## **Contents**

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

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 Excerpt from 'The Lay of Lif'

 1

SWORDS AND SORCERY

The Faerie Tales: Book One

Lee Tozer

Copyright © 2016 Lee Tozer

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction.

www.leetozer.com

For Rhys

1

Late at night Arch-mage Aldwyn Lufgren sat in his high chamber, in Canelorn Castle, the templar castle that guarded the eastern mountain pass into Saxony. Aldwyn sat before the enchanted stone he had placed on the altar. All had been prepared, and all he could do now was trust in his magics.

Aldwyn looked into the stone. It was of black obsidian, with white streaks and spots through the marble, resembling clouds and stars. He gazed long on it, while reciting the ancient Aelven chant. Slowly his vision grew dim, then he saw another world opening up in endless vistas before him. It was a twilight world, over which hung an immense starry sky. Constellations he knew well hung in the infinite darkness. One by one, twelve of the stars grew brighter. As their brightness grew, features of the lands below became clearer - he could see the features of Saxony, its fields and cities. The twelve stars pointed a glowing finger of light down upon twelve separate souls, revealing themselves to Aldwyn. Like fingers of the Gods, the light said to the wizard these twelve have within them what the spell requires.

Coming out of the vision, Aldwyn could still see the landscape and the stars etched in his mind. He smiled; finally it was possible. The ancient spell could still be cast. He knew what he had to do. It was the first vision he had had in years that was not filled with dark foreboding. There was something of the Gods in it, a power he had not felt since before he was the Arch-mage, before darkness had spread through the realms. The stone must truly be from Albion, to possess such power.

Aldwyn put down the stone, and sighed. He wondered if his old body could still withstand the rigors of the path he must now tread. The stars had shone into the far reaches of the realm. Some had shone brightly, others more dimly. Aldwyn knew that some that he sought would be found more easily than others. And now he had a more pressing concern. He would need to explain to the High Lords of the Order his mission before he could set out. That would be a trial of a different kind. Warriors and wizards did not always see eye to eye.

2

Otto walked back from his day at the village school. He walked the well worn track along the hedgerows. Otto was eleven years old, and wore his step-brother Leo's hand-me-downs, stitched and repaired. It was something else Leo thought Otto should be grateful for. He liked to tell Otto that his mother would be forever repairing them now, since Otto stretched everything so much. Leo was tall and skinny, Otto medium sized and stout.

When he got back to the family farm Otto went to the cow sheds. It was his job to muck them out. He didn't really mind. He loved the cows, their warm earthy smell, their low mooing when he entered the stalls. After a difficult lonely day at school it was a relief. Klarinda, his favourite mooed and he rubbed her soft nose, which she rubbed against his hand. He enjoyed the farm work, he knew that the manure he mucked out would be used in the fields to help food grow. He wished that people were as easygoing as these cows. They would move aside when asked with a gentle push, and he felt they appreciated it as he put some more feed in their troughs.

All too soon Leo came in.

"Sorry fatso, gotta leave your cows and come in with us. Time for you to be fed as well. Soon you'll be as big as a cow." He laughed as he walked back out.

"See you later," Otto said quietly to the cows. "Sometimes I wish I was a cow, things would be easier."

After quickly finishing his chores Otto made his way over to the wood and stone cottage of his aunt and uncle. Smoke came from the stone chimney, and the aromas of cooked meat and baked potatoes drifted across the yard.

Inside his step family talked of their day and village business as they ate their meal. Otto reached for the serving spoon and filled a second bowl of stew. He was hungry; chores this morning, then school, then working in the cow-shed. Auntie Neren, Uncle Werther and his cousin Leo were still on their first bowl of stew.

Leo watched Otto reaching out and said, "You are too greedy, Otto. You eat enough for two."

Auntie Neren gave Leo a stern look. Uncle Werther, who was rarely out of the fields in time for dinner, slightly raised one eye in a non-committal way. He shrugged before returning to his stew. Otto hesitated - was he truly greedy? He knew that Leo was often mean to him, hunger took over and he filled up his bowl.

After Otto's father had left him, his Uncle and Aunt had been kind enough to let him live under their roof. Another reason Leo's words stung was that Otto knew that he was fatter than most other kids his age.

For some reason others that ate the same amount stayed skinnier than him. His Auntie told him it was something to do with the stars of his birth. When he heard this Leo laughed and said that Otto must have been born under the sign of the pig. Auntie Neren frowned and rubbed Otto's hair, telling him to pay Leo no mind. Leo didn't mean any harm she said. But Otto was not so sure of that.

After feeding the cows and milking them in the morning, Otto walked to the village school. It was just one building, with three classes for all the children of the village who could attend. They were taught to read and write as well as basic numerical skills. Otto enjoyed the classes, especially those that taught them the culture and history of Saxony. It reminded him that there was a big world out there, past the village of Rallin.

"So class, can anyone tell me the name of our King?"

Otto put up his hand. He liked Mrs Vogel, and he had heard his step-parents mention King Voenheim.

"Our King is not a cow Leo," he heard his brother say loudly behind him. Most of the class laughed at this, and Ott felt himself go red. He put down his hand, wishing he could just disappear.

Later as the other children rushed outside to play, Mrs Vogel called out to Otto.

"Come here Otto."

He nodded and walked over to her. He didn't really like going out for their lunch break. He had no friends to play with, Leo had seen to that.

"You knew the name of our King, didn't you?"

Otto nodded.

"I know how smart you are Otto - I would like everyone else to see it too. You shouldn't pay any attention to your brother's words. Brothers can be mean sometimes."

"He's not really my brother."

"Step-brother then. We can't always choose our family, we just have to make the best of it."

Otto nodded. She knew that she was being kind.

After an unpleasant day at school, Otto was sitting in the cow-shed, leaning against Klarinda, wiping tears from his eyes. Klarinda was one of the oldest and gentlest cows, white with large tan patches and soft warm fur. While Otto sat there, an old man he had never seen before walked into the shed, and looked down at him. He was leaning on a curiously carved staff and wore a long dark woolen cloak. He had pulled its hood back and Otto could see that he had pale gray eyes. His face was heavily wrinkled, and he had a sharp nose and chin and narrow forehead. His white hair hung down either side of his face.

"Hello boy. Are you are caring for that cow? Or is it caring for you?" The man smiled kindly down on him.

Otto looked up at the old man a bit nervously. Uncle Werther had told him to be very wary of strangers. Otto knew that strangers were rarely around their small village.

"Are you looking for Uncle Werther sir?"

He shook his head. "No, actually I think that I am looking for you. I am from the Templar castle in Thuringia. My name is Aldwyn. I am the Arch-mage of the Order."

Otto looked at the old man with wonder. A wizard! Otto had heard of such things at school, but never imagined he would ever see one. He had thought of them, if at all, as something somewhere between myth and history, far out of his ken. He didn't know what to make of any of this, and his tongue clove to his palate. He felt himself tightly gripping Klarinda's thigh. She mooed and shifted her weight.

The old man smiled and patted Klarinda gently. To Otto he said "What is your name?" His gray eyes felt to Otto like they saw everything about him. This made him a bit uncomfortable, but there was no mockery that he could see.

He had been taught to answer grown-ups politely. This broke him out of the spell and he stood up and bowed. "Otto sir, ah Aldwyn," he finished weakly, remembering the wizards kindly words.

Aldwn's smile deepened, and he sat down by Klarinda, and stroked the old cow's side. Klarinda shifted slightly and gave a more contented moo.

"Sit down with me a moment Otto. I have traveled far. I am tired, and this seems a good place for my old bones to rest."

Otto was a bit unsure, as the man was obviously a stranger despite his claims to being a great mage. He probably should run to his Auntie or Uncle in the fields. But the man had such a wise and kindly face, and it seemed so long since someone had wanted to sit with him like this. Something inside of him, a voice he felt he should listen to, said that this man was good, and kind, and could be trusted. So he slowly sat down again, and gave a hesitant smile.

"Tell me a bit about yourself, Otto. I am a student of the road, and of the people I meet. I can tell that you have an interesting story."

Otto shrugged with a nervous smile. "Not really. I live here with my Auntie and Uncle, and my cousin Leo. My own parents are both dead..." Otto looked down.

Aldwyn put his hand gently on Otto's shoulder.

"It sounds like you have had a tough time of it Otto. Life can be cruel, even though we think it shouldn't. But tell me more about you, what are you interested in?"

"Not much really, I like to care for the cows. My cousin Leo is better at school than me. He will take over the farm one day." Otto looked down at his worn leather boots and said in a shaky voice "He says I'm just fat and useless - maybe he's right."

"Appearances can be deceptive. You are a young, growing boy. Some need more room to grow than others - perhaps because they are destined for great things. For now I am interested on what is on the inside. I have come here because rather than being useless, you have something special within you. It is hidden here, in a place and a situation that perhaps has not always treated you well. But it is there just the same. It is that which led me here."

Otto felt confused by his words, wondering what he meant. He looked down, the wizards wise eyes and penetrating gaze, combined with these strange words unsettled him. He knew that he was not special, he was little fat Otto the farmer's orphan boy. The only ones who seemed to enjoy his company were the cows. The only ones that had ever had a kind word to say to him were Auntie Neren and Miss Vogel.

Otto shook his head, and for some reason, tears sprung to his eyes.

Aldwyn smiled, and stood up. "Can you show me to you Uncle and Auntie? There is something I wish to discuss with them."

Klarinda turned her head to look at Otto, and her deep dark eyes seemed to Otto to have all the peace in the world, a peace that always gave him strength. Otto stood up, and stroked Klarinda's head.

"They are in the onion field not far from here, I will take you there."

Otto's Uncle and Auntie were surprised to see the old man with Otto, and completely stunned when he said who he was. Auntie Neren said she would come back to the cottage and boil a kettle while Uncle Werther finished up with his work.

Leo was playing with another short blonde haired boy named Fredrick from the village school. Neren sent Fredrick home, and told Leo to come inside. Leo was slightly annoyed that Freddie had to leave before dinner, but was also curious about the old man. He grudgingly followed her to the kitchen, whispering to her "Who is that mother?"

She whispered as low as she could, "He is from the Order, a high Wizard." Leo's mouth fell open.

Otto knew that Leo liked to play at being a Templar, even if he was looking forward to following in his father's footsteps as a farmer. Werther had told Leo that farmers like him could be called up to fight by the local lord, though it happened rarely. Most Lords had trained troops of their own, and saw little value in their farmers as fighters. Still, as a young man Werther had fought for Lord Hofman in a border war. So he always kept himself prepared, just in case. He hunted with some other farmers occasionally, and lately had begun taking Leo along. He had an old sword hung on the wall, and he would let Leo take it down and swing it outside against trees, as long as he sharpened the blade after.

All of this greatly excited Leo who told Otto that as the man of the house he would be called up by the Lord when there was a war, as his father had once before. He said that Otto would need to stay behind of course and care for the cows.

The adults sat down at the table, and Leo and Otto loaded up the fire - autumn was approaching and the nights were becoming cold. Both of them worked slower than usual as they tried to listen to what Aldwyn was saying.

"I am sure you know that we mages sometimes are led by portents and visions. It happens that I have been doing just that. It has led me here, to your farm far from the Templar's border castle. The High Lord gave me permission to undertake this quest. I am searching the land for twelve children, their locations shown to me in a vision, at least their rough locations. Once I came to this village, it was a combination of the memory of that vision, and my own powers, as weak as they may be these days."

Leo stood there, holding his piece of wood, his mouth open. He had heard Aldwyn'e words, and Otto knew what he was thinking. And now Otto shared his thought. Surely the wizard was here for Otto, who was stronger, smarter, more popular. He felt foolish that he had even considered that the wizard had come for him.

The parents looked both confused and proud.

Uncle Werther said "Leopold is due to help me take over the farm when he finished his schooling. If you take him, I would need decent compensation to hire another."

Aldwyn smiled. "You misunderstand. It is not Leopold I am here for, but Otto."

Werther and Neren's faces froze in surprise, and Leo dropped his block of wood, before looking at them all and running out of the cottage, slamming the door. Neren and Werther looked after him, Neren looking distressed, Werther confused and a bit angry.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Werther said. He looked over at Otto, whose heart was beating fast, and who had dropped his head, quickly putting the remaining wood into the fireplace.

Aldwyn's smile widened.

"Perhaps this will help to convince you?" He took out a large coin purse from his belt and poured a handful of gold coins onto the table. It caught the light of the lamp and sent golden reflections across their faces. Neren and Werther looked at it, entranced for a moment. Neren seemed mesmerized as she gazed on the gold. She licked her lips and looked at Werther. He frowned, a calculating look crept into his eyes, and he picked one up as if to test its weight.

"Templar gold." Werther paused from scrutinizing it, and looked up to also carefully examine the wizard's face. Satisfied with the openness he saw there, as well as with the weight of the gold and the engravings thereon, he said "I can see that you are serious."

Otto had never seen gold coins before. Sometimes he saw Werther and Neren counting out money after market day, but he had only ever seen copper and on rare occasions a silver coin.

Neren smiled at Aldwyn.

"If you want Otto, we will be honored to let you take him, Arch-mage. He has not been that happy here, though we have done our best by the boy."

Otto felt a mixture of emotions at her words. She had certainly not been cruel, and had at least rebuked Leo for the way he spoke to Otto. But she never went so far as to punish him, or do anything that put a stop to it.

"When were you thinking of taking the boy?" Werther asked, one eye still on the coins.

"Tomorrow. That was my purpose in coming here. Could put me up for the night?"

"Of course," said Neren.

"That's settled then. I thank you for your gold, and wish you well of the boy. I knew that he had something in him. He was always good with the cows. And stronger than he looks. Neren, go and bring Leo back in, will you?"

Werther scooped up the gold, and put it in his own small leather coin purse with satisfaction. He looked at Otto, and smiled, almost with affection. Otto wondered at his words, he had never felt that Werther paid him much mind at all. But he would take any kind word, no matter how they came about.

The next day Otto left with Aldwyn, after a rather awkward goodbye to his Auntie, Uncle and cousin. Leo was still in a sulk, and had to be threatened by Werther before he muttered goodbye. Neren gave Otto a tight hug and a teary farewell. Otto felt that she had developed more affection for him since Aldwyn came than he had ever seen before. Werther wished them both well, and told Otto to make their family and Neren's sister proud.

All of that left Otto with his head still spinning as he left. Aldwyn let him quickly run in and give the cows a last farewell, enjoying their warmth and smell and calm affection one last time. Then he ran back out and followed Aldwyn down the cobbled road that led into their village and then further afield, to the town of Grenville where he had been a couple of times to help at the monthly markets. Past that, he knew that other roads and trails led to further parts of the Saxon realm, great citadels and castles, towns and cities. Otto had never been further than Grenville, and his feet tingled with possibility. Of the realm and world beyond Grenville, he only knew what he had read in stories or seen in pictures and illustrations. Forests and seas, mountains and valleys, knights and ladies. These things had seemed simply stories to him until today. Now he would see them for himself. It seemed like a dream. He kept looking at the wizard, to see that he was solid and real, to listen to his staff as it thumped rhythmically on the ground, to hear the songs of birds calling out in the wind, and to smell the dust of the path and earth of the fields they passed. He absorbed the solidness of it all, and felt more reassured. He wanted to remember this day. There was a strange feeling in his chest. He realized that this was happiness.

Aldwyn glanced back at Otto and smiled. Aldwyn told him they would be traveling many days, and hopefully discover another squire along the way, before they returned to the castle of the Order.

"And I think in the next town I may have to look into purchasing some ponies. All this walking is slow and hard on my feet."

Otto nodded, and thought with wonder that on top of everything else he may soon have a pony of his own to ride. Even his uncle and auntie had never owned a pony. As he realized that it was happening, that he was setting off with the mage, perhaps never to see the farm again, a new feeling hit him. He realized he would miss his Aunt Neren, for she had always tried her best to care for him. He might not miss his Uncle as much, as he was a quiet, distant man, and Leo had never wanted to be much more than a bully to him. But they were the only family he had really known. He would mostly miss Klarinda and the rest of the cows, as well as the quiet times he had spent on the farm. If he could have a pony of his own to ride, at least the loss of the cows would not be so bad. And now that he might have a chance to make something of himself, he thought for the first time that he might one day make his real parents proud. He might never see them, and barely remembered anything about them, but the thought was oddly comforting.

3

One of Colin's earliest memories was one that he wished he could forget. It was the day that his life changed forever.

His parents were not wealthy, his father Daryl worked as a butcher. He was forced to retire from the city militia because of an injury to his leg that left him with a pronounced limp. Colin's mother Harriet stayed home, sometimes picking up work mending clothes. Colin always knew when his father was approaching their door late at night, as he could hear the uneven steps coming down the street from the window as he lay in bed. His bed was on one side of the main room, his parents on the other, separated by the dining table, tub and stove. He would feel nervous as his father would usually be drunk, and often argue with his mother before he stumbled off to their bed.

One night Daryl came back even drunker than usual. Soon his parents were arguing - his mother yelling, then crying, then yelling again that his father was always drinking all their money away. Daryl yelled back at her that he was the one who earned all the money, so she should be grateful. The fight got worse until Colin heard a horrible sound, his mother screaming and then a thump, then silence. Colin jumped out of bed to see what had happened. In the light of the lamp he saw his mother slumped against the far wall and his father's ashen face.

"I just pushed her..." he said, looking startled at what he had done.

"Mother!" Colin yelled, and ran to her.

She smiled weakly, her eyes glazing. Daryl pushed him aside, and looked down at her as she lay there. His drunken eyes seemed to clear a bit from their fog, and he swayed on his feet, looking down with concern. He spoke absently to Colin as he gazed at her.

"I warned her, and warned her. She asked for it you know, always testing me."

With these words, he stumbled out of the house, and that was the last Colin ever saw of him. He collapsed onto his mother, crying as she lay beneath him, no longer moving.

Afterwards Colin went to live with his grandmother. She lived in a small cottage of her own, paid for by her late husband's work as a chandler. She was frail and in low health, and spent most of the time in bed, and letting him do as he pleased. Colin left the town school at ten and got a job working on the docks. He mainly cleaned and occasionally helped unload the ships. Children were taken on as they would accept pitifully low wages. He fell in with some of the other children who had also left school. They formed a kind of a gang, roaming the streets at night, getting into fights or other trouble. Colin enjoyed fighting the other local gangs in turf wars with his mates. It was dangerous and exciting. He rarely lost a fight, usually ending them quickly with his opponent lying in the dirt. His fists flashed out in powerful blows that others could barely see before it was too late. He was becoming stronger and stronger, from working the docks and fighting. But even that wasn't as satisfying as it used to be.

Lately he was feeling restless, and it was getting harder and harder to hide the scrapes and bruises from his grandmother. He didn't want to disappoint her, she had taken him in and cared for him. Now however, he felt that it was more him caring for her. Still, she was the only family that he had left. Despite his desire to look after himself and his grandmother with an honest living, he was finding it hard to get up early for work, after late nights out with his mates. Some of his them said he should learn to pick pockets and shake people down like they did, calling it easy money. They couldn't understand why he spent so many hours down at the docks for a few coppers a week. They wanted him to join them in a professional gang. Colin kept putting it off. He felt he wanted to be something more than a criminal. But he didn't know what it was he wanted to be, although he was sure he also didn't want to work at the docks for the rest of his life either. He knew his mother would have wanted something better for him. But he didn't want to lose his mates, and he felt they were starting to grow apart from him. Then one day not long after his thirteenth birthday he had an unusual visitor.

Going down to breakfast he was surprised to see an old man at their table. He was even more surprised to see his grand-mother sitting there and smiling at the old man, chuckling at one of his jokes. She rarely got out of bed these days.

"Good morning Colin. We have just been discussing you. Hilda has been telling me what a good boy you are, although apparently you sometimes stay out later than she would like."

Colin wasn't sure he appreciated the strangers familiar tone.

"Who are you?" he asked with a frown. His grandmother did not have many guests. There was something about the man's peaceful face that irritated him.

"You are right Colin, I should introduce myself. I am Aldwyn, a wandering Templar wizard. I have come to make you an offer."

Colin sat back, wondering what this was all about. Templar? It all seemed like a bad joke.

"I don't know what you are talking about. I have never had anything to do with such things."

"Yes, but would you like to?" Aldwyn raised an eyebrow and looked at Colin. His gaze made Colin feel uncomfortable. He worried the wizard could read his mind, see his inner doubts about himself and the life he was leading.

"I heard that your father left, and that you lost your mother. Now, Hilda tells me, you live with her. She also told me she worries that you now feel responsible for her." His grandmother looked down at her hands, and Colin thought he could see tears swimming in her rheumy eyes.

"Why shouldn't I help my grandmother? And what business is it of yours?." He felt upset, and there was a building anger at this stranger who claimed he was a wizard. Who was he to come in and stir her up like this? He glared at Aldwyn, who only responded with a kind and serious look.

"I can pay for your Grandmother to have hostel care by one of the nearby sisterhoods. Hilda told me that it would be a great relief to her. The only other question is are you wedded to your work at the docks?"

Colin was stunned by his strange words. It was as if the wizard had read his mind, seen his doubt and restlessness.

"Work is work, I guess."

"You look like a strong young lad. And one who has been in a few scrapes and usually comes out on top, I would wager." There was a sparkle in the old man's eyes.

"I can look after myself, if that is what you mean." Colin frowned and crossed his arms. He just wished the old man would make himself plain. The longer all this talk went on, the more uncomfortable it made him. And why would Aldwyn pay for the Sister's to look after his grandmother? It made no sense. He wondered if he should somehow know this old man.

Aldwyn carefully looked Colin over. "I am sure that you could look after yourself. And that is just the quality you would need if you were to come with me."

"With you? And where is that?"

"To Canelorn Castle, as a squire to one of our Knights."

Colin stopped still. He tried to understand the old man's words. A squire to a knight? He thought such things were only for the well-born, or at least for those who had trained for it.

"Why would the Order want me? I don't even know you." Colin said almost angrily. Now he thought he knew what had happened. One of his mates had sent the old man as a lark. If that was the case, he would teach him a lesson, he thought, his fists itching. Whoever it is will soon be laughing out the other side of his face. Playing a joke on him was one thing, but not on his grandmother.

"I told you that I was a wizard, and as such, I follow my own path. A path that led me here, to you. I felt a strong young spirit calling to me, but one that is trapped, confused and hurting. One that holds the potential for true greatness."

Colin listened to Aldwyn's words, feeling them pierce his heart, a heart he shielded with anger and an uncaring manner. He felt that he was being attacked in some strange way.

The way Aldwyn spoke made Colin realize he couldn't be some old fellow his mates might find to send on such a prank. He stared at the old man, wondering what he should say or do. He felt lost.

"Would you allow me to introduce you to someone?" Colin merely frowned wondering what was next, but his grandmother smiled kindly.

"That sounds nice dear."

"I suppose," Colin shrugged.

Aldwyn went to the door and called out. A boy who looked slightly younger than Colin came in. The way the boy stood nervously in the doorway and looked about, it showed he was a bit bashful. He was quite chubby with sandy blond hair and a round nervous face.

"This is Otto, he has accepted my offer. You will be the second squire that the signs have led me to. Otto, this is Colin."

The two boys looked at each other; one nervous, the other confused.

"Hello," Otto said in little more than a whisper.

Colin merely looked at Otto, then back at Aldwyn. He wondered about the wisdom of a wizard that recruited such a squire.

"I hope that you will join us Colin. After this I will be returning to Canelorn Castle before heading out again. Otto has more strength than it appears, perhaps not of the kind which you possess. I am sure that he would be happy for you to join us. At least he won't be alone when we enter the Castle. This method of gathering squires is a bit unusual, even for me, and some do not approve.

You will both be tested, you must prove your worth. And I will not be there to protect you. But you can at least look out for one another. It seems to me Colin that you have the ability to stand up for yourself and for others."

Colin looked at the little pudgy boy, and wondered how long he would last as a knights squire. He had on the garb of a rural worker. Colin thought that if the old man was crazy enough to take on this boy, that he would seem far better in comparison, even if lowly born. He knew he could stand up for himself, no one could talk down to him. But also he had no interest in looking after someone who couldn't look after them-self. He took a deep breath and decided that perhaps he would accept this offer. It was an opportunity to escape his current fate - and isn't that what he had secretly been wishing for? If the wizard was taking on such squires, who was he to argue. He may simply be a foolish old man, but if he was wealthy, then he could do as he liked. Opportunities like this were as rare as Dragon eggs.

"If you will help find a good carer for my grandmother, I could go with you, and see if it be true or simply and old man's tale." Colin was curious, and if the old man could pay for his grandmothers care, he must at least be wealthy, which said something. He would not believe the rest until he was entering the Templar castle for himself. And if that happened, he thought, his mother would be proud of him. He would risk much for that chance.

The next day after breakfast Aldwyn said that it was time to return to Canelorn castle. He left some money for Grandmother, and promised to arrange for a carer to assist her.

"Thank you," she said, her face crinkling into a warm smile. She took Colin's hand, and as her soft yet paperlike skin held his hand he felt a lump in his throat. He found it hard to look at her - she had meant so much to him.

"I am so happy that you have this opportunity Colin." She leant up and kissed him softly on the cheek. Then she smiled again. "It seems we are both going to be doing quite well - so please don't worry about me." Her face crinkled up as she smiled softly at him.

Colin fought the tears that were stinging his eyes. "I will come to see you, whenever I can."

They embraced gently, and then he followed the others out of the door, into the bustle of the morning street.

"Now we shall find you both a pony for our trip to Canelorn. The stablemaster where I left my horse told me of a likely horse dealer on the outskirts that also sells ponies from time to time."

Otto smiled at Aldwyn, and then at Colin, who found this bright country boy a bit strange. This must have shown on his face, as the smile slowly slid off Otto's face.

Colin turned to Aldwyn. "Are we the only squires that you sought then?"

Aldwyn shook his head briefly. "No, there will be others. The spell I cast showed me ten more. You are the first though." He winked at them, and Colin nodded, still awestruck, yet faintly suspicious. He still couldn't understand why a fancy Templar wizard would want him. And looking at the other boy did nothing to reassure him.

After Aldwyn collected his horse they found the horsedealer, where Aldwyn handed over more Templar gold. The ponies were worth weeks of ordinary wages each. And that was before the leather saddles and other gear was purchased.

Aldwyn had to instruct them on saddling the ponies, and the boys felt awkward at first, which the ponies could sense. Otto slipped out of his saddle a couple of times, and even Colin found it awkward at first. Then after some initial soreness, they became accustomed and enjoyed the trotting pace out of the town and onto the realms cobbled roads.

Aldwyn seemed to know how to avoid trouble, sending them off the road several times before groups of riders went past. He told them that dark times were falling on the realm, and rebels and bandits seemed to be increasing by the day. It was no longer safe to trust any one.

Colin had got to know Otto in the two weeks of travel. Otto said very little, and looked up to Aldwyn. He was a quiet, gentle boy. Perhaps there was some strength in him under his fat, it was hard to tell. He liked to listen to Aldwyn's words about the history of regions they passed through, or about the plants and animals they saw. He seemed to remember a lot of it and have intelligent questions. He had probably not dropped out of school young like Colin. All Colin needed was his fists to survive. Aldwyn had told them that there would be schooling as well as practical lessons with weapons at Canelorn, and that a knight was a diplomat as well as a fighter.

Aldwyn spoke to Colin one night as they sat by the fire with Otto gently snoring in his bedroll.

"Otto might not seem to be much, but he could be a valuable friend to you where we are headed. Even an independent boy like you needs friends. Especially," Aldwyn said with a little wink "One that could help with the schoolwork you will also need to do. He can help you to make up for your own lost schooling. You can help each other. If you look out for Colin and help him learn to fight, I am sure he will be very happy to help you with the Order's classes."

Colin frowned. That night he mulled over the wizards words, and thought that it wouldn't do any harm to help Otto. If it was of benefit to him. Over the next few days Colin showed Otto how to fight with staffs made from branches. It always ended up the same way, with Otto face down in the dirt. But at least, Colin thought, he was getting some practice in how best to take a fall.

Finally they came within sight of the Castle. As noon approached they saw it over the rise of a hill. It was nestled on the side of a mountain as the end of a large valley. Colin started to feel the full weight of what was in front of him. Even from a distance he could see the massive stone walls and battlements, the Templar flags fluttering in the breeze, the emblems carved into its walls; it was a breathtaking sight. It gave him an impression of power, of strength, of an ancient and honored tradition. It made Colin feel small and insignificant, yet also excited. As they approached he could see the gleam of metal from the Knights patrolling the battlements. He was now aware of his old worn clothes, repaired several times with different stitching and buttons, washed over rocks until threads were almost worn through. In his rough young life he had always tried to put himself into positions of power and strength over others. For the first time he realized how petty his world had been, how his own strength and power had never been put to any real test. There was a sense of possibility here, challenges that might truly test him.

Colin looked at Otto. The boy was dumb-struck, his mouth an invitation to flying insects looking for a damp place to rest. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes swimming with a mixture of emotions. Colin was sure if he leaned over and pushed him the boy would tumble out of his saddle like a stone. It made him smile to himself. He supposed that Aldwyn may be right, that he should look out for the boy. Someone had to. It could do him little harm, and the boy at least had some book learning. He knew that the boy had had a rough time of it, but not as rough as Colin. If he were to stick with the boy, he would toughen him up, and brook no complaints.

4

Three Years Later

Bodies of the fallen were strewn across the valley floor. King Blatov's soldiers were finishing the remaining Templar knights and men at arms, plunging swords or spears carelessly into necks and bellies, before wiping them on the dead or dying men's tunics. Sir Eric Walter looked down from a distant hilltop. He stroked the neck of his heavily breathing horse to calm it while they sat in a copse of elm trees. He watched with despair the end of so many proud knights and men at arms. He felt that he should have stayed down there with them to share their fate.

But he had to obey the order - Sir Tristam told him that he must report back if all seemed lost. Sir Walter had never before turned his back on a battle, no matter how hopeless, yet he could not avoid his duty. He took one last despairing look at the fate of the pride of the Realm, then turned his mount towards Canelorn. As he rode, images of the battle whirled through his mind. The rebels had swept all before them. Eric was sure they were supported by some kind of dark sorcery - that would explain their unearthly strength and fury. Although King Blatov's force outnumbered them they had expected a far different outcome. The order of the Templars had helped keep peace in the borderlands for generations, their power had been unsurpassed, until now.

Sir Walter now had to report the defeat of their best knights to Aldwyn and the handful of Templar knights, squires and men-at-arms left at the castle. Now the main route to Saxony lay open. The Easterners simply needed to go past their almost empty castle at the head of the valley, and the road was open all the way to the capital. The castle appeared over a rise, clinging to the skirts of Mount Canelorn at the end of the valley. He wondered how long it's high stone walls would last against the invading force, with so few defenders. For centuries it had held this mountain pass against the East.

The men at arms swung open the gates as Eric galloped across the drawbridge. As he went through the gates of the outer keep, he shook his head at their questions. His pale tight face and bloodstained armor told them more than words could. There was perhaps forty left in the castle, more than half of them old men or children. Eric dismounted at the inner gate, and marched on towards the upper chamber of the arch-mage. Sweating in his heavy armor after climbing the long spiral staircase, Eric entered Aldwyn's chamber gasping for breath.

Aldwyn sat in the far corner of his room, his white hair lit softly by a narrow window. He looked away from the window, he had been lost in thought. He looked sadly at Sir Walter. The room was an ordered jumble of books, potions and ingredients. The arch-mage was a tall, skinny old man, his face wrinkled by study and care. He had short thinning hair over a high forehead, and a long white beard. His robes were deep blue with red trim. He had clear gray eyes, the color of pebbles seen in a mountain stream.

"I know," Aldwyn said, with a look of resignation. "I saw the images in my scrying stone."

Eric sat down, resting his forehead in his hands before looking up again. "We were defeated by sorcery, I am sure of it."

Aldwyn sighed. "I'm sure you're right, in the images I sensed some kind of malevolence. It seems that dark sorcery is on the rise. I wish I could have done more myself. But my powers grow weak. Were the priest's blessings of any use?"

Eric shrugged. "No - I sensed waves of fear and despair washing over us. There is no doubt it was some evil magic. The blessings had no power against it. It all went wrong, and now we don't even have time to grieve. They will march on. Our castle is but lightly held. Some will storm it while the rest march on to inner Saxony." The old knight sighed.

Aldwyn put his hand on Eric's. "This castle, even with the small force we have, is designed to withstand a siege"

Eric looked keenly at Aldwyn. "Are you still pursuing your course with the twelve squires?" Aldwyn nodded silently. Eric knew that Aldwyn had plans to use Aelven magic to send them to Albion, if he could. Only those on the High Council knew, even the squires were in the dark. He saw little benefit in risking the lives of twelve good squires in this way. They would need every able body to mount some kind of defense. But Aldwyn's eyes showed his mind was set.

Eric supposed he would need to believe in their arch-mage. If the squires could make it to Albion, they may be able to return with aid for their realm. "Very well. I have never supported you. But knights know little of the ways of magic. It's true there's little to lose, they at least may be saved."

Aldwyn smiled at Eric, he was one of the oldest and longest serving knights. "You were not the only one who opposed my plan. I have always believed that there is more at stake in the realms than we realize. The darkness that is threatening us is merely a symptom of greater darkness. We need to try and its cause, before it's too late. I have sent a message asking my squires to gather in the High Hall."

"As you know, if you succeed, we will lose almost a third of our fighting force."

"Yes, old friend. But perhaps they can find a cause for these dark times, something that we do not know."

"And will that do us any good?" Eric still couldn't shake his fears that the wizard was more concerned about arcane knowledge than their survival.

"Not us, perhaps. But the civilized realms are my concern. If they learn something, and can return with that knowledge, then I would count it a success."

Eric sighed. There was no arguing with wizards, he supposed. They found their reason in arcane books and mystical spells that would turn the mind of a simple knight like him. He would just have to trust that some good came of it. "We had better make our way to the High Hall then. I hope that these squires of yours know what they are in for."

5

Aldwyn looked around at the twelve of them, filled with pride and concern in equal measure. It took him almost three years to find them all, all for a day like this, a day he had hoped would never come.

They were little more than children, squires that were still learning the ways of knighthood. If only this could have waited till the time was more ripe. But now his hand was forced. Half of them were young women, half young men. It was as the spell required, translated from the ancient high Aelven. Seeing them here together, he saw their fine qualities. He hoped that it would be enough. The boys, Colin, Otto, Jorn, Rosswald, and the twins Kai and Koby. The girls Gudrun, Holle, Agatha, Rikki, Zelinda and Maddalena.

They all wore their simple squires outfits - black wool trousers, collarless white cotton shirt with a cream woolen overshirt. The over-shirt had a black trim and the Templar crest on the right breast. It showed a knight on horseback, bearing a shield decorated with a large tree. Armor was worn over these when required. Aldwyn had asked them to come dressed like this. If he hadn't, he knew that they would have come fully armored for battle. Many of them still wore faces of guilt and disappointment at the battle they had missed. Aldwyn told the young squires to sit down at the table, and listen to what he had to tell them.

Colin looked put out. "But this is the knights high table."

Aldwyn nodded. "Yes, and almost all those knights are now dead, killed by the rebels. I don't think they will complain." This didn't seem to satisfy Colin, but at last they all slowly sat in the high-backed chairs around the table.

Aldwyn looked around at them all again while he gathered his thoughts. Some, like Colin and Otto, had been here for almost three years now, and were ready to enter a tournament. Colin should have been knighted already, but Colin behaved like a protective older brother to Otto and wanted them to enter a tournament together. Aldwyn could understand this, as they had both experienced similarly difficult upbringings. They had also arrived together.

The rest of the squires all shared bonds of one kind or another with each other now, which was just as well. Aldwyn hoped that the vision wasn't sent to mock him, a last nasty joke of the Gods. It could only be tested in its casting, he had no way of knowing exactly what would happen. But he had come this far, he had trusted to his visions. He could not back out now, with death at their gates.

"I have never told you exactly why I had gathered you all from the far corners of Saxony and beyond. And I know you wonder why I convinced them to hold you back from this battle." He paused, and saw that while some still showed resentment, they were at least listening with attention. "Some will have said that you are the product of some crazy scheme of the old arch-mage." Some of them squirmed, looked away or bit softly on their lips to reveal the truth of his words. "When I have finished you may agree with them. But if you thought that by holding you back from the battle, I had given you the easy way out, you are wrong. In fact, what I desire of you will require equal bravery, perhaps even more.

I foresaw this day - I knew that death and destruction would be visited upon us. And not just us, but Saxony as a whole. That is a price for my eldritch knowledge. You twelve were to be a cry of hope in the darkness I felt was coming, if it was needed. Years ago, as you know, I discovered an ancient spell, a spell that requires twelve knights gathered in a certain way."

Gudrun frowned. "But we are not knights, we are squires."

Aldwyn nodded. "True, Gudrun. But luckily for us, some grizzled old knights have survived." He winked at Eric. Eric was leaning against the wall behind them. He made a grim figure, his armor dented and stained with blood, gleaming a dull red in the torch-light. He smiled at Aldwyn's description.

"Aye, young ones." They all turned at his gruff voice. "I know of Aldwyn's scheme. Despite my misgivings, I will support it."

Aldwyn could see the gathered squires were troubled by these words. "Do not look so concerned, young squires. Today will be a day of some joy for you, despite the dark times upon us. Today you become knights."

There were gasps around the table, they looked at one another, then at Eric and Aldwyn in confusion. Jorn spoke up. "But how can we be made knights, surely there are many trials that we have not-"

Eric put up his hand, silencing Jorn mid sentence. "Your confusion is justified, but almost all the other knights have been slain. I saw them fall, and a terrible sight it was. But fall they did, and I am one of the last left. In such times, often squires are knighted before a battle."

Colin's face slowly lit up. "So we will ride out and battle these invaders?" Some of the others weren't so pleased at that prospect.

Eric stepped forward and clapped Colin on the shoulder , shaking his head. "No, I am afraid that Aldwyn has other plans for you."

Aldwyn nodded and cleared his throat. "Yes. I did not gather you twelve so you could throw your lives away so cheaply. You are to be sent on a quest."

Now, Aldwyn saw, he truly had all their attention.

"It will have great dangers, perhaps equal or exceeding those facing us here. The darkness in our realm does not stem from here. It is not a punishment of the gods. The awful truth, which few know, is that the gods themselves have fallen silent. We do not know why."

He stopped to let that sink in. It was something that they would need to know. They all looked around at one another, now truly stunned.

Zelinda's face was flushed, and tears, angry tears, came to her eyes. It seemed too much for her to take in. "What do you mean?"

Aldwyn understood her anger. "I am sorry I must you this, on top of everything else. Only the highest wizards and priests are aware of this." Aldwyn could see the shock and fear on their faces, he was attacking their most deeply held beliefs in the powers that sustained and protected the realms. He took a breath to steel himself. This was no time for soft sentiment.

"Much of our magic was dependent on the power of the gods - now it is only faint, and growing fainter, like a glow of flame through heavy smoke. We do not know what kind of dark sorcery has cut off the divine powers in this way. But we can assume it is from others that seek to overcome all with their darkness. And the realm that darkness would seek to overcome, even more than our own, is that of Albion. Only there may we find answers."

Agatha said "You want us to go to the realm of Albion." They all looked at her, some laughed at her words, but Aldwyn nodded, silencing them.

"That is correct. I know that it has not been done for hundreds of years - it was forgotten lore. Rather than fight the rebels here, I want you to go to where the source of much of the darkness must be, to Albion. I know you will have read tales of heroes who traveled there in the past, and perhaps you thought it fable. But if all goes well, you will soon see that it is not." Aldwyn looked around at them all, their faces were stunned, some showing fear, others excitement. None of them had experienced an arch-mage's powers at first hand.

Rikki looked confused. She said "If we can travel to Albion, would the creatures there not speak another language?"

Aldwyn shook his head. "The ancient tomes say our language is derived from Albion's. You should be able to understand their speech. At least I hope so." Aldwyn smiled at Rikki. She was always thinking a step ahead. She looked faintly disappointed, he imagined it was because she had not read of this already.

"I have prepared the runes in one of my chambers near the top of the north tower. We must go there immediately. I don't want to lose any time, now that the rebels will be on the march."

Maddalena said, "If we are sent to Faerie, won't that mean deserting the castle, and all we have striven to uphold?"

Aldwyn could see that she was speaking for the fears of many of them. "No. This was the very reason I gathered you all from the far corners of Saxony. For this day. There is something within each of you that will help the power of this magic. Different qualities, each special and unique. In Albion you can find the answers that we all seek. And who knows? Perhaps you will return to us and help us escape our fate. And if not, well, our best wishes go with you. There is more threatening the realms than the rebels approaching our gates. And as Knights Templar, you highest duty will be to the civilized realms and the gods."

Eric stood forward. "Before you can fulfil fulfill that duty, I must knight you all in this great hall of heroes. I only wish that it could have happened in happier times, surrounded by all our great knights, who have now fallen."

Eric pulled his sword from its scabbard, and one by one called them forward to kneel before him. Aldwyn could see that despite everything their eyes were filled with pride and awe as they knelt before Eric. The living knights were fallen, but they were still surrounded by ancient heroes of the Order, their statues filled the alcoves of the Great Hall. Aldwyn felt pride too. He had covered so much of the realm to uncover the twelve. They were being knighted in one of its darkest hours, and may live to write their own chapters in its annals.

When it was concluded, they all made their way to the Eastern Tower. They had asked to get their armor and weapons, but Aldwyn told them that the spell could not work if they were wearing metal.

"A knight does not just rely on his armor and weapons, he also needs his wits." Eric raised an eyelid, as if to say that he knew which he would rather choose.

The twelve new knights entered the large round chamber at the top of the northern tower. All the preparations were now complete. Aldwyn took a last look. The Aelven runes were placed correctly within and around the magic circle. There was a twelve pointed star within it, and he directed them to stand around the circle, each at one of the points. He could see that they were really getting nervous now. Excitement was battling with fear of the unknown. He smiled reassuringly at them all, not wanting them to see his own nervous tension. This spell had not been cast for hundreds of years, and would require every drop of magic power Aldwyn still possessed. His hand was sweating as he held his enchanted staff. Opening a portal between the realms required levels of magical power that only an arch-mage could attempt. He had been preparing himself for years, he hoped it would be enough.

Rikki, Zelinda and Maddalena were looking not just with trepidation but also curiosity at the runes. They had all shown some interest in ancient lore, and all at one time or another had come to look at some of Aldwyn's tomes. Rikki had shown so much interest, he had given her a key to access his library when he was gone.

Perhaps he should have encouraged all of them to learn what they could of the ways of Albion, but there was no use worrying about that now. He picked up his staff, and touched the large emerald on its tip to the outer edge of the circle. He began to chant the runes, walking slowly around the outside of the circle. He began to feel the power flowing through him. He had to concentrate hard on the spell so that it did not overcome him.

The runes began to glow softly, and the twelve looked at each other in wonder and fear as soft light lit their faces from below. Aldwyn's chant became louder, unseen power lifted the chant until it echoed within the round chamber. The glow of the runes increased in brightness, then began to throb in rhythm with the chant. Aldwyn saw them swaying on their feet, some going pale as waves of power washed through them. Then the light from spell at their feet shot up in a blinding column, the sound rose to a crescendo, into a shout. Then there was a final blinding flash. It was as if the light and sound tore them away - they were gone.

The chamber was now empty of all but Aldwyn and Sir Eric. Before the twelve had stood within the symbols and runes that had been drawn across the chamber floor. Now the room was bare again, even the runes gone. Aldwyn collapsed to the floor, gasping and wheezing. His wand was a charred stump in his hand, it broke into several pieces when he fell. Eric quickly went to him. "Aldwyn, are you alright?"

Aldwyn smiled weakly up at the old knight, and shook his head. "This could be it for me. But my time has been coming for a while now - I was just clinging on until I could cast this last enchantment. But I couldn't control the spell, after all. The magic was beyond me in the end."

Eric looked confused. "It seems to have worked - they are gone."

"Yes, I sent them. But I could not retain control. I do not know where in Albion they went, or whether they arrived together." Aldwyn paused, to steady himself and take some breaths. "I just hope that Albion is in better shape than our realm." He coughed and lay down weakly. "Can you help me to my bed? From there I will listen to them storming our castle." Eric carefully raised him up, and helped him slowly out of the chamber.

6

Otto listened to the hypnotic Aelven chant. Aldwyn's words caused the circle to glow, then streams of spiritual power flowed up and around him. Otto felt like moving away from it; it seemed physical, like glowing snakes. Then he felt it flow through him, it seemed the glowing tendrils of power were tugging at the fabric tying him to this world, pulling him towards another. He felt himself fading and departing, borne on waves of power that tore the barrier between the realms. He felt overwhelmed, overcome by this power that filled him, and all was a blur of light and sound and a rushing, falling sensation.

Images swum through Otto's mind. His life up until now came before him in a misty vision. His childhood on his Uncle and Auntie's farm. Lots of pain interrupted by flashes of joy. His cruel cousin Leo, teasing him about his parents, about his weight. Lying down with a new born calf to help its mother keep it warm. Fuzzy images of a woman's face - he wondered if that was his mother, but he had never seen her - she had died when Otto was born. A man's back, walking away - he supposed it was his father - he had left Otto when he was a baby, then died at sea a year later.

Then the kind face of Aldwyn, coming to the farm, telling Otto he had seen him in a vision, on this small farm, tending the cows alone. Traveling with Aldwyn, finding Colin. Eventually they became friends, the first friend Otto had ever had. Colin had had a hard life, harder than Otto, and that gave them a bond. It made them feel almost like brothers. That meant more to him than knighthood or all the rest of it. Others later came to join them at the castle. Some of them also became friends.

Otto's perceptions returned to him, he felt himself becoming aware of his surroundings. A soft silvery green light fell onto him. He felt pleasant warm sunlight bathing him; it filtered down through slender branches swaying overhead. There was soft mossy earth under him. Otto slowly stood, and blinked away the spiraling stars in his vision. One thing he knew for certain - he was no longer in Canelorn Castle.

It was some sort of courtyard, there were flowers, trees and shrubs he did not recognize. He heard water splashing just beyond the trees in front of him. He could make out arches on the edges of the courtyard that led to other areas. Otto looked around but he couldn't see any of the other newly minted knights. He heard laughter rippling beneath the splashing water, and female voices lifted in gentle song. He could just make out the words, and he walked towards the sound.

"Ding, dong, dell,

A Gnome is in the well,

A-tissue, A-tissue,

We all fall down!"

The end of their song was followed by splashing and more laughter.

Otto could see now that beyond the small group of trees in the middle of the courtyard was a large fountain, surrounded by a circular pool. His face flushed. There were several young girls bathing there, their hair silken clouds in the water. It was their laughter he had heard. They turned and saw Otto, though he was being as quiet as he could. They stopped for a moment to stare at him, then burst into laughter again. One closest to him said "A Midguardian, who has come to our realm. Would you like to join us?"

Otto could see through the rippling water they were unclothed. He saw thin shimmering garments near the side of the pool. He felt flustered. He tried to collect himself, remembering this was an entirely different realm. "I am Otto, I have come to see the faerie queene. I had other companions, as well. Perhaps you have seen them?"

This didn't have the impression he had hoped. Their silvery laugh was like the tinkling of bells in a cool breeze. One stood up slowly and said "Your companions have not arrived, but I can take you to see the faerie queene. I am Melorn."

She smiled at Otto. He went a brighter red and tried to look only at her face. She winked at him and picked up her dress. She slipped it over her dripping body. She was very slim, with pale coppery skin. Her dress was a translucent cerulean color that caught the ripples of the pool. Her face was high and narrow, with an upturned nose and wide set eyes of a striking shade of violet. He collected his thoughts, thinking this must be the faerie queene's palace. The spell must have worked even better than Aldwyn hoped.

When she finished dressing Melorn skipped over to Otto, bowed gracefully and kissed him on the cheek, which made the other girls laugh again. Otto stood there stunned as she took his hand. "Shall we go to see the faerie queene?" Accompanied by more giggling Otto said stiffly "Yes, thank you, Miss Melorn." He had never had so much trouble stringing words together.

Melorn gave a flowing flourish of her other hand and another bow like grass in the wind while the laughter continued. Otto had to hurry to keep up with her, she led him quickly across the courtyard and through one of the archways. He was entranced by the mystery and beauty that surrounded him, but he also felt a bit awkward. He had never felt comfortable around pretty girls, and had never seen any as beautiful as Melorn. His hand felt sweaty in hers, like a slab of warm meat.

When they left the courtyard they entered a hall of cloudy marble suffused with soft light. Otto let go of Melorn's hand - his own had become slippery with sweat. She turned to him with an accusing look. "Do not try to get away now. Queene Elendriel will be so happy to see you, Sir Otto. After all, you have come all the way from Midguard!" With a wink she turned and continued walking. "You must follow me closely, I don't want to lose you."

They passed into a courtyard full of tall willowy trees. Small pebbles dappled with sunlight shifted in a gentle melody under their feet. Otto heard the distant sound of chimes and bells dancing on the breeze. From this courtyard they followed another long pale hallway into a high vaulted chamber.

The ceiling of this chamber was carved to resemble large branches entwined in a forest with creatures hidden beneath the leaves. At the end of the chamber sat another beautiful woman on a delicately carved wooden throne, which looked like it had grown from the floor. She wore the most magnificent gown Otto had ever seen. It flowed and glimmered like a sylvan stream passing over smooth stones. He stopped, entranced by the beauty of this Aelf, even surpassing Melorn's. The warm glow of torches accented her face and clothing. On her head was a crown made from entwined leaves of silver and gold, set with small rubies like berries on a summer vine. Underneath it her hair cascaded to the floor in golden sunset waves. She smiled softly, and motioned with her hand for Otto to come forward. Slowly he got his legs moving forward until he was standing before her, Melorn smiling at his side.

"Your majesty, this boy has come all this way from Midguard to see you."

The woman on the throne smiled with a bright gleam in her eyes and bowed her head. "We are honored by your visit."

"Thank you, your majesty." Otto gave a low bow. He wasn't sure what to say. He was not great with words at the best of times. After a moment he continued. "Have you heard if my friends have arrived yet?"

"No, not yet." Queene Elendriel gently shook her head. She creased her forehead. "How many of you are there?"

"Apart from myself there are eleven other knights."

She smiled and stood up, walking up to Otto, looking him up and down slowly, then walking around him. All this time, Otto felt his cheeks get redder, it seemed that the chamber was getting hotter.

"I see. Are they all as noble and strong as you?"

Otto wished that the others were here to take some of the Queene's attention - he was only a newly minted knight, barely more than a squire really. He wondered what could be keeping them? He also wondered at the Queene's words about him being strong and noble - it must be Aelven politeness he supposed. He hadn't ever been praised like that. He tried to think of a proper response, other than standing there with his mouth gaping like a mooncalf. "We are all Templar's, your highness, sent here by Arch-mage Aldwyn Lufgren. Our castle was surrounded by enemies, and we were sent here by an ancient Aelven spell." Otto saw that she had her head on one side, listening with her lips curved up in a gentle smile as she walked around him. "I apologize that I may not be the best speaker your Highness, and also not the greatest knight. In fact we were only just made knights by Sir Walter before we left."

Queene Elendriel stopped behind him and rested her hand gently on his shoulder. "But I can sense your strength, Sir Otto." Melorn's trickling laugh tinkled in his ear. Then Elendriel let go, and walked over to a small silver table near her throne. On it were bottles and goblets of shimmering opaque colors. She lifted a light green decanter and poured its golden contents into a rose and gold glass goblet. "I have been a poor hostess, it is customary to offer our honored guests a sip of Aelven wine." She walked to Otto and slowly lifted his hand in one of hers before placing the goblet in it. "Please accept our hospitality, and drink with me to the union of our races."

Otto nodded, and took the wine. While the Queene poured herself some wine he smelled its rich sweetness. It made him realize how thirsty he was. He had never had much of a head for wine, but he knew it would be ungracious not to accept a sip of the Queene's wine. As the Queene smiled at him and sipped hers, he sipped from the Queene's golden cup. He felt the room start to swim before his vision. It started to go dim, he felt himself fall and land with a jarring thud. He heard the goblet shatter into slivers of clattering glass. Accompanying this was silvery laughter, laughter that felt as sharp as broken glass to his fading senses.

When he came to, Otto was being carried by the Aelven girls from the fountain, again singing their rhyme, but with a changed line,

"Ding, dong, dell,

A Midguardian in the well,

A-tissue, a-tissue,

We all fall down!"

They were all laughing again. Then Otto heard one say "Will he fit?"

"He may block it completely."

"What of the Gnome?"

"He will flatten the little creature - but surely it is dead in any case."

More silvery laughter followed. Otto could tell now he was being carried through a large garden, and he could feel his limbs tingling as sensation returned to them. The song and their talk was giving him an uneasy feeling, but he still found it hard to think clearly. He thought that he should stay still until he could move more freely. He had been tricked, and now they were taking him somewhere, perhaps some kind of prison. For now he just had to hope that the others were somewhere nearby.

Then Otto realized what their talk was about.

"Here we are, the garden well."

They laughed, and shoved him towards the edge. He tried to struggle free, but it was too late, he felt himself tumbling over the edge, falling down and twisting into the darkness. As he fell he tried to grab the hard slimy walls, he briefly gripped roots poking through gaps between the stones but fell like a clumsy stone himself, accompanied by fading laughter. His last thoughts were that he should have expected it to end like this, after all. He grasped at one large root with desperation, he held on but slammed into the side of the well, sending a jolt of intense pain up his arm and side. He felt the root tear away. Then he knew he was lost.

7

Colin also saw visions of his childhood as he traveled to Albion. The fight that started his descent. His father arguing with his mother. He knocked her over in his anger, she fell, striking her head. Then his father ran away, not wanting to face what he had done. Colin looking after his Grandmother, although she was supposed to be looking after him. Then more fighting. Lots of fighting. The gangs he joined, kids fighting with other kids. Lost children struggling to survive. Eventually he became the leader of his own gang. Then one day, Aldwyn came. Colin thought it was a prank his mates were playing on him. Why would a wizard want him? A boy who was always in trouble.

But the wizard paid for the Sisters to look after his Grandmother. Colin decided to trust him. In the end he helped the chubby farm boy Otto learn to defend himself. And later at the Templar's castle, Otto helped him with the harder studies, things like heraldry and history. Aiming for knighthood restored his pride and hope. Some of the other squires that preceded them gave Colin and Otto a hard time. They called them things like Aldwyn's pets or the wizard's little lost children. But things like that only made Colin more determined, and made his bonds with Otto, and the rest of the twelve that arrived later, stronger.

Colin felt his perceptions clearing; he realized he was standing in a forest. There was a cold wind gusting between the thick trunks that surrounded him. He looked up, and could make out some light gray patches of light through the forest roof. He was alone. Something had gone wrong - they were meant to arrive together near the palace of the faerie queene. Yet here he was, alone in a forest. Lost. It was strangely silent, until he heard a rustling above him.

He looked up, and saw something he couldn't make out. Something falling towards him. He tried to jump aside but he was too slow, it hit him, then grabbed him.

It was the hand of some huge creature. Another hand grabbed the other side of his chest and Colin saw the features of the creature in the trees above him as he was lifted up. It was like a man, wearing a patchwork of fur and leather skins over huge limbs, he made out some shaggy hair and a beard. Colin felt a rush of vertigo as he was wrenched up through the surrounding trees and held in front of the Giants face. He knew it could crush him with ease.

"What is this?" the Giant asked itself in a deep loud voice. "Not Aelf, or dwarf. I will take you back to show king." Colin was too scared to speak. Now he was twisting through the air again, as the creature placed him in a large sack of stitched leather. It already had a dead deer lying inside it. The Giant closed the sack enclosing Colin within, then he was swung up again. With a thump he came to rest on the Giant's back, and then the Giant lurched forward. Colin was squashed into the warm body of the deer. He tried to move so that antlers and hooves weren't pressing too hard into his body, with little success. The sack bumped up and down with each stride and Colin thought he might be crushed to death, if he didn't suffocate first.

It went on like this for hours, and a biting cold began to penetrate into the sack, despite the still warm bodies of the dead animals surrounding Colin. He could tell by crunching sounds under the Giant's feet that they must have walked above the snow-line. By the way the Giant seemed to be leaning forward as he walked, and the fact that it was becoming even harder to breathe the air, Colin was sure that the Giant was climbing up a high mountain. He was becoming light-headed, it was all he could do to hold onto consciousness.

With a bone-shaking thud the sack was dropped to the ground. The top was opened. Colin took grateful gasps of air, then gasped at the cold. A large hand grabbed him again, this time by the leg. It wrenched him out, he felt his joints pulling painfully and the deer's antler scraped roughly along his side. But he was at least free of the sack.

He took more big gulps of air, trying to ignore the biting cold that hurt his chest. There was the smell and taste of smoke in the air. As he tried to take in the gray rocky surroundings Colin was thrown roughly through a barred iron door. He landed on a thin layer of straw and twigs with hard stone underneath. As he fell he rolled onto something lumpy, then heard the barred door crash shut before the Giant stomped away.

"Can you be more careful?" something underneath him said, trying to push him off. He saw a small creature stuck under him, and he hastily moved off. He wasn't in the mood to apologize. He had had little choice in the whole matter.

"What is this place?" Colin said, trying to return some feeling to his sore limbs as he looked around the small stone cell. He was in some kind of uneven chamber carved from stone and rock. There was a narrow barred window near the roof that let in some beams of weak sunlight. It was very cold and the roof was a good twenty feet high. It smelt dusty and dank, and the floor was somewhat damp. He heard a lighter voice ask him who he might be. Turning, Colin saw another figure lying in a dark corner behind him.

He saw now that the creatures with him were not so different from men, except the one he had fallen on was only about four feet tall, with stumpy arms and legs and a pale complexion under shaggy hair and beard. His features were thick and broad. He had a wide protruding forehead and heavy lidded eyes that glowered grimly at him. The one that was lying down by the wall was as tall as Colin, with curly golden chestnut hair and pale green eyes. He had olive brown skin and long tall ears protruding from his curls. He looked tired.

"I am Colin, a Knight Templar from Midguard. A powerful Wizard sent us here."

The taller one laughed in a light way that Colin found slightly annoying. "Well Colin, your Wizard must have steered you a rough course to end up like this."

The small one also laughed, in a gruff way that sounded like something between a grunt and a cough. Colin gave a weak smile. He knew he would be stuck with them for a while.

"I don't know your names, or what that creature was that dropped me in here."

The shorter one smiled grimly at him. "No need to be in such a rush lad. You have all the time in the world. We are the guests of King Hathar, King of the mountain Giant Kingdom of Marak. We are all his prisoners. I am Gundi Fihr, dwarven chief of Ranis-Tarl, and this one here is a lost Aelven princeling, Khiril Lahalyn of Galandhar. So you have the honor to be in esteemed company. I am sorry we can not offer you better quarters." The dwarf laughed gruffly.

Colin felt his head whirl. How could it all have gone so wrong? He should be in the forest of the faerie queene, not imprisoned by Giants. At least there was an Aelven prince here. He turned to Khiril. "Perhaps you can help me. I was sent to engage with the faerie queene. Something seems to have gone wrong." Colin gave a grim smile at his understatement.

Khiril slowly stood and stretched. "I wish I could help you. Especially as you are giving us some diversion. I have been here for months now, with the dwarf here as my sole companion for most of that time. Your landing was the best thing that I have seen for quite a while." Gundi frowned darkly at the Aelf, but let it slide with a small grunt, that seemed to say that the Aelf's words were of little concern to him.

"We have plenty of time to let you know our situation" Khiril said. "We are far from the faerie queene's lands here. Her lands are far to the west. My own realm is south of here. I was returning with Gundi from his realm, and our ship was forced to land further north than we hoped, at the edge of the mountain Giants realm, I had been on a diplomatic and trade mission, but it did not end well, as you can see. We were captured, and are now being held for ransom."

Colin realized that his new companions situations were just as bleak, if not bleaker than his own.

"The Giants are holding us for ransom, though as of yet it seems they have not sent word that we are captured. It seems that there is dissension amongst the Giants, and some are calling for war, though there has been an uneasy truce with them for many years."

Gundi shook his head. "These Giant's expect ransom, but they make no effort to let our people know that we are captives. We will all rot away before anyone even knows we are here. The King appears to be led by Otak from what we have overheard. Otak is stirring them up to attack other races. The mountain Giant's mostly stay out of the wars of other realms. It is unlike them, the times are becoming strange and chaotic. Daemonic influences are spreading, stirring up trouble. I reckon that their stink might be here somewhere too."

Khiril did not argue with the dwarven chieftain.

"We have our own problems in Midguard," Colin said. "That is why we have come, to try and see if there is more known here about the dark forces that are on the rise."

"Do they not know there what is behind it all?" Khiril asked, looking surprised.

"It is not so surprising, Aelf. They are far from Albion, and would not feel the affects until it is too late."

"Perhaps. A great calamity befell the gods. Daemon lords were finally able to overcome them. Their might is fallen to ruins. The Daemons also fell in the battle, but some less powerful Daemons have now begun to come into our realms. They are causing trouble, now that the gods powerful protection is gone."

Colin remembered Aldwyn telling them the gods had fallen silent, though he did not know why.

Gundi nodded at Khiril's words. "The Aelf speaks the truth, unfortunately. It gets even worse. Before Daemons could not enter places like Aelfheim from Muspelheim. The gods had set up magical barriers and would be alerted if any tried. But now the gods have fallen, their barriers are of no use. It is up to us to do what we can against any Daemons that cross into our lands. But we worry they are beginning to use others, orcs, goblins, and now Giants, to aid their cause. It seems beyond the ingenuity of Daemons, though there is no doubt they wish for Albion to fall."

"It also worries me," Khiril said, "that little has been heard of Svartaelfheim for a long time now. I hope the dark Aelves do not ally with Daemons, though I would not put it past them."

Colin's head spun. To hear all these tales of mythical places and creatures, ones he had only read of in fable, was quite overwhelming. But if the Aelves and dwarves were struggling against great odds, what hope did it give to Midguard? Khiril looked at Colin's pale face, and clapped his hand onto his shoulder.

"It may sound grim, Colin of Midguard, but we are used to fighting the powers of Muspell and their allies. Even without the aid of the Aesir, we can still prevail."

Colin gave a weak smile, and nodded. "We wanted to offer assistance, but I wonder if any of us can help against such foes. Even those of us not stuck in a Giant's prison."

Gundi laughed. "Fear not, Midguardian. Your kind has aided us once before, and it is possible you will again. Perhaps you will even come up with a scheme to get us out of here. Stranger things have happened."

Colin smiled at the dwarf's encouraging words. He realized that he had found allies here. Of course that may do him little good stuck in this prison. He hoped that the dwarf was right, and that there was some way out of here.

Khiril said he would be taken before King Hathar soon, then he would see for himself the power of their captors. He nodded and told himself that he had to be alert to everything, they had to find some way out of this.

8

Colin was led by a Giant Gundi told him was named Grom to the throne-room. It was a huge chamber, carved from the rock of the mountain. In the center was a huge fire pit, and on the far wall were tall thin windows cut in the rock, the fabric hanging over them letting through a diffused light. The King sat on a massive granite throne with veins of gold running through it. He was older than many of the other Giants gathered around the hall, he had gray hair and weathered, wrinkled skin. Despite this he still looked strong and powerful, though careworn. His clothes were finer than the others, his leather more finely worked, some of it embellished with silver . He also had a large silver chain around his neck. His crown was iron but had several large gemstones set into it. Like the other Giants, he was perhaps fifteen feet tall, with a great jutting forehead and jaw, slightly overweight under his black leather vest.

There was one Giant near the throne that looked different to the others. He sat on a chair that was assembled of large bones, with a skull grinning down from either side. He wore an armor of bones of various shapes and sizes. He even had a bone helmet. His staff had various smaller bones hanging from it, they rattled with his slightest movement. He was a bit smaller than most of the Giants, perhaps only twelve feet tall, skinny and wrinkled, with white hair and bloodshot eyes. Colin also noticed that there was another large chair to the other side of the King, made from some kind of black volcanic rock with patches of dark red stone through it. This chair was empty.

"What is this thing, Grom?" the King said in a husky voice that still boomed through the stone hall.

"I found it in the Forest of Fallan, King Hathar. It is not Aelf or dwarf, and not orc or goblin either. I cannot say if it be minor Daemon. I put it in the cell with the two prisoners,. They're still alive, so I guess it's not."

King Hathar frowned in a menacing way, and leaned forward to give Grom an icy stare. "Those prisoners be held for ransom."

Grom shrugged. "Don't seem like anyone is coming for them. Anyway didn't think such a little pink creature could be Daemon - he was captured easy as plucking an apple." Colin felt his anger rising at this, but thought it wise to just listen.

King Hathar sat back, and shrugged. "Well, they said they are high bred. Maybe we will get some ransom. But what of this one? Is he worth keeping? Maybe we should just cut him up and feed him to the wolves." The other Giants in the hall rumbled their approval, some stomped their feet and weapons on the rugs that covered the stone floor.

"What do you think, Master of the Bones?"

The King turned to the wizened old Giant in bone-armor. He gave a semi-toothless grin and walked slowly towards Colin, banging his bone-staff down on each step so that it rattled as he walked. He stopped in front of Colin, and held the staff above his head and shook it, so that the rattling of the bones rose into a crescendo. As he did this, the other assembled Giants thumped their weapons in rhythm on the floor. The Master of the Bones began to chant in a deep rasping voice,

"Fee, fie, foe, fang,

I smell the blood of mid-guardian,

Be he alive or be he dead,

His flesh and bones will make my bread.

And when his blood flows red,

I'll make a skull cup from his head."

As he finished and shook his staff louder, the other Giants stomped and cheered. Colin didn't like the sound of his verse.

He burst out, "I am a Templar Knight, sent with a mission to the faerie queene."

The King raised his eyes at his words, and some of the cheers and stomping died down.

"The faerie queene? Aye? Would she pay a ransom?" As the King spoke a female Giant entered, accompanied by a fearsome looking male. She looked curiously at Colin.

"What is this one Father?"

"We are trying to find out Gwin." She shrugged and sat at the foot of his throne, looking curiously at Colin. The Master of Bones sneered and slowly made his way back to his seat, rattling as he went. Colin had never seen a female like Gwin. He shouldn't have been surprised that there were female Giants. She had wavy light brown hair, and dark blue eyes under a slightly less imposing forehead. She was perhaps eleven feet tall. She wore leather skins that had been dyed with pigments into a reddish blue, with some white fur lining. She had a long metal hair-clip to stop her hair from falling onto her face.

The Giant that was with her bowed to the King, and said "Gwin wanted to sit with you awhile. I hope all is well. I have other work to attend to." He smiled briefly but coldly before turning away. He was slightly shorter than the other Giants by a foot or so, but wider and stronger looking. He had dark hair and a cold look in his eyes. His leathers were well kept, with a metal-studded belt. The iron axe hanging at his side had a well crafted oak handle. Colin supposed that if he was the princesses mate, he would hold a high position here. He gave Colin an unfriendly and mildly curious sneer before departing.

The King smiled softly at his daughter and placed his hand tenderly on her shoulder, before shifting his gaze back to Colin.

"So, would the faerie queene pay a ransom for you?"

Colin thought it doubtful, having never met her, but didn't think it wise to share this with the King.

"I suppose so, your Majesty."

King Hathar grunted with approval. The princess smiled and looked up at his father.

"He speaks pretty father. And is curious looking. Can I have him?"

Grom said "King Hathar, the Queene may not know him, so would not pay I think."

King Hathar frowned, though at whom he was frowning, Colin could not guess.

"Grom, you are not known as the wise for nothing. I think this little creature is only fit to be wolves dinner."

Gwin squealed. "Father, you promised me a pet. I want him!"

King Hathar looked angry at first then calmed himself with an effort. "Aye, I did princess. I had forgot. But this is a prisoner, maybe dangerous. I meant a deer or perhaps a small bear. Last one was like this."

"No. I want this one. How could such a one be dangerous?"

Hathar looked at Colin. Colin thought he could tell from the pained expression on the King's face that he was thinking hard about something. Finally Hathar grunted and shrugged.

"Grom, have him taken to the Princess's room each day. She can feed him, and walk him. But he must keep in his cell for the rest of day." Then he looked sternly at Gwin. "Look after him. No more such pets after this one."

Gwin squealed with delight, and leapt up to give her father a hug and a kiss.

Grom said in a low voice "Wolves will be sad."

Colin's heart was thumping hard in his chest. One second they were going to feed him to the wolves, the next he was to be a giantess's plaything. He almost felt tears come to his eyes. He was a Knight Templar, he had come here to help the civilised realms. He thought he would serve the faerie queene, not serve as a giantess's toy.

As these thoughts churned through his head, Gwin walked up to him and stroked Colin's hair, which almost sent him to his knees.

"Thank you Father. I will keep him better than last one." Colin wondered what had become of the 'last one.' He realized that his situation had just gone from bad to worse.

Colin told Gundi and Khiril that he was to be Gwin's pet. Khiril looked at Gundi and said, "Well, it is better than being fed to the wolves at least."

"What do you mean?" Colin said.

"Well, you see laddie," Gundi said slowly, frowning at Khiril, "the last 'pet' Gwin had did not fare so well."

Colin looked at Khiril, who slowly nodded, also with a troubled expression.

"What happened?"

"It is hard for Khiril here to talk of it, as it was a soldier in his own army. He was a sweet lad, I suppose, and apparently quite handsome, if you like that pale wispy Aelven look. The giantess wanted the prince, but her father said no. I think that the lass just pines for a handsome Giant of her own. She was forced to marry that cold looking Otak, the War-Leader. I have heard the guards say that he married her for influence with the King."

Colin thought that this gossip was still far from the point. "But what happened to the Aelven soldier?"

"She crushed him to death," Khiril said.

Colin looked at him. "Crushed him?" But Khiril just looked away.

Gundi moved closer and whispered "Prince is a bit sensitive about it."

He continued in a slightly louder voice "Gwin don't know her own strength apparently. Guard told us she gave him a hug and that was it, his eyes popped out and he fell in a heap, blood coming out all over. Quite a mess they said, she was quite upset. Said she threw a tantrum and asked for Prince Khiril here instead. King said he was kept for ransom, but she could have the next one they caught - if she promised to be a bit more careful and not kill him on the first day." This did not comfort Colin at all. He had not foreseen his life ending in the arms of a Giant princess. Surely Aldwyn had not chosen him for such a fate.

Early the next day Grom came to their cell, opened the cell door and told Colin to come out. He took him to a forge, where another soot covered Giant fitted a metal collar to his neck. Then a chain was attached to Colin's neck-iron, and he was led to the Princess's chamber. It was a small cave-like chamber, much of the stone walls hidden behind crude wall-hangings. These were made from animal skins dyed in muted shades. Some wooden shelves had a couple of ornaments, including a small Aelven sized skull. Gwin saw Colin looking at it, and smiled.

"That was Lloryl. I was a bit clumsy with him. But don't worry, he was my first pet, I will be more careful with you. You are made so soft I need to be gentle."

She had moved closer and took his chain from the guard, patting him softly on the head. At least he didn't see stars this time. The guard left, saying he would collect Colin in an hour. Gwin nodded, but her attention was all on Colin.

"I don't need him any more, would you like him?" She picked up the skull carefully between two fingers and offered it to Colin. He noticed it was slightly cracked and bent in from being picked up.

"No thanks, you keep him. He is different from me."

She looked confused and shook her head, "No, pets the same."

Colin felt annoyed again at being called a pet, but tried to continue on the same course. "He was Aelven, I am a Midguardian, from Midguard."

Gwin frowned, and put the skull carefully back on her bedside shelf. "Are you tougher than Aelves? He squashed easily."

Colin shook his head. "Not really, I hope you will not squash me." He was at least being truthful.

Gwin nodded quickly. "I will be careful. I promised father."

"My name is Colin."

"That is good, Colin. That is what I will call you. Call me Gwin."

Colin gave her a smile. "Gwin."

The giantess laughed and clapped her hands.

"I will take you for a walk. Do you like going for walk?"

Colin nodded, thinking it best to go along with her and keep her happy. At least he would see more of the mountain home of these Giants. And perhaps see a way of escape. Gwin stood up, and she pulled the chain in a way that almost flung Colin to the ground. He coughed from the force on his neck.

"Must keep up with Gwin, or Colin will fall." She frowned, in a kind of concern.

Colin nodded and ran to follow her as she walked out of her room. As they walked down the hall Grom followed a few steps behind, his axe held loosely in his hand. Between the chain, Gwin and Grom, Colin could see that escape would not be easy.

It went on like this every day, Gwin would walk him about, meeting up with other Giants and giantess's, some of whom would pat Colin on the head, which was always a painful experience. Sometimes she would stop in the great hall, and Colin heard some of the Giant's business. He could see that Otak had much influence over the King and other Giants. He seemed to always be talking of war and raids on other races. He said that the Giant's had been peaceful for too long, and that other races mocked them. Some frowned or argued with him, but his sharp remarks to them always got laughter, and won other Giants to his side. It seemed to Colin that he was cleverer than the others, and used this to his advantage.

Occasionally Otak would see Gwin and Colin, and he would shake his head. He made it clear that he didn't like Colin, and liked his wife having a 'pet' even less. Fortunately he was rarely in the mountain, usually out leading scouting parties. Colin noticed that when Gwin was with Otak, she acted nervous, and wouldn't smile. She would usually look down and didn't say much. He doubted that Gwin had wanted to marry Otak.

Back in his cell, Colin spoke to Gundi about the way Gwin behaved around Otak.

Gundi nodded. "We have overheard much about this. Gwin was to marry a young Giant that she loved, and was apparently loved by the King and others. He was engaged to marry her. But the Warlord took offense to an imagined slight, and challenged him to a fight to the death. As Giants do, when he won the battle, he claimed all that belonged to him, which he said included Gwin. The King was angry at first, but we heard that the War-leader stared him down and he agreed. Since then he had had an increasing influence on the King. Though we have heard his cruelty and brutality has made even some Giants uncomfortable."

Khiril nodded. "It does seems strange. My people had had peace with the Mountain Giants for hundreds of years, but taking me prisoner like this is a breach of that treaty."

Colin considered their words. It seemed that the Giant that may be the worst of all was Gwin's husband. It did not make him feel any more comfortable.

9

As he came around, Otto felt sore and stiff all over. He also felt cold and wet. Somehow though, he was still alive. He was lying in thick mud and water and other soft stuff he couldn't make out. And there was a horrible rank smell. As he turned his head he swallowed some of the slimy stuff and almost choked. He sat up painfully, coughing.

"You survived, after all."

Otto looked about in the shadows to find the source of that croaky nasal voice, and could just make out a small shape. The only light was a small patch of blue far above. As he looked up, he thought of his fall into the well. How had he survived? Grasping that last root as he fell must have saved him, as well as the thick mud. His legs felt really stiff and sore, but not broken. There was just dull aching pain, but he could move all his limbs.

He must have been lying here in the dark with this strange creature for who knew how long. It had not killed him, so Otto hoped that it was friendly. But he didn't want to trust anyone or anything, after what had just happened to him. Otto noticed the cause of the rank smell. There was piles of kitchen scraps under them mixed in with the mud and water.

"I survived, no thanks to those women above. I am Otto, of Saxony. Can I ask who I am sharing this well with?"

"Garazar at your service, my lord."

"Well Garazar, I am just recently a knight, but no lord."

"That is where you are wrong, Sir Knight. We are now Lords of Yselda's well. And a fair kingdom it be." With this the little creature let out a cackling laugh, before coughing and holding its chest.

Otto could see more clearly now, his eyes were adjusting to the murk. Opposite him against the slimy stones of the well sat a small creature, perhaps two feet tall, with what seemed to be thick leathery gray-green skin, a small slit of a mouth and little beady eyes over a protruding beak-like nose. Its clothes were covered in mud and muck. He also saw that the creature wore a valuable looking ring, under the dirt covering it Otto could see the gleam of a diamond like gem. It was a wonder it had been allowed to keep it. It had no hair that he could see. It had talon like fingers and stubby feet with a backward pointing toe at the heel. Although it was a small creature, Otto felt uncomfortable to think how long he had lain unconscious with this thing. He wondered how long it would have taken before the creature would have considered him to be dinner.

"I would not eat such a pasty thing as you. We Gnomes are mostly vegetarians, you know."

Otto was startled, wondering how the creature knew what he was thinking. "You're a Gnome? And do Gnomes make it their practice to pry into peoples minds?"

Garazar chuckled, and wrung its little hands with what looked like pleasure. "No, no. We are smart, but not so gifted as all that."

Otto felt relieved. The creature was giving him the creeps. "Well, I can see that, or you wouldn't be stuck at the bottom of a well with me."

Garazar chuckled again, but with a bit less enthusiasm. "You've got us there, you have, Midguardian."

Again Otto was surprised. He realized this was indeed some wise creature, to know so much. Although perhaps the people of Midguard were widely known in Albion. He really knew nothing of the history or customs of Albion. At least he could question this Gnome. "You know of my origin, Gnome. Do you also know why I am here?"

"Aye." The creature smiled. "To see the faerie queene. But a fine sight you would be to her right now. You are about as far from seeing the faerie queene as I would be from marrying her."

Again he chuckled. Otto was truly surprised this time. The other things the Gnome said could have been some kind of tricky guesswork. But knowing why he was here, that could only mean that the Gnome was using some kind of magic. As the Gnome continued to laugh, it ended in a nasty sounding cough, with Garazar holding his side.

"Perhaps you should ease up on the laughter Gnome. You are not doing so well."

"So well!" The Gnome again had a laughing fit, then coughed until he was gasping, and Otto thought he could see a dark substance on his hand as he pulled it away from his face, that was probably blood. Despite his initial distaste for the creature, he suddenly was concerned for it. He didn't want to be stuck down here alone. The creature seemed to possess some kind of magic, so perhaps it could help him.

"You don't look so good Gnome. Perhaps you should be a bit more serious, or you might kill yourself."

The Gnome coughed a bit, and gave Otto a beady stare. "There are worse ways to go. Like miserable and alone at the bottom of a well. Don't you think?"

Again Otto felt uncomfortable, it seemed like the creature was reading his thoughts again. He slowly nodded. "Yes, there are."

"But you are also right Midguardian. The damp had seeped into my bones, and I am not long for the world, or the well. Then it will just be you and my moldy corpse. You will be able to watch the worms and the mud slowly eat away at my flesh until I am just a little pile of bones."

Otto thought he preferred the Gnomes jokes to this depressing speech. But then Garazar gave a grim smile. "But perhaps there is a way out for you after all. Just perhaps. And only the slimmest of hopes, but that alone might stop you going mad down here."

Otto wondered if the Gnome was again toying with him, but its words were similar to his own thoughts, so he silently waited for the creature to continue. It certainly looked more serious that he had seen it so far.

"I saw you take note of the gleam on my finger here." He turned his hand to show Otto the gleam of the gem, mostly hidden under a layer of grime. "Those possessed ones up there were not fully aware of my abilities, when they tossed me down here. I had swallowed this gem to hide it from them and their master, and clouded its presence. I have some small wizarding gifts. Us Gnomes all have at least a sliver of magical power in our bones at birth. And I have perhaps more than some. So when they tossed me down into the well, I used my powers combined with those of this enchanted diamond to change the consistency of the water and mud in the well. It just barely stopped me from being crushed in the fall. Both of my legs were broken - it wasn't a complete success."

Otto grimaced to think of the pain the little creature must have endured. Looking hard into Otto's eyes, Garazar continued. "Despite your quick thinking in grabbing that root as you fell, you probably would have ended up worse off than me. But I used some of the last remaining scraps of power to soften your landing. Also to stop you crushing me. Fortunately they have been throwing a lot of kitchen scraps down. That also helped."

Otto looked at the gem, and back at the Gnome. He wondered briefly how he had recovered the gem after swallowing it, but decided not to think about that too much. The impressive thing was that such a small creature had any magical powers at all, and powers over natural forces like air and water. He imagined the ring must have a powerful enchantment to let the creature work such tricks.

Garazar grinned. "This diamond had strong enchantments, enchantments that help me control some small natural forces, to do little tricks like starting a fire, nothing too fancy. It is called Beyla's tear. This ring and an enchanted sword I fortunately left at home are my pride and joy. Apart, of course, from my wife and daughter."

The Gnome looked sad as he said the last. Otto had not thought of the Gnome as a parent, he had no idea how old the creature was. He could imagine it must be very hard for him, trapped in this well, his family no idea where he was.

"That was why I came. To thank Yselda, we had prayed to her to help my daughter. She is a spirit my wife had told me was known for helping the sick and frail. We didn't know where to turn, now that the great gods have fallen silent. But my little Tami recovered from her illness, and I came here to give thanks, despite my distaste for Aelves. Of course, now my distaste is far greater, even if they are under some dark enchantment."

"A dark enchantment?" Otto asked in surprise.

Garazar nodded. "Yes, despite what you may think, even Aelves are not usually so cruel as to toss visitors down the temple well. There is something else at work. A powerful Daemon has taken over the temple, and its Aelven priestesses."

"How do you know that?"

Garazar's beady eyes gleamed in the dark as he moved slightly in the mush.

"After I fell in here, I sensed something else was hidden in the well. The Daemon did not completely vanquish the temple spirit. My ring helped me discover that the wisps of Yselda's remaining being hid here, deep in the mud and slime.

"With the power of the ring I called out to this spirit, and offered her a contract. If she would exchange the dank well for my ring, and give me the power to climb out of here, I would seek to drive out the Daemon and restore her to the temple. She agreed. Though she said it would be only until my success or my death. She had no desire to be trapped in a gemstone for eternity, even an enchanted one."

Garazar sighed and gave Otto a grim smile. "Unfortunately, however, I could still not climb out of the well. My legs are healing too slowly even with Yselda's help, and the walls are too far apart. Yselda said she would keep me company until I was no more."

Garazar's smile now became broader, and he looked meaningfully at Otto. "But now you are here, and you are far bigger and stronger than me. I believe you might succeed where I have failed, if I can help you to use the magic of the ring. If you are indeed a hero come to our realm, one sent to aid the faerie queene, then perhaps you can." Otto looked into the Gnomes dark beady eyes, and hoped he was right.

Garazar gave Otto the ring, and asked him to try and unlock its powers. It did not take Otto long, however, to realize that Garazar's hope may have been misplaced. After all, Otto was no magician, he was not born with magic powers like a Gnome. He wondered if the Gnome was just desperate and half crazed, stuck at the bottom of a stinky well with broken legs. But Garazar would not give up.

Garazar told him that the gem was a key, and he could use it to unlock the natural world around him. Otto at first felt nothing in the ring. Garazar reminded Otto that Yselda the Aelven spirit was within it. If it would also grant him some of its own power, that would speed things up. If Otto could tap into it he could control some of the powers of nature as well as understand them. But Otto just stared blankly back at him, and shook his head. "I don't get it Garazar."

The Gnome muttered to himself "Are the gods toying with me? Sending me this clod, giving me hope then taking it away." He took a deep breath. "You must open yourself to the ring. Do not try and impose your will, your desires on it. Do not think of it as a thing, but as a separate being, like you. Be open, discover what it is, listen to its voice, no matter how small. And do not be afraid. Only then can you start."

Otto sat there, and tried to do as Garazar said. He knew that if he could not do as he asked, they would die down here. He would never see his companions again, and Garazar would not see his family. Otto had lost his own family, and he didn't want that pain to happen to anyone else. He now considered Colin and the other knights, as well as Aldwyn, his new family. He closed his eyes, and tried to hear anything coming from the ring. He was thinking how crazy it was, that he was no wizard or Gnome, merely a farm boy become a knight, when he felt something. It was as if he had become aware of a small hidden creature he couldn't see or hear. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Something was emanating from the ring, calling to him. It made him break out in a cold sweat. Opening his eyes in shock, and his first impulse was to throw the ring away, or at least give it back to Garazar.

Garazar was watching him. He smiled slowly with the first hint of compassion Otto had seen "You have felt something. That is the first step."

Otto looked scared. "I think I have, but it felt weird. I didn't like the feeling. Maybe it's not for me."

The Gnome shook his head, and wrinkled his nose. "If it wasn't for you, then you wouldn't have felt it. We can't choose it, it chooses us. When it thinks we are ready. Try not to be afraid. It is different, certainly, and new. But if you stick at it, it will not feel nearly as strange. Eventually, you will come to enjoy it. But that also, can be dangerous."

Otto wasn't sure if the Gnomes words reassured him. At least he thought that the Gnome was back to his strange old cryptic self. That was weirdly reassuring. He felt a bit foolish, being scared of magic. What kind of hero did that make him? He supposed that being stuck at the bottom of the well was just making him jumpy. And tired. And hungry.

"I will try again, but I am quite tired." There were stars above the well, and he had no idea how late it was.

"Let's try again tomorrow," Garazar said. "But first, let me tell you a tale, a tale of one of the first Gnomish heroes, Cobbar Peretin."

Otto nodded then, and listened to Garazar's tale, his eyes growing heavy.

"He towered over other Gnomes, was perhaps two and a half feet tall, muscular with a sharp nose and dark eyes. The great Gnomish wizards crafted him a sword so that he could lead us in the goblin wars. They sunk all of their knowledge and magic into its making - it was a sword that could break the strongest barriers.

"However, this great hero could not unlock the swords power. The goblins were on the march, and Cob was the Gnomes last hope to stop utter defeat. He felt that perhaps they had put too much power into the weapon, more than even he could unlock or control. When he had given up all hope, the great wizard's sent him on a quest, to speak to Razaxis, the great copper Dragon.

"Razaxis looked deep into Cob's eyes, and what he saw there was not weakness, but instead fear. He told Cob that he had all the power he needed, but it was fear that stopped him from untapping it. When the power pulled at him, he resisted without knowing it, because he was afraid of accepting it all, and still failing. Razaxis told him that he had to open himself up to the sword and its power and form a complete bond. Only then would he be able to use it."

Otto nodded. Some of what the Gnome said made sense. "What happened to Cob? Did he defeat the goblins?"

"Yes, in a great battle with a goblin hero who had a daemonic sword. Unfortunately, although he defeated the goblin, he was cut quite badly, and the wounds from that sword would not heal. So he died."

Otto was not surprised that one of Garazar's tales had ended like that.

"Well, that's not very reassuring Garazar. Still, I will try not to fear the power of the ring."

Garazar looked at Otto. "I am not saying that you are like Cob, or that the ring has such power, but with all magic, there is a similar process." After saying this, Garazar turned his head to the side of the well and was asleep almost instantly, snoring far too loudly for such a small creature.

Otto cursed. Every night he had to put up with his snoring, amplified in the cramped round space they shared. Just once he wished he could fall asleep before the Gnome. As he was finally falling asleep he entered a strange dream; he was climbing the walls of the well, trying desperately to reach the small circle of light. He heard someone up there calling for help, someone he was sure he knew. But no matter how far he climbed, the light stayed the same size, and the sound of the voice got no louder.

10

Colin realized that the chances of escape were slim. He was not allowed out of the mountain fortress with Gwin, and he had seen that the entrances were all guarded , with locked and barred gates. Colin came up with another plan, but he didn't want to tell Gundi or Khiril yet. He knew something had to be done, or he would be stuck here until Gwin was bored of him, and that might not end well. There was at least one advantage he had now. Grom no longer followed them wherever they went. He saw little need of it anymore, and had other tasks of his own.

The next day, when he was again taken to Gwin's room, he decided to try his plan. "Gwin, can you walk me to Otak's chambers?"

She looked shocked. "I don't go there. They are War-leaders private quarters."

"I thought he out scouting."

"Yes. He is." She nodded, frowning.

"He is your husband, he would not mind." Colin gave his most winning smile.

Gwin frowned, and looked down at Colin. "I could take you in quickly, but guards would tell him."

Colin knew he had to be brave. He smiled in a cheeky way and winked. "Not if they don't know."

Gwin gasped, then placed her hand to her mouth and made a sound he guessed to be giggling. "You are a bad pet! Naughty! But I will go, why not?"

Colin nodded seriously. "Okay, if you think so."

"I do. I am taking you there. But we must be quiet." She put her hand to her mouth again and giggled, before walking down the corridor, and Colin scurried to keep up after the first pull of the chain almost brought him to his knees.

Otak's chamber was full of what he would consider trophies, stuffed beasts and preserved heads as well as skins of various creatures. There were also some large chests of rough hewn wood. "What's in those chests?" Colin asked Gwin, hoping to arouse her curiosity. She looked a bit nervous, looking occasionally back to the doorway, her ears pricked up. This did distract her. She shrugged and came over to look. Colin could barely have lifted the lid but she did easily.

One had more trophies in it, and a rather rank smell. Another had more valuable trophies, it looked like coins, jewelery and armor and weapons of defeated foes. She stared in obvious interest at all these shiny treasures. Colin could see some fine objects, including a long thin sword in a shining scabbard.

"Would you like to play a game?" Colin asked. This took her attention again, and Colin could see that her face was hesitating between excitement and nervousness.

"A game? But we must go back to my room now."

"It is quick. Now we are here."

She hesitated, looking to the chest, to the door, to Colin. "What is game?" Colin could see that she had taken the bait again. But she also seemed increasingly nervous, and he knew he had to tread with care. At this moment some footsteps could be heard coming down the hall.

Gwin's mouth dropped open, and her cheeks went red. She seemed to be frozen in fright. Colin wondered who it could be. From her reaction she thought it was Otak returning early. What would Otak do if he found them here? Colin wondered. Fortunately the footsteps soon faded away, it was someone just passing by. Gwin seemed to relax, and looked around again realizing where she was. Before she could panic Colin smiled and said "I will take something from this chest, and you can guess what it is. You have three guesses. But you have to close your eyes first."

Colin hoped that it would work. Children loved guessing games, and Gwin seemed little more than a child. A child who must be lonely and sad. Apparently Giants only had children every hundred years or so, so it was a rather cold and friendless childhood, that perhaps explained their slower wits and occasional cruelty.

Gwin looked at him, her mouth open, then a huge grin swept across her face. Colin could see that he had guessed right. She put her hand to her mouth to stifle another giggle, and said "Guessing game. Gwin's pet has good games. We will do one, and then go back." She immediately closed her eyes and in fact squeezed her whole face up in such a way that Colin was certain there was no way she could see anything.

He acted quickly, looking through the chest. After a moment, he said "Okay, I have something behind my back from the chest. You can open your eyes."

Gwin dropped her hands, then said in a low voice, obviously worried someone would hear them, "Is it a treasure?"

Colin smiled, wide eyed, "Yes! You are very good at this."

He showed her the thick golden necklace he had taken out, and had been moving behind his back to give her a clue. Gwin giggled, placing her hands to her mouth.

"I like this game. We will go back to my room now, and play more."

Colin nodded. "Okay. I'll just put the treasure back first."

Colin carefully closed the heavy lid of the chest after doing this, while Gwin waited by the door. Then she led him back to her room.

After Colin had returned to his cell, he showed Khiril and Gundi the sword which he had stuffed down the side of his pants. It was of fine workmanship, a medium length narrow bladed sword with strange runes. He had hoped that Gwin or the guard wouldn't notice his stiff walk.

Khiril gasped. "Thandriel."

Gundi looked unimpressed. "Nothing beats good dwarven steel."

Khiril smiled at the blade. "You have freed it, so I want you to have it. Not that it will be of any use here. They say the blade chooses its master, and you deserve it. It is one of my people's great swords."

"Is this your sword Khiril?"

"It was. But our people have others, and we do not own them, as I said. I will teach you its use."

Khiril gently took the blade from Colin, looking it over with admiration before continuing. "Aelven weapons are a combination of art and magic, and their secrets are locked within to be revealed only in times of need, depending also on the wielder. I was never able to completely tap into its power, and only one Aelven prince of my line ever has, in the time of the Great War. If it has called to you, perhaps you can unlock something I couldn't. Even so, I slew several Giants before I was taken."

Colin looked with shock at the slim Aelven prince, and wondered how he could possibly slay even one Giant. He looked at Gundi, but he was not smiling or making wisecracks, so he supposed it was true.

"How did you do it?"

"Slay Giants?"

"Yes."

"Well, the tragedy is that I didn't slay all of them. As the prince and bearer of Thandriel, I was the only one who could. The blades full powers can only be called on at time of darkest need. We see our weapons not as simple pieces of metal, but living beings, that can be called on for assistance and will only answer if the caller is worthy. I was not worthy enough to save my men."

Colin looked down at the weapon in his hand. It was a sword, of obviously wondrous craftsmanship, but still just a sword. He had heard tales of magical weapons. But he had thought them tales of invention to tell eager children around the fire. To think he could be holding such a mystical weapon here. The sensation he had felt from the weapon must have been real, and even now he felt a tingling like pins and needles in his hand, as if it was calling to his blood.

"Can you teach me more about this sword?" Colin asked.

"I think I have the time to introduce you to Thandriel, if she will let me."

Over the next few days, when no guards were nearby, Khiril told Colin what he could of Aelven weapons and their enchantments. He began to explain to Colin the runes that were on the blade. Colin tried to grasp the meanings behind these runes, as Khiril said that it was both a spell for calling on the powers of the sword, as well as the swords name. He said that he should understand how to pronounce the runes, try to understand the meaning behind each, saying them over and over in his mind. He told Colin to think of it as a kind of meditation, getting in tune with the sword's inner spirit.

To demonstrate, one night Khiril whispered the runes, and the sword answered with a softly pulsing white glow. Then he spoke another rune of closing, and the glow faded away. Colin was entranced by this demonstration of the swords inner power. Khiril handed the sword to Colin, and told him to try. Colin whispered the runes to the sword, but nothing happened. All he noticed was the tingling in his hand was stronger this time - some kind of connection between his body and the sword itself. He shook his head. "I felt something - a tingling in my hand - but that was all."

Khiril nodded. "That is enough for now. It means that there is some communication. You must keep trying, every day, until you feel it grow stronger, until you can hear the voice of the sword."

Colin tried again, concentrating on all the things he had been told. It would be many days before he finally saw a faint gleam, and felt some power flowing between him and the sword. Khiril nodded and told him that this was great progress, that should get easier and easier. As he trained himself, a new plan formed in his mind. It was something that he thought might give them a chance to get out of here, although it was a desperate one. But he knew that he couldn't stay here much longer hoping for some miraculous rescue. Sooner or later Gwin would tire of her pet, or Otak would finish him. He could tell that Otak had a growing distaste for his wife's pet.

As he lay on his patch of cold straw that night, trying to get to sleep, Colin thought about the situation he was in. It was certainly a lot worse than he had imagined. He knew that there may be risks in this world, but he had never considered the possibility of being captured by Giants. He knew that in one way, at least, he was fortunate. He had met an Aelf and a dwarf, both leaders of their people. And they had readily accepted him as an ally. Perhaps it was partly due to the dire situation they were all in, but he didn't think that was the whole reason.

Gundi and Khiril both seemed to genuinely want to help him, despite his having come here from another world. He couldn't help but admire their nobility of spirit. Back in Saxony, often outsiders were looked on with suspicion at best. Colin and the other squires gathered by Aldwyn had faced a sense of hostility even from some of the other Templars. They had seen them as invading a noble tradition through a wizard's whims. But here, Gundi and Khiril accepted him as an ally, despite their obvious importance and rank. Their warm comradeship had made his time here bearable.

Finding strong companions like these had also helped give him strength in Canelorn Castle, strength to ignore the disdain and taunts of the squires who were not chosen by Aldwyn. Colin had always wanted to protect those he cared about, at first his grandmother and members of his gang, later Otto and the other squires. He had sworn he would always protect his friends, no matter what. He would not be like his father. He had found new allies here, and now he wanted to help them escape as well. And if they could not escape, how would he help the other twelve knights, the friends he had sworn to fight alongside and protect? With these tangled thoughts, Colin drifted off to sleep.

11

Otto struggled with his training. The Gnome pushed him mercilessly. "Do you want to live in this stink for ever?" Of course he didn't. But he found it hard to believe that he could control such power. He had had a hard enough time believing he could be a half-decent knight, and now he was being asked to do wizarding work as well. In a funny kind of way, Garazar reminded Otto of Colin. Like Garazar, Colin had been hard on him. When they first met, he had ignored him, with a look that said he couldn't understand what the wizard saw in this fat farmboy. But then after Aldwyn had some words with him, Colin had begun to grudgingly help Otto.

First he had shown him how to defend himself as they made their way towards Canelorn. He had broken off some branches, and at night, when Otto really just wanted to brush down the ponies and go to bed, he had showed him the ins and outs of stick fighting. For Otto, this usually meant receiving numerous blows until he was eating dirt and his own blood. He had been sore and tired enough from the days riding, without ending each day like that.

He had wished Aldwyn hadn't talked Colin into helping him. But Colin said "I will teach you how to fight, and you will help me with the book learning in the castle. I left school young, to look after my grandmother." Otto knew Colin was tough, and had had a hard life. He had grown up in the city, living in gangs that often got into fights. Otto had grown up on a farm, looked after by his Uncle and Auntie, spending most of his time weeding or caring for the cows. He had liked the quiet, gentle country life, even if his cousin and the other children at school were quite cruel to him. Then he was taken out of that life to travel with a wizard and a city ruffian. He wasn't sure then if he was better off.

But as time went by, he had begun to appreciate Colin's efforts. He was always sore but he began to feel a certain pride in being able to fend off at least a couple of Colin's blows. Aldwyn would sit smoking a pipe by the fire and grunt in approval whenever he did. "You will make a warrior of the farm boy yet Colin." Colin would smile, and redoubled his efforts, sending Otto sprawling into the dirt again. Slowly a bond built up between them. When some of the other squires at the castle, mostly aristocrats, began to pick on Otto, Colin would stand up to them. At first Otto thought that Colin just missed fighting, but he began to realize that Colin saw him as a comrade, perhaps even a friend. They were the first of the arch-mage's squires to arrive, and both were of less than noble backgrounds. It helped cement the bond that Aldwyn had started.

Otto wondered if the Gnome was also simply trying to push Otto to break past his fears and uncertainties, as Colin had. He knew their time was limited. The longer Otto stayed in the well, the more his hunger grew. He might become skinny, but would probably die first. The Gnome ate some of the kitchen scraps, and the bugs that also fed on those scraps. Colin had doubted his stomach was as strong as the Gnomes, and at first had refused. But in the end his hunger overcame him, and he had started to eat the moldy potatoes, rice and leftover fruit scraps, as well as some of the bugs that bred down here. At first they had come up again, but his stomach adjusted, perhaps with Yselda's help, and he managed to get some sustenance.

They had survived like that for over two weeks. but there had been no new scraps dropped down for the last couple of days. He knew that he had to master this strange power, before his strength failed him. He was also worried about Garazar, daily his cough sounded more serious, though he never complained. But Otto could now sense the call of the ring, and another power within it, that he guessed was Yselda. When he stirred up a small breeze, Garazar smiled and patted him on the arm. "Good, good, Midguardian. You are beginning to feel the power. It is within you, the ability. Work on the wind, the water and the earth between the mortar. Sense the power they have, and call on that power."

Otto was quite proud of his small triumphs. Each little victory renewed his strength, and pushed him to do more. He could stir up small ripples in the murky water and even began to stir the earth between the stones of the well. This was the hardest. Connecting to this power felt heavy, darker. It took all his strength to even get a small stirring in the earth. But the ring seemed to urge him on, to lend him its power. Garazar smiled. "You are almost ready. They seem to have stopped dropping their scraps, so you must try and escape soon, while you still have the strength. You must use all your power, and hopefully Yselda will also lend you some of hers. Climbing out will require you to grip the slippery stones, so you must master control of that, and try to hear Yselda's voice. I am sure she will lend you her strength."

Otto nodded. He knew that Garazar was right. As much as he would like to spend weeks and months mastering the power of the ring, it was time he did not have. If he was going to escape, it had to be soon.

Otto told Garazar that he was going to make the attempt. He felt a stronger connection with Yselda, it had made the power within the ring a lot easier to control, as if someone was guiding and supporting him. It was a good feeling, a small voice that encouraged him and helped guide him. That small voice was now urging him on, telling him to try and scale the walls of the well. He had practiced climbing a couple of feet, and had only fallen a few times at the start. Of course, those falls were only a couple of feet. But staying put any longer was not an option.

He grasped the first stone, and used his power to push away the mud and slime, and grip onto the stone beneath. Now that the stones felt dry, there was enough projecting for his feet and hands to grip, and he slowly began to climb up.

After several feet, he was tempted to look down, but the small voice in his head told him to just keep looking ahead, or at his hands as they gripped the rock. He felt his arms and legs beginning to tremble. He had been at the bottom of the well for a long time, and he had lost a lot of strength. But he had also lost some weight, he was lighter, which helped. Yselda's gentle voice entered his mind, saying You are doing well, it is not much further, I will give you some of my power, my spirit, it should be enough to sustain you.

Otto felt a wave of gratitude, he knew without Yselda's help he would not have the strength within him. It was the first time that he had clearly heard her voice. He felt a renewed sense of connection with her, he knew that she had been helping to guide and support him. If he made it out, he had to somehow try and restore the temple.

His hand slipped, and he swayed in the cold air of the well. He quickly grasped at another stone, and told himself to concentrate. The top of the well was close, and although it was barely dawn, the light seemed so bright that he had to squint his eyes. They had grown weak after living in the murk for so long.

At last, his right hand slipped over the top of the well, and with the last ounce of his strength he dragged his aching body over the rim. With a last heave he pushed himself over the sides of the well back onto the solid ground.

He lay there gasping as waves of relief swept through him. He looked up at the early dawn sky. Wisps of cloud tinged orange and pink were drifting far above. It was a beautiful, magical sight, and the cool grass and earth underneath him felt wonderful. He had doubted if he would ever be above ground again. A slight tugging at his mind reminded him that he was still far from safe, and he slowly looked about the garden. All was quiet, just the trees and shrubs stirring in the breeze, and some small songbirds flitting about while calling out to one another.

12

"What troubles you Colin?" A frown crossed Khiril's usually tranquil face. "Your training goes well. Your control of the blade is admirable, and you seem to have gained some understanding of the runes. They no longer sound so clumsy on your tongue."

Colin nodded. "You are right. I feel that the blade is becoming more familiar. I hope that I can master these Aelven runes, something is becoming clearer to me. It's just that Gwin has not asked for me for several days."

"Do you miss the big lass?" Gundi asked with a smirk. "Used to be you did nothing but complain of how she treated you."

Colin shook his head. "No, I don't miss that. But all this training may be for nothing if I never get out of here again."

"What are you planning? Taking on all the Giant's in the mountain? Even that enchanted weapon, if you master it, will not help you there, I am afraid. Even a great dwarven hammer would not prevail."

"I am sure you are right. But I will not give up. Something will arise."

"These midguardians certainly keep a bright outlook, even in the pits of Hel," Gundi said.

Khiril smiled and nodded. "Aye, and we need to believe that escape is a possibility too. Look at what Colin has achieved so far," Khiril indicated the sword. Colin decided that he just had to believe Gwin would relent and allow him to see her again. He must have scared her when he got her to visit Otak's room. For now he just had to concentrate on training to use the slimmer Aelven sword.

Later as he lay down to sleep Colin thought of Otto, and how he had helped Colin in the studies he had had to undertake as a Templar squire. That application to his studies, which Otto had helped instill in him, was what aided him in understanding the runes. Khiril patiently explained the basics of the Aelven runes, the meaning of each, and how they worked together as they did on the sword. It was a lot for him to absorb and hold in his memory, but it was something that Khiril said he needed. It was the only way to untap the swords power.

His gratitude towards Otto for helping him master his studies was what had helped him to appreciate the farm boy. At first he had thought him useless. He had tried to help him learn to fight as Aldwyn asked. With a small smile to himself, Colin remembered how Otto had seemed afraid of the weakest blows, and had little strength despite his farm upbringing. Back then Colin had thought that the other knights and squires would laugh with derision at both of them when Aldwyn brought them back, but mainly at Otto.

But after a while he saw that Otto had a certain steely endurance and stubbornness. Despite his constant beatings, he began to show a desire to at least try and learn something about defending himself. Colin never went easy on him, and he could see that Otto appreciated it in the end. He wondered how Otto would be faring. If he was in a situation like Colin, was he now able to overcome his fears and try to find a solution? If he had to fight, would the training he had received at the castle and with Colin be sufficient? They had become close friends, almost like brothers, and Colin hoped that he was okay.

Finally, Gwin relented, and Colin was called back to Gwin's chambers to reprise his role as her pet. After a couple of days, Colin decided that he would try and see if the idea he had had might work. "Are you going to visit the throne room today Gwin?" Colin asked after Grom had left them. Gwin shook her head. "No, not today."

"Why not?"

Gwin frowned. Colin rarely asked her such questions. "When Otak goes there, is council. It's boring."

Colin said "I have a new game Gwin."

That made her smile uncertainly, her eyes opening wide. "Another guess game?"

Colin smiled and winked. "It is a surprise. Do you like surprises?"

Gwin frowned, then slowly smiled and put her hands to her mouth to suppress a giggle. She nodded.

"But we have to go to the throne room first. Otherwise the game won't work. Just for a few minutes."

Gwin looked confused. "Colin has silly games." She frowned, thinking, and then smiled again. "Okay, we go to throne room for short time, then play game after."

Colin sighed with relief, as Gwin led him towards the throne room. When they entered the throne-room Otak was there as Gwin had said. There was a discussion going on with several fearsome looking Giants, Otak at the center of it and King Hathar looking on. For a moment there was silence when they entered as the Giants looked around. Otak saw them both and frowned. He didn't appreciate the interruption.

"You still have this pet? I think it is time you grew up Gwin. Bring it here."

She shook her head instinctively. If there was one thing she did not want to lose, Colin thought, it was her pets. Otak had taken everything else.

"What?" Otak was shocked at her refusal. The other Giants looked amused, which made him even angrier. He stood up and walked towards her.

Colin knew now was the time to act. With a deep breath he shouted "I challenge you to a death-battle Otak."

Colin shouted this at the top of his lungs, but barely sounded as loud as Gwin in the huge chamber.

The other Giants stood stunned for a moment, then they burst into laughter. Otak stopped mid-stride, struck dumb. Then he looked as mad and dangerous as Colin imagined a Giant could look. Gwin picked Colin up, and protectively held him close to her chest. This only made Otak grow more furious, if that was possible.

"Do you think you can protect him from me, your husband?" He yelled at her. "Do not forget I won you in battle."

"And I will free her." Colin yelled. This brought more laughter from the other Giants. Otak looked at them with fury, then moved slowly but purposefully towards Gwin, who squealed and squeezed Colin tighter. Colin was worried he might be crushed to death after all, when with a rattle, the Master of Bones moved in front of the Gwin and Colin.

"He had made a challenge Otak, just as you did. Are you afraid to accept it?"

Though towering over the Master of Bones, Otak stopped. He looked around at the other Giants. A silence fell, Colin could see he was thinking, a cold and malevolent fury glinting from his dark eyes.

"That was Giant to Giant. He is Gwin's pet. But if you wish to waste time." He glared slowly around at the other Giants around the hall. With a dismissive tone in his voice he finally said "Yes, I will accept this challenge."

The other Giants cheered and laughed again. The Master of Bones nodded, and rattled his way back to the King's side.

"Challenge! Challenge!" the Giants chanted, stomping their feet or weapons on the ground, making dust and some small rock shards fall from the roof.

Otak now slowly smiled. "Well, Gwin, say goodbye to your pet, for the last time. Soon it will be wolf-meat. And I will tenderize it well with my club. Bring it down to the arena, but say goodbye to it first." With a vicious grin, he turned and strode quickly from the throne-room.

They stood in the arena, built on a plateau on the side of the mountain. Colin could see the steam rising above from the mountain's peak, and wondered at the wisdom of building into the side of a volcano. It was a cold and overcast day, with a fresh gusting breeze that cut straight through clothes into the flesh beneath.

On the stone seats that surrounded them were several score of Giants. They shouted out their encouragement and derision, in a thunderous tumult. Colin hoped their shouts and pounding of the ground didn't bring the side of the mountain down upon them all. Now that he stood here, surrounded by scores of battle mad Giants, he wondered again at the wisdom of his plan. Challenge the Giant's War-Leader to a battle to the death.

Fifty feet away on the other side of the arena, Otak stood, swinging his huge club, a small oak tree shorn of its limbs, with several cruel metal spikes embedded along its darkly stained surface. Colin hoped he didn't end up as just another stain on that club.

The Master of Bones had finished his ceremonial dance around the outside of the arena, waving and shaking his staff at the frozen sky,. His dance was accompanied by the stomping cheers of the seated Giants. As it ended the Master of Bones walked off the arena and King Hathar stood, telling the combatants to ready themselves. They had given Colin a small club, perhaps a child's toy, but it was still too big and heavy for him. It was so wide his hands struggled to grip it. Otak had leather armor covered in various metal plates and studs, while Colin had his dirty Templar uniform.

Otak screamed and charged at him, as other Giants thudded the ground in approval. He thought he heard Gwin's faint cry of fear. She didn't want to lose her pet.

Dropping his club, Colin pulled his sword out from the side of his thick breeches. Being an Aelven blade, it was small and narrow enough to be concealed. He doubted that the Giants would care about what would look like a small needle to them. He held the sword there as the Giant rushed closer, and spoke the Aelven runes. Now that he was outside, with the wind and snow and smoke whirling about, the power felt more raw and primitive. The blade flashed in the morning light. He raised his sword quickly to take the blow of the club. Otak's brow darkened with surprise, even a flash of doubt, but then primal rage swallowed all as he swung his club down at Colin.

Colin's blade met the club as it fell. He felt the energy flowing in the blade, as Khiril had taught him. He channeled it into his block, and the blade glowed with a faint white light. When the club struck, the light flashed, and white fire licked at the club. Colin was knocked backwards by the blow, but his sword broke off several spikes and left a long charred channel on the club. The white flames as the weapons struck had licked up towards Otak, making him stagger back in surprise.

The Giant now looked equally angry and uncertain. Colin felt he had to press his advantage, and with a yell of his own he charged at the War-leader. The Giant's instincts took over, he lifted his club to ward off Colin's attack. But his hesitation and uncertainty cost him, and Colin turned his blade, and with a sidestep, tore up into Otak's wrist. He heard the flesh sizzle and Otak cried out in fury. Colin felt that the blade itself screamed in delight as it tasted Otak's blood. It seemed to absorb some dark power from the Giant.

That power now coursed through Colin's veins. With a triumphant yell Colin leapt up, up on top of Otak's club that had hit the ground, and leapt from there towards the Giants shocked face. His blade swung down and sunk itself deep into his skull, flashing bright under the clouds. Otak dropped his club, falling backwards. Colin landed on his chest, and the blood came loose, he swung it again and plunged it deep into the Giant's heart. When he drew it out, the Giant was thrashing in his death throes, before falling still, mouth gaping and eyes staring blankly at the clouds overhead.

Colin stood there, trembling with the strange power that had flooded him. He sensed that there had been something evil in the Giant, something that his blade had absorbed. Something dangerous that now raged in his won blood. But then the sword seemed to suck it back out of him, and disperse it into the air. The air felt clearer, with that malevolent spirit gone.

There was a shocked silence from those assembled Giants. Colin's fears returned to him; he had hidden a weapon in his clothes, and an enchanted weapon as well. But then he heard something - the Giants were stamping their feet and weapons on the ground in a steadily increasing rhythm. There was a break in the clouds overhead and some morning sun broke through, glistening on the snowdrifts. Colin saw Gwin leave her stone bench and run towards him. Seeing her happy tearful face, he realized that he was safe, for now. She lifted Colin up, and presented him to the other Giants like a trophy. They yelled out their approval. Their blood-lust had been sated. Colin hung there like a puppet in her hands, and smiled.

Later that day Colin stood before the King's throne, before all of the mountain Giants. To one side sat the Master of Bones, and as Colin stood there, another Giant he had not seen before slowly entered. This Giant was slightly stooped over and was using a staff to support himself. He took the empty chair on the other side of the King. He was old, with a long white plaited beard. He wore a thick black bear-pelt coat, the bears head resting over his own like a hood. Around his neck hung a necklace of raven skulls. The long black-wood staff he held was carved with what Colin guessed were primitive runes of the Giants. He was missing his right eye, and his remaining eye of glacial blue glinted with an icy intelligence.

King Hathar said "You have won the death-battle, but there were some questions we had to put to the elders, including the Master of Bones and our warlock, Surak," he indicated the new Giant that had entered, "who has returned. It was decided to allow the use of your enchanted sword. We will not ask how you got it. You were fighting our War-Leader, who had armor where you had none. And you have done us a favor. Only now that Otak is slain, our warlock Surak has recovered from his long illness."

The King nodded to the old Giant sitting in the black and red stone chair. "He has told us that there was a great darkness, a darkness that wanted to control our people, and had used Otak as its puppet. It had caused the wasting disease that struck him down, from which he recovered upon Otak's death. This darkness had taunted him in his sickness, and you have freed him of it. The War-leader's heart had allowed itself to be corrupted by a daemonic spirit, much to our peoples shame. The fire Giants have always been allied to the Daemon's; both are our mortal enemies."

Surak now stood, and moved slowly forward to stand before Colin. "I thank you, outsider. Your bravery has put us to shame, you have freed me from the evil spell, and also freed us all from this curse. Even Otak's spirit thanks you." The other Giants stomped their feet in approval, though not as feverishly as they had with the Master of Bones. "Our debt is great - ask of us what you will."

Colin cleared his throat, and spoke up so as to be heard in the cavernous hall. "I only ask freedom for myself and the other two captives, and that we be returned our weapons and armor."

King Hathar nodded. "This is our honor. We are in your debt, Sir Colin of Midguard."

Colin could see that Gwin was upset, realizing that she was going to lose Colin forever. He felt that he also owed her a debt. "I also ask one more thing, if I can." King Hathar nodded.

"I ask that Gwin be allowed to freely choose her own mate." There was a slightly angry murmur from the assembled Giants, he sensed they thought he was interfering in Giant's business. But Hathar raised his hand to silence them.

"You have heard Sir Colin. This is his request, and it shall be granted. Gwin shall choose her own mate, to be bound to her for life. And their union shall be a reminder of our debt to Colin."

Gwin looked confused, but then with a warm smile and a giggle gave Colin all the reward he could wish. Apart from being as far away from here as soon as possible. He would never get used to the cold. If it wasn't for the volcano's heat seeping up through the rocks, he would have frozen to death long ago.

13

Otto moved behind some trees in the outer garden. He could see the main temple building, its white walls catching the orange-pink hues of the morning sun. Before he had thought it a beautiful, wondrous place. Now that he knew what had usurped the heart of the temple, he thought that it seemed more sinister and deadly. Beautiful on the outside, but rotten and evil at the core.

He knew he had to be especially careful now. He had to make his way across the gardens and back into the main temple grounds. Garazar told him the Daemon would be hiding somewhere in the main temple building. Now that he was here, he felt fear wash over him. Despite his assurances to the Gnome, he really had no idea how to defeat a Daemon. He did not even know what one looked like. He should have swallowed his pride and at least found that much out. Could he simply go to the faerie queene and come back for Garazar? Otto sighed, he knew he could not do that. What kind of knight would that make him? He did not even know how to get to the faerie queene.

He carefully looked around the corner of a tree. He could hear some distant laughter, but could see nothing moving in the garden. He quickly moved over to a larger tree, and then paused again to listen. He heard some light footsteps, and saw the legs of one of the Aelven priestesses walking along the path through the garden. Otto knew now that they were somehow under daemonic control, so he did not want to hurt her. Anyway it was just as likely she could hurt him. As she got closer, he used what he had learned to raise a small breeze with the ring's power. He was able to rustle the leaves of a small tree on the other side of the path. He could feel her attention distracted. He leaped out and grabbed her before she could draw her sword.

Unfortunately, he had not seen her companions just behind her. They drew their swords, and one leaped forward and placed her sword at his neck with a smile.

"So, our guest had decided the well is not to his liking. We will have to find him better accommodation." It was Melorn, looking as lovely as ever, although now Otto could recognize the hard cunning lurking at the back of her gaze. He could feel the evil influence over her mind and body. He could also tell that if he made one wrong move she would stick the blade through his neck. He released the other priestess, and held his hands up.

"Good. I think that you have earned yourself a visit to Yselda. She will be waiting for you."

Otto wondered what she meant. But then he realized that the Daemon must have warped their minds. They thought that they were still serving Yselda, not the Daemon that had usurped her place. Melorn signaled for Otto to walk in front of them. He did as she asked, he could feel the sharp blade of her sword in his back. As he walked he wondered what he should do. He gathered his thoughts. What had he learned that could be useful here?

Otto came up with a plan, although it was a desperate one. As he walked, he caused the stones beneath his feet to slip so that he fell forward. As he fell, he twisted around and put his feet around Melorn's, twisting further so that he caused her to fall. Then he quickly grabbed the sword she dropped as she fell, and held it to her neck.

He smiled to himself. All that training and bruises he had received from Colin had paid off in the end.

"Put you swords down."

Colin looked at the other two priestesses, and they slowly did as he said. Holding the sword at Melorn's neck, he slowly moved over and picked them up in his other hand.

They were near the entrance to the outer garden. It had wooden doors, and he told them to sit still while he closed the doors and put across the latch. He hoped that would hold them for a while.

At least now, Otto thought, he was armed, and might have the element of surprise. He quietly walked through the grounds of the temple, not aware of anyone else nearby. But he knew that there were at least a dozen more of the bewitched Aelven in the Temple, and he had no idea how he could possibly get past them all and make it to the inner sanctum.

As he wondered what to do next he felt a tugging at his mind. He realized that it was coming from the spirit within the ring. He could sense Yselda telling him where to go, so he followed the urgings. He walked around the side of the temple, to a thick arbor of laurel bushes. Pushing in past these, he felt along the wall, and could make out what felt like a tiny crack. He followed it around, and could tell that it was the outline of a door.

He laid his hand on it, and using the ring as Garazar had taught him, sensed the mechanism of the latch through the stonework. He concentrated and carefully moved the latch, then pushed at the door. It slid silently inward, and he quickly crawled through the small doorway and closed it quietly behind him. At least he had shown that he could use the powers he had learned.

Otto thought that he was probably behind the inner sanctum of the Temple, going from the descriptions Garazar had given him. He was in a narrow passageway, and on the opposite wall it looked like there was another secret door, but this time the handle was on his side. Slowly Otto pushed the door open. He listened and couldn't hear anything from the room beyond. He felt something dark clawing slowly but purposefully towards him. Yselda was sending an urging to his mind. Hurry! The doors, lock the doors! It is here, it will call them.

There was such urgency, such fear in her voice, that Otto didn't hesitate, didn't think. Seconds seemed to matter. He ran quickly through the door and into the chamber. He was only dimly aware of his surroundings, concentrating on the door he saw at the other side of the chamber. It was a large double door of some heavy wood, and it was closed. But he sensed it was not locked and that there were several Aelven not too far beyond. Their minds were closed within and warped by the darkness, a darkness that centered somewhere in this inner sanctum.

He felt that darkness scream in fury as he ran through the chamber. The evil radiated out from a large white statue. As he ran, their attention shifted to the chamber, the scream had alerted them as well. Otto knew that they were now running towards him, towards the inner sanctum. He found the long beam and placed it across the door, within its rests. A moment later the doors shook as the priestesses tried to open them. He thought it was strong enough to hold them, at least for now.

He turned, hearing a thud behind him. His mouth fell slack and his blood froze in fear. The statue he had glanced at as he ran by had turned it's head and was looking down at him. A huge white marble likeness of a beautiful Aelven woman. It stepped down from it's pedestal and he heard it's steely voice in his mind.

Well done Midguardian, but this Temple will be your tomb. All you have done is seal your fate.

He stood frozen in fear as it raised a fist to strike him. The ring sent him a burst of urgency that overcame his fear and he leapt aside just as the fist came crashing down to splinter the tiled floor. The statue moved with surprising speed, and Otto searched his mind desperately for a plan. He had his new power, but of what use could it be against this? He felt Yselda again trying to tell him something, and he tried to open his mind to her despite his terror. Her gentle melodic voice entered his mind.

You must grab hold of the statue, try to send me back. It is the only way.

Otto avoided the statue as it reached out to grab him. He fell back, wondering at these words. Grab it? He would be crushed. He rolled aside, trying to block out his fear. He steeled himself and with a yell dived forward, under the swinging arm that brushed him with a glancing blow.

Otto grabbed onto one of its legs. He sensed the Daemon writhe in fury within the stone shell, and he held on as best he could as the leg tried to kick him off. He concentrated on doing as Yselda said and sending her into the marble.

That's it!

Yselda urged him on.

Use all your force.

He felt the marble hand grabbing him, and he gave the spirit all his power, trying to send it back into the statue. He sensed the Daemon scream in fury and fear. The hand let him go, the statue stumbled.

Then Yselda left his ring, she flowed into the statue, pushing the Daemon further and further back. There was a howl of fury that gave him chills, he saw a dark thick fluid pour out of the statue to pool on the floor. Waves of malevolence emanated from the black pool. Otto realized with relief that they must have won.

Look out!

The power of the warning rocked him. Yselda again called out to his mind, this time from within the statue. He saw the black pool bubble and steam, and a dark arm clawed out of it. Then another, followed by a head and shoulders. It was a face of pure evil, black as night, with red eyes and several small horns on its face and head. It had a large jaw full of long pointed teeth, and as it fully emerged Colin could see that it had a long, strangely jointed body. It had clawed bird-like feet and four long arms with clawed hands. It screamed and rushed forward.

Otto knew that this could be it for him. Then the statue swung its arm, knocking the Daemon back. But it sprang back to its feet, laughing in a deep grating voice. "You will not keep me from my prey, Spirit. After I deal with your servant then this time I will destroy you utterly."

With these words, the Daemon ran up the side of the temple chamber's stone walls, its talons leaving black holes as it climbed swiftly and ran along the roof. Its head twisted down, its red eyes looking down on Otto and Yselda. Otto wondered what he could do. He could see that the Daemon was far faster than the statue, it had been taken by surprise the first time. Could he use the ring to make the creature slip from the roof? He felt it was too far away. And now he lacked Yselda's additional power.

Then the door behind them burst open with a crack of broken timber. A flying splinter just missed him. He was frozen in fear. The Daemon above was preparing to leap down and now there was new danger behind him. The Daemon fell upon him.

As it fell towards Otto, a figure from the doorway leaped forwards. It went past Otto, swinging a bright sword. The Daemon screamed and twisted as it fell, but it could not avoid the blow of the sword that swung through the air in a gleaming arc. The blade tore through the twisting, screaming Daemon. It fell to the floor, where it lay, writhing like a felled serpent, slowly dissolving back into the black liquid. But this time the fluid steamed and sizzled, dissolving into the air until there was nothing left.

Otto fell to his knees, unable to take any more surprises. He saw the smiling face of Colin, holding a faintly glowing sword. "Otto, it looks like I've saved your sorry butt once again."

14

After they embraced and looked at each other in wonder, Otto remembered Garazar still stuck at the bottom of the well. "I was tossed into a well, and there is a Gnome down there that saved me."

Colin raised his eyes "A Gnome? Is that where you got that fancy ring?"

Otto nodded, and looked down at it. "Yes, he helped me greatly. We have to get him out."

Khiril had overheard their talk and said "Don't worry too much, Gnomes are notoriously hard to kill. He could probably survive down there on slugs and slime for another hundred years. But if he aided you, I will get my men to send a bucket down."

"Thank-you Prince Khiril. I made him a promise."

"It is fine. We usually avoid Gnomes, that these are dark and chaotic times. Perhaps even Gnomes can be of some use, rather than the nuisance they usually are."

After he said this, Otto noticed a slight frown on his face, and realized he had been looking at the ring on his finger. Perhaps he recognizes it as an enchanted ring of the Gnomes, Otto thought.

Garazar came up in the bucket, frowning at them as he was pulled out. Otto tried to stifle a smile as the frowning Gnome's face rose from the well. He was obviously a bit uncomfortable at being transported in a wooden pail. Finally he was lifted out, the bucket placed on the ground beside the well. "I see that you have done well Otto." Garazar said, stifling a cough as he sat in the bucket.

As Otto nodded, Khiril said "Are you going to get out of there Gnome?"

"His legs are injured, Prince Khiril." Otto said.

"Ah," Khiril said, looking down at the Gnome with no tenderness. "Well, once the priestesses have recovered they should be able to care for him, and cure his sickness as well." He turned to a tall Aelf standing at his side. "Vaelin, take him to the Temple chambers."

Vaelin nodded, and lifted Garazar again in his bucket. Otto felt sorry for the little creature as he was carried off, trying without any real success to look unconcerned by this method of travel. "Thanks Garazar," he said, as the Gnome was carried from the garden. Garazar gave him a small smile, a wink and a nod. He knew he probably owed the Gnome his life. Perhaps they all did. He thought that Prince Khiril could have been more gracious, but it seemed that Aelfs and Gnomes were not on great terms.

"I think that you should have a bath Otto," Colin said. He smiled and shook his head at his friend. "I've got to tell you, you stink."

"So would you if you spent a couple of weeks at the bottom of a well."

With a meaningful look Colin said "I saw a bathing fountain in the center of the Temple Gardens."

Otto frowned.

"What is it?"

"Oh nothing, just brings back some memories. How long will the temple maidens be unconscious?"

"Khiril said it was for a few hours, they had a lot to recover from."

"Perhaps I will go over and take that bath now."

"You do that."

Otto did feel a lot better after his bath. He found Colin and they sat together in the temple gardens. Colin put his hand around Otto's shoulders and gave him a friendly shake. "Well, Sir Otto, we at least have found each other. Khiril said that he will guide us to the faerie queene's realm. Hopefully we will find some of the others on the way. It seems that the great Aldwyn's magic skills were not quite what he said. Both of us arrived within the realm of the wood-Aelves. It is in the east of Albion, far from our destination. We must cross the sea to find it."

Otto smiled. "Just having you with me makes me feel that we will find her. I thought I was the only one. It means that the others must be here somewhere."

"Khiril thinks that Aldwyn's spell may have not worked due to the chaotic energies in the realm. Daemons are behind this, and are causing trouble with other realms of Albion as well. He says that any extra knights will be appreciated in the fight against the Daemons and their allies."

Otto nodded. He thought that for perhaps the first time in his life he had been brave. Entering the temple and taking on a Daemon was by far the bravest thing he had ever done. Although he needed help in the end, he had faced great danger, and risked his life. It was a good feeling, to know that it was within him. Seeing how strong Colin was becoming also gave him great hope. Surely the faerie queene would welcome such knights. Certainly a better welcome than the head priestess had given him in her imitation of the faerie queene. He wondered if any of the others had yet found their way to her.

Otto asked Colin what had happened to him since coming to Albion, and how he had met these other Aelves.

Colin explained to Otto what had led him here, the story of his capture by the Giants and how he had escaped. He told him how he had been imprisoned with Khiril and Gundi, and how he came upon Khiril's sword, now Colin's. Otto shook his head in wonder.

"I thought I had it tough."

Colin smiled. "It sounds like you did. After we left the mountain Giants, we came across a small group of Aelven soldiers who gave us horses. Some said they would take Gundi west to the closest port, the rest said that they would accompany us back to the capital. The last thing I heard from him as he rode off with them was something between a grunt and a growl. Khiril told me that dwarves get like that, they aren't great at expressing emotion." Colin smiled, "But I think even Khiril warmed to the dwarf in the end."

Khiril wandered over and said, "Did I hear the word dwarf? You know that that word is painful to Aelven ears. Try to remember Colin, I am in my own lands now, I have my reputation to think of."

Colin smiled. "Yes, your Highness, I will try to remember."

Khiril narrowed his eyes, and nodded, "Good, I will return to my preparations then, and hope not to hear any more tales of dwarves."

Khiril walked back to where he was preparing the fine Aelven horses.

Colin then said, "Anyway, after that we were travelling back to the Aelven capital, when Khiril had sensed something amiss in this temple. We had not known of your plight, and had arrived just in time, it seems. Khiril had managed to subdue the Aelven priestesses, using a word of power on them to knock them out. The Forest Aelves have powers tied to the spirits of their lands, and Khiril's own powers had only just begun to return to him."

Otto was just relieved that it was all over. He felt that Colin had ended up being the real hero. He had not expected any of this when the spell was being cast back in Midguard. Otto knew that they were fortunate to have an Aelven prince of Vidraelfheim as their guide.

Colin told him that Khiril wanted to speak personally to the faerie queene, tell her what had befallen his people, after they all returned to the Vidraelfr capital. Khiril had first to report to his family and people his safe return, before setting off again.

Khiril overheard Colin talking to Otto. "Yes, my mother and sister would not forgive me if I did not pay a visit at least. We can refresh ourselves there, before journeying to see Xanthia, the faerie queene in Ljosaelfheim. We will need to take passage on one of my peoples ships."

Otto nodded. He now realised just how far they were from their destination, but at least they had a strong ally to aid them in their journey.

Before he left, Otto returned alone to the inner chamber of the Temple. The statue of Yselda stood restored on its pedestal, calmly looking down on him. He bowed before the spirit, silently thanking her. He heard her in his mind again.

You have done well, Otto of Midguard. Wear Beyla's stone with pride. It is a frozen tear of the goddess, a rare thing indeed. Place your hand on mine and I will give you a last blessing.

Otto stood and slowly placed his warm hand on her cool marble one. He felt her energy flowing into him. The diamond emitted a pale light that glittered over his face and Yselda's garments. He smiled up at her one last time before departing. He had a feeling of inner peace and power from her blessing, and felt that Beyla's ring was also renewed. There was one more thing he had to do, before he left.

Otto walked into the temple chamber, where a small figure lay under a blanket in the bed by the far wall, an open window near his feet. The curtains were back, and the healthy smell of field and forest wafted through on the breeze. There was the outline of the forest in the distance, and over the temple wall could be seen some fields, planted with faded crops. The sound of some goats bleating could just be heard.

"You haven't forgotten Garazar yet, Midguardian?" the Gnome said from under the cover of his blue dyed blanket.

"Let's just say I won't forget what you did for me for as long as I expect to live." Otto fingered his ring. "Here, this is yours," he started to pull it off.

Garazar's eyes gleamed as he looked on the ring. "Now, now, don't tempt me. We Gnomes hanker after such things. But there is something that is more important to me. Friendship, honor - just don't tell any other Gnomes, or anyone for that matter. Keep the ring - you earned it." Garazar pushed himself up in his bed.

Otto sat down on its edge. "Thank you. I think we shared some experiences that can never be forgotten."

The Gnome nodded. "Aye, and some we would like to forget as well."

Otto chuckled, "Yes - let's agree to never tell anyone of that either. Those slugs tasted nasty."

Garazar nodded, "Yes, I told you that before you ate them." He placed his small hand on Otto's. "Thank you, Otto. We Gnome's stay away from other races, but you have touched my hard little heart - just between you and me."

Otto nodded. "We are the Lord's of Yselda's well, are we not?"

Garazar gave him a smile and a wink, "Indeed, and so shall the annals record our adventures, I may let some secrets out on my deathbed."

A faraway look came into Otto's eyes.

"What is on your mind, Otto?"

"I was just remembering Rikki, one of our companions from Midguard. She loved riddles. She had one I remember. It went something like; "What does everyone have, but wants no one to find?"

Garazar shrugged, "Tell me, we Gnomes like riddles too."

"I can't tell you, it's a secret."

With a chuckle, the Gnome said "I see. She sounds like a good lass, perhaps she has a drop of Gnome blood."

"I hope she is alright."

"Well, if she is as clever as she sounds, she should be fine."

Otto nodded, "You are probably right, I hope that they are all safe."

Garazar smiled in sympathy. "You Midguardians seem hard to kill, clever and bold. That should give you hope."

Otto nodded. He knew they would head off soon. "Thank you again Garazar, I learned much in that well, I emerged a different Otto."

"Yes, and a smaller one - perhaps something else we now have in common," Garazar said with another wink.

Otto looked with concern down on Garazar. "Will you be alright? How is your leg - I'm sure you don't want to be tended by pretty Aelven priestesses forever."

Garazar laughed, and then briefly coughed, "You are learning a bit of cheek - I am glad something rubbed off. But, you need not worry, we Gnomes are tough. The priestesses will swiftly heal my cough, and my bones had mostly mended in the well. Once my strength returns, I will be out of here in a couple of days. I already have my eye on one of those goats." He indicated with a nod of his head towards the field outside where the goats must have been penned.

"A goat?" Otto asked, his face scrunched quizzically.

"Aye, you may not know this, Sir Otto of Midguard, but we Gnomes are master riders of most beasts in Albion - at least ones of a certain size."

Otto nodded and smiled. He squeezed the Gnomes hand. "Well then, I am to prepare for my own departure. Perhaps we will meet again. You should visit the faerie queene's palace, apparently it is a wondrous sight."

Garazar shook his head. "No, I am afraid this really is farewell. We belong underground, and rarely travel on the surface. It is no coincidence that we bonded in the well, perhaps it reminded me of home. But I could no more go to the faerie queene's palace that you could live underground as we do."

Otto certainly had no desire to do that, after escaping the well. With a last smile and squeeze of Garazar's hand, he went off to finish his preparations.

The horses they were to ride were slightly smaller than those of Midguard, with thicker, silkier coats. They would ride without saddles, which Otto knew would be painful. Fortunately the horses were more narrow, making it easier to grip them with their thighs. Otto and Colin mounted up with Khiril and the four Aelven soldiers. They waved farewell to the other Aelves.

Khiril spoke Aelven words to calm the mounts of Otto and Colin. Then he rode to the head of their small party and spoke again. Their mounts set off into the forest in a smooth but fast gallop. Otto was glad that they had this fur to grip onto or he would have flown straight over the horses back. Khiril looked back and told Otto to be more gentle with Sig, his mount. He leaned forward like Khiril and Colin, holding his hands around Sig's neck, as gently as he could.

After awhile, the rhythm became more natural, and he could appreciate the beauty of the forest. They followed a path marked by stones that wound through the forest. The trees were similar to massive oaks, elms and other hardwoods, with leaves colored from silvery greens to golden reds. There was a profusion of wild flowers and other small plants. Small forest creatures and birds were glimpsed as they rode. The wind seemed to whistle a wild tune through the leaves, accompanied by the song of the flitting birds. Their was also a cool fragrant breeze in their faces as they rode, and Otto felt wonderfully alive and refreshed.

Khiril called out to tell them that this was the great forest of Erethnor. He said that they had a weeks ride before them before they reached the vidraelfr capital, Taenn. Otto was glad to feel that they were making some progress, both he and Colin had already learned much. He just hoped that the others had an easier start to their journeys. He looked forward to seeing their familiar faces, hopefully gathered at the faerie queene's palace.

15

It was late morning on the fourth day since Otto, Colin, Khiril and their escort of four vidraelfr soldiers had set out from the Aelven temple. They had ridden through the forest of Erethnor, under the gloom of its thick branches along trails and paths which gradually became wider and more well traveled. Despite the easy flowing gait of their horses, both Colin and Otto had suffered from saddle soreness. Otto had the worst of it: he had been stuck for so long at the bottom of a well. Colin at least had spent some time in the saddle before they found Otto. Khiril collected some soothing herbs for them, which he boiled and crushed into a paste - that had helped a bit.

Khiril's mount had kept a fast flowing pace before them. Colin rode in the middle of their small party, the other two vidraelfr soldiers rode before them, with two more behind.

"We are crossing into the Forest of Nillyn now. Our capital Taean is two days ride from here."

"How can you tell?" Colin called to him. To him, the trees and surroundings had not changed.

"There is something I have not told you yet. Although I am weak in the craft myself, many of our mages are adept in illusion magic. We can all sense it though, a shimmering in the air visible to our eyes. Our realm is full of traps for the unwary, and apparently the goblin threat had even made it necessary this far south."

Colin said, "Fortunate then that we ride with viraelfr."

"Aye, perhaps." He slowed to a stop, holding out his hand for the rest of them to do the same.

"I will use a temporary clearing rune," he said. As he did, the forest seemed to shift and change before their eyes. The trees were taller, thinner with more silvery leaves, coppery birds fluttered overhead singing lilting melodies. The path was wider, and not far off were several Aelves of a similar look to Khiril, with curling hair of varying shades of light, bronze or golden brown and light-brown skin. They wore fine leathers with well crafted mail vests. They lowered their bows and smiled. One with an even finer helm and armor than the rest called out, "Welcome back Prince Khiril!"

Khiril laughed, "Captain Hirin! It is good to see you - and the rest of you."

They slowed as they approached them, and Khiril dismounted to speak with his kinsmen.

"We have heard of your return," Captain Hirin said with a broad smile, "it brought us all great joy. Your parents and Agni were overwrought. It is said that Agni paces the palace and its grounds awaiting your return. Your father was said to consider sending a war party north to punish the Giants, but your words of peace dissuaded him."

"I am glad to hear it!" Khiril embraced his old friend. "I would not wish to return to news of war with the mountain Giants."

"Yes, but we have had more skirmishes with the goblins, that is why we have set illusions to guard the borders and crossings."

Khiril nodded with a concerned frown, and told Colin and Otto to dismount.

"We will rest here for a short time, while I talk to Captain Hirin."

After Khiril had caught up on the latest events in the realm, they were again on their way. Towards evening they stopped in a small vidraelfr village. The village had several well crafted homes made from wood and stone, and several more that were built into the surrounding trees, with a smoothly flowing river along the west side of the town. Otto marveled at the clever craftsmanship and artistry that was displayed in such a small village. The bridge across the river itself curved over elegantly and had a second story within which were several more vidraelfr dwellings. The Aelves there welcomed them warmly, and they were then escorted to see the villages head councillor, Thaelin.

Thaelin invited them to spend the night in his dwelling. The home was couched between two mighty elms and had three levels. Otto and Colin slept at the lower level, while Khiril was given a guest room above.

As Otto sipped from a goblet at dinner he noticed Thaelin frowning and looking his way. He could tell it was Beyla's ring that drew his attention. He then saw Thaelin speak briefly to Khiril, while keeping an eye on the ring. Khiril nodded and they spoke some more words. Thaelin frowned briefly again, before he shrugged and nodded.

Later Otto asked Khiril if there was something about his ring that had bothered Thaelin.

"When we first met Otto," Khiril said, "I realized that you had something special. I spoke to Garazar to confirm it, which he did. Reluctantly at first, but beyond a doubt. That ring is an ancient treasure that once belonged to a princess of our people. Garazar told me how you used it, and that he decided to give it to you. Just as with Colin, it seems to have bonded to you, and that is enough for me. Let us speak no more of it - you are under my protection. I am sure my mother will speak of it again."

Otto nodded, as Khiril headed off to his own bed. He looked again at his ring, and wondered if it might cause him some problems. He knew that Colin also bore a Vidraelven treasure. If they were not with Khiril, they would probably be considered treasure hunters or thieves.

After leaving early in the morning they rode all of the next day. Khiril said they would stay overnight again before they reached the capital. There was a small farming village half a days travel from Taean, they stayed there in a barn. This time Khiril asked to stay with the rest of them, though the villagers protested.

They rose early and rode for several hours, finally approaching Taean around midday. They had just passed through another small village, and were cresting a small rise when they could see it; the cobbled road curved down the low hills and into the large city along the valley floor. As they rode down the road towards Taean, they could make out more of its features.

It was surrounded by a long curving stone wall, along which Aelven soldiers patrolled. The buildings within the city took advantage of many large trees, elms and oaks that grew there, many built around the lower levels of those trees. Otto saw many wide avenues overhung with the spreading branches of the trees or stone and wooden arches or wide buildings. Taean seemed to grow both up and out in a profusion of curving structures and winding streets. Aelves went about their daily business while armed soldiers patrolled the city. Farmers carts trundled through to the city and a wide river flowed past the city's western side. Elegant boats sailed or rowed slowly down the river and some of these loaded or offloaded goods at small stone piers along the riverbanks. Several gates led from these piers into the city. Otto smiled as they approached this magnificent city. He imagined they would receive a warm welcome, accompanying the returning prince.

16

To enter Taean they needed to first cross a wide bridge that curved over a wide stream. After this they stood before the city's wide gates. Vidraelfr called out in joyous welcome to Khiril as they entered. He had to stop and talk to several Aelves before they entered the city proper, where they walked their horses along one of the main avenues.

Otto's eyes widened as two small light-brown creatures flew down from the trees above and fluttered before them.

"Khiril," one said, "it is good to see you again!"

"We had heard from Agni," said the other, "that you were expected any time, we had hoped to see you."

"Nym and Rilan," Khiril said with a wide smile, "it's so good to see you both!"

Otto thought hey were like small flying Aelves - except their faces were more pointed, their eyes narrower and further apart and their noses smaller and flatter. Also they had a fine coppery fur over their bodies, and thin diaphanous wings that were keeping them aloft.

"Colin and Otto, meet Nym and Rilan, Spriggans, friends of our people."

The Spriggans hovered before them. They smiled and nodded to everyone, then took Khiril's hand in turn. It reminded Otto of a new-born babe taking the hand of and adult, their hands were so small. After this they told him that they had just left the vidraelfr council, where they had heard of his return some days ago, and something of his time with the mountain Giants. Khiril told Nym and Rilan of his recent detour into the Aelven temple.

Nym laughed, "You are so hot-headed Khiril - you should be a Spriggan."

"I will take that as a compliment."

"So you should. We are returning now to let our people know of what we have learned recently of the goblin and Daemon activity in vidraelfheim."

"So you are leaving now?"

They nodded. "We wish to report what we have learned," Rilan said, "including the tale we heard of your own escape from the mountain Giants; that a daemonic spirit was trying to stir up trouble there. And now you tell us a Daemon took over one of your temples - until you overcame it. It sounds like your heroic exploits continue, Khiril."

Khiril shook his head. "I am afraid that Sir Colin of Midguard was the real hero this time."

Nym's eyes widened. "I see. That must be why you possess Thandriel, Colin."

Colin glanced down at his sword and nodded. Otto saw that Colin was somewhat at a loss for words while looking up at the hovering creatures.

Rilan flew closer. Otto couldn't help but pull his head back a bit as the Spriggan flew in. It had a slim rapier hanging by its side, and the other one had a slim bow over its shoulder. He wondered what damage they could do with such weapons, but thought it best not to ask.

"I have heard of midguardians," Nym said, "but never seen one. They look not too dissimilar to Aelves. I see both carry powerful enchantments. They must indeed be dear to you."

"Well, I hope you both continue to aid our realms. It seems we may soon need such aid," Rilan said.

"Do not scare the creatures over much brother," Nym said.

"They look capable Nym, and they stand at Khiril's side."

"True." Nym smiled and turned back to Khiril. "As we left the throne-room, your sister came with us. She said she had had enough of discussions and deliberations. She said she can't think of anything else except for your safe return, and that she was going to pace the halls for a while. Surely he must be close, she said. Her intuition stays as powerful as ever."

Colin smiled. "I've missed her."

Rilan said "What of you Khiril? Will you be staying here now that you have finally returned?"

Khiril shook his head. "I had thought to escort Otto and Colin to see Queene Xanthia."

The Spriggans raised their eyes. "Truly?" Nym said, with a grin, "your mother may not like this plan."

Khiril nodded. "It's likely, but Colin and Otto are friends and allies now. We have a shared goal."

"What is that?" Rilan asked.

"To get the the bottom of what is causing unrest across our realms."

"Well, good luck to you all," Rilan said. "Aye," said Nym.

"And you," Khiril said, "My best wishes to the royal family, of course."

The Spriggans nodded. "Farewell," Nym called, as they flew away and were soon lost in the overhanging branches.

After going through some narrow streets and then past several well armed Aelves they stood before the high inner wall. Passing through the large gate they came to the palace at the heart of Taean. It was a wide building of stone and wood, four stories high, with elegant columns and wide curving balconies and arches. Several large trees grew within it, dominating the wide paved courtyards.

Noble looking Aelves were coming in and out of the wide entrance, which was flanked by guards in shining armor and golden cloaks. A young female Aelf came running out as they approached. She was slim, with the usual bronzed skin of the vidraelfr, her sea-green eyes sparkling in her pretty face as she ran towards them. Her curling golden hair cascaded over her shoulders, bouncing as she ran.

"Khiril!" she called out, before she grabbed him in a tight embrace. "You are safe. I knew it!"

"Agni, I am so glad to see you." Khiril looked at her after they embraced. "Thoughts of all of you kept me sane when I was trapped for so long with that grumpy dwarf."

Agni laughed through her tears. "You mean Gundi, don't you?"

"Who else?"

"Yes, I heard he is safe also."

"Aye, you know dwarves. Thanks largely to Colin here. Colin and Otto, let me introduce you to my sister, Agni."

She looked at them and smiled. Then she suddenly frowned at her brother. "You will tell me of all your adventures - promise?"

Khiril smiled and nodded, making a rune sign of binding across his chest. "So it is sworn, Agni."

She laughed. "Very well. So, you have brought us midguardians. They are pale creatures, like the Svartalefr. I see two, though I heard just one accompanied you. Are midguardians becoming so common in Vidraelfheim?"

Khiril laughed. "So it would seem. I picked Otto up as I returned from the halls of the mountain Giants with Colin. There is a story to that. They are both knights of Midguard, Sir Colin and Sir Otto."

Agni looked at Colin, and at the sword that hung at his side. "So, it is true, my overly generous brother has gifted you his sword Thandriel." She shook her head at her brother. "I suppose you must have your reasons." She turned back to face Colin, giving him a warm smile. "You are my brothers trusted friend, and you saved him. We must embrace, and become close friends."

She stepped towards Colin, who Otto thought looked somewhat uncomfortable, and clasped her arms around him. Colin took her in an awkward embrace.

"Very well, we are now friends Sir Colin, it is done. My brothers taste shall guide mine, Midguardian hero." She winked at Colin, who smiled hesitantly.

She stood before Otto, who half-smiled, not sure what to do. She looked him up and down, and nodded. "I like you as well, Midguardian. You seem unique. You are so round, almost like an orc, and yet your face is soft, like a girls. You look funny, but in a good way, of course."

Colin laughed, and Otto blushed. He didn't know how to respond to that.

"Don't mind my sister, Otto. She means well."

"You will be my dear Midguardian friend too Otto, won't you?" Her face looked troubled.

Otto nodded, thinking that if she spoke like that to her friends, she must be horrible to her enemies. "Yes, I hope so."

She laughed, embracing him tightly then grabbing his arm, looking piercingly into his eyes. "Don't worry, it is done. We are now life-long friends and allies. I will walk you to the palace - take my hand." As she did, she noticed the ring on his hand. She lifted it up to look closer, her mouth going wide. "This..." she looked to Khiril.

"Yes," he nodded, "It is. Otto was gifted it by a Gnome - it aided him in battling a Daemon."

Her eyes now widened along with her mouth. "A Daemon? A Gnome? You defeated it, Sir Otto?" She smiled, and it lit up her face again like the dawn. Otto blushed, wondering when he would be able to keep his head around Aelven maidens, whether possessed or not. He swallowed and made his best effort to show some steadfastness.

"Yes - I met a Gnome. His name was Garazar. He helped me to understand the power of this ring. But I only held off the Daemon until Khiril and Colin arrived."

Agni laughed, and swung around to take Colin's arm as well. "I have already heard of Colin's brave exploits, from those that met with Khiril on the road. I will walk with you two brave knights of Midguard. You will tell me all about it, Sir Otto and Sir Colin. Come." She tugged them both towards the palace, and Khiril laughed.

"You have heard the commandment of my sister, it is best to obey."

Agni nodded. "Indeed. Mother will be so pleased to see you all. She has been terribly worried. Khiril is always dashing about getting himself into trouble. And it seems you midguardians are no better." She looked at them both, with a smile and a wink.

She spoke to Khiril as she walked. "You have arrived just in time Khiril - father is readying for his departure. I was so worried that you would miss him - that was why I was pacing out here in the halls."

"Father is leaving? Why is that?"

"Those pesky goblins, of course. They are the blight of our lands, as ever, but lately it is worse. There has even been whispered talk of seeking aid from Queene Xanthia, once the new emissary arrives."

"Really?" Colin looked troubled at these words.

They walked further into the palace, many more Aelves greeted Khiril warmly as they went past. Otto could tell by the looks on their faces how well loved Khiril was here.

They went up a long winding staircase into a passageway. "Father!" Khiril called out suddenly, as they entered the passageway. A short distance ahead an important looking Aelf was coming towards them, flanked by several soldiers.

Father and son moved quickly together and embraced. Otto saw that King Eirik was a tall powerful Aelf, with short curling golden hair tinged with silver that sat above his broad lined brow. His eyes were silvery gray and held great authority. He wore shining mail that flowed almost like silk it was so well formed, on his brow was a slim and finely-made golden crown. A cloak of silver samite fell from his shoulders. "We feared for the worst Khiril," King Eirik said, as he stood back, his hands holding Khiril's arms as he looked at his son. "The news of your escape from the Giants was a true blessing." Eirik shook his head.

"I heard that you were not in a forgiving mood, at first father." He glanced at Agni, who raised a brow.

Eirik gave a rueful nod. "Yes. But my thirst for revenge was blunted by your mother's wisdom. We shall see if these Giants are to be trusted. But you must hurry to the throne-room, your mother is there in council, desperately awaiting your return. I will leave the reunion to you and Agni. I have urgent business matters calling me - small forces of goblins have been causing problems in the north, we fear they may be preparing for something. I need to travel north and learn more of this."

Khiril frowned. "I see. Is it something that I should assist you with?"

Eirik shook his head. "No. Spend some time here with your mother and sister, this old King is still capable of looking after himself for now."

"I must tell you that unfortunately I had not planned a long reunion." He looked briefly at Agni as he said this. "I had been planning on escorting Colin and Otto east to see Queene Xanthia, with whom they have business. I also wished to learn if Daemon infestations had occurred in her realm, and what she might make of it. But if our own realm is in danger, then-"

"No," Eirik shook his head. "That's an excellent idea. What with Daemons and goblins, even stirrings among the Giants, something is afoot. We may need to strengthen our alliance. A prince of the blood will be an excellent emissary, though your mother and Agni would probably like you to stay at least a few days." He winked at Agni.

"At least!" Agni said, "I can't believe that you are really thinking of leaving so soon!" She shook her head, sending a sharp look Khiril's way.

Eirik laughed. "Our duty to the realm must come first, my daughter. Go with my blessing Khiril, and give my eminent greetings to Xanthia."

"Thank you father, It was truly fortunate I saw you now."

Eirik and Khiril embraced again. "Our emissary at Xanthia's court, Ras Ithar, has been there for several months now. He should be a good support for you there."

Khiril nodded, and they said their final farewells.

They came to two massive oak doors swung wide, beyond was a long high chamber with high white walls and a vaulted timber ceiling lit. Distinguished Aelves in shimmering silk sat in tall carved rosewood chairs around the sides of the chamber, at the end of which was a pair of silver thrones. On one of these sat a beautiful vidraelfr woman, deep in discussion with another Aelf who stood before her. Others sat on benches in the center of the chamber, while orderlies and servants moved about. Discussions were going on, but all fell silent as they entered.

The Queene stood, her face a mixture of shock and joy. "Khiril!"

All faces were now turned to the newcomers. Khiril smiled broadly, walking quickly to his mother who ran across the chamber to meet him. They embraced for a long time before she announced to all, "My son, prince Khiril has returned!"

Many councillors and other Aelves came forward to greet Khiril, but before long Queene Ylin let all know that she would see her son and his guests in a private audience chamber, and any more reunions would have to wait. Then they took their leave, Khiril with Agni on one side and Queene Ylin on the other. One of her attendants also came, an elderly Aelf named Sylvi.

After they had entered a nearby audience chamber, Queene Ylin looked at Colin and Otto. Up close Otto saw that she had a face that spoke of wisdom as well as beauty, her sparkling sapphire eyes were full of vitality and warmth. She had the same tall thin build as Agni, the same flowing golden hair. A slim crown sat on her head, a golden circlet with a rainbow of sparkling gems set all around it. "Khiril, you bring another midguardians with you." She looked at them both. "You will know by now that I am Queene Ylin of Vidraelfheim. What are your names, midguardians?"

Otto felt somewhat embarrassed, surrounded by all this nobility. Everyone seemed to be looking at him.

"I.. I am Otto .. Of Midguard - Oh, you already said that didn't you?"

She smiled sympathetically. "There is no need to be nervous, Otto. You are a friend of my son's, so you must become my friend too."

Agni laughed. "I told him the very same thing, mother!"

"My Queen - on his hand!"

"It's okay, I saw it Sylvi," Queen Ylis said. Sylvi was frowning, but nodded. Otto realized that they were referring to his ring, Beyla's tear. He had forgotten about it, surrounded by such wonder and splendor. Now the attention made him acutely aware of it again. He nervously clenched his hands.

"Come forward Otto. May I examine that ring?"

He walked forward, slowly lifting his hand to the queene. She took it gently, looking at the ring, her eyes shining.

"Yes, there is no doubt. This is Beyla's tear, the ring last worn by princess Tyllendriel before she fell in the Great Wars. She fell in a battle on the bridge across the river Sylgr and was swept down a great cataract, never to be found. So the ring was believed lost. It is a great treasure of our people. Where did you get it?"

Otto blushed, as all eyes and ears fell on him. He looked into her eyes, saw the purity and clarity there, and knew he could do nothing except tell the truth.

"I met a Gnome, your highness. We were both thrown into a deep well, and he gave me this ring, to aid our escape. He was too small and injured to escape himself."

Her face clouded for a moment, her eyes lost their warmth, becoming icy and full of anger. But then, like a cloud passing the sun, it melted away, and she sighed, looking serene again.

"I should have guessed a Gnome had taken it. They are ever thirsty for treasure, and think little of the whys and wherefores."

Otto felt that he should say something to support Garazar. The Gnome had saved him when he fell. "He was kindly your majesty, though prickly at first. He told me that the ring was found by his ancestor, deep in a mountain stream. And he freely gave it to me. He had a good heart."

She shook her head. "He gave what was not his to give. But it may be time for us to loosen our grip on the treasures of the past. Khiril has already set us a great example." She smiled at her son. "I heard of your noble gift of Thandriel to Colin."

She turned back to Otto, and continued. "And if a Gnome can be so noble, even with that which he does not possess, I can do no less. Fear not - you may keep this treasure, Otto. I will not dispute your claim. I sense that you have pure intentions, and you and Colin have proven your bravery. Take these gifts of our people to the court of Xanthia, may they help unite all our causes, Aelf and Midguardian. Lately our foes have growing unity and strength. We can do no less, or Aelfheim itself may be in danger." She looked gravely at Khiril as she said the last, and took his hand. Otto saw the troubled look on Khiril's face as he looked back at his mother.

"I should welcome my son and his honored guests," Ylin said, a smile again lighting up her face, "not weigh them down with dire premonitions."

Colin stood forward. "Similar dangers grow in our own realm Queene Ylin, that was why we were sent. Our arch-mage, Aldwyn Lufgren, said that there would be a link. Do you know why Aldwyn asked us to seek the faerie queene?"

Queene Ylin looked thoughtful. "I can't see into the mind of a Midguardian wizard. But he is right, there is a growing darkness across our realms. As all realms are linked, such darkness would affect Midguard too. As to why he asked you to seek Xanthia..." She smiled. "I myself am a faerie queene, though not the faerie queene you seek." Colin bowed his head, blushing at her words.

"As much as I don't like to admit it," Queene Ylin continued, "Xanthia is wiser and more powerful than any other Aelf in Midguard. The Ljosaelfr are a distant and cerebral race, and they have long forged the most powerful high magic. They are also known as high Aelves for that reason. We had an emissary here until recently from Xanthia's realm. He left us only recently - he had become unwell, and a new emissary is expected soon. It is true, that if there is an answer to be found as to what threatens us, Xanthia would be the one most likely to know of, or to find, an answer."

Khirril took his mother's hand. "I don't think I have ever heard you speak so highly of the Ljosaelfr mother."

She smiled. "If they were here I would be even less likely, they think highly enough of themselves already. As much as it pains me, we may soon have to work more closely together, Ljosaelfr and vidraelfr, the danger appears to be all too real. ."

"What of the svartaelfr?" Otto asked. He had heard them mentioned by Khiril, though with little love.

She sighed sadly, and shook her head. "Even the darkest times would make such an alliance hard. There is much bad blood between our races. They keep to themselves. It is said their King still grieves the fall of his wife, and the cruel fate of his daughter, a wight that must live off the blood of fallen foes. They have become a truly dark and bloodthirsty race. And while we have maintained our fleets, they have let theirs fall into disuse and disrepair."

Otto nodded. Soon the talk returned to Khiril and all that had befallen him, and then more general news. It was agreed, much to Agni's disgust and Ylin's sadness, that they would only stay for one more day, then leave the next, sailing down the river towards the port town of Gliehl. Finally Queene Ylin called some attendants to guide Otto and Colin to their bathing chambers. She also convinced Khiril to bathe and rest before dinner that evening. Khiril gave a wry grin and nodded. "I will submit, mother. We have been long a-horse, and it will be welcome."

That evening they had a sumptuous dinner that Otto considered a feast like none he had laid eyes or mouth on. It was held in a large dining hall, and many vidraelfr dignitaries were in attendance. Otto and Colin soon realized it was an informal welcome home feast for Khiril. The wine danced on Otto's tongue and lifted his spirits, washing pain and cares away. After his second cup even his saddle-sores no longer troubled him. Late in the meal Quene Ylin left her seat to have a quiet word with him. She asked him if he would allow her to visit him at his chamber after their dinner, to discuss a pressing matter. Of course Otto nodded, blushing due to the wine and his general confusion.

Why would a faerie queene want to talk to me alone?

After she returned to her seat, he let out a sigh. He felt over-awed and completely humbled. As he looked around at the smiling faces of the Aelves and Colin, he couldn't help but recall his days at his uncles farm, and wonder what they would say if they could see him now. A knight of Midguard, with an appointment to see a faerie queene.

As he walked back to the chamber he had near Colin's, he recalled the queene had stolen some more glances towards his ring, and he supposed it was that she wanted to discuss. Perhaps she would ask him to return it, despite her generous words earlier. Again he blushed, feeling the whole situation was quite over his head.

When Queene Ylin arrived she was with an elderly vidraelfr woman, who carried a leather bound book.

"Otto, this is Glyseth, a High Priestess. I spoke to her of your ring, and she asked if she might come and see it, and perhaps reveal to you some of the hidden secrets of its use."

Otto nodded. "Thank you, Glyseth, and Queene Ylin."

"Call me Ylin, Otto." Ylin smiled at Otto, and gently took his hand. He smiled back at her, feeling the warmth and kindness that radiated out from her like a blessing.

"Firstly, I must tell you that there is much about this ring you do not know..."

Khiril had also asked to spend some time after dinner with Colin. He led him down stairs that wound under their palace, into a long line of small doors, with runes inscribed into each, as well as a profile engraved above.

These are the crypts of our people's heroes. Before I left my uncle fell in battle, in a pass before the goblin kingdoms. He is buried here, with all his gear. He wielded a sacred sword of power, Jhi-el. It was buried in the chamber with him. I was the only living relative who could wield it. As you now have Thandriel, I can take it as my own, if I so choose."

Colin nodded.

"I now do so choose. After all, I can't take you to Queene Xanthia's court with an enchanted sword, while my own scabbard is bare."

"I see," Colin said. "I am honored. But if I can ask, why did you ask me to come."

"It's simple. Swords are like people. They crave a great adversary to test their strength. So once I take Jhi-el, I ask that you draw Thandriel, and we battle."

Colin looked into his pale eyes, and saw that he was in deadly earnest.

To be continued in:

The Faerie Tales: Book Two

Dear Reader,

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Yours faithfully,

Lee Tozer.

Excerpt from 'The Lay of Lif'

1

Rikki fended off the attack of her two younger brothers. They had wooden swords and shields that Rikki had made for them.

"Let's attack from two sides," Tibalt said to Udo.

Tibalt was the youngest, seven years old with thin blonde hair, Udo was nine, stockier with darker, curlier hair.

Rikki stood in a warrior's pose, her eyes scanning her adversaries. She was tall for her twelve years, with long wavy hair of a light golden brown, freckles across her pointed nose and clear light blue eyes under a round forehead.

"Bring it on! I shall send your souls to Hel!" She swung her sword, sending them both scuttling back laughing.

That was when their mother Lindl opened the door, arms full of fruit and vegetables from the market. Tibalt fell into her legs, and she shrieked and tripped over him, sending the produce rolling over the floor as she fell. She got up on her hands and knees to see Rikki and Udo standing there with their swords and shields.

"Rikki, clean this up! What have I told you. You too Tibalt and Udo."

They nodded, apologising. Rikki came to help her up, but was waved away.

"We have spoken about this, Rikki. Your poor father. We spend all our money to send you to the finest school in town, and all you want to do is play fight with your brothers." Lindl shook her head in despair. "And your teachers say that you could be a brilliant student."

"You're taking me out next year, so what's the use?" Rikki asked angrily. She knew her mother was upset, but she could never hold her tongue, or her own quick temper.

"Because you must go to finishing school, that is what young ladies do. How else will you fit into proper society?"

Rikki carried her armful of potatoes over to the cupboard. "What is this society you always go on about? A bunch of snotty kids that think they are better than everyone."

Lindl sighed. "You need to grow up, Rikki. Playtime is over. You are growing into a young woman, and you have to realize the way the world works. High society opens doors that are closed to most people. You need to put away your wooden swords and bows, and start wearing dresses and acting more demurely. Women become ladies now, not knights - the days of the Valkyries and women warriors are over. And it is a good thing. Women were not made to wield weapons, and die in battle."

"What were we made for then, Mother? To sew and gossip and cook? To sit around waiting on lazy husbands?"

"Yes, perhaps." Lindly frowned, putting some of the fruit that Rikki handed her on the table. "To do some of those things, that is a woman's role. One day you will understand."

There was a knock at the door.

"Your father wouldn't be home yet, would he? Who could it be?" Lindl said in an lowered voice as she made her way to the door, "Probably Mrs Gruber come to borrow something again."

But when she opened it a tall figure stood shadowed in the doorway, wearing a large cloak and a wide brimmed hat. They could make out a long pale beard, and his dark eyes scanning them. They heard a pony neighing softly behind him.

"Hello?" Lindl said.

"Hello, may I come in? I have come a long way to see you," the strangers voice was deep and resonant, if somewhat strained with age and weariness.

Lindl looked uncertain, "Who are you?"

"I will explain all to you in an instant, but this doorway is an unwelcome place to stand."

Holle could see her mother weighing up her decision, and in the end the man's politeness and obvious age won the day.

"Very well, come in then and tell us your business stranger," Lindl said with a frown.

As he stepped in to the warm lamplight, he looked far more gentle and kind. They saw the smile creases around his gentle gray eyes, the dusty road-weathered clothes he wore.

"Thank you young Lady. I am Aldwyn Lufgren, Arch-mage of Canelorn Castle." His words fell like portentous stones into the warmth of the cottage.

Lindl was stupefied. The boys sat on the floor to gaze at the wizard open eyed. Rikki felt a delightful thrill - a real life wizard! At last some adventure in her life. After the depressing talk of a woman's duty, it was as if her wishes for something else, something more, had materialized before her eyes.

"May I sit?"

Lindl was overcome with wonder and confusion, she nodded as if in a daze, gesturing to the family table near their hearth.

Aldwyn took off his weathered traveller's hat and sighed. "Thank you. It has been a long ride - when I knew I was this close I rose early and pushed poor Whitefeather to make it here by evening."

"Let me take your hat," Lindl said, before hanging it on a hook and joining him at the table. Tibalt and Udo slowly scuttled across the floor to get close enough to hear and see everything. They were staring up at the wizard, open eyed.

"Is Whitefeather your horse?" Udo asked. Lindl gave him a cross look to try and silence him.

Aldwyn smiled. "He is my pony, as strong and brave as the finest warhorse in the land - or at least he considers himself so. I named him for his soft white coat, and his fleetness of foot." He winked at the two boys, whose eyes widened even more, as they wiggled closer in. Lindl tried to ignore them, instead sitting and looking with a slight frown at Aldwyn. She had recovered from her initial shock, and wished to reassert her role as mistress of the cottage.

Rikki sat on a stool between the table and the hearth, trying to remain unobtrusive. She could see in her mothers tight face some uncertainty remained, and she remembered her words about the aristocracy. A Templar arch-mage would hold a very high position in society, Rikki realized that much. But it was not necessarily the kind of society that her mother would prefer. That must explain the conflicted expressions she could see flitting across her mothers face moment by moment, even as she tried to suppress them under a mask of politeness.

"Well," Aldwyn said with a wide smile at Lindl, "Thank you for your hospitality. I am sure you are wondering what an arch-mage is doing traversing the country-side on a pony, wandering about like a hedge-wizard." Aldwyn gave a mock-frown and shook his head. "But, to be honest, I haven't felt so alive in ages - all mages's should do it every now and again."

He paused and looked again at the boys and Rikki. The boys squirmed under his glance, looking both excited and nervous, like turtles trying to squirm back into a shell they had lost somewhere. Rikki looked at him wide-eyed. His glance rested on her. "Adventure, freedom, is there anything better?" Rikki shook her head. She felt his question was directed at her. Her soul yearned for those things!

Lindl followed his gaze to Rikki, and she saw something pass between them, an unspoken connection. She saw Rikki's eyes shining back at the wizard. That snapped her out of her trance.

"My husband Stefan is returning soon, is your business with him?" Aldwyn returned his kindly glance to Lindl, she again felt helpless and pinned down - like a preserved butterfly in an alchemyst's glass case.

"No," he said. "My business is with your daughter."

Rikki heard the gasps of Tibalt and Udo. She saw her mother snap her gaze to her. But she saw and heard it all as if through a cloth, for another emotion was filling her - hope.

Lindl frowned and spoke in a sharper tone. His words seemed to have broken through her fears. "My daughter, Rikki? What do you mean? How do you even know her?" She looked at Rikki in confusion. Rikki just continued to stare at Aldwyn in wonder and delight. She would happily leave right that moment with the wizard if he asked her. But Rikki knew that was not the future her parents had carefully planned for her.

"Do you believe in magic, Lindl?"

These words again left Lindl reeling, looking for a way to respond. Rikki looked at her mother, and felt some pity for her, she could see how difficult it all was. She knew her mother just wanted the best for them all, in her own way. Perhaps she could not understand what was in Rikki's inner heart, but she had tried, in her own way. But what could she say to the wizard's question? Magic was part of their religion, a gift of the gods. And she was being asked it by a Templar arch-mage. After a moment, Lindl nodded, tears now threatening to fill her eyes - she looked like she was unwillingly being led down a path, blindfolded, and she didn't look like she would like the destination. "Yes, of course I do." She looked at Aldwyn helplessly.

He nodded with a smile, and stood up, walking over to pick up Rikki's wooden sword, lying near the wall. "Magic, adventure, hope for a better future. These are things we wizards concern ourselves with. Sticking our heads in dusty tomes, while supporting others who make their presence felt in the world in much greater, more renowned ways. We support them from the shadows, and try not to choke on the dust of those musty tomes and scrolls. Once in a long while, we may cast a spell - after gathering the ingredients and runes of power from a lifetime of study. I managed to cast one such spell, with the aid of this ancient staff."

Rikki looked at Aldwyn. He stood there, holding her wooden sword in one hand and his long staff in the other. The staff was engraved with runes and bore a blue-green sapphire on its tip. The gem picked up the fire-light, giving it an eerie green glow. As he stood there, Rikki sensed for a moment an immense power held within him. Again she felt a deep thrill within her soul. She glanced back at her mother who sat at the table looking up at the wizard. Lindl looked weaker and more helpless than Rikki had ever seen her, like a small child before a parent that she didn't understand, but who she knew held some strange power over her.

Aldwyn winked at Rikki, handing her the sword. "That spell granted me a wondrous vision." He pointed his staff up to the roof, "of the stars." At his words, Rikki felt that she could almost see them there, glimmering in their numberless majesty over their cottage. "And," Aldwyn continued, jabbing his staff up twelve times as he spoke, "twelve of those stars began to glow brighter, casting a heavenly light down into the far corners of our realm, lighting twelve places, and twelve faces, burning them into my mind."

He looked at them all. They were spellbound now, waiting to hear the rest of his fateful tale. Slowly bringing the wand down, Aldwyn traced the course of one star's light, until the bright green tip pointed at Rikki. "And I now must search out those twelve, who need to return with me to Canelorn Castle, to train to be knights of the Order." He stood there, his eyes shining, his staff still pointing directly at Rikki. She felt frozen, as if a light enveloped her, revealing a secret - that she had a special fate in store, that her destiny was tied to this tale.

Aldwyn lowered his staff and smiled at them all. Lindl sat at the table, tears brimming in her eyes. Rikki saw something there she had not seen before - resignation. It was as if her mother had acknowledged to herself that she could not fight such grand magic. "I am sorry Lindl. It is not every mother's dream to have her daughter become a knight - even a knight of destiny. I am sure that you thought the times of female knights was over, consigned to legend."

A soft kindness infused his face, and he sat down beside her, placing his lined hand over hers. Despite herself, it seemed that Lindl appreciated his kindness, the truth of his words, that seemed almost plucked from her own heart. She had said something similar only moments before he arrived. She shrugged, sniffed and wiped at her tears. "Who am I, to doubt the wisdom of an Arch-mage?" She tried to give a weak smile, to show that she had come to accept his words, as painful as it was.

"You are a mother - and there is nothing more sacred than that. I can understand if you would have preferred to see Rikki wearing fine dresses than a knight's armor." Lindl nodded, with a half choked-back sad little laugh.

Now Tibalt looked upset. He went over to Rikki and whispered, "You won't leave us, and become a lady knight?"

Rikki gently ran her fingers over his soft hair. "If I do, will you and Udo promise to become strong knights as well, to protect Mother and Father?"

He nodded, tears in his eyes.

"Well, we had better wait for Father, I will make some tea," Lindl said, wiping her eyes. "Aldwyn, I hope you can tell your tale again to Stefan - he is a merchant, and only knows the magic of coins, and making them multiply." She gave a weak smile, and Aldwyn squeezed her hand.

"I am in no hurry - I have plenty of tales for all - even ones to amuse little boys while we wait." He winked and Tibalt and Udo scuttled in closer still and sat before him expectantly. "But first, my pony has also had a long day - could you spare him an apple? Perhaps the boys would like to feed him. I also have some oats in my travel-bags." The boys both let out a gasp of delight, and looked expectantly at their mother.

"Of course," she said with a small smile. Rikki was glad to see some of the tension and sadness had left her mothers face, though she still seemed barely able to look at her. "Tibalt and Udo, grab one apple each and accompany Aldywn, while I make some tea." Tibalt and Udo jumped up in delight and raced each other to the table to get an apple.

Rikki smiled, but also felt sad. It seemed her mother had already accepted that Rikki might be leaving them all behind, to join Aldwyn on the long journey back to Canelorn Castle. Watching her brothers happily run outside with their apples, her mother scooping out some tea, Rikki realized that everything had its price, even adventures.

