: I am instructed to command you to appear before them at noon today."

The messenger looked down at the boy who was still asleep.

"He has the same command. Noon today."

The messenger left.

*

The Ozak Council chamber was full of light: all the windows had been cleared of Darkhan's makeshift blinds. A little before noon the councillors assembled. Their leader took his place in the grand, ornate, carved wooden chair. The chamber was silent. The main doors opened and Kate and Martin walked into the centre of the enormous assembly hall. The leader stood.

"This Council is in special session."

And then Martin stared at his mother and brushed the dust from her forehead and kissed her gently. He pulled out the vermillion flag from his pocket and let his tears flow.

*

"You should be in there, old one \- the Council summoned you."

"You were also called to attend, fat one, but I notice you are here rather than in there. To tell you true, I'm not interested in their frippery and flattering words."

"My thoughts exactly - what need have I of honours? But you are different - you have done the Council some good service."

"What I did, I did because I had no other choice. I did what I had to do guided by my conscience. That's all. My wish now is to return to my home at the Mazaar well. You know, my friend, the true worth of a person lies in their heart and soul. Without a good heart, titles and land are like wind chimes on a windless day."

Phatslaf nodded and smiled as Cat weaved in and out of the wizard's legs. Kalbe planned his route back to his hut - the worst part would be the boat trip up the Elzak river, against the flow, to Sarat. Then it would be relatively easy: a short trip through the forest. He smiled and imagined himself walking up the path to his hut. How long was it since he left?

"I wish I could use words like you, my friend. Why don't you come back with me to Kharga. I'd enjoy your company. Will you come?"

"I have this irrational desire to see my old home again. Is that strange?"

"I understand, old one."

The two men laughed and then hugged each other.

Martin and Kate, in exuberant mood, left the Council chamber and danced down the steps to greet Kalbe.

"The Council have honoured us and we have been granted lands here. Land of our own. Martin and me. They said we were their saviours."

"I can't believe it. They said they were indebted to us."

"Without us the Rule of Darkhan would have continued. Can you imagine what we felt, Kalbe?"

It was as she said this that she saw the tears in the wizard's eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all. It's good to see you two so happy. But I was wondering: are you coming back with me to the Mazaar well?"

The children looked at each other. Kate then knew her own and Martin's mind. Her eyes filled with tears and without looking at Kalbe, she spoke.

"Since that awful day, Martin and I have been together. He is the only family I have. I'll stay with him."

Kalbe contained his tears and smiled.

"You must do what you think is right. If you change your minds -"

Kate hugged Kalbe. Martin watched from the corner of his eye.

Slowly, Kalbe set off _._

_Involvement leads to trouble. And trouble leads to tears. And you wouldn't want that? Would you?_ It depends, father, especially if you see a red glow reflected in the clouds.

As he walked towards the river, Martin caught him up and blocked his path.

"I'm sorry."

Martin flung his arms around Kalbe and embraced him. The wizard no longer restrained his tears and one dropped onto Martin's shoulder. For a brief moment, the two were enveloped in a warm amber glow. Then it was gone.

"Look after yourself, Kalbe."

"If you need me, I'll be - well you know where."

Martin walked back to Kate. Kalbe felt alone. Cat, aware of his master's mood, followed at a discreet distance.
Chapter 35

FROM THE DIARIES OF KALBE MAZAAR: I have grown weary of keeping this diary. There doesn't seem to be much point now since Kate and Martin are no longer with me. I have decided that today will be my last entry. And heaven help me: as well as being my last word it might also be my last breath - the Elzak boatman insists that we carry on up the river despite the unseasonable winds and rain. I think he is mad though he says he's seen it all before and there's nothing to worry about \- what else can I do? I'm at the mercy of a madman.

Kalbe Mazaar closed his diary and just then a strong gust of wind blew up and the boat lurched to one side and took on water. The boatman threw himself to the other side and stabilised the craft: the wizard and Cat were thrown to the deck and rolled in the ankle deep water. Kalbe picked himself up, retrieved his diary and cursed. Cat outraged by the contact with water, shook himself and grimaced at his master whose mind was elsewhere. The boatman smiled at the old man. Kalbe's heart sank as he realised that the boat would not reach the village of Sarat before dark. Dusk descended early as the boatman rowed on. The heavy rain beat into Kalbe's face: his clothes were sodden. Why had he not taken advantage of the Ozak Council's offer of hospitality? Surely he should have stayed a while and, at the very least, set off early in the morning; then he would have reached Sarat well before night. But he knew - he wanted to be away from the two who he thought had betrayed his kindness - and he also knew that they had to have their own lives - he was disturbed. He spoke to the boatman.

"We need to stop before it gets too dark. Pull over to the river bank."

"It'll cost you - we had not agreed an overnight stop."

"How much?"

"You'll pay no more than a man can ask to cover his expenses. A little way ahead we shall meet the head of the delta; the Elzak river proper continues north. I suggest we stop there - at the Crow Inn."

"Agreed."

The boat altered course as Kalbe's mind wandered, thinking about Kate and Martin. Surely they had not been seduced by lands and honours? Weren't they better than that? He shook his head and felt the mantle of uncertainty fall around his shoulders. He tried to bring all his thoughts to a whole and make sense of them: he could not.

He looked up and, as he did so, caught the full blast of a particularly strong gust of wind. The boat rocked. He grabbed the sides. Without a pause, a second, much stronger gust hit the boat with enormous force. For a spilt second the vessel looked as it could remain upright but then it rolled over, spilling out all its passengers. Kalbe, surviving his descent into the freezing black waters of the Elzak, surfaced to see the upturned wooden hull a good ten metres away from him; the east shore was too far away to reach. He started to swim towards the boat with the determination of a dying man but then he felt very old, very tired and his tears were deep within him - they would never escape his eyes again. Kalbe felt only contentment as he slipped under the waves.

