 
### The Sampler Platter: A Little Bit of Everything

### Susan Skylark

### Smashwords Edition

### Copyright 2015 Susan Skylark

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author
This disparate gathering of books and stories has as little in common as the varied contents of a 'sampler platter' of appetizers at a restaurant and serves the same purpose: if you don't know what exactly you are hungry for, at least in a literary sense, why not try a little of everything? Within you will find a book of fairy tales and verse (Over the Hills and Far Away), two short and humorous tales (The Foibles), two volumes of longer tales (The Greylands), and several works from the 'Chronicles of the Brethren' series including the starter volume (The Serpent and the Unicorn: Book I and II), a collection of short stories (Legends), and the first of a trilogy within the series (Shadow of the Unicorn). Enjoy!

Table of Contents:

Chronicles of the Brethren:

The Serpent and the Unicorn: Book I and II

Shadow of the Unicorn (Book I of 'In Shadow')

Legends of the Brethren: Volume I

The Greylands: Volume I

The Greylands: Volume VI

Over the Hills and Far Away

On Princesses: A Foible

On Heroes: A Foible

Other Books, website, etc.

Excerpts

### The Serpent and the Unicorn

### Books I and II

Published by Susan Skylark at Smashwords

Copyright 2012 Susan Skylark

Revised 2014

Table of Contents:

Prologue

Map

Book I:

Book I: Chapter 1

Book I: Chapter 2

Book I: Chapter 3

Book I: Chapter 4

Book I: Chapter 5

Book I: Chapter 6

Book I: Chapter 7

Book I: Chapter 8

Book I: Chapter 9

Book I: Chapter 10

Book I: Chapter 11

Book I: Chapter 12

Book I: Chapter 13

Book I: Chapter 14

Book I: Chapter 15

Book I: Chapter 16

Book I: Chapter 17

BookII:

Book II: Chapter 1

Book II: Chapter 2

Book II: Chapter 3

Book II: Chapter 4

Book II: Chapter 5

Book II: Chapter 6

Book II: Chapter 7

Book II: Chapter 8

Book II: Chapter 9

Book II: Chapter 10

Book II: Chapter 11

Book II: Chapter 12

Book II: Chapter 13

Book II: Chapter 14

Book II: Chapter 15

### Prologue

Long ago, when the world was young and men still walked in innocence, an ancient king made an alliance with the terrible god of war. In exchange for the life of his maiden daughter, he would receive power to conquer all the kingdoms of men and have dominion over all mortal lives. The night was dark with neither star nor moon giving light or hope to those who gathered upon the face of that forbidden hill to commence with their evil deed. The king had gathered all of his generals and advisors to stand as witnesses. The girl was brought forward and the hood removed from her head. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she stared with pleading eyes into the cold and remorseless depths of her father's eyes. She saw neither love nor regret there, only a thirst for power beyond the reach of mortal ken. He drew forth a cruel knife from a sheath of black leather. Very soon the alliance would be sealed and no power on earth could withstand him. He approached the girl with a cruel and mirthless smile and raised the blade to strike.

He was thrown back from the girl and blinded by a cold light, and all standing around the pair fell to the ground in fear. Like a bolt of lightning, a bright and terrible figure stood between the man and his prey. The king regained his footing with a sneer and a triumphant laugh. "You have no authority here," he scoffed, "be gone before I become violent."

The light receded slightly and those standing about could make out a vaguely equine shape amidst the glow. The figure reared up on its hind legs and pawed the air. He appeared in the form of a horse but with the awe reserved for a charging bull or roaring lion. Then he spoke, "you must not do this terrible thing. You will forever tear apart the laws that bind the world together."

"I will do as I please," scowled the king, "and there is nothing you can do to stop me."

"If you are set upon this course I cannot stop you by force, but perhaps I can offer you an exchange," said the figure.

"What can you possibly offer me," growled the king with the light of avarice in his eyes.

"The foul demon with whom you are dealing demands innocent blood for your vile contract, so be it! Take mine instead of the girl's," said the mysterious figure.

"Yours!" gasped the king, "but of what advantage is that to you?"

"To ransom the life of this dear child shall be gain enough," said the figure.

"Very well," said the king. "I have a feeling my master will be quite pleased with the exchange. What is one small child when the blood of his enemy is laid at his feet? What are your terms?"

"Give me one hour to bear this child to safety, then I will return hither and you may do as we have agreed," said the figure.

"How do I know you will not steal the child and disappear?" asked the king.

"You know very well I do not lie," roared the figure. He swept the child onto his back and as the light disappeared over the rim of the hill called back, "in one hour I shall return."

For a time the girl clung silently to the back of her rescuer but as the horror of what she had so nearly escaped sunk in she began to sob uncontrollably. "Do not weep little one," said the figure, "you are safe and all will be well."

"How can you say that?" sobbed the girl, "evil is about to be unleashed upon the earth and no one will be able to stop it."

"I can," said he softly. A sense of immense peace fell upon the girl and dried her tears. Shortly, they approached a small cottage by the edge of a little stream that chattered invisibly in the night. A woman emerged from the door and wrapped a blanket around the quivering form of the girl. She bowed once to the retreating figure and took the child into the house. The girl fell into bed and knew no more that night. The woman stared into the darkness, tears streaming down her cheeks. Within the hour agreed upon, the figure returned to that forsaken hilltop. His light was dimmed to the slight flickering of a dying candle. He stood before the men with a drooping head but a righteous fire blazed in his eyes. The king laughed him to scorn, drew his blade, and approached the apparently cowed creature. Steel flickered in the light as the blade struck home. The light dimmed and went out. As if from a vast distance, a great wailing cry rent the night, as if the earth itself had been mortally wounded by the blow. A wind came howling out of the west and clouds blotted out the sky. Darkness engulfed the world, lightning flashed in the heavens, and thunder rolled as if all creation reared up in fury at the atrocity that had occurred. The hill itself began to roll like a wave on the sea and split in two. The men were thrown from their feet and retreated in confusion and fear from the horror before them. Their horses reared and snorted, broke loose, and disappeared into the storm.

"What have you done!" roared one general over the wind. "

I have loosed the wrath of the heavens," screamed the king. A panic spread among them and all fled into the darkness.

The next morning, the girl rode up the accursed hill hoping to find some trace of her rescuer. She found the vile blade broken in two, but no sign of the mysterious glowing figure. She dismounted and peered with dismay into the gaping chasm that had once been the heart of the hill. "What is it you seek?" asked a voice behind her.

With a shriek of pure joy she flung her arms around the figure that now stood at her shoulder, glowing like the sun. "You are alive!" she said.

"Yes," said he simply.

"But what of last night?" asked she, "I was sure you had been slain. What of that horrible shriek and the dreadful darkness?"

"My life cannot be taken against my will. Before anything ever was and after all has passed into nothing, I was and ever will be. I laid down my life not only for you, but for all things that would have been utterly destroyed by the acts of last night. Your blood would have strengthened that foul demon beyond anything he has yet achieved. My blood offered willing in exchange for another's broke his power. What began in selfishness and evil, ended in selflessness and love, which alone has power to conquer the darkness. He has been vanquished but not destroyed. He still lurks in the world, full of malice and hate and ready to assist any who give themselves over to a lust for power and destruction. Until last night, mankind had lived in peace and harmony with one another and with all creation, but that peace has been shattered. Man has shown himself vulnerable to evil, willing to place himself above all else, even his own children. It is no longer safe to assume that all men are good in and of themselves. Each individual must hereafter make a decision to follow what is right and good, or to follow his own selfish path into evil and darkness. From the dawn of mankind, it was given into your hands to decide whether to pursue goodness or darkness. A member of your race has chosen the ultimate evil and with his fall, all are now required to make a decision that once came naturally to all."

The girl fell sobbing at his feet, feeling in herself the dreadful truth she had just heard spoken. It was as if something inside her had been torn or ripped away and she was left with a gaping hole, much like the defiled face of the hill. Looking up into his eyes, she said, "I have lost something within myself. I am no longer whole. I have a longing, a desire for something. Something, though I know not what. Something greater than myself."

"Yes," said he, "your whole race now shares that same longing. And with what you fill that hole will determine the course of your life, and the lives of all those around you, from now and ever onwards. Choose carefully."

"Can I choose you?" she asked hesitantly.

A smile crept over his face and the whole hillside seemed to laugh with joy. "Of course," he said. "After last night, the world is hurting and needs to be told these things which you have just heard. I need someone to go forth and tell them. Bring your horse forward."

The girl ran over to the horse which had strayed and was happily nibbling at weeds upon the far side of the hill. She led the beast towards the figure. The stallion pulled back against the reins and nearly reared, trying to avoid the glowing figure before him. "Do not be afraid my simple beast," said the figure, "from now and ever onwards, you and your descendants will no longer be considered simple." The figure turned his side towards the girl and for the first time she saw the gaping wound in his side. From it dribbled a steady stream of silver blood. She gasped in horror and drew back. "Do not be afraid," he said, "this is the price of last night's adventure. Though much was lost, much good also came of it. Take a drop of my blood on your finger and place it on the horse's tongue." Hesitantly the girl complied. Almost reverently she poked a finger into the sliver stream and placed a drop of the precious fluid into the horse's mouth.

An indignant snort was followed by a blinding flash. She no longer held a horse by the reins but a unicorn. The sorrel coat had become white as the snow; wisdom and fire were in his once placid and simple eyes. Cloven hooves of silver had replaced his single hooves of grey. A silver horn protruded proudly from his forehead. He shook his head in disgust a few times and looked with dismay at the girl and the glowing figure.

"Remove his bit," laughed the figure. The girl complied and the unicorn seemed much happier. "Now it is your turn," said he. The girl looked with shock and disgust at the gaping hole in the figure's side and turned pleading eyes to his. "If you really wish to serve me, you must taste of my blood," he said, "by doing so you are binding yourself to me and my purposes. You will gain much in wisdom and abilities but in doing so you are also swearing to serve me, even with the forfeit of your life be it necessary. Do you wish to proceed?"

She nodded and did as she was bidden. She seemed to grow taller and a thirst for knowledge grew within her. A deeper understanding of things once hidden to mortal mind blossomed in her heart. She had changed as much as the horse.

"Now," said the figure," I will tell you of things long hidden to the race of men, things vital to your quest. The demon of war, to whom your father nearly sacrificed you, was once my greatest servant. But he desired things beyond his grasp and made an attempt to supplant me as The Master of All. He was banished from my presence and ever since has made war upon all that is good and wonderful. He has claimed lordship over all creation and still yearns for the power he cannot have. Until last night, he had made little progress in his war against me, but last night there came a breaking. Men, who had once lived in peace, have heeded his call and some have broken away from me seeking the power promised by their new master. Now all must decide whether to follow him or me. None can sit this out. By stepping aside, they are simply declaring themselves for him, if only by doing nothing. This is war a war that has raged since before the world began, there can be no civilians. He will devour everything if all stand aside and let him. I will only do so much. I am Master of all things, but I have given all sapient creatures a choice, and upon that freedom I will not trespass. They must choose what is right or what is evil. I will not infringe upon their decisions for good or ill. If they choose the right, I can assist them, but if they choose the evil I can only stand aside and weep for their ill choices and dire fate. That is why I could not interfere directly in the affairs of last night. It is up to you, and those like you: my servants, to pursue evil in whatever form or guise it takes and do what you must to defeat it and to defend the innocent. You must spread word of this through all lands and to all peoples. It will not be easy and there will be great heartache along the way but you will never be alone; it must be done or evil will consume the world and all within it. Last night a deadly blow was dealt to my enemy, but he is still lurking about and still very powerful. In the end, he will be completely vanquished but until that final day, you are all that stands between the world and devastation. A rent has been created in the hearts of men. They will yearn for me and try to fill the gap with all sorts of vain things. You must tell them the truth of what you have seen. Last night, the innocence of man was lost, but by my blood it can be healed."

The girl had been held spellbound by the tale. The light around the figure dimmed a little, just enough so that she could make out his full form. She had glimpsed a horse-like figure last night and this morning, but now saw him fully, as if a fog had lifted. He was similar to the unicorn standing at her shoulder, but taller and more terrible; his horn and hooves were of gold and he glowed with the very light of the sun.

"Your faithful steed will be the father of the race of mortal unicorns and you shall be the first among a great and future throng of my servants. I will hereafter withdraw from wandering abroad in the world but I will be found by those who seek me. Go forth and teach what you have been taught, fight evil, and protect the innocent." With that he seemed to glow brighter and as the sun topped the head of the hill, vanished into the blinding rays.

This is the story, as it is told through all generations and to all who will listen of the beginning of the Brethren. The girl, Astoria, went on to tell many of the great happenings she had seen, and such was the hunger in the hearts of men that her following quickly grew. Organization was needed and the Brethren was established, each member forsaking lands, riches, and friends to dedicate his life in service to the Master of All. Some became Warriors who chased down and destroyed evil, some became Philosophers ever seeking wisdom and truth, others became poets, minstrels, and Teachers roaming the world, spreading the Truth far and wide.

The evil king retreated to his domain and his advisors, seeing him in a weakened state after his defeat, quickly overthrew him. They then proceeded to fight amongst themselves for the kingdom; evil consumed itself, never to rise again from that quarter. Astoria lived nearly three hundred years, and until the very last year of her life went from village to village sharing all she had seen. The unicorn became her dearest companion and helped her through many dangers and long journeys. He would never be fitted with a bit nor bear any rider but his mistress. He fathered many offspring and each became the beloved companion of one of the Brethren. The unicorn was swift of foot, stealthy at need, wise in council, fierce at bay, and faithful unto death. If his master took a grave wound, he could at will, take it upon himself and spare the life of his friend at the cost of his own. He became the symbol of the order and the means of its swift spread and success.

Anyone who wished could join the Brethren, but must take an Oath to forsake all possessions and quests, save those granted by the Brethren. It was forbidden to marry outside the Brethren, and those within married only seldom as their quests consumed them and their lives were fraught with danger and much travel. Once a decision had been made to join the Brethren, it was made publicly in front of all available members and then an obliging unicorn donated a drop of blood to the aspiring Brother and the Oath was made. A member could leave the Brethren at any time by conscious decision or by vile action, but in so doing lost all access to the knowledge, skills, and long life acquired by its members. Children who wished to join, must wait until their sixteenth birthday and then were allowed to take their Oath. Once an Oath was taken, a unicorn sought out the new Brother and a friendship that would last a lifetime was formed. How a particular unicorn chose a particular man is a mystery known only to unicorns. Together they embarked on a life of adventure in service to the Master.

For the first few centuries, the ranks of the Brethren swelled with new recruits. The Brethren were honored and welcomed wherever they appeared. Their council was sought by kings, philosophers, and merchants. They roamed throughout the civilized world maintaining peace and order and teaching the Truth. The Warrior sect roamed the wild lands keeping evil from encroaching on the lands of peaceful folk and hunted down perpetrators of evil. The Teachers taught not only the Truth, but also writing, reading, music, law, and lore to peasants and lords alike. The Philosophers acted as advisors and negotiators to kings and nations. It was a time of peace and growing prosperity in all lands within the reach of the Brethren.

As time passed and men became prosperous and the peace continued, a contented unrest developed in the middle and upper classes of society. Men began to desire more than they needed and became discontent with what they had. Without a need to work day and night for their daily bread and no wars or imminent dangers to occupy their thoughts, they became lazy and greedy, always wanting more but never satisfied. They began to oppress the lower classes and push the advantage of their status and wealth. The Brethren became an annoyance with their continual preaching of "love all men" and "serve others wholeheartedly" and other such platitudes. The rich felt they somehow deserved what they had and did not care what it cost others to achieve it. They were only peasants after all! Eventually this led to unrest among the peasantry and treachery amongst the ruling classes, which in turn led to wars and uprisings. In the turmoil, men once again sought the aide of the Brethren in hopes of regaining peace and justice. Once order was restored, the population again fell into the discontent that only peace and prosperity can bring; the cycle often repeated itself throughout the centuries with the reputation and numbers of the Brethren cycling along with it. At times they were many and their counsel much sought and at other times they were few and often reviled or forgotten, but always they were there to rise from the ashes when the world needed them once more.

During one such nadir of civilization, a group of opportunists took advantage of the situation and founded the Order of the Unicorn. According to the Order, men deserved material prosperity and it indicated the blessings of the Master. Therefore, the rich were not only blessed, but destined to be richer and more powerful. The poor must have done something terrible to deserve their pitiable state and therefore it was no great evil to treat them as one thought appropriate. These teachings, which were pleasant to the ears of many amongst the well-to-do made the Order of the Unicorn very popular with the nobility. It was not very long before the Brethren were eschewed and their previous place of honor was taken by the usurpers. Knights of the Order went about on prancing white horses adorned with fake horns. Wherever they went, they told the common people that their lack of wealth was due to their lack of blessing by the Master, and the Master only blessed those he found deserving. Therefore, their lords and kings must be wonderful and deserving people, whereas the commonfolk were the scum of the earth and worthy only of endless toil and labor. Needless to say, the peasants were not happy about such things and soon developed a loathing for anyone on a white horse, including the Brethren. More than one was chased from a village by a raging mob and not a few were killed for daring to venture abroad with the Truth. Their teaching was not welcomed by rich or poor; to one they were a nuisance and a reminder of what they should be doing and to the other an out-dated and pedantic preacher who knew nothing of the realities and harshness of life.

The glory days of the Brethren were over once more. Recruits were few and far between. Their teaching and labors seemed vain. There was much enmity and despair among the common people. War was brewing between several nations and the lords brutally oppressed their people. It was dangerous to go out and proclaim the Truth, although they still went few would listen. Those that paid too much attention were bullied by their friends and neighbors into inattention. It was a dangerous time to pay attention to or proclaim the Truth. Why should a man love his neighbor, when his neighbor was out to get him? That sort of thinking did not work in the real world. It is a cruel world where only the strong survive. The Master, if he exists, has forsaken the common people. These and other thoughts plagued the footsteps of the Brethren. The Warriors still fought evil things on the edges of civilization, but no longer pursued criminals within civilized lands. The Philosophers still advised kings and leaders, but secretly in back rooms and out of the way places; their advice was seldom heeded. The Teachers still went about, but they did not willingly show their allegiance. They were readily accepted in the villages to teach the youngsters reading, writing, and history, but could not openly teach the Truth; though they often incorporated it into their histories and legends and discussed it secretly with those open to it. The unicorns were forced into secrecy as well, cloaking themselves in the guise of normal horses. Gradually knowledge of the Brethren waned in the minds of small and the great alike. The legends of the Brethren and the nuisance of the Order became confused and intertwined in local lore and the one became synonymous with the other, though in reality they were worlds apart in practice and doctrine. It was a discouraging time for all, but wherever he hid himself the Enemy watched in delight; the greatest threat to his reemergence in power seemed near its end.

### Book I

"Great heart of my own heart

Whatever befall,

Still be my vision

Oh, Master of All."

'Be Thou My Vision'

Irish Hymn

### Chapter 1

The rain-battered traveler approached the inn on a dark autumn night, a faint glimmer of firelight and the sounds of singing and murmured speech escaped through the open door. A stable boy took the reins of the black mare and led her away into the darkened stable. The man went into the inn, found a secluded corner, and sat down. A serving girl brought him a mug of the local ale, a loaf of bread, and a bowl of indifferent stew. He glanced around the room as he chewed thoughtfully. A few of the locals were glancing his way hopefully. A stranger always meant news, good or bad it was always welcomed in such a distant corner of the world. He finished his meal and caught the eye of one of the more persistent glancers. The man smiled and showed a mouth missing several teeth, but he seemed friendly enough. He walked over and sat down next to the stranger.

"What brings you to a place like this?" asked the local in a drawling slur.

"Just passing through," said the stranger.

"You cannot pass through here to anywhere," laughed the local, "this is as close as you can get to nowhere without falling off the end of the map." Several heads nodded assent to this obvious statement.

"Let us just say I want to see the world and have an adventure or two before I grow too old and sensible to do aught except walk behind a plow," answered the stranger. Several heads smiled and bobbed with mirth; they had been young once it seemed. The stranger then regaled them with enough news and rumors to satisfy their curiosity. As the night wore on, even the most dedicated drunks gave up and went home, leaving the stranger alone in the common room. The innkeeper offered to show his only guest to his room, but the stranger wanted to check on his horse first. The innkeeper said they had as fine a stable as anyone could want, but he could do as he pleased.

In the stable, the man found the mare. She seemed comfortable enough but he knew it was hardly fitting for her. She snorted in exasperation but seemed to accept her current circumstances, if only because he thought she must. "There, there, old girl," he said smilingly, "we shall not be here long. You have endured far worse and you know it. Do the best you can and I will try to make it up to you. If it is any consolation, my room is not much better than your stall." The mare made a noncommittal sound but seemed satisfied.

"Why are you talking to your horse, sir?" asked the stable boy from the hayloft, "it is not as if she could understand you. Sides, we got the best stable in these parts."

"I am sure you do," laughed the man, thinking that they probably had the only stable in the area. "We have traveled many long miles together and sometimes she is the only one I have to talk to for days on end. You should be sleeping, and not eavesdropping on a poor, wandering man."

"Do not tell my boss!" declared the boy, "this is the only thing I have going for me. If he hears about it, he will turn me out in the cold."

The man grew serious and took a closer look at the boy. He must be around fifteen or sixteen but he was short and thin for his age. Whatever the boy received in exchange for his services, he certainly was not well fed. "Do not worry, I will not say anything to get you in trouble," said the man. The boy seemed to visibly relax. "You do not have any family or friends you can go to?" asked the man.

A look of dismay crossed the boy's face. "My ma tossed me out as soon as I turned sixteen. Said I was old enough to fend for myself. Not that I can blame her. I got seven younger siblings she has got to feed. I do not know who my dad is. The innkeeper lets me sleep in the loft and eat any scraps from supper as long as I take care of the horses," said the boy.

The man's heart was moved for the boy and before he knew what he was saying said, "I might have use for an errand boy. How would you like to come with me? I cannot pay much, but the rations would be better. There are many nights when I must sleep rough, but it cannot be much worse than a hayloft." A grin split the boy's face and he readily agreed.

The man returned to the inn and slept for what was left of the night. As he settled his bill, he told the innkeeper he would be taking the boy with him. The man shrugged his shoulders and grumbled under his breath about good help being hard to find, but said nothing anyone was meant to hear. The man went to the stable to fetch his horse and found the boy waiting with a small sack slung over one shoulder and a large grin on his face. The mare was saddled and ready to go.

"First," said the man, "we need to find you a pony and some proper clothes." They wandered off towards the village and found a scruffy looking pony that the owner was willing to part with for only a small fortune. They also found a set of clothes that fit the boy much better than his current rags. After acquiring a few more essentials, they set off. The mare glanced distastefully back at the pony and the boy and gave the man a significant look. He patted her neck in reassurance and she shook her head in exasperation. The boy noticed none of this. To him, the pony might as well have been a great charger and his new clothes a shining suit of armor. He was off on an adventure and anything could happen. The man wondered what on earth he was to do with his newly acquired companion. The mare snorted, as if to say 'I told you so.'

That night they camped in a small clearing alongside a stream. The boy was exceedingly desperate to please and quickly went about setting up camp and even volunteered to try catching a few fish. He was quite adept as a fisherman, and within an hour had several small trout roasting over a cheery fire. During supper, the boy glanced around for the mare. She was nowhere to be seen. The pony grazed contently, hobbled nearby, but the horse was gone. When questioned about it, the man said she came and went as she pleased and she would be back before dawn. In the morning, they broke camp, and as predicted the mare was ready and waiting. As they broke camp, the man handed the boy a bow and a collection of arrows that he had acquired on their trip to town. The boy glanced at them with a mix of joy and trepidation. The man said, "it might not be a bad idea if you learn the use of a bow as we travel." The boy smiled excitedly, though he had never shot at anything save the occasional rabbit. As they traveled, the boy practiced his archery and proved to have a natural talent. The terrain became steeper and the ground stonier as they headed north and east.

Eventually they came to a small city and within stood a towering castle. The town stood within a high, stonewall and though the gate stood open, guards carefully questioned those trying to enter. Outside the walls, a veritable maze of houses, shops, and inns had grown up over the ensuing centuries. Apparently the population had well outgrown the original confines of the city. The man and boy approached the gate. The guards glanced at the man, gave a questioning look at the boy, and then looked again at the man who nodded; they were allowed to pass without question. The guards continued to question those who wanted to go in, but said nothing to the man. The boy wondered at this. They followed a street that climbed towards the castle. Throughout the city people seemed happy and contentedly went about their work with a gaiety that puzzled the boy. People seemed to simply enjoy the myriad mundanities of life and never once seemed to wonder what it was all about and why things were not better. They approached the outer wall of the castle and found the gate heavily guarded. The guards saluted the man as he rode past and glanced questioningly at the boy but let both pass unhindered.

Immediately inside the gate they entered a courtyard and the boy's heart leapt into his throat. There in full regalia, mounted upon a great horse, sat a Knight of the Order of the Unicorn. He set his heels to his pony's sides, pulled the small dagger from his belt, and with a cry of utter anguish charged at the mighty horse and the man who sat upon it. The charger turned his shoulder towards the approaching pony and hardly seemed to notice as the poor beast bounced off the great shoulder. The mounted man jumped down and in one smooth motion drew his sword and placed his foot upon the chest of the fallen boy. As he drew back to lop the boy's head off, steel met steel. The stranger leapt into the fray and his sword now held the knight's sword at bay.

"You will not spill innocent blood in the heart of Astoria," the stranger said quietly. "Put up your blade!" Noticing the guards approaching with bared steel the knight reluctantly complied. "Boy! you will go with the guards and we will discuss this later," said the man. The boy meekly allowed the guards to lead him away but gave a final look of hatred to the man who had so recently tried to kill him.

"The boy's life belongs to me," sneered the knight.

"His life belongs to no man, but the Master," said the stranger.

"I claim it by right of the Order. Any who lay hand to a member of my Order shall surely perish. You are lucky I do not claim yours as well for hindering me," scoffed the knight.

"I do not know why he attacked you, but I shall find out and he will be dealt with according to our laws," said the stranger, "you will not lay a hand on him and he will not bother you again. See to your business and be gone."

"Your laws!" scoffed the knight, "there are no laws, save those of the Order. The laws of mere men such as yourself are nothing but guidelines to keep the peasants in line. True justice is maintained only by the Order. This is not finished." A servant appeared, bowed to the knight, and led him deeper into the castle.

The stranger led the mare quietly to a corner of the courtyard where several servants stood waiting. He removed her harness and baggage, handing them to the waiting servants while another opened a side door and she walked out onto a wide, grassy lawn.

He then made his way to the guardhouse near the gate where the boy sat weeping. As the stranger approached, the boy tried to shrink into the wall against which he sat. The guards left them alone and resumed their posts. "Well?" asked the stranger.

"He..he...he was one of that awful group of men...that...that...defiled my mother," finished the boy. "She was but a girl of sixteen and they came riding through the village and proclaimed that they were better than everybody and saw her alone in a meadow with her father's sheep and... Well she got pregnant and everybody said it was her own fault and she had me and no decent man would have her after that and she has got eight kids by as many men and none of them care," the boy sobbed, "I was only trying to avenge my mum."

The man put an arm around the crying boy and drew him close. "Do not worry, we will not let him hurt you, but revenge is not the same as justice. If you wish to stay here, you must learn many things, including forgiveness. Your family has suffered greatly under the injustice of the world, but that does not mean you may 'avenge' every grievance you have suffered. You must learn that anger and hatred are not the appropriate way to deal with suffering and wrongs. Forgiveness, mercy, and grace must be foremost in your mind and heart else you will be no different than he and the rest of his Order. Justice has a place, but only after careful thought and contemplation, and it must never be carried out in hatred or anger. Even justice must be done with love. Love meaning you are doing what is best for every person involved, even if it hurts. You must learn these things if you wish to stay here. If you wish for revenge rather than justice, then you may take your pony and some provisions and ride to wherever your fate takes you, but you cannot remain here."

The boy sniffled a bit as he looked up into the gentle eyes of the stranger and said, "I never had a dad, but I hope he would have been like you. I would like to stay if I can. I do not rightly understand everything you have said but I would like to try and learn it, if I must. I do not want to be like that man and his fellows."

"Good," said the stranger, "then I shall take you to meet the Lady." They both stood and together walked into the courtyard where a servant waited patiently. The servant led them deep into the castle and in a small inner chamber they found a very beautiful yet ancient woman. They both bowed deeply and took seats facing her.

"Welcome home Tristan," she said. "And welcome also young man, but I hope you will not attack anyone else within the walls of my keep," she added with a smile. The boy blushed crimson. "You have been away a long time," she continued, "I hope your journey has not been in vain."

"I have learned much, Lady," he said, "though little to cheer the heart."

"And what of the boy?" she asked.

"I am not sure exactly," said the man, "I came across him at an inn some days ago and before I knew what I was saying had asked him to come with me. As far as things go, he is as good as an orphan. At worst, he is far better off here than where he was. Perhaps there is more to it, but it will take greater minds than mine to see what. It just felt right to bring him along."

"Very well," said the Lady, "we shall see what becomes of him in the days to come. Young man, as long as you are here, you will be expected to do as you are told and be respectful of all people, including apparent enemies. You are expected to attend lessons on everything from proper grammar to learning the sword; you will be assigned a number of chores as well. You will receive room, board, and a small allowance as long as you stay. You may leave at any time, but if you misbehave and do not correct said behavior when called upon it you will be dismissed. Will you stay or go?" The boy stared at her for a few moments and then said he would happily stay, it sounded a much better arrangement than he could find elsewhere. Especially the sword part. The Lady smiled and clapped her hands. A servant appeared and led the boy to the room that had been prepared for him. She and Tristan talked long into the night about his journey and the evil tidings in the world.

"When shall I see this Lady of yours?" demanded the Knight.

"You shall see her as soon as may be. You did not send word that you were coming as common courtesy demands so you cannot expect to see her on such short notice. Besides, she is currently occupied with an urgent matter of business," said the patient servant to the man from the Order, "perhaps you would like to go to your room and freshen up or perhaps a bit of supper would please you while you wait?"

The man scoffed at the servant and continued his pacing in the small parlor in which he found himself. No other country or king would dare keep a member of the Order waiting! He could not believe the effrontery of this small kingdom on the border of nowhere. But the time was drawing near when the Order would hold sway over all the kingdoms within their reach. This insignificant Burg and its impertinent Lady would soon feel the yoke of the Order and cower in fear at the merest hint of his wrath. Neither could he believe the temerity of that scruffy stranger in staying his hand when that cur of a boy had dared attack him and justly deserved to have his head separated from his shoulders. Where was the respect and welcome due a man of his standing within the Order? His masters would hear of this and an example must be made that the fear of the Order might be maintained. The servant drew up a chair and prepared for a long night of watching the man pace.

Some time in the small hours of the morning, the wearily pacing man was led into a small chamber in which sat a very old yet regal woman. He had not meant to bow, but something in the sheer presence of the woman summoned respect he never meant to give. He had meant to overpower her with awe and fear and scorn her with his wrath, but he felt like a small boy caught by his mother in some small act of disobedience. The woman smiled as if she knew his mind and with a hand beckoned him to come forward.

"Lady," he began, "I have traveled over many leagues to this forsaken city of yours. The Order of the Unicorn has mandated that every city, province, and kingdom must have a representative of the Order in place to settle minor disputes and to relieve the local authorities of the tedium of maintaining law and order. Only the most important matters need be brought before the local authorities and by doing so, we wish only to serve the common good and those who serve justice and peace."

Instead of hearing him with reverent awe, his statement was greeted with laughter that was dangerously close to giggling. "You have no idea who we are?" asked the Lady, "of old we have been the standard for law and justice and everything peaceful and true. Are we completely forgotten? Is even our legend a secret in these troubled times?"

"I know," said the man in consternation, "that you are a standoffish people and have never hailed king nor lord but have dwelt quietly in your little valley far away from the dwellings of other men. Were you warlike you would soon enough have been dealt with by greater nations, but as you seek only your own ends and this outpost on the edge of forever is of no interest to anyone but yourselves you have been left largely in peace. But the time is coming when no rogue state or city will be allowed to follow its own course. All must unite and fight together the great evil that is brewing in the world. You must unite with the rest of the world under the banner of the Unicorn or you will be cut off and destroyed. We are your only chance of survival."

The old woman seemed lost in thought, "it seems only a few short years ago that we were known in all lands as purveyors of knowledge, wisdom, and justice. Now we must act in secrecy but our presence is no less vibrant in the world, though we have dwindled of late. Our span of years is thrice that or more of other men, but can the years have so swiftly passed us by? We have dwindled not only in number but also in memory and significance. These are grave tidings indeed. We are failing in our quest. We must come out of the shadows and renew our efforts to reach the lost and hopeless! A great evil you say? Yes, a great evil indeed lurks out there, greater than even you can imagine. But the evil I am most concerned with is our laxity of late. We have fallen into myth and decay out of a fear for our own lives. But no more! We must break out of this coffin in which we have entombed ourselves, shake off the dust, and rock the foundations of the world once more!" The man was thoroughly confused as to what the old woman was musing about, but apparently it had her greatly excited. Perhaps she was senile. She seemed to have forgotten he was even there. "Angbar!" she cried as a servant shuffled in, "call a General Assembly immediately! Everyone is to attend, even the newest recruit. Rouse those lazy sluggards from their beds. I do not care if it is not yet dawn."

"Yes Lady," said the confused servant as he bowed and dashed out of the room.

She then directed her hawk-like gaze at her guest and continued, "thank you young man for these tidings that have roused this slumbering old bear into action. As for your offer of maintaining peace and justice within the bounds of my land, I thank you but we have been doing quite well without you for the last few millennia and I think will be doing quite well when your Order has passed out of memory."

"But," started the man, "it is not a request or an offer. It is a mandate by the High Council of the Order of the Unicorn. You must!"

"I must nothing!" laughed the old woman, "I doubt any of your high and mighty council has ever even glimpsed a unicorn. Yet you have the audacity to order around a woman who has seen The Unicorn and received this position with His blessing. Now off with you. Go and tell all your masters how ill-used you have been. Declare war on us if you will. We have heard it all before and survived worse. I have not time to deal with your self-important schemes. I have a rabble to rouse!" With a delighted laugh she sprang from her chair and skipped off like a girl. A servant appeared and the dumbfounded man followed obediently, mounted his waiting horse, and rode off into the grey morning.

### Chapter 2

Tristan had hardly had time to return to his chambers and clean up before the clang of the meeting bell summoned all of the Brethren to a General Assembly. The Lady stood in the middle of the floor of the Great Hall, waiting for all to assemble and quiet to ensue. Silence engulfed the room and the old woman began, "a member of the self-proclaimed Order of the Unicorn appeared before me today offering his protection from the coming evil." Laughter echoed through the Hall. She continued, "of course I sent him packing, but the fact that he comes into the very heart of our land and has no idea who or what we are was worrying enough that I roused all of you from your beds and called this meeting. Apparently, we are all but forgotten in the minds of other men, great or small! What has happened to our mission? We are afraid of what? Death? What hold has death on any of us? It is an honor to die for the cause. How many are dying because we are afraid to die? I call upon each of you, from the least to the greatest, to put aside your fear and grasp firmly to our purpose and spread the Truth to all people and all lands. Evil is rampant in the world. Despair haunts the steps of the common people. Power, corruption, and greed rule in all lands. Justice and mercy are forgotten. I command you to go forth boldly and proclaim the Truth, and if necessary die in the process. 'Tis better to die doing our duty than to be found safely hiding within these walls as the world perishes around us. I do not mean to face the Master one day and have to explain to him why we have been caught sleeping. We have each taken an Oath and now I am calling upon you to fulfill it. Secrecy may be needed at times, but now is not the time. Get out there and do your duty. Quit hiding in the shadows and jumping at mice. Go out and shake the foundations of the world as we were created to do. And may the Master ride with you." With that, she withdrew and the crowd broke into an excited uproar.

The Council of Six was shortly thereafter summoned to a meeting with the Lady. As her closest advisors, she needed their insight into how to waken the sleeping giant. "You heard my speech," she stated dryly, "now what?"

The Council consisted of two members of each major sect of the Brethren: the Warriors, the Philosophers, and the Teachers, and were accounted the wisest and most experienced of the Brethren. They debated and discussed late into the morning and as the sun reached its noon peak, they emerged from the chamber tired but firm in their purpose and excited about their plans, as they had not been in years beyond memory. Over the years, the Brethren had fallen into complacency, as had every other corner of civilization. Hopefully, they had not been roused too late to face the utter darkness that again was threatening to consume the world. It had been decided that the Teaching sect would ride forth immediately with as many as could be spared from teaching the students and apprentices, and word would be sent to those already in the field that the time for secrecy was over and they should speak wherever they found an audience or receptive ear. Perhaps a message of hope in a world of despair would again reach the hearts of the masses as it had in the glory days of Astoria. The Philosopher sect was to send its advisors to all known kings, princes, lords, generals, and leaders. Those already placed were to come out of the shadows and openly advise the rulers of the dangers lurking ahead. The Warrior sect was to openly pursue criminals within the bounds of kingdoms and principalities, as well as maintaining their defense of the Northern borders to keep evil things of the wild from wandering into civilized lands. They were also to advise any ruler that requested it, in the defense of their country from external threats. It was a call joyfully received and enacted by all, for this is what they had been born to do.

Amidst all this commotion the boy felt lost in the confusion. Everyone seemed to be running around preparing for some great event or journey. Horses were saddled. Bags were packed. Supplies were loaded. Goodbyes were said. The boy felt very small and alone amidst the chaos. The frenzy continued well into the evening and the boy felt he had been completely forgotten when a firm hand gripped his shoulder and he looked hopefully up into the eyes of Tristan. He smiled down at the boy and said, "you are not forgotten."

Together they walked into the dining hall for supper. In the chaos of the day, almost a quarter of the population had left on one errand or another and another third was to leave on the morrow. The boy asked what all the fuss was about and the man mentioned something about a stirred anthill. The boy laughed and the man smiled. After they had eaten, they retreated to the boy's small room.

"I have traveled abroad for almost a year," said the man, "so I am allowed a brief rest before my next assignment. But time grows short, evening is falling, and night comes. A great darkness is lurking beyond sight or hearing but it hungers to plunge the world into utter desolation. It was driven back once, long ago. But its malevolence and strength have grown with the years and its time is drawing nigh. We have ever been heralds of that darkness, trying to turn the hearts of men to justice and light, but over the years our power has waned and our messengers have gone unheeded. What you saw today was the rousing of all our strength in one last, great push for Truth. The time is coming when all mortal hearts must decide on whose side they stand."

"On whose side?" asked the boy.

Continued the man, "on the side of darkness, evil, and the Enemy, or on the side of goodness, light, and the Master."

The boy looked askance at the man as if he were sitting with a grown man who truly believed in monsters under the bed. All his life he had heard fairy tales about the Master of All and how he had driven away evil for a time and about the Brethren, men who rode unicorns and spread the Truth and fought evil. But he had never seen anything to suggest that such tales could possibly be true. The man looked down at the boy with a knowing light in his eyes. He understood the boy's doubts.

"You doubt there is any such thing as the Master or the Brethren I think," said the man. The boy looked at the man with awe, as if he could read minds. "I thought that once too," said the man. "As a boy, my mother took ill and died and my father went mad with grief and took his own life. I was left alone without friend, family, or protection in a dark and dangerous world. If I had ever believed in the Master, I then decided that in a world of such pain and injustice there could be no being that is truly love incarnate. I became a petty thief, stealing what I could just to survive. One day I was caught and brought before a magistrate who sentenced me to a prison camp where I would spend the rest of my days quarrying stone. But then a man seated next to the magistrate whispered in his ear. The magistrate turned his gaze upon me and spoke, "this man will take full responsibility for you and spare you the horrors of the quarry, but you must go with him and do as you are told. If you disobey or runaway, you will be tossed into the quarry and there will toil away the rest of your miserable life." I was taken from that place and brought here where I learned many things. Including, that even in the midst of tragedy and horror, there is still goodness and love and mercy. Evil happens not because the Master is not real or absent but because he has given men the choice of whether to do evil or good and there are those who choose evil. Good survives and love exists because the Master is both. Without him the world would quickly succumb to darkness. The Master offers us the choice to escape from evil and to fight for good. Here I learned that while tragedy and suffering happen to all, the Master gives us strength, patience, and hope to endure them and through suffering and trials we grow stronger and closer to him. Here you will learn many useful things, even if you choose not to join us. I will be checking in on you every now and then over the next few weeks, but soon I must leave on another journey and may not see you for some time."

"But I am going with you," said the boy.

"I am sorry," said the man, "but it is forbidden for any to travel with me on such a dangerous mission save another of the Brethren. Tomorrow you may leave and go wherever it is you feel you must, or you can stay and learn for a time and eventually make a decision as to whether to take your Oath and join the Brethren or to leave at a time of your choosing. A servant will wake you early tomorrow and at that time you must decide what to do. Now goodnight and I will see you soon." He blew out the lamp and left the room.

The man checked in frequently with the boy who had decided to stay for at least a time. He was learning much and quite enjoying himself, though some of the history and grammar were not as exciting as the swordplay and riding lessons. He even enjoyed running errands and working in the kitchens or the gardens which were considered a vital part of his training. The boy seemed to be thriving in his new surroundings and for the first time in a long time felt truly happy. Tristan was quite busy in his own right. He had many people with whom he needed to discuss a multitude of issues. He had equipment to mend or replace, and he had some specific things he needed to learn quickly before his next mission. The few weeks of his 'respite' passed very quickly, too quickly for his liking. His next assignment was not one to which he was looking forward, but the Lady had bidden so he would fulfill his mission or die trying. "I am off tomorrow Pallin," he said to the boy, "I do not know how soon I shall be able to see you again, but I will write when I get the chance. Which I guess will give you a good excuse to practice your reading." The boy did not know whether to laugh or cry and seemed to be doing a bit of both. They embraced one last time and then the man walked off, a tall lonely figure retreating into the night towards an uncertain future.

Early the next morning, Tristan climbed back into the saddle he had vacated far too short a time ago. The mare frisked, eager to be on the road once more; she did not take kindly to a sedentary life. The Lady stood at his stirrup and bid him farewell, "I know this is not something you like doing, but I think you are the best man for the job. Take care of yourself and let me know if you learn anything that may be of use. May the Master ride with you!" With that, she slapped the mare on the rump and the pair galloped off into the darkness.

Galloping in the dark before dawn is a good way to get oneself killed, so he quickly reined in the mare though she slowed only reluctantly and gave him a resentful look over her shoulder as they continued at a fast walk. To be on the road again did hold some excitement for him as well as for the mare, but his destination was far from pleasing. He hated the uncertainty of his latest assignment but it was vital to the Lady and any course of action the Brethren might take in the near future. He enjoyed every moment of the ride to Waymeet, or at least as much as he could with the future looming before him dark and uncertain. The Order of the Unicorn was going to hold a recruiting session there in a few days and he was going to sign up! This had to be the craziest thing he had ever attempted in over a century of impossible quests. But the Lady knew what she was doing so he had to trust her. The mare was not all that excited about it, but she had done crazier things in her life and she was committed to keeping her rider out of as much trouble as she possibly could, someone had to. It still amused her that she was a unicorn pretending to be a horse who might one day pretend to be a unicorn if the Lady's plan was successful. It was certainly a mess but she did enjoy the irony.

They arrived in Waymeet in time for the evening meal at the inn. The inn itself was packed with prospective Order recruits and the best Tristan could do was to get a bed in the hayloft. The mare would have had to be tied to a tree because the stable was packed with horses. She was left to find her own shelter for the night, which was much more to her liking than any cramped stall with moldy straw for bedding. Near the edge of town he dismounted, removed her tack which he hid under a handy brush pile, and shouldered the saddlebags. It would arouse too many questions if he was seen to loose his horse into the woods or if anyone saw him carrying around a saddle with no horse to go with it. It was much better that people assumed he had come in on foot; in the throng he would hardly be noticed. He scavenged a hunk of cheese and a bit of stale bread for the evening meal, was apparently all the inn had left. They were hardly expecting such a crowd. The Order was not in particular favor with the common people, but there were those who saw it as their chance to become rich and powerful, though perhaps not respected by too many people. Men had traveled for over a hundred miles to take part in the trials the following day. Tristan climbed into the loft and tried not to bump any of the half dozen other men trying to sleep in the dusty hay.

The morning dawned crisp and clear as only an autumn morning can. Tristan snuck down to the river and washed the dust from his face and hands. He made a breakfast of cold water and provisions from his saddlebag; he was not about to risk breakfast at the inn after such a dismal supper. When he had eaten and cleaned-up, he found and saddled the mare who had had a much better night than he did; he never knew a man could snore like that, he had met quieter bears. He led the mare out into the meadow that was to host the day's trials. There was already a line of men waiting to register with a rather portly fellow sitting under a striped canopy. He led the mare over to the copse of trees that was the unofficial hitching post. He left her there, though she laid her ears back when he told her to be a good girl and stay put. He got in line and waited for his turn to register.

"Name?" asked the bored looking registrar.

"Tristan," said the man.

"Age?"

"Umm...35, give or take a century," said Tristan. He was one hundred and thirty five but that would be difficult to explain. The man raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Occupation?"

"Mercenary?" said Tristan.

The registrar looked at him with complete disbelief. "You do not know your own occupation?" he asked.

"I am just not sure how to boil it down into a one word answer," he replied.

"Home?"

"Rune's Ford on the border of the Wilds," said Tristan. Once upon a time, it had actually been his home, but not in well over a century.

"Reasons for joining the Order?"

"I would like to dedicate my life and skills to a worthy cause rather than renting them out to the highest bidder," he said. The registrar raised an eyebrow but did not laugh, though he might have smirked a bit. Tristan was quite proud of that answer; it had taken him the better part of two days to come up with it. The smirk hurt.

"You are number 57, you may proceed to the next station." He took the sheet of paper handed to him by the clerk and walked towards the line of men waiting their turn halfway across the field.

The trials consisted of various physical disciples (archery, riding, fencing, hand-to-hand combat) and a written test that covered everything from basic reading and writing skills to mathematics, history, literature, philosophy, logic, and geography. The applicants were divided into five groups, each of which would rotate through each exercise. His first area would be archery, which simply involved shooting five arrows and receiving a score for how close each one came to the center of the target. The written test was next, but that did not prove too difficult for someone of his background. During the swordplay he faced off with first one and then another of the applicants and then with one of the supervising members of the Order. He did the same with the hand-to-hand combat. The score of each was based on how well the three observing judges thought he excelled in the areas of balance, footing, defense, attack, and overall technique; winning was not so much the goal as showcasing one's skills. The equestrian trial was last. Horses were provided for those without a suitable mount (which was the majority of the recruits who had wandered in on foot or borrowed their father's plow or carthorse). The mare was frisking excitedly as he led her towards the starting point. This session would judge how well he could ride in a variety of situations.

First, the judges examined the mare head to foot to make sure she was sound and also inspected his tack to make sure he was not somehow planning to cheat. She put up with the inspection as best she could, but her tail swished in obvious irritation and she rolled her eyes dramatically as each foot was lifted and inspected. Once she had passed inspection, he was given the signal to begin. The trial would be timed and points would be given or taken for how well he responded to the variety of obstacles along the way. The first part was simply a gallop across the meadow to see if he could keep his seat at full speed. On the far side of the field he entered a small woody area that climbed steeply uphill and then down along a trail that snaked through overhanging branches and fallen logs. Then he had to swim his mount across a river flowing swift and cold. The final leg brought him back through the meadow where a dead snake on a string pulled by a hidden handler moved across the path and was meant to test his ability to handle a panicked horse. The mare simply snorted with disgust at the dead reptile and quickly finished the course.

If they miraculously got through all the recruits today they would still have to tabulate everyone's score, which could take days. Not everyone who applied to join the Order was accepted. They wanted the most intelligent and skilled individuals they could lay hands on. Some of the unskilled recruits that showed obvious promise either in the physical and/or the mental side of things would be taken under consideration for further training depending on the current needs of the Order. Those who excelled at both or either would quickly be snatched up and put into a rigorous training program and would soon be on their way to becoming active members of the organization. Now all they had to do was wait. As it turned out, they were able to finish by nightfall, though just barely. The participants were tired, but exhilarated and no one could sleep because of their excitement so the innkeeper rolled out several kegs of the local ale and brought out what food he had left and a celebration was soon underway. A few of the men even broke out their instruments and started to play, which tempted some of the locals to come out and join the fray, and very soon a full-fledged dance was underway in the meadow. A bonfire was lit nearby just to enliven things and a good time was had by all. Tristan was content to sit on the edge of the woods and watch the goings-on with a mug of ale and a hunk of bread. The mare grazed contentedly nearby. A couple of would-be Knights wandered in his direction and sat down.

"Why are you not joining the party?" asked a short freckled man.

"This may be all you get out of this whole thing," laughed the other, a tall bearded fellow.

"I am content just to watch," said Tristan.

"Too bad," said freckles, "some of the local girls are not too bad looking."

"At least in the dark," laughed his friend. "

If I was interested in girls I would not be trying out for the Order," said Tristan.

"No fun at all is he Otis?" said the freckled man to his friend.

"No he aren't," said Otis.

"Sorry to disappoint you," said Tristan.

"You seemed to do fairly well on all the tests," said freckles more conversationally.

"Fair enough I suppose," said Tristan, "we will know tomorrow I hope."

Otis shrugged noncommittally and freckles nodded, then both headed back to the party. Tristan watched them go and wondered if either would make it in, Otis at least probably had not passed the written test.

### Chapter 3

Dawn came early and Tristan did not greet it as he usually did. He had fallen asleep leaning against a tree and was cold and stiff from his unusual sleeping arrangements. The mare was nuzzling him gently; it was far too early. The sun had not risen yet and only a ghostly grey light suffused the world, mist and dew lay thick on everything. He felt very cold, wet, and tired. He looked hopefully towards the fire, but it had sputtered out in the waning night. With a sigh he rose and walked to the river to clean-up. After his very cold ablutions, he headed back towards the meadow. People were starting to stir, though very reluctantly. Most seemed to have fallen asleep wherever they happened to run out of energy and some of the sleeping places made his tree look a feather bed! A bugle sounded somewhere in the fog and there were many yells as the remaining sleepers were startled from their slumber. A senior Knight emerged with a roll of official looking parchment and nailed it to a large oak in the center of the meadow; they must have been tabulating all night. A crowd quickly gathered around the posted results. There was an occasional celebratory cheer but more often came a dispirited moan. Tristan waited until the majority of the recruits had had their chance and the rejects had melted away into the fog. Next to number 57 was written a small note: please report to the Captain immediately. He wondered what that could portend, but wasted no time in complying and made his way quickly towards the central pavilion that had been erected in the meadow. A small group of successful recruits was milling around the tent as he approached but none went inside.

By now the sun was rising and driving away the damp fog and some warmth was creeping back into the world. Tristan ducked inside the tent. Someone outside yelled, "I would not go in there! They told us to wait here." But he ignored them.

"How many times must I tell you to wait outside," bellowed a grumpy looking clerk.

"I am number 57," said Tristan, "the parchment said to report to the captain immediately."

"Oh," shrugged the clerk, "then follow me." The bony little man escorted him into the back of the tent which was walled off with hanging canvas drapes, and led him into a sort of makeshift office area where a large, muscular man reclined in a camp chair behind a desk constructed of trunks and boxes.

"Number 57!," said the Captain, "so at last I meet our victor."

"Victor?" asked Tristan.

"Why yes!" said the Captain. "You outscored everyone else two to one. If I did not know better I would say you had done this a few times before or had bribed the judges or something, but I know you have done no such thing, so you must be a man of extraordinary talent. Please sit down." Tristan took a seat on the shaky camp chair proffered by the clerk who then withdrew and left the two alone. Then the Captain began again, "usually we take these raw recruits, stick them in a unit commanded by a seasoned officer, and send them on a tour of the border between the North Countries and the Wildlands. This gives them field experience, weeds out any cowards that slipped through, and gets them used to a military hierarchy. You however, I think would be wasted on such an expedition. What is your experience in leading a group of men through hostile territory? I see from your file that you have some experience as a mercenary."

Surprised at the course things were taking, Tristan cleared his throat and began, "I was orphaned as a young boy and since then I have tagged along with and later led bands of armed men on various expeditions and missions, even into the heart of the Wildlands. I have also had plenty of experience scouting alone."

"And would you feel comfortable leading a group of these raw recruits yourself?" asked the Captain.

"Sir," he replied, "I would feel comfortable leading them but I hardly know how this Order of yours works. I do not know the rules and regulations. How could I possibly train them to your specifications?"

"If that is your only concern then you have yourself a command," smiled the Captain. The Captain stood up and Tristan did the same. The Captain smiled broadly and clapped Tristan on the back, "you have your orders Lieutenant! My secretary will brief you." As if by magic, a short, bird-like man appeared and led the dazed Tristan away. Things had most definitely taken an unthinkable turn.

The little man left him in the hands of several minor officers and clerks and they spent the greater part of the day going over rules, regulations, doctrine, maps, and a variety of other information vital to the success of his mission. He was to take a group of six new recruits (from the very group assembled outside the tent awaiting further orders) and spend three months on a tour of the Wildlands. He was to turn a half-dozen farm boys into a group of competent soldiers within that time. Tristan was not sure how this fit in with his mission for the Lady, but this appeared to be the only way to infiltrate the Order so he had to go along with it for now. Although three months in the Wilds would not bring any meaningful insight into the future plans of the Order immediately, perhaps it would bear fruit later. As the sun was setting, he was escorted to yet another tent and equipped with a uniform and the assorted gear he would need on this sort of expedition. That night he was allowed to sleep in the officers' tent (the other recruits had to sleep outside in a cold drizzle) though he slept little, as his mind kept buzzing over the bizarre turn his life had taken in the last twelve hours. Early the next morning, everyone was roused from their beds and assembled in the meadow in a mockery of military precision.

The Captain paced back and forth slowly in front of the assembled ranks and gave an encouraging speech that challenged those present to train hard and go forth for the glory of the Order. He then dismissed them to the care of their unit commanders and withdrew to his tent. The new recruits had been divided into groups of six and each group was placed under the command of a junior officer. Tristan's group eyed him curiously and several of them recognized him from the trials as a novice himself. Yesterday they had received their orientation to the Order and were somewhat familiar with what they were to face over the next few months, though after that no one knew quite what to expect. They had also been issued uniforms, swords, bow and arrows, bedrolls, water skins, and the other miscellaneous equipment required for their journey. Horses were provided for those who lacked an adequate mount, though the quality of their mount might not be what they had hoped when they decided to try out for the Order it was far better than walking or riding a decrepit plow horse.

"Get packed up and let us be on our way," said Tristan to his wide-eyed neophytes. They just stood there and gazed about them blankly like a herd of sheep. "I said move it," bellowed Tristan. This jolted them out of their reverie and sent them scurrying for their packs. Within half an hour, they were all mounted and riding single file towards their assigned patrol route through the Wildlands. It would take almost a week in the saddle before they even reached the borders of the Wilds, but in that time Tristan could start turning these soldier-wannabes into the real thing. Their path was to take them on a zigzag course between the Wildlands and the borders of the more civilized North Countries. Their assignment was simply to 'maintain order' wherever they went. There would probably be run-ins with bandits, outlaws, and the strange, evil things that flourished in the Wilds.

The Wildlands were uncharted and unclaimed by any sovereign power. It was a haunt of things evil and dark, and of men who did not want to be found. There were scattered settlements, but at best they were a gathering place for scoundrels and scofflaws. Anything and anyone could be lurking out there, and it was the perfect place to turn a ragtag group of men into a cohesive fighting unit. The Warrior sect of the Brethren often rode the borders, serving as a guard between peaceful folk and those forces that would murder them in their beds. They hunted down or chased off many vile and evil creatures (and men) that would otherwise terrorize safer lands. Tristan glanced back at the file of men behind him and could only wonder at what he had gotten himself into.

They rode until nearly dark and then drew rein and camped in a small grove of trees next to a little stream. Camp chores were assigned on a rotating basis and with practice they were able to set-up camp, prepare the evening meal, stand watch, and break camp in a swift and efficient manner. Tristan felt that on this first night on their own he should address his men; he wanted to lay out the rules and answer any questions that they might have. He motioned for them to seat themselves on a couple of fallen logs facing him; they did so, but with much groaning and grumbling, as they were far more used to walking behind a plow than riding all day and their muscles ached terribly. Tristan smiled to himself as he remembered his first few weeks of such training. They would survive.

"Welcome to the real thing," he began, "many of you were hoping for glory and riches, but if that is your desire or destiny, you have a very long way to go and much work ahead of you. We will be riding many hard miles and facing unknown dangers, but when we come out the other side you will be much stronger for it and ready to take on your next great challenge, but until that day you are under my command and I expect you to behave as such. If I say jump, you jump. You are free to leave at any time, but you will not be allowed to rejoin once you have left. I can dismiss you from this unit if I feel you are unfit for duty or have become a problem. This is very wild country through which we will be riding, and I need each of you to obey every command as if your life depended upon it because it often will. I may not have worn this uniform any longer than you, but I have led men into danger before and often venture forth alone, just under a different banner. The rules are simple: you do as you are told when you are told, you ask permission before doing anything you have not been told to do, no drinking, no women, no gambling, no fighting, no foul language, no stealing. That means if you are hungry you do not raid someone's field or demand that he feed you. If you have not packed it, bought it, or hunted it, you do not eat it. If we meet a local and he invites us in for supper, that is fine, but you will not flaunt your uniform and sword and demand that he feed you. If you feel the need to chase after a woman, you had better leave the unit to do so. Even if a woman offers herself to you, you will not engage in any sort of inappropriate behavior with her or you will be expelled from this company. The rules may seem overbearing and strict, but I need all of your energy and attention focused on our mission. Any distractions hinder your progress as soldiers and endangers the unit as a whole. Anyone who has a question can feel free to ask it now."

The men looked at their new commander and saw the dead seriousness in his eyes and manner; no one dared bring up the fact that he had only worn the uniform as long as they, and what gave him the right to command? In the flickering light of the fire, they saw that although the uniform was new, he wore it as if he were born to it. There were a few nervous questions about training, provisions, and the dangers ahead, but most of them silently wondered what they had volunteered for. Shortly thereafter, they retired to their bedrolls, though one man had to stay up on guard duty for a couple hours before he got to seek his blankets. Far too early the next morning, Tristan roused them from their beds and after a light breakfast had them practice their swordsmanship and archery for a couple hours. Then it was back into the saddle (with many groans of agony) and they rode for much of the day. Late in the afternoon, they stopped to rest the horses and practiced hand-to-hand combat and then rode on until it was nearly dark. This is how things progressed in the week it took to reach the borders of civilization; there were practice sessions in fencing, archery, and fighting hand-to-hand interspersed with long stretches in the saddle. As they rode, Tristan guided them away from inhabited country and led them through rocky areas, steep hills, overgrown woods, rushing rivers, and any other obstacle he could find to challenge their riding skills. As the week progressed, they began to trust and respect their leader more, became less apt to whine about sore muscles or saddle sores, and grew closer as a unit. He drew them away from inhabited areas to force them to depend on one another for camaraderie, and because he did not quite trust them around women and alcohol yet. Their skills began to sharpen and improve as the week ran out. Their bodies began to toughen and acclimate to long hours in the saddle and extended periods of activity with odd sleep patterns and situations. By the end of the week, they considered themselves experienced campaigners although they still had a very long way to go.

One problem with so much training and riding was that it required a lot of energy which in turn required a lot of food. Since they were not traveling with a packhorse and did not have much time to hunt or forage, they only had what food they could carry in their saddlebags which would not last forever. After a week's travel in uninhabited areas, Tristan finally allowed his men to visit a village on the edge of the Wilds. They deserved a break after a week's hard work, and they needed to restock their supplies. Restocking opportunities would be unpredictable once they started their patrol circuit. Before he let them loose on the town, he told them, "now remember what I said about conducting yourselves in public. Do not discredit your uniform. I know that others who have worn this outfit have often used it to take advantage of situations like this, but you will not. You are a credit to this company and the Order and I expect you to behave accordingly. Now go enjoy yourselves, but be back to camp by midnight." Tristan took care of procuring supplies and the men headed towards the inn for some much-needed relaxation.

As the six uniformed men wandered into the inn, all eyes turned to watch, many with looks of worry or disgust. The serving girls especially looked uneasy, but when they quietly sat down by themselves at a table in the corner, everyone relaxed a little bit. They politely ordered (and paid for) bread, stew, and tea. Tea! Who ever heard of soldiers drinking tea? The curiosity of the locals was definitely aroused. These were the nicest soldiers that had ever darkened the doorway of the inn. The men would have loved to partake in copious amounts of the local brew and take advantage of the poor girls who served at table, but such was the respect they had for the words of their leader that they refrained, and to their surprise passed a rather enjoyable evening. Eventually, the curiosity of the locals overcame their fear and there was much talking, singing, and even a game or two of darts. It was nearly midnight when they bid their new friends goodnight and headed back towards their camp. Tristan donned a hooded cloak and snuck into the inn to observe his men anonymously from a corner. He was quite pleased with the way things were progressing.

The next morning he let them sleep in (meaning it was an hour past sunrise instead of an hour before when they got up). Today would be their first excursion into the Wildlands. They would be taking a circuitous route through the Wilds that would sporadically bring them back into more hospitable territory to rest and resupply. Once they were packed and ready to go he said, "today is our first trek into the Wilds. Be on the alert, there are evil things about both man and beast. Our job is to 'maintain order' which means we will chase off or destroy any evil thing we encounter. Our job is to protect the innocent people who live or travel in these forsaken lands. Your behavior last night at the inn was excellent; you are to be commended. Such upstanding behavior is to be the rule rather than the exception. As we enter these uncivilized regions, we will meet with many whose behavior will not be so polite. You are not to use lethal force on another man unless absolutely necessary, or as deemed necessary by the Common Law after a fair trial. Evil beasts may be destroyed at need. Do not let any bandits, outlaws, or other rascals we meet upon the road goad you into a fight. They will brag and scoff and insult you but pay them no heed. You know your worth even if they do not and their uninformed and little minds can produce no insult that should arouse your anger. Trust each other and watch your backs. We ride north!" They mounted up and rode side by side into the trees.

For traveling in such infamous territory, their first patrol through it was rather unremarkable. They met no one for the whole ten-day ride and only rarely glimpsed the retreating shadow of some dark creature vanishing into the depths of the forest. There were evil things about, but most were solitary creatures and did not dare confront a large and well-armed party. They continued to alternate their riding with training sessions and each day their skills and confidence grew. After ten days on the road, their supplies were dwindling and the men were growing weary of always traveling and watching for enemies. That evening Tristan led them towards a village he knew on the very borders of the Wildlands. They had been watched however, and a dark figure ghosted through the trees and stood in the middle of the trail before them. It appeared to be a cloaked man on a dark horse that seemed part of the dusk itself. He was brandishing a sword. He reined his mount sharply to face the intruders.

"You will not pass," he said in a menacing voice, "these people have suffered much from the likes of you and you will not trouble them again. Be gone and never return." Some of the horses danced a little, picking up their riders' anxiety. This was the first true challenge they had ever faced. Everything else had been mere practice. But Tristan did not look nervous or even concerned, in fact he seemed to be smiling. True it was only one man, but one well-trained man could do much damage to a company of untested recruits. "Be gone I say," said the man, "I do not wish to hurt you, but if you push matters I will do what I must." Tristan's company just stood there, as if rooted to the earth.

"We mean only to pass through the village and buy supplies," said Tristan, "we have been traveling for many days and our food is running low. We will not trouble the locals. We ask only to be allowed to buy supplies and rest for the night."

The stranger made a peculiar noise as Tristan finished. It sounded like he was trying to hide a laugh. "That is what every member of your vile Order says, but in the end it all comes to naught," said the stranger, "this is your last warning, be gone!" With that, he started to ride closer at a menacing walk.

The soldiers loosened their swords in their sheaths, preparing to face the stranger in battle, but Tristan held up a hand signaling them not to draw their weapons. The horses tossed their heads and snorted in fear. As the stranger approached, a feeling of imminent danger and awe hummed in the air; the very leaves seemed to quiver with it. One of the horses whinnied in fear and started to buck; he wanted to run but his rider held him firm. Just a few feet from Tristan the dark horse stopped.

"GO!" said the stranger. Every fiber in the recruits and their mounts wanted to flee, but Tristan held them firm. His mare did not move a muscle. The stranger's horse reared and ceased blending into the night; he shone like the full moon. He snorted and pawed the air and a menacing fire burned in his eyes. The moon had not yet risen, but he glowed with the light of it. Silver flashed from his hooves and the horn on his head. The stranger's cloak was thrown back and his silver armor shone in the light of his mount; his sword was held high. This was too much for the horses; they reared, bucked, or fled. Four recruits picked themselves up from the ground only to stare in awestruck horror at the glowing beast before them. Two had unsheathed their swords, facing what seemed moonlight in the guise of a warrior. The other two froze with fear. Tristan stood firm and his mare shook her head and rolled her eyes, unimpressed by the display.

"Put up your swords," said Tristan to his two functional men. They reluctantly complied. The unicorn had quit pawing the air and stood patiently waiting for whatever happened next.

"Why do you not run?" asked the rather confused stranger. No mortal horse could stand the full, unveiled fury of a unicorn.

"I have nothing to fear," said Tristan, "and neither would you if you were paying more attention. What I said before is true, we are simply here to rest and buy supplies. And now I hope you will believe what I say." The stranger took a better look at Tristan and understanding dawned in his eyes.

"I see," he said, "I do not understand, but things are as they are." The unicorn abruptly quit glowing and looked nothing more than a rangy sorrel horse. The stranger was simply a cloaked rider, his sword had vanished. "I do apologize for the misunderstanding," he said, "but we have had much trouble with the Order in these parts before and I was simply trying to spare the local people more anguish."

"You do not need to explain your actions," said Tristan, "though you could have spared us much trouble had you been paying closer attention." The mare snorted in emphasis. "Now you could correct most of the damage by chasing down my missing horses, including those that fled with their riders." The stranger took off in the direction the horses had fled, and Tristan dismounted to help his flabbergasted men to their feet. They continued on foot to the inn. On this occasion, each man was allowed a mug of wine to calm shaken nerves. An hour later, the two missing men and the stranger walked into the inn. The horses had been retrieved no worse for wear, and the men had taken a grievous wound to their pride but were otherwise uninjured.

The two missing men took their seats next to their comrades and the stranger stood beside the table and said, "I do apologize for the misunderstanding, but men in uniforms such as yours have brought nothing but trouble and heartache to this village. But your leader here seems to be a responsible young man and for his sake I will trouble you no further. I wish all members of your Order could be as he is. Learn well by his example."

After the stranger retreated from the inn, one of the men leaned in and asked, "what was that all about?"

"That," said Tristan, "was one of the Brethren and his unicorn rising up to defend the defenseless."

"The Brethren?" asked the confused recruit, "I thought they were a myth or part of the Order or something. Was that a real unicorn?"

Tristan laughed and said, "the Brethren exist, if not in as great a number as they once did, and they must often go about in secrecy. They are honorable, but in these uncertain times have taken to hiding their identities and have perhaps become too quick to challenge those they think are oppressing the innocent. He was simply trying to protect the people of this village. They have been greatly abused by others in uniforms similar to yours. You would do well to remember what kind of an example others have set before you in the name of the Order. What kind of a name do you want to leave for yourselves? I would have you leave a good example and have your purpose be to defend the defenseless, not to parade around in all your ill-gotten glory taking advantage of the less fortunate as others have done. Perhaps then receptions like this will be a thing of the past and you will be welcomed as heroes. And yes, that was a real unicorn. You seldom see them anymore, though this one showed his true form to scare off your horses. They are as shy as the Brethren. Perhaps your next sighting will not be in fear, and you can truly appreciate how majestic they are."

The men calmed a bit with his explanation of things and began to discuss the events of the night. They were alone in the inn except for the innkeeper, as all the locals had been warned of their presence and sought shelter at home. It had been a long day and they happily sought their beds. For once, they were actually staying at an inn and sleeping in real beds. Tomorrow was to be a day with nothing scheduled and they could rest or do as they pleased. They were sleeping three men to a room though Tristan had a room to himself. Some time in the early hours of the morning, a figure crawled in the open window of Tristan's room and shut it silently behind him. He drew the heavy curtains shut and lit the lamp.

"You certainly pick an odd time for conversations Raul," said Tristan sleepily from the bed, "you could have come earlier in the evening or later in the morning."

"I assumed you would rather not have anyone know that we have had more than a passing conversation so I had to wait until everyone in the entire village was asleep," said Raul.

"It is good to see you," said Tristan, "you are probably wondering why I am riding with this outfit."

"That had crossed my mind," said Raul, "as usually the interests of the Brethren and the Order have little in common."

"Well, it is the interests of the Order that interest the Lady," said Tristan, "I am the lucky fellow she chose to infiltrate their organization and this is where I ended up: on the edge of civilization trying to turn six farm boys into soldiers. I still do not have any idea how this will end, but such is my mission. What about you?"

"I am spending most of my time chasing evil things back across the border and trying to keep bandits and people like you from taking advantage of the locals under my charge," said Raul, "the beastly things we are used to seeing deep within the Wilds are now lurking on its very borders. Evil is stirring and we will be hard pressed to turn it back if it makes a concerted effort." This was grave news, but not surprising. Evil seemed to be abroad and growing all over the world, civilized or not. Something was brewing and only time would tell what. They talked well into the night and the sun was starting to rise before Raul crept silently out into the misty morning. It had been good to see one of the Brethren, if only briefly. Tristan could not understand how Raul could look at him and the mare without noticing who and what they were. The Brethren had the ability to discern one another by sight. Perhaps he had not been expecting to find a Brother in the ranks of the Order and so had not been looking for one. Whatever the reason, it was time he had some sleep; it would be several hours before any of the others were abroad.

### Chapter 4

Two hours of sleep was hardly enough to get by on, but it might draw suspicion if he slept too long. He walked into the common room and found all but one of his men eating breakfast. The other came in shortly thereafter. It had been awhile since anyone had had much free time and there was some spirited discussion as to the proper use of the day. First, they had to see to getting more supplies, tending their horses, and repairing or replacing any damaged or lost equipment. The villagers eyed the intruders skeptically but were happy to take their money in exchange for goods and services. Several of the older girls looked with longing eyes at the soldiers as they went about their business, but Tristan or their fathers chased them away before they could do more than look. Word had spread that these soldiers were not as bad as the usual members of their Order, and soon a banquet was organized in their honor. In anticipation of the festivities, the men bathed for the first time in weeks, much to everyone's relief. That evening there was much food, fun, and music. But it was early to bed, as they must leave very early the next morning.

They had been on the trail two days when they came upon a small cottage on the edge of the woods. A woman sat out front crying. Tristan dismounted and approached the sobbing woman. At first, she looked as if she would flee at sight of his uniform, but something in his face or manner stayed her flight. "Why do you cry lady?" asked Tristan.

"My daughter went looking for a strayed cow three days ago and nothing has been seen of her since," she said, "I am afraid some evil has befallen her. I would go after her but I must stay here with my younger children and my husband is abroad on business."

"We will go after your daughter if you will give us her name, description, and the direction she went," said Tristan. The woman smiled through her tears and complied with his request. Tristan explained the situation to his men and some smiled at the thought of rescuing a damsel in distress while others rolled their eyes at wasting their time chasing lost girls and wandering cows. They divided into two parties, one led by Tristan and the other by a large, but capable man called Bristol. The girl's tracks were fairly obvious at first but as they climbed towards rockier ground they became at first faint and then nonexistent. Tristan knew the dangers of the Wildlands, especially for a girl abroad alone at night.

There were a few peasants who dared the Wilds in hopes of finding freedom from the oppression of the ruling class, but they traded oppression for constant danger. They were free from any ruler, but they also had no one to defend them in times of trouble. Small villages of such pioneers were much safer than those who dared live alone, but each man chose as he pleased. At the point where the tracks vanished, the trail forked and Tristan's party went left and Bristol's went right. They were to meet back at the fork in two hours. If nothing had been found they would discuss where to proceed from there. Tristan's party followed their branch of trail which led them out into a small village, but no one there had seen or heard anything about either a girl or a cow. No tracks or trails had led off from the main path and it was unlikely the girl would turn off on her own with no sign of the wandering cow, and a wandering cow should leave some sign of broken branches or crushed vegetation. They turned around and headed back to the rendezvous point.

Bristol's men followed their trail which twisted and wound its way ever upwards into a very rocky and hilly region where nothing grew but sparse grass and such weeds as are found in barren and forgotten lands. The horses smelled something that made them uneasy but they went forward with some encouragement from their riders' boot heels. Along the way, one of the sharper-eyed members of the party had noticed a track here or a bit of broken branch there. They seemed to be on the right trail at least. As the trail crested a steep ridge, they saw much broken brush and many displaced stones, and following the trail with their eyes saw that at the bottom of the steep bank there were signs of a struggle and much blood. They carefully led their horses down the bank and examined the area. It appeared that a large animal, possibly the lost cow, had fallen down the bank, thrashed around, and then was drug away. But what could drag away a full grown cow and how did the girl fit into all of this? They had no choice but to follow the trail and see where it led. The trail was obvious and they had covered nearly three miles before they reached the end. Every so often, a large, birdlike track appeared and the men eyed each other nervously. The trail led over a small hill and as they topped it, they heard the sound of a child's singing. They exchanged confused looks but continued to the source of the sound. It came from the depths of a cave, outside lay the half-eaten carcass of a roan cow.

"Tabitha?" called Bristol at the mouth of the cave.

"Yes?" came the voice of a young girl.

"Are you well?" called Bristol.

"I am very well," said the girl as she appeared at the mouth of the cave. "Who are you?" she asked.

"We are travelers in this forsaken land and we came upon your crying mother," said Bristol, "she asked us to find you and bring you home if we could find you. Why do you tarry here in this barren wasteland when your cow is obviously beyond repair and your mother despairs of ever seeing you again?"

A look of sadness crossed her face and she said, "I did not mean to trouble my mother, but Nargath has asked me to stay for awhile. He likes my singing and says he will take good care of me. Our poor cow was frightened by Nargath, and fell down the bank and broke her leg. He put the poor old thing out of her misery and has made a meal of her."

The soldiers exchanged another confused glance and Bristol said, "who is Nargath?"

"I am Nargath," echoed a voice from above the cave. All looked up into the glowing red eyes of a dragon; the men as well as the horses froze with terror. "Who are you?" rumbled the vast creature. "And why do you trouble my poor little bird?"

"We are travelers in this strange land and her mother sent us to find her," said Bristol nervously.

"She is not lost," growled the dragon, "she is a comfort to me in these comfortless times. She will stay where she is until I decide to send her away."

"But her mother weeps for her return," said Bristol.

"She will get over it eventually, besides she has other children and she knows the risks of living in the Wilds. The child is mine," said the dragon. He continued, "and by the look of you, you are not just simple travelers but some sort of soldiers or mercenaries. I also think you are of that despicable brood that dares to call itself the Order of the Unicorn. As if they have even seen a real unicorn, let alone The Unicorn, bah! But it is odd that such as yourselves would stoop to take notice of a weeping woman in need. Perhaps you are not as self-important and greedy as most of that lot? Therefore, I will not destroy you immediately and I will even give you a chance to prove to me that there is some reason I should let you live."

"Sir," said Bristol in terror, "allow one of my men to ride back and find our leader and he will treat with you. A month ago, we were but simple farm boys and he has taken us on this journey to make us men. He has the knowledge and wisdom to answer your questions."

"Well spoken," said the dragon, "I grant your request, but be quick about it. Meanwhile, my little bird will sing for us." Bristol chose one of the men to ride back and find the others while the rest sat down and prepared to wait. As he rode away, the little girl began to sing a cheerful song that sounded eerie and wrong in that empty land.

He rode swiftly and arrived at the meeting place as quickly as he could. "A dragon!" said Tristan upon hearing the news, "what color was he?"

"Green," said the man.

"At least he was not black or red," said Tristan, "black dragons are as evil as they come and a red dragon is not necessarily evil but they are short-tempered at best. At least a green dragon may be willing to negotiate. They love philosophy, music, and literature. There is nothing they would rather do than talk for hours on end. Some of them are evil, but the majority of them are peaceful creatures more interested in their own affairs than bothering about the rest of the world. We had better go quickly." With that they rode off as fast as the horses could go over climbing, rocky ground. They arrived sooner than the dragon expected and had to wait until the girl finished her current song.

"Thank you little one that will do for now, go take a nap in the cave while I talk to these gentlemen," said the dragon. The girl nodded sleepily and disappeared into the cave. That explains much thought Tristan to himself; no wonder he did not want to let the girl go home. He probably enjoyed her company and songs as a bedridden invalid enjoys a caged bird. This could be difficult. "Ah, the mighty leader himself," laughed the dragon, "now we shall strenuously negotiate for several days; I will keep the girl and may destroy you for the fun of it, but come let us see what you have to say first. It is long since I had a worthy opponent." Tristan hoped he was being sarcastic, but nothing he had ever read mentioned sarcasm as a draconian trait.

"Now these boys tell me that you are here to free my precious little bird," said the dragon. "I caught her and she is mine, and if you must take her by force you will soon learn that seven horsemen are of little consequence to a dragon of my size and age." He was right; he was a massive beast therefore he was very, very old which meant piercing his scaled hide would be like trying to pierce a paving stone with a willow wand. Force was pointless. Even the unicorn's horn would only dent his hide and she would not attack a dragon unless it was on the very brink of eating her, which seemed unlikely at this juncture. Negotiation would have to do, and something in the dragon's voice and manner suggested he was dying for a rousing debate.

"True you caught her," said Tristan, "but does that truly make her yours?"

The dragon looked hopefully at him and his eyes twinkled as if to say 'this is going to be fun.'

"You state that, 'I caught her and she is mine,' but," continued Tristan, "you fail to recognize that the Common Law stipulates that, 'no sapient creature shall be held against its will by any other sapient creature not recognized as its rightful guardian unless deemed necessary for the safety of the creature in question or for the safety of other creatures impacted by said creature, as judged by an objective party.' I am sorry to mention that you do not qualify as an objective party. I am neither guardian nor relative to this child. I was sent on an errand by her mother but otherwise have no relation to her whatsoever, and I do not benefit or suffer either by returning her to her mother or by riding off forever and leaving her to her present fate. Therefore, I judge that she should be released to the custody of my men and I for safe return to her parents."

"Very good," laughed the dragon, "except that I perhaps do not recognize the Common Law as binding. It is all very well for peasants and kings but what has it to do with me?"

"You deny the authority of the Master?" asked Tristan.

"No," growled the dragon.

"Then you must abide by the Common Law or be found either a liar or a criminal; the Common Law was given to us by the Master himself as a guide on how to live peaceably with our fellow thinking creatures. You may deny the Master exists, deny the veracity of his Laws, or fail to abide by the Laws but you cannot logically acknowledge the Master's authority and act contradictory to his Laws without becoming a criminal or a liar. Are you either?"

"No," growled the dragon. This was not going exactly as he had hoped.

"Then you must surrender the girl," said Tristan.

"But the Law states, 'except for the safety of the creature,' what if the girl is safer here than at home?" asked the dragon hopefully.

"She is in danger anywhere in these forsaken lands," said Tristan, "besides, you may crush her in your sleep as easily as she may break her neck falling out of her own bed at home. That clause is meant for creatures that pose a danger to themselves and need to be restrained to prevent harm from befalling them. This girl is no danger to herself, at least no more than any growing child is."

"You may claim to be an objective party," snarled the dragon who was very unhappy with the way things were going, "but how do I know that you do not have some sort of hidden connection or agenda. I claim the right to appeal."

"You are allowed to appeal your case before the Master himself if possible, which is highly unlikely in these later years, or to one of his representatives, namely the Brethren," said Tristan.

"Yes," smiled the dragon, "and since the Brethren seem few and far between and it may be years before we can find one to rightly judge between us I get to keep the girl. Feel free to apply to Astoria for help; you may hear back before you die of old age."

"But," said Tristan triumphantly, "there is no reason to apply to Astoria."

"You mean," asked the dragon, staring suspiciously at Tristan and then glancing back at his patiently waiting men who were well out of earshot, "you are one of the Brethren? I thought they went about on unicorns, not to mention that your choice of companions is quite odd."

The mare made a growling noise or as close to a growling noise as a horse can make, and the dragon eyed her strangely. Addressing the mare he said, "you mean you are a unicorn?" She nodded. He inclined his head in a sort of bow, "forgive me madam for not greeting you appropriately upon our first meeting. This little disguise of yours is quite ingenious and I have not heard of it before. No wonder I have not seen any of the Brethren in many years. Perhaps I should pay a visit to your Lady. It has been a very long time." The mare seemed placated and made a bow herself, though awkward with a rider on her back. "I deem my case fairly judged and will take the girl back myself, though I would still like visiting privileges," said the dragon.

"Fair enough," said Tristan, "though you will have to work that out with her parents. I cannot imagine they would mind, especially if you offer to help protect their home from the evil things that frequent these borderlands." The dragon seemed pleased with the whole affair, excused himself, and taking the girl tromped off towards her home. Tristan gathered his men and had them set up an early camp as the dragon had politely asked them to stay for supper, and no one in his right mind said 'no' to such a request from something that could easily eat you for supper.

The men were nervous about pitching camp so near the dragon, but they trusted Tristan's judgment and feared angering their reptilian host so they quickly complied. The dragon returned carrying a couple of struggling deer, which were quickly dispatched, butchered, and cooked over a roaring fire. Fresh meat was a welcome addition to their diet as they had been living on salted or dried meat for far too long. Over the course of the night, the dragon and Tristan talked much. Each was ravenous for good conversation and each had a keen mind, a wealth of knowledge to share, and many questions to ask. The men kept to their camp for the most part, but occasionally one would join the conversation for a brief period before retreating to the more mundane business of sleeping, cooking, or cleaning equipment. The conversation between their leader and the dragon was on such a level as to intimidate even the brightest of the group. It was late in the night before Tristan said he must get some sleep. The dragon insisted they stay for at least another night and that perhaps they would learn much to their advantage. Tristan agreed and sought his blankets.

The next morning after a breakfast of leftover venison, Tristan used the treeless moors upon which they found themselves to great advantage. The better part of the morning was spent in drilling his men in the basics of cavalry formations, attack, and defense. When he thought they had it down well enough not to accidentally kill each other, he had Bristol lead them in drills throughout the rest of the day while he resumed his talks with Nargath. The dragon had much to say on the Wildlands and the mysterious lands beyond, on the Order of the Unicorn, and on the evil that seemed to be stirring throughout the world. Nargath promised to visit the Lady and to let his fellow dragons (at least those friendly towards other creatures) know about recent events and to be on their guard and assist as they could. They spent another night in the cheerless hill country next to the dragon's lair. The dragon and Tristan talked long into the night, but after a day of such activity all the men except the watchman went straight to bed. Tristan snuck into his covers long after midnight. The morning came far too early, as is ever its wont. They bid farewell to their host who even now was off on his own business as they were embarking on theirs. They mounted their horses and headed back towards the woods and further adventures.

### Chapter 5

Another two weeks passed without Tristan able to make much more of a note in his logbook than the various exercises and practice sessions through which he led his men. It was a very peaceful interlude in their nearly three-month journey, but it would not last. Peace never lasted in these unquiet lands especially during troubled times. One evening, as they were scouting for a campsite they came upon a caravan of gypsies with their wagons parked in the middle of the path. The mare gave a shrill cry of battle and before Tristan knew what had happened she was charging into the fray. Vicious creatures (resembling apes but with a leathery hide and hideous faces) were ransacking the wagons and terrorizing the hapless gypsies.

"Goblins," snarled Tristan, "Bristol's group, use your bows, the rest of you draw your swords and follow me. Have no mercy on these fiendish things." The men did as they were told and half of them used their arrows to kill the things on the wagons while the rest slew or chased off the foul creatures near the prisoners. The mare wanted to chase after those that had fled but Tristan checked her; she hated goblins with a passion, she had run afoul of them as a foal. The freed gypsies quickly clumped together, hugging and crying, through mingled tears and laughter they found that everyone was all right. Tristan's men had come upon them in time; if they could, goblins liked nothing better than to terrorize their victims before they killed them. They had only just attacked the caravan and had been surprised by the sudden onslaught of the soldiers.

After retrieving what arrows they could in the failing light, Tristan's men assembled around their leader. "Well done, all of you," said Tristan, "you kept your heads and did your jobs during an unexpected encounter. This is what you have been training for. I am very proud of each of you. Though we did surprise and overwhelm them, it was very well done for a first battle." The men smiled appreciatively. It had been good to see their leader in battle, though they had hardly had time to do anything but pay attention to what they were doing themselves, but the glimpses they had seen of him showed that he really did know what he was talking about. They were all glad he was on their side.

The gypsies were delighted with their rescuers and insisted they spend at least a night with them. Tristan agreed. There is nothing more boisterous than a caravan of excited gypsies and this was no exception; they received quite a thank you for their assistance. The next morning, Tristan opted to travel with the caravan which was headed in vaguely the same direction as they and a little practice riding escort would not hurt his men. For nearly a week, they traveled with the gypsies and as the goblins had been driven off and left far behind he felt it safe to leave their new friends. It was also time they headed back upon their original course. The gypsies bid them farewell as fondly as they had received them. There was no sadness for them in parting, only the joy of having met and the hope of future meetings. Tristan would miss these open and joyous people. Reluctantly he turned his mare and followed his retreating men.

They rode on for another few days without incident and camped that night by a small waterfall that babbled gaily off into the darkness over a bed of colorful stones. Here he meant to stay for a day to rest and check their equipment and supplies. If he remembered correctly, there was a village a day's ride from here where they could restock. As they did not have to leave immediately in the morning, Tristan felt he could stay up a little later than usual tonight. It was time he got to know his men a little better. Until now, he wanted to remain simply their leader and did not want them feeling all warm and friendly until he had established himself as such. Even now, he did not want them to feel that he was their friend and equal, but he did want them to know that he cared for them and was interested in them as people. They were equally as interested in knowing more of Tristan. They had seen and heard much on this journey and had many questions. They had never met one so seemingly young with so much knowledge, confidence, and skill. His tale to them was simple: he was orphaned as a boy and turned to theft to survive. He had been caught and sentenced to work to death in a mining camp, but a man had taken pity upon him and took him into his service and the service of his Lady. Under the tutelage of that man, his Lady, and others of their acquaintance, he had learned much, traveled many places, and fought many battles. He had joined the Order in a hope to pass on the kindness, knowledge, and leadership he had received at the hands of strangers.

His men were mostly farmers' sons, often the second or third son who stood to inherit little upon their father's death and so had chosen to find employment elsewhere rather than spend a lifetime working for an older brother. They had come from all parts of the known world and most had hired themselves out as guards for traveling merchant caravans or as bully boys at raucous inns, and had come to learn a little of fighting and warfare, or at least enough to be of interest to the Order. They had signed up in hopes of gaining riches and renown; something they never would have found on their own. They were far from indoctrinated in the main tenets of the Order, but knew enough to wonder at certain things they had observed on their journey.

"Sir," asked Bristol, "how is it that you do not seem to live up to the better known doctrines of the Order? No offense, it is not a bad thing, I am just wondering."

"Which particular doctrine are you speaking of?" asked Tristan gently.

"All that about the peasants being poor because the Master looks upon them with disdain, and the rich being rich because they are better than everyone else and that justifies them taking advantage where they will," answered Bristol.

"One reason I am here is to change that sort of thinking from the bottom up," said Tristan, "that sort of thinking only leads one group to oppress another. The Master created everyone to be worthy of love, respect, and honor. He does not love the rich above the poor. He loves all the same, though he has a special place in his heart for the poor, the suffering, and the oppressed. He gave his own blood to stop the suffering and oppression that would engulf his people if he had stood by and done nothing. It is man who inflicts pain and suffering on his fellow men. The Master hates it, but it is up to us to stop or prevent it. I think the strong should protect the weak, not prey upon them. The Order can be a phenomenal force for good if it is directed upon the right course. It is people like me and each of you that can change their way of thinking if we stay true to our ideals." The men looked at him in some surprise, as if he were speaking of fairy tales as realities. They had spent their entire lives under the assumption that the Master was a myth, absent, unloving, or uninterested in them.

"You really believe all that about the Master?" asked Bristol in a quavering voice. He felt as if the man he secretly respected as much as his father had just said he was taking orders from a talking tree.

"I do," answered Tristan, "it took much time and thought on my part, but eventually I realized the truth of it. Think about it. The Order says that the common people are unworthy of respect or love, yet in all of our adventures what have you discovered about these villagers, farmers, and gypsies? You have discovered that they are people just like you with dreams and fears, laughter and tears, triumphs and trials. You are the sons of farmers, you are also considered 'the common people' by the elite of the Order, but by joining this outfit you may one day become elite yourselves. Although you are still of the common stock, they will not view you as such, though you are still the same people. The view that all people are worth something is more supportive of the Master's point of view than that of the Order, but you need to make your own decisions about that sort of thing. I only hope my actions give you something else to think about than the mindless doctrine the Order will throw at you and expects you to take unquestioned. Weigh the facts and then decide." A long silence followed and then all sought their beds. There were no more questions that night.

The next morning was spent checking equipment and supplies, washing clothes, and repairing what could be mended on the trail. The next day's ride would bring them to a village that had a blacksmith (at least in previous days) who could attend to their horses' needs as well as a chance to stock up on much-needed supplies and news. There was little conversation about the other night's chat but there was much thinking and rethinking going on in the minds of Tristan's men. He hoped he had not completely lost their confidence or distracted them; they still had a very long way to go. That afternoon they rode to the edge of the village but an aura of fear hung about the place and no one stirred out of doors.

Curious, Tristan motioned for his men to hide themselves in a copse of trees on the edge of town. Taking one of the younger men, both exchanged their uniforms for plain clothing and covered their swords with their cloaks. Leaving Bristol in charge, they headed into town leading their horses. They secured their horses at the hitching post outside the inn and went inside. Inside, the nervous-looking innkeeper appeared busy wiping down mugs except that he seemed to be wiping the same few mugs repeatedly. He glanced up in surprise when the two strangers entered, glanced furtively at four men at a corner table in quiet discussion, and went back to his wiping.

"Good day to you sir," said Tristan approaching the bar.

"Goo...good...day," said the very nervous innkeeper. "I am sorry to trouble you but we are closed," he continued.

"Closed?" asked Tristan in mock dismay, "but why?"

"We have had a rough time lately and have been rescued from it by those fine gentlemen over there and their friends," said the innkeeper, "and to protect us from further troubles they have asked that no one do business except through them. To protect us and all that sort of thing. They do not want us to be taken advantage of again."

"I see," said Tristan, "so if one is to get a mug of wine or a loaf of bread I must talk to the gentlemen in the corner?" The innkeeper nodded in horror as Tristan approached the seated men.

"Good day gentlemen," said Tristan. "I am sorry to interrupt your conversation, but my friend and I are hungry and tired and wish to do a bit of business in this fine hamlet of yours but apparently we must bother you to be about it." The men looked at Tristan in amazement as if they could not believe his audacity or stupidity in confronting them.

"Be on your way," snarled one badly scarred man. "This is our town and if you know what is best for you, you will be on your way immediately." He returned to his conversation. Tristan cued the young soldier with him to make as if they would go out the back door and he eyed the innkeeper, hoping he would take the hint and follow when he could. Tristan headed for the back door, opened it, slipped out, and waited patiently until the innkeeper could follow without raising suspicion.

"Tristan said, "what is going on in this town?"

The innkeeper eyed the two strangers nervously, and hoped he was not making a terrible mistake. "About two weeks ago a band of brigands rode in and declared our town belonged to them and they would be taking by force (if necessary) anything they claimed belonged to them. For the most part, things have been peaceful, but no one dares go outside unless absolutely necessary and the bandits take whatever they want without paying. There have even been rumors that a few of the local girls have had 'encounters' with these brutes. We are not soldiers and there is no local authority we can turn to for help. They will kill us as soon as look at us, but for now we seem to be supplying them with what they want, but I fear what will happen when our supplies of food, ale, and wine run out."

"Where are the rest of these louts?" asked Tristan.

"They are holed up around and within the village," said the innkeeper, "half sleep in my inn; the rest sleep in twos and threes in various homes around town."

"Is there a time they are ever all together?" asked Tristan.

"They get together each evening at the inn for supper and drinking," said the innkeeper.

"Do they have any sort of watch or patrol?" asked Tristan.

"Two or three walk around the village and surrounding farms a couple times a day, usually at dawn, noon, and dusk. Mostly they just hassle people who are trying to go about their business. I do not think they would see anything coming unless it sat in their laps. They are quite happy and content and feel quite unthreatened. They should, we hardly ever see outsiders and if we do they are never willing to give us a hand," finished the innkeeper.

"We may be able to help you but you need to get the bandits as drunk as possible tonight. Around midnight we will see what we can do with two dozen drunk brigands," said Tristan. The innkeeper nodded his reluctant but hopeful agreement.

As he went back in the door he yelled, "you were told to leave and you would leave now if you knew what is good for you. Do not come looking for handouts at my inn again." The four men looked at the innkeeper and smirked at his trivial show of hostility. It was the bravest thing they had ever seen him do. They returned to their conversation.

Tristan and Bristol scouted around the village and surrounding farms but found no sign of a watch or sentry being kept. As evening approached, two bandits were seen making a minimal round of the area and then quickly ducking into the inn for supper and ale. A careful count was taken and fifteen bandits were confirmed to be inside the inn. After several hours of feasting, drinking, and bawdy singing the bandits began to think fondly of their beds. It was at this point that Tristan and his men appeared at the doors, windows, and the upstairs balcony. The innkeeper and serving maids had retreated at the appointed time and left no one but Tristan's men and the bandits in the inn's common room. The bandits could see seven men, each armed with bow and sword. Every bow had an arrow nocked and ready to fly.

"You are surrounded," said Tristan, "lay down your weapons and put your hands on your heads. Failure to comply will result in the use of lethal force. You are hereby accused of robbery, piracy, hostage taking, and threatening murder. Surrender and each of you will be judged fairly, according to your crimes. Resist and your survival is not guaranteed."

Half the bandits complied immediately; the rest scrambled for cover or tried to find a usable weapon. Four fell as they ran with arrows in their backs. Seven stood with hands on their heads looking anxiously for rescue from the surrounding madness. Four hid themselves in various corners, under tables, or behind the bar.

"You are surrounded," said Tristan, "you must surrender now or you will not walk away from this." He counted to thirty but the hiding men remained hidden. He nodded towards the three men in the balcony; they would cover the other four as they tried to root out the hidden thieves. Two of his men covered the front door and windows; Bristol watched the back door and Tristan cautiously began to move among the overturned tables and chairs. A short, ugly man jumped out from behind an overturned table with a dagger and tried to plunge it into Tristan's heart but his sword was out and stopped the bandit in mid-flight. An arrow from above took a second bandit who tried to jump Tristan from behind while facing the ugly man with the dagger. A third bandit, armed with a table leg tried to club down Bristol as he fled towards the backdoor; Bristol's sword stopped his headlong flight. The fourth and final bandit crept out from behind the bar with his hands on his head begging for mercy; he was allowed to join the seven others who had given up.

A trial was set for the next morning. The villagers confirmed that all had been captured or killed. They were tied up and locked in the wine cellar for the night; guards were posted at the only door. The next morning the surviving bandits, the villagers, and Tristan's men gathered on the village green for the trial. Tristan, the mayor, and the blacksmith formed the tribunal. Each thief was brought forward individually and none was allowed to listen to the trial of any other thief though they watched mournfully from a distance. As it turned out, the worst of the thieves had died the previous night; the surviving eight were the younger and less hardened men in the group. Tristan hoped fervently that there was still a future for these misguided young men. Each was accused in turn of theft, piracy, and taking the village hostage, but in light of their surrender and cooperation the tribunal did not feel death was warranted. But what to do with eight bandits? If left in the village to work off their crimes they could rise-up together and revolt against the villagers. The nearest city with a proper prison or work camp was too far away. Prison or a work camp would kill them or harden them into real criminals. In his conversations with them during the trial, Tristan discovered them to be as he once was: misguided and desperate. He longed to send them back to Astoria where they could be given a second chance if they were willing to take it, and there they could be safely watched and kept away from innocent bystanders if they chose otherwise. A black shadow passed over the village. A woman screamed and fainted dead away. Several people fled into their homes and barred the door behind them. Confusion ensued on the green.

A small green dragon landed in the middle of the village and looked curiously at the people running about like ants in a scattered hill. "Tristan?" hissed the young dragon.

"That is my name," said Tristan.

"Nargath flew by the other day and mentioned he had talked with you. It has been long since any man has interacted so freely with my kind; most simply wish to kill us as monsters or flee before us as terrors. I was curious, so I sought you out. I am called Fleet"

"Nice to meet you, but you seem to have startled quite a few people," said Tristan, "would you mind flying off momentarily while I try to restore order?"

"Of course," said Fleet. He took off and Tristan quickly explained things to the panicked villagers. Fleet returned soon after and again landed on the green where he was introduced to the Mayor and the Blacksmith.

"We have a strange request to make of you sir," stuttered the mayor. The dragon cocked his head in interest.

"Would you mind ferrying these men to Astoria?" asked Tristan, "I know your kind does not usually carry men on their backs, but these men have caused much trouble and we have vital business elsewhere that will not allow us to escort them ourselves. We would be forced to put them to death, though warranted by their crimes we feel they deserve another chance. The Lady will see that they get it. It would be a great favor to us."

"For any other I might hesitate, but I would like to meet this Lady of yours and Nargath speaks highly of you. I will do as you ask," said Fleet.

Fleet could carry four terrified men at a time and it took half a day to fly to Astoria and back thus it was well past dark by the time he returned from his final journey.

"Thank you my friend," said Tristan, "we are greatly in your debt."

"It was an honor for me to meet you and the Lady. I look forward to speaking with her tomorrow; she sends her greetings and wishes you well on your quest. Though for some reason she found your idea to send her such guests highly amusing." That night they had a celebratory feast with enough food to sate even the dragon's monstrous appetite. In the morning, Tristan spent a great deal of time talking with Fleet while his men restocked their supplies. In the early afternoon, they parted. The dragon left for his meeting with the Lady, and the villagers began to reassemble their lives. Tristan's company headed towards their final destination. It had been a long, strange journey but their greatest test lay at its end: the Challenge.

### Chapter 6

The Challenge was held every three months after the new recruits from the current recruiting cycle had spent their time training along the borders of civilization. At the Challenge, each unit would be paired with a different unit and they would compete in archery, equitation, fencing, hand-to-hand combat, and fighting from horseback. The winner of each set would then be paired with another winning unit and would then repeat the competitions; the winner would go on and the losers would withdraw from the competition. This was repeated until one unit was declared the winner. No one knew what the victors received as a prize. The Challenge was meant to test their skills as well as to sharpen them. Tristan's group arrived several days ahead of the Challenge date, but this was planned to give the men time to rest and prepare for the event. Each unit was granted the use of a gaily-colored pavilion equipped with cots and a few other amenities as the whole event could take from several days to weeks, depending on how many units were competing. Each unit would compete only once a day, and the judges would be senior officers within the Order. The leader of the unit would not compete with his men, but there was a separate Challenge in which the unit leaders competed against each other. Each unit leader had also kept a logbook of their unit's adventures, training, and encounters along the way; these were also used in judging the outcome of the Challenge. The weapons used were fake, but could still inflict quite a sting if not blocked or dodged. Tristan felt his men well-prepared for the Challenge though he wondered what the Order would think of his logbook.

The morning of the Challenge dawned clear and cold; the men gathered early for warm-up exercises and roll-call. Everyone looked sharp in their new uniforms; the uniforms they had worn on campaign could hardly be recognized as such. The pairings were announced and five pairs each moved to a different area to begin their first Challenge. The archery and equitation were individual competitions with a score being given and the team acquiring a cumulative score in that area for the day. The other three areas were competitions between members of opposing units matched up by age, experience, and build. After a unit finished its five competition areas for the day they could rest, practice, or observe as they wished. The winners of each pairing were declared after everyone had finished for the day and the losers were excused from the competition and the winners were given a new opponent for the following day. At night there were talks given by high-ranking officials within the Order on a myriad of topics, most interesting only to the presenter. Afterwards, the losing teams indulged in a variety of fermented beverages but those who still had to compete refrained, at least officially. After the first few days winnowed out the majority of the units, the unit leaders' Challenge began. Theirs was similar to the unit Challenge except they competed as individuals rather than as a team. Tristan's team competed well the first day and won their first Challenge with no doubt as to their success. This pattern continued throughout the Challenge until the final day when they were paired with their last opponent for the concluding round of competition.

A wind blew cold from the North, dreary grey clouds hung low on the horizon, and a constant drizzle fell as the two units faced each other and bowed before beginning this final competition. The opposing unit was led by a man called Brisbane; he was a seasoned commander and had led many expeditions into the Wilds and was the favorite to win both the unit and leaders' competitions. He had done so five years running. He glared at Tristan and his men with his single eye; Tristan recognized him as the pompous windbag who had tried to lop off Pallin's head so many months ago in Astoria. Brisbane thought the young leader looked familiar somehow but could not place him. Tristan's team was thought to be the weakest of those assembled due to his lack of experience within the Order and his relative youth as a commander. But so far, they had exceeded everyone's expectations except Tristan's; he knew they were well-trained and ready to prove it. He was pleased with their progress. Brisbane's men were good, but his training methods were based on years of study and academic thought whereas Tristan's were based on years in the field; he knew what worked and what did not. Whereas Brisbane thought if it was taught in a military academy it was sacred. Tristan took what was useful and threw out or modified that which was not. While Brisbane's men were well-trained in basic military theory and thought, and trained in field tactics later, Tristan's were well-versed in the more practical side of things and acquired a military mindset almost by default.

As the competition progressed, Tristan's men drew ahead slightly in each round until the final trial which would be a six-on-six fight in the saddle. The last man in the saddle would win the round and likely the Challenge. The two lines of horsemen faced each other, the trumpet sounded, and they charged. One of Tristan's men was unhorsed immediately. Two of Brisbane's men fell next. Another of Tristan's men fell. Another of Brisbane's men was down. One of Tristan's men and one of Brisbane's unseated each other. A horse stumbled on the uneven ground and one of Tristan's men was thrown from his saddle. Bristol faced off against the second-in-command of Brisbane's unit. With a roar, the man dug his heels into his horse's flanks and charged Bristol. Bristol pulled his horse up short, pulling alongside the charging man, and pushed him out of his saddle. Bristol won the day. The unhorsed man grabbed his wooden sword and charged the stunned Bristol on foot. Bristol cantered his horse out of range of the enraged man and the judges quickly chased him off the field. As he was led away, he glared at Bristol and Tristan. It seemed Brisbane's training was not the only thing he passed along to his men.

The final round of the Unit Leaders' Challenge was also scheduled for that day. As it turned out, Tristan was to face off with Brisbane. The man glared at Tristan with his one good eye, not seeming to have improved at all in manners since their first meeting. Brisbane could not remember meeting Tristan but he knew he hated him. His rage was stoked even hotter by the fact that his unit had just lost to this no-name upstart from nowhere. He would show the world who the ultimate Knight of the Order was. They were evenly matched in archery and equitation, though Tristan pulled ahead in the equitation class because the mare knew almost before he did what to do and where to go. Tristan won the sword competiton, barely. Brisbane eked out a win in the hand-to-hand combat. The final match would be a battle on horseback. The mare reared and screamed in anticipation; she loved a good fight. Brisbane's stallion screamed back in challenge at the strange mare who acted like a stud. The trumpet blew and they charged. There were many near misses. The war-trained stallion tried to bite and kick at the mare and her rider (though this was strictly forbidden in the rules) and his master would not check him. The mare was quick and agile, avoiding the worst of his violence; her rider did the same. Brisbane lashed out as one trying to fell a tree. Finally, the judges' horses pushed through the frenzy and drove the pair apart. Brisbane was disqualified for unnecessary violence and inattention to his horse's behavior. He glared murder at Tristan. They were not finished.

It was a feat unrivaled in the history of the Order; never had an underdog captain and his unit come out the victors in the Challenge. At first, everyone fell silent in amazement and then a raucous cheer rose from the assembled spectators. One by one, the officials and judges came forward and congratulated the stunned men. They had expected to do well but nothing like this! Eventually the noise and confusion died down and everyone was assembled into some semblance of order. Unit leaders and their men were reassigned based upon their performance during the Challenge and also upon the records kept by the unit leader. Men were assigned for further training, to serve in various open posts and positions wherever the Order held sway, or were assigned to new units that were being assembled for training or assignment. That night, a celebratory feast was held and then the highest-ranking member of the Order present gave an attempt at a rousing dismissal speech. Each man returned to his bed early for tomorrow they were to disperse before sunrise. The men said goodbye to their unit leaders and their comrades; it would be a long time before many of the men saw each other again. The orders for Tristan's unit were simply to report to Order headquarters in Panmycea five days hence.

The bugle call roused everyone from their beds and camp was broken quickly. Groups assembled heading in every direction possible. By noon, no one remained but Tristan and his men. It was a three-day ride to Panmycea, and he intended to let his men and horses rest a day before heading out. The men were happy to have at least a little more time together before they must part ways, but they knew it was coming. The next day they broke camp and rode leisurely for their assigned destination. Nothing of note happened upon their road, but each man enjoyed the presence of his comrades for what they knew might be the last time for many years to come. They had grown close as only men who have shared much time and danger together could. It would be a sad parting but the memories would be cherished and long-remembered. On the fourth day after the Challenge, they arrived in Panmycea, a city of no small size and subject to no one but the Order. A small company of men dressed in the uniform of the Order aroused no comment as they rode through the crowded streets. After so many months in the wilderness, such bustling streets were almost foreign to Tristan's men. They gawked about as if they had never seen a city street before.

They rode towards the towering Citadel in the center of the city. The gate lay open but was barred by stern looking Knights of the Order. Before he was allowed through, Tristan had to present his copy of his orders which were carefully scrutinized by the guards. A harsh order brought a scurrying clerk out of the guardhouse. A brief exchange brought the needed information and Tristan was told to take his men and report to the Master of the Stables who would see to their horses. Then they were to report to a Captain named Karly. They were waved through and did as they were bidden. The mare was very unhappy to be left to such a handler though she did her best to act as she thought a meek and normal horse would in such a circumstance; the effect looked much like a lion pretending to be a kitten, but it was the best she thought she could do. Tristan walked away muttering about the pride of certain unicorns. She pretended not to hear. A servant found them near the stables and led them deep into the castle where they soon found themselves in Captain Karly's chambers. They bowed formally in greeting.

"Welcome and well done," said Karly. "I have heard much of your unexpected victory, and my apologies to you, Tristan on the behavior of Brisbane during that final round. I am not sure what came over him but he will be disciplined for his lack of etiquette." Tristan inclined his head in thanks. "Now," Karly continued, "you are probably wondering why you are here. As tradition has it, the winners of each Challenge are invited to attend the Banquet of the High Council that routinely follows each Challenge. This is quite an honor for men of your standing within the Order. Only one hundred seats are available, and save for yourselves, only the highest ranking officers are allowed to attend. The banquet is tomorrow evening, and you will be given rooms in the Citadel until you are to leave for your next assignments. There will be much discussion given on the future plans of the Order at this meeting and you are hereby sworn to secrecy and silence. Nothing you hear shall be discussed with anyone else and you are not to speak during the meeting or the meal. Your presence is an honor but it is simply ceremonial. You will be severely punished if you do not comply with these requirements. Do you understand?" Each man nodded. "Good," he continued, "now go to your rooms and freshen up. I am sure you are weary after your journey." He bowed them out of the room and a servant led them to their quarters.

The men were billeted in a large room with six beds; Tristan had a small, comfortable room not far down the hall. Servants brought them their evening meal, a change of clothes, and warm water with which to cleanse themselves from the dust and sweat of travel. They talked and joked long into the night, simply enjoying one another's company. Tristan bid them goodnight and retired to his room. He had much to think about. The next morning, they were woken early by a servant for breakfast; the balance of the day they were free to wander about the city or idle in the famed Gardens of the Unicorn. They returned to the Citadel in time to clean-up and change for the Banquet. The servant ushered them into a little alcove in the far back of a large dining hall. They seated themselves around the small table and waited silently for the Banquet to begin. A servant brought them food and refilled their beverages, but not a word was said during the whole course of the meal. After dinner, the meeting began. Tristan listened intently for anything that might interest the Brethren or the Lady.

Most of the meeting was simple formality with the acknowledgement of various trivial matters whose course of action had already been long decided. A few crusty old officers stood up and gave long-winded speeches of no consequence to anyone but themselves. Finally, the Master of the High Council stood up to make his remarks. The already hushed audience grew even quieter; everyone in the room easily heard the snores of one ancient officer until he was roused from his slumber.

The Master of the Council began, "welcome and good evening to all of you. As you know, we have increased our recruiting efforts and are hoping to swell the ranks of the Order well beyond its current size over the next few years. It has been decided by the Council and senior officers that we must move forward with our plan to extend the functions of the Order from a simple group of independent peacekeepers to an organization that has much greater influence within each nation, independent village and city-state. We hope to gradually increase our influence to be at least equal with the local authorities if not superior to them. We are the cream of humanity's crop and our place is at the top of every nation, state, and village! No one is better suited to usher in this era of peace and harmony than the Order of the Unicorn..."

The speech was lost in uproarious applause. Once the assembly was quiet, he continued to outline his plan for accomplishing his goal of world domination. Currently advisors were being assigned to leaders in all parts of the world (such as Brisbane who failed to gain a foothold in Astoria). Eventually garrisons of men would be stationed in each state, country, and major village to 'encourage the peace' and 'uphold justice' and 'to assist the local authorities.'

They hoped to gradually increase the local number of troops under their control to such a point that the leader in question was forced to acknowledge their superiority and relinquish all law enforcement and military efforts to the Order, if not bowing completely to the will of the Order in all matters of state. First would come intimidation; once the weaker principalities were under Order control they could then move forward with military conquest if necessary. Of course, this plan would take decades to come to fruition, but it was well thought out and might work if the Order could only raise the necessary army. After the closing remarks, the servants ushered Tristan's unit out of the dining hall, as they were not allowed to mingle with the more important guests. Tristan's men were escorted back to their quarters to prepare for their departure to their new posts on the morrow. Tristan was taken to Captain Karly for a briefing on his next assignment. The servant escorted him to the door and bowed himself out.

"Yes, Tristan come in," said the Captain. "It seems I have the great honor of briefing you on your next assignment," he said sarcastically. He continued more genially, "I have been reviewing your logbook and performance records. Fascinating reading actually. Your men seem to have done remarkably well, even if your tactics were not exactly uh...traditional."

"Thank you sir, I think," said Tristan.

The Captain smiled at him a bit ironically, "yes, I think that counts as a compliment. Because of your success in the field and your particular background we have decided your next position will be as an Advisor to a rather peculiar leader." Tristan started to say he had never done anything like that before, but the Captain continued, "I know you do not have any sort of experience as an ambassador or royal advisor, but we will pair you up with an active Advisor for a few months before shipping you off to your assigned post. What really interests us is your interactions with one of these troublesome Brethren. You seem to have handled him rather nicely and seem to know more about the Brethren than most. We tried to get Brisbane to be the acting Advisor to this Lady of theirs some months ago, but that failed horribly. We have an Advisor in almost every major town, city-state, and country save Astoria. You seem a bright young man and are quick on your feet and a bit more, how should I say, charming, than Brisbane. Perhaps you will succeed where he failed, if only by being more polite around this Lady of theirs. You also grew up in the vicinity and perhaps you have even traveled there a time or two?"

He looked expectantly at Tristan who said, "yes, I have had the opportunity to pass through that strange city on several occasions. Are you sure this is something you think I can handle?"

"We will know that in a couple of months, but right now you are the best we have," said Karly, "now go back to your room and get some sleep; you will be leaving early to join Captain Lyre in Vespera. He is advisor to Queen Britna in the capital city of Lorna. Go say farewell to your men and rest well. We are asking much of you and failure cannot be an option." Tristan bowed formally and left the Captain's chambers where a servant met him and took him back to his quarters.

They spent much time that night in farewells, but obeying the Captain's order, Tristan went to bed as soon as he felt he could. Bristol was to go on the next recruitment drive and take a group of new recruits on their initiating tour of the borderlands. Two of the others were assigned to the Citadel for a couple of months as guards. Two others were taking posts in various militia units the Order had scattered about the world, and the final man was to act as secretary to one of the Generals making a tour of the Southern Kingdoms. They would be scattered throughout the known world. Tristan hoped he had made a positive impact in their lives, and that they would eventually find their way to knowing the Master. He wished them all the best and retired to his chambers.

The next morning he was wakened early by a servant and given a quick breakfast and a copy of his orders. He dressed and met one of the stable boys in the courtyard. Apparently, the mare would not let anyone saddle her. Tristan rolled his eyes and went to prepare his recalcitrant mount for their journey. Within an hour, they were again on their way into the great unknown. It was a journey of several days to Lorna in Vespera; the journey was by far too short. Nothing of note happened along the road save that the mare thoroughly enjoyed being out of her musty stall, and was far too frisky by Tristan's standards. She had been stalled between a flatulent gelding and a lovelorn stallion. The stallion was only encouraged by her signs of irritation rather than dismayed. Overall, she had had a miserable time. But it was part of her service to Tristan and the Brethren. She tried to bear it as patiently as she could; though at times she was not very patient at all.

### Chapter 7

Vespera was a small but beautiful country of rolling fields, open meadows, and scattered woodlands with many small lakes and winding rivers. Lorna was located in the center of the country and was a large city with a low wall running around its borders and a thriving community within. It was a prosperous and happy country by all accounts. Tristan rode reluctantly through the open gates and saw the look of disdain that crossed the faces of the guards as they noted his uniform, but no one hindered him as he rode towards the palace in the middle of the city. People bustled about in the streets, busy about their own business and there were only a few glares from those passersby that happened to notice him among the throng. The Order truly did have a bad reputation everywhere it seemed. He came to the outer wall of the palace and applied to the gate guards for Captain Lyre. A soldier was sent running and soon returned with confirmation that he was expected. He surrendered the irritated mare to the groom and followed the waiting soldier who was to take him to Lyre. Lyre met him just inside the main entrance to the palace; he bowed minimally and Tristan made a full bow in return. The soldier was dismissed and ran off to resume his post while Lyre and Tristan walked silently into the depths of the palace. Once they arrived at Lyre's private chambers, they could talk.

"I am not looking for an assistant," said Lyre immediately after closing the door to his rooms. "But then," he continued, "you are not here to assist but to observe and learn how a true Advisor should act." This made him smile haughtily and he seemed to warm to the idea. He continued, "after all, in a few months you will be off to that rebellious little city on the edge of nowhere. What did you do to get banished there? Well, never mind that, the High Council knows what it is about. While you are here your only job is to observe me and learn; you are learning from the best if I might say so myself. There is an advisor here from the Brethren, perhaps if you two talked a bit you might learn more about their insignificant city-state. We attend the Queen whenever she is holding court or otherwise involved in public affairs. We also have one half-hour every week during which she will listen to us privately. She may also call upon us for advice at any time on matters of state. If she requires information or advice, I will provide it. You do not speak unless asked a direct question by her Majesty or are directed to answer by me. She has the deepest respect for me and my wisdom; watch and learn well and one day you might gain such respect." He finished almost reverently, "now go tidy up, for the Queen is holding court this very evening and we are to attend."

Tristan bowed himself out and found a servant waiting outside the door who took him to a very small room just down the hall. Tristan wondered if they had remodeled a closet for his personal use. He found his saddlebags and gear laid out on the bed. He quickly cleaned-up and changed his travel worn clothes. Shortly, Lyre came by to collect him; he just walked in and did not bother with trivialities like knocking. This was going to be a lovely couple of months. Together they walked to the chamber where the Queen held court. Lyre insisted that Tristan walk a step or two behind; the whole way he regaled Tristan with accounts of his various triumphs throughout his long and glorious career. If they had not been walking, Tristan might have fallen asleep on his feet.

They arrived in the audience chamber and joined the small clump of advisors and representatives from other countries, various organizations, and any other foreigners who had an interest in the affairs of Vespera. In another clump stood various Generals and military experts; a third clump held well-to-do merchants and tradesmen. The final group appeared to be the local nobles and important officials within the palace, city, or country. Anyone who had any interest at all in Vespera had a representative here as often as may be. A trumpet sounded and the Queen entered. She was a beautiful young woman and appeared full of grace and wisdom. She took her seat and then the gathered representatives took their seats on either side of the throne, along each wall.

"Captain Lyre," said the Queen formally, "I see you have brought a new face to this delightful gathering. Pray, who is he."

"My Lady," Lyre bowed, "this is Lieutenant Tristan. He has come to learn what it means to be a royal Advisor. Fear not, he will not interfere or disrupt your Majesty in any way."

"Thank you Lyre. I welcome you to Vespera Lieutenant Tristan," said the Queen, "I hope your stay will be enjoyable." Tristan bowed in thanks and resumed his seat. The other people present looked at him curiously, a few with contempt. The evening passed slowly as various individuals, groups, or representatives came forward to have their cases judged by the Queen. From a dispute over who owned a runaway pig to nobles squabbling over property lines, the Queen judged each situation fairly, but with compassion. Tristan could see why she was so popular and successful a queen, though she was also relatively young. Occasionally during the course of the night, he thought he saw her glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, but perhaps it was just the flickering light of the candles. The court was dismissed, all stood as her Majesty walked gracefully out, and bowed as she passed. Some of the observers retreated immediately to their own chambers, but Lyre and Tristan remained.

"Conrad!," cried Lyre to a man standing nearby. The man looked towards them as they approached. "I would like you to meet one of my associates; he is here to learn the ropes of being a royal Advisor," continued Lyre, "he has a great interest in the Brethren and I was hoping you could sate his curiosity."

Conrad smiled blandly at Lyre and then looked at Tristan. Both bowed to each other. "I would be honored to speak with you at your convenience," said Conrad ironically.

"Thank you, I very much wish to become acquainted with you and your people," said Tristan dryly.

Lyre gave both of them a strange look but said nothing. "We shall retire now," said Lyre, "but I shall send Tristan to you tomorrow." Lyre could not wait to be rid of the irksome man.

Early the next morning a servant arrived and woke Tristan, informing him that her Majesty had requested his presence on a midmorning ride. Though slightly confused by the honor, he looked forward to meeting this regal woman. He knocked on Lyre's door and told the groggy Captain the news. Lyre was not surprised; the Queen often invited new members of her court out for some sort of activity in hopes of getting to know them (and their strengths and weaknesses) better. Tristan was advised to be completely submissive to her Majesty, to say nothing regarding the Order, and to flatter her Majesty at any opportune time. The idea was to keep her in the dark about their plans while winning her favor and trust; Tristan doubted very much that Lyre's methods would accomplish either but said nothing. Lyre also suggested that after his ride he should visit with Conrad until the Queen held court again that evening. Tristan felt it would be a rather enjoyable day after all. He nodded his assent and went to clean up before breakfast.

Shortly before midmorning a servant came to fetch Tristan. Apparently his horse was misbehaving (again) and would not allow the grooms near her. Tristan only sighed and followed the worried servant to the stables. Upon entering the stable, the mare nickered eagerly at his entrance. She quietly submitted to him as he saddled her. She did lay her ears back when he quietly suggested that perhaps she should let someone else do this next time or people might start to ask questions. He led her out into the courtyard and met a mounted guard who motioned Tristan to follow. He swung into the saddle and followed the guard out a side door and into a vacant alley. They arrived shortly at a small gate in the side of the wall and went out into the countryside. The Queen was waiting for them with another guard and one of her ladies.

"Welcome Lieutenant Tristan," she said.

"Good day my Lady," bowed Tristan.

"I like to know who attends my court," said the Queen, "that is why I have arranged this meeting. I wish to know you better and it will be beneficial for you to know me better as well."

She walked her grey gelding alongside the mare as they set off. The lady-in-waiting lagged slightly behind the Queen and the guards brought up the rear. As they rode, the Queen asked him all the vague and general questions espoused during such an interview, and Tristan answered each efficiently and as intelligently as one can answer so mundane a query. He in turn asked similar questions of her Majesty, which she answered with a wit and wisdom that left no doubt in his mind that hers was a keen mind and a sharp tongue.

After half an hour of such tedium, she kicked her gelding in the flanks and said, "perhaps you would care for a race?" She took off at a gallop, and Tristan had no choice but to follow. The guards and the lady seemed used to this sort of thing and kept apace easily.

They galloped through open meadows, jumped fallen trees along a wooded path, and splashed through numerous small streams. It was an exhilarating and pleasant ride. Once the Queen's exuberance had abated, they returned their mounts to a walk and resumed their conversation. "You ride well Lieutenant Tristan," said the Queen.

"Thank you your Majesty, but please call be Tristan," said he.

"As you wish," smiled the Queen. "I am glad to find you very much different from Lyre and many of his cronies," she continued, "he is an obsequious windbag and is always boring me with some tedious compliment or story of his own greatness."

"I am glad you do not find me tedious your Majesty," smiled Tristan. "

I am not sure how I find you," she said, "you seem to have a good head on your shoulders, or at least it would seem so if you had not taken up with those scoundrels from the Order."

"The course my life has taken of late has been very strange indeed, and this was the last place I thought to find myself, but here I am and I must make the best of it," replied Tristan.

"Why not leave the Order and join a more worthy cause?" asked the Queen.

"It was a worthy cause that drove me to join," said Tristan dryly, "and it will be a worthy cause I continue to pursue long after I have resigned my commission with the Order." The Queen looked at him thoughtfully but made no reply.

"We will speak again later," said she as she rode off with her retinue towards the city and her private gate. Tristan was left to enter through the main gate and find his own way back to the palace.

Upon his return, Lyre was nearly desperate to learn how his conversation with the Queen had gone. Tristan recounted their encounter in brief; Lyre seemed happy at least that he had not somehow irrevocably ruined any future relationship betwixt the Order and the Queen. He was then sent off to find Conrad and was told to 'annoy' him until court was held that evening. Tristan eagerly sought out his old friend. He hoped he would not have to spend too much time with Lyre in future, though it seemed Lyre was more than happy not to spend too much time in his company either. Perhaps this assignment would not be as irksome as he had feared. A servant directed him to Conrad; he found him in the stable talking quietly to a dun stallion. The mare whickered excitedly from her stall. Without a word, both men saddled their mounts and headed out for a private ride. They said little as they wound through the crowded streets. Once they were alone alongside a winding, forested path they began to talk.

"You were the last person I thought to meet here, especially in that uniform!" said Conrad with a laugh.

"It was the Lady's idea, not mine," grinned Tristan, "she thought someone needed to keep an eye on these imposters and for some reason thought I was the man for the job."

"Remind me to stay on her good side or she might give me your job," laughed Conrad.

"It gets worse," said Tristan, "after Lyre decides I am ready, I get to return to Astoria as the Order's Advisor to the Lady."

Conrad wanted to laugh but the seriousness of Tristan's countenance gave him pause, "you are serious?"

Tristan nodded but broke out in a laugh, "can this get any more confusing?" Both men laughed until they nearly fell out of their saddles.

Once they had regained some control over themselves Conrad said, "I do not envy you your situation, but I think the more you irritate Lyre the less time you will need to spend here. The more you get in his way the sooner he will write to your superiors and tell them that you are ready to go out on your own."

"I do not think I will have any trouble irritating Lyre," grinned Tristan, "he is already finding ways to get rid of me. Why do you think he is fobbing me off on you?" They both smiled. Tristan was the last thing a man of Lyre's limited intelligence and huge ego needed. The only subordinate he would be able to tolerate with equanimity would be one as obsequious and fawning as himself. Tristan was well-spoken, intelligent, and fawned over no one. He gave respect where respect was due, but did not fall all over himself trying to flatter his superiors. Lyre's current assignment was probably due as much to no one else wanting to work with him as to anything else; it was an unofficial sort of banishment. They rode and talked for many hours, but only reluctantly headed back to the castle to attend court that evening.

Lyre smiled blandly at Tristan as he approached to take his seat. "Have an enjoyable day?" he asked condescendingly, "I had a very rewarding afternoon as I was able to spend much uninterrupted time in deep thought." Tristan only shrugged.

For the next few weeks, his schedule was very much the same. He attended Lyre at court and other required events but was otherwise left to his own devices. Lyre found that he could not overawe him with his supposedly superior knowledge and felt intimidated by Tristan's confidence and apparent lack of concern about his opinions. Thus, Lyre banished him from his presence as much as he could without violating his orders. Tristan spent much time in Conrad's company and when he was not available, he went for long rides in the surrounding countryside. Besides for court each evening, Tristan was required to attend the half-hour weekly session in which the Queen would listen patiently as Lyre expounded on the glories of the Order (and more often himself). Tristan sat behind him and exchanged pained glances with Her Majesty, but neither spoke much as Lyre talked so much that he rarely left room for any reply. The only other times Tristan had to make an appearance were at official court functions such as balls and jousts, and when the Queen specifically requested his presence, such as on their ride on that first day.

Once or twice a week she seemed to seek him out, especially after a particularly trying session with Lyre. She seemed to appreciate having someone to talk to who was not particularly interested in influencing her opinions or gaining her favor. He gave her the respect and diffidence due a ruler of her station, but also treated her with the deference with which he treated every woman of his acquaintance. She enjoyed having someone see her as not only a Queen but also as a person. Tristan was the first person in a long time who looked at her and saw something besides her crown. It irritated Lyre beyond belief that he was never called in for a private chat, especially after all his years of dedicated service. It was not long before he sent a letter off to the Order stating his excitement in discovering Tristan's innate talent as a royal advisor and his hopes that Tristan would soon find a post of his own. An envoy was soon dispatched from the Order to brief Tristan on his next assignment. Lyre began counting the days.

One night during one of the several balls the palace hosted each year, the Queen asked Tristan to dance. Usually she watched most of the dances and if she did dance it was with one of the local or visiting lords; to dance with an ambassador, especially of a rogue military unit was almost scandalous. The court was intrigued; they loved scandal. He was light on his feet and knew this particular dance well; the Queen was very graceful and this dance was her favorite. The pair was a pleasure to watch. She then proceeded to dance with a representative from each faction or group present in her court, if only to minimize some of the rumor and scandal. Lyre scowled the whole time; he was not well known as a dancer and the Queen never even looked in his direction. The only solace to him was that Tristan was leaving on the morrow. It was Conrad's turn to dance with the Queen; after their dance she whispered something to him as they bowed to each other.

Some minutes later he sought out Tristan and led him aside, "the Queen wishes a private audience with you. She suggests you retire in half an hour and perhaps take a walk in the palace gardens. What is this about? Have you seduced the Queen?"

Tristan gave him a startled look and said, "I hope it is nothing of the sort! I hope it is only to wish me farewell as I am leaving tomorrow. Do not worry; I am well aware of the strictures by which I am bound under the Oath. I admire her greatly, but only as an accomplished and capable leader. What rumors have you heard?"

Conrad smiled reassuringly, "I have only noticed she seems to appreciate having such a listener. Do not worry; I have not heard anything suspicious. I only wanted to make sure you were going to be all right. Have a good trip and give my greetings to the Lady." They bowed to each other and parted company. Tristan waited half an hour and then left the ballroom; he walked some while in the gardens.

It was nearly midnight when a cloaked figure appeared silently beside him as he walked the paths about the garden. They retreated to a secluded corner and the Queen said quietly, "I hear you are leaving tomorrow." Tristan nodded. "I wish you a pleasant journey and success in your future endeavors," she said, "but perhaps you do not have to leave after all. I have enjoyed our conversations and have come to greatly respect you. I have been courted by many lesser men, and until I am safely married many more will pursue me. I do not wish to be forward, but I see something in you that I have seen in no one else. You have it in you to make a great leader and husband."

Tristan stared at her in astonishment for several long moments and said, "Majesty, I am honored by such words and sentiments, but I never meant to endear myself to you. I have only ever treated you with the courtesy due a ruler or any woman; not to gain your respect or admiration but because it was your due. I greatly respect you as a person and a ruler, but you do not know what you ask. I am bound by oaths stronger than blood; I cannot marry anyone who has not taken the same Oath."

She looked at first affronted and then angry and then a stubborn look entered her eyes, "what is the value of an Oath to a corrupt organization like the Order?"

"My Lady, if I broke any oath how could I claim to be an honorable man? But it is not any oath I have taken to the Order that binds me. If you must, talk to Conrad after I have gone...if you must know more. I wish you all the best in finding an honorable man and in the future success of your reign." With that he fled from the garden and saw her no more. She remained for some time thinking and gazing longingly in the direction of his flight.

The next morning, Tristan was awakened by a knock at his door. The envoy stood there with a servant beside him. The envoy entered the tiny room and the servant bowed himself away. "Tristan?" asked the intruder.

"Yes," said Tristan wearily (it had been a sleepless night).

"I bring information for your eyes alone," said the envoy. He handed Tristan two pieces of parchment: one was a letter to him from the High Council of the Order and the other was addressed to the Lady of Astoria and demanded that he be allowed to stay on there indefinitely as the Order's official emissary. The Lady would love that, but she had been forewarned. Tristan had sent off one of Conrad's pigeons with a message for her about his current and future assignments. The letter addressed to himself informed him that he could now call himself 'Captain' and outlined his duties as the official Advisor to the Lady of Astoria. He was to advise her in all matters regarding the Order, to attend her at all possible times, to inform the Council immediately of any important developments, and to eventually wheedle or intimidate her into allowing a garrison to be stationed in Astoria. He was also to keep his eyes open for any potential recruits for the Order (locals may be easier to station there than foreigners) and anyone who might possibly make a trusty spy. The Lady was going to love this!

He thanked the envoy, signed the form stating he had received the specified documents, and sent him on his way. He was packed and ready to go within half an hour. He knocked on Lyre's door and thanked him for his time and example. Lyre bid him ado with more joy than befitted his departure, but as long as he was happy, Tristan would not ruin it for him. He went down to the stables and saddled the mare. He stopped briefly by the larder, and acquired some trail-worthy food and some breakfast. He was on his way shortly after sunrise. As he rode away, a great weight lifted from his shoulders and he urged the mare to a faster pace. She complied immediately, excited to be on the trail once more. She despised being crammed in a stall and looked after as a normal horse. Tristan shared her sense of release. From a window high atop the palace, the Queen watched him ride off until he was lost in the distance.

### Chapter 8

A little more than a week of hard riding brought them home. Thankfully, nothing more exciting than a rainstorm had occurred on the journey to Astoria; Tristan needed the time to regain his composure. So much had happened in the months of his absence that he felt he had been away years instead. As he rode, he wondered what had become of Pallin. The boy must be nearly ready to take his Oath by now, if he wished to do so. He hoped he would be there in time to see it. He also wondered what had become of the eight bandits he had sent to Astoria. The Lady would have much to say upon his arrival, he thought ruefully. He rode into the city in full uniform, save for the fake horn on his mount. He thought the things gaudy, and it would have been a desecration and a mockery to put one on a real unicorn. He would have preferred to slip in anonymously, but he was sure there were spies amongst the servants and townsfolk and he could not risk ruining his cover quite yet. As he rode through the vast collection of shops and houses surrounding the walls of the actual city, he received many curious looks from the townsfolk but no one dared speak to him. The mare snorted in mirth at their apparent dread. Tristan wondered what awaited him within.

At the gate leading into the city, he was stopped for questioning; the guards were taking no chances after their last encounter with one of the Order's emissaries. The guards were both members of the Warrior sect and looked like they could handle Tristan alone and unarmed. He dismounted and bowed to both of them. They did a double take when they got a closer look at him. The man on the left gasped, "what is the world coming to!"

"Are you a wolf in sheep's clothing or sheep in wolf's clothing?" asked the one on the right.

"That you will have to ask the Lady," laughed Tristan, "this is her doing and she is expecting me, though as far as you are concerned I am simply the Order's Emissary to the Lady and nothing more."

They nodded and allowed him to pass, though one barked after him in mock severity, "I hope you are better behaved than the last wretch of your lot who passed this way." The mare's ears twitched in irritation; she was growing tired of the subterfuge though she did enjoy the irony.

The street climbed steadily towards the castle and many of the people in the street stopped to stare at him in disbelief and even open anger. He stared straight ahead and tried not to feel the heat in those glares. At the castle gates, he had a similar encounter with four more Warriors but was allowed to pass with only a little hassling. A stable boy ran out to take his mare and Tristan whispered to him, "treat her like she is one of the Brethren's own lad." The mare looked gratefully at him and walked away following the boy. A servant met him, bowed, and asked that Tristan follow. Tristan followed as placidly as the mare. They snaked through the corridors and finally came to one of the smaller audience chambers. Inside, the Lady sat by a window watching the comings and goings in the courtyard below.

"Thank you Angbar," she said, "you may go." The servant bowed and shut the door behind him. The Lady stood and faced her guest. Tristan bowed low.

They looked at each other for half a minute and then she laughed, "what have I entangled you in my dear boy!" Tristan only shook his head in shared mirth. "Of course you probably sent me those eight bandits just to get even with me," she said. Tristan looked at her aghast and then she burst out laughing, "no I know you would not do a thing like that. It was all you could have done in the situation and was quite ingenious actually. It has been long since I have had a chance to talk with a dragon and now I have spoken with several and on more than one occasion." She smiled delightedly to herself. "Sit, sit please," she said as she took a seat across from him. There was a pot of tea and several dainty cakes on the table between them and she helped herself and motioned for him to do the same.

"Now tell me about your adventures these past few months and what this Order of yours expects of you and Astoria," she said. He looked at her in disbelief at the mention of 'his Order' but said nothing on that topic. He showed her both his orders and the letter addressed to herself and regaled her with his adventures since last they met. "They think a great deal of themselves I see," she said tossing the letter aside, "it is good to have verification that they have spies amongst the servants and townspeople. I have suspected it and acted accordingly. Perhaps we can find them a few more 'reliable' individuals. Of course you will have to double check all of your correspondence to the Order with me." He nodded. She continued, "perhaps I will even let you start your garrison if we can find the right group of young men to people it." He stared at her in disbelief for a moment as the meaning sunk in. "I do not see why we cannot have a few representatives within the Order; perhaps over time we can redeem it and make it into a worthwhile organization. However, we will discuss that later. I find it fascinating that Queen Britna nearly made you King, but you acted as you should have and we will speak no more on this matter except that I must know if you have feelings for her."

Tristan replied, "I was flattered by her proposals, but I do not love her as a man ought to love a woman. I respect her a great deal, and she is an impressive woman, but I have no feelings of affection for her."

The Lady nodded in approval and moved on to the next topic of interest, "that stable boy of yours is about ready to take his Oath. He is a very impressive young man once he is well-fed, cleaned up, and taught to speak properly. He still has issues with the Order that he will have to work out, which may make your relationship a little awkward, but I think you will be very proud of him. As for those eight bandits, five have decided to take their Oaths (they will do it at the same time as Pallin). One is studying blacksmithing, another found a local girl and has settled down to raise children and potatoes, and the eighth got himself employed at the nearest Penal Stone Quarry for trying to runaway before we said he could. Seven out of eight is not bad, but next time you find some persons who need something to do, maybe this Order of yours would like them," she said laughing then added, "actually, I think I will give them all back to you."

Tristan looked at her in confusion.

"When I sent the Brethren to the four corners of the world with a mandate to spread the Truth openly and wherever they could, I had no idea of the results I would get," she said, "we have had more new recruits showing up in the last several months than we have had over the last few years! Our teachers are becoming overwhelmed. It is a nice problem to have, but we will need to find places to apprentice these youngsters once they have taken their Oaths. I think you would do well apprenticing six or so, say five bandits and a stable boy."

Tristan finally understood though he was not sure how he was going to handle six at once. Usually one newly sworn apprentice was placed with a seasoned Brother for a year or two to hone skills and get field experience, but six at one time! He also wondered how this would work with his cover as a member of the Order.

The Lady continued, "do not worry about your little charade. Just write to those lovely masters of yours that I have assigned you a small group of boys to mentor since I do not think you will have much else to do while you are here. You can also inform them that you are taking the assignment to appease my insanity, and because you think you may be able to win them over to the Order. That should make everyone happy. The Order already thinks I am crazy after the report they undoubtedly received from their last representative; this will only confirm it. Besides, the spies will notice I have applicants coming out my ears and am desperate to place them with skilled mentors, even if I must find them outside the Brethren. They will hopefully be contented to know that you are at least making some headway where that other fellow, Brisby?... did not."

Tristan thought her plan insane, but also ingenious. He had not had an apprentice in a very long time. He was a member of the smallest sect: the Messengers. The Messengers had the most dangerous and varied missions so they had to excel in the areas of knowledge, martial skills, and communication, instead of specializing in one area as the other Sects did. One could apply for any sect, but the Messengers only took in the very best applicants. They were used by the Lady and Council of Six in the more sensitive and dangerous missions. Tristan wondered if his six future apprentices were all talented enough to be potential Messengers or if the Lady just figured he could keep them out of trouble until they could be placed with a more permanent mentor.

"Now," said the Lady, "I will inform the rest of the Brethren in Astoria about your 'delicate' situation and have them treat you accordingly. The only exception will be that you may attend the Oath-taking, but it must be done secretly so as not to expose your true identity." Tristan nodded in acknowledgement, and bid the Lady goodnight and followed the waiting servant to his quarters.

The next morning, Tristan had just finished dressing when he heard a servant at his door. "Sir," he said, "there is a young man who wishes to see you." He gave a sideways glance at a tall, muscular young man in the uniform of a student. It took Tristan a moment to recognize Pallin; he had grown and filled so much that Tristan hardly recognized him. Tristan smiled and asked him to come in. A smile of pure joy played across the boy's face at the sight of his long absent friend, but it dissolved into confusion and anger as he took in what Tristan was wearing.

"What!? How!" he almost sobbed. Tristan tried to put an arm around the distressed boy but it was pushed violently aside. "You know what they are to me," he half yelled, half wept.

"Relax," said Tristan, "you know me better than that. Would I ever do anything to violate the Lady's commands, the laws of the Master, my Oath, or the Common Law?" The boy wept openly but a glimmer of hope crept into his face. "Think about it," Tristan continued, "had I violated my Oath I would stand before you a shriveled and broken man, if I could stand before you at all. You know what happens to those who deny the Master after swearing their lives to his service." The boy nodded. With the taking of the Oath, the Brethren received among other special abilities and gifts, a very long life. In revoking or breaking the Oath, the abilities and gifts were also lost. This meant that if the former Brother had lived a very long time already, his years would swiftly catch up with him. The boy visibly relaxed at this and looked hopefully at Tristan, yearning for more of an explanation. "This uniform is simply a disguise," he continued, "I find no pleasure in wearing the thing. The Lady wishes to know more about what these so-called Knights are up to. I am the unhappy man she chose for this mission and as part of that I somehow find myself here as their emissary to her. I must pretend to have allegiance to them while still being loyal to her. What a perfect disaster!"

The boy laughed and embraced the man he looked up as a father. "She speaks well of you," he said, "and by the look of it, you are doing very well indeed. I shall be attending your Oath-taking this afternoon, but it must be kept a secret. To you and everyone else I am no member of the Brethren but a despised Knight of the Order."

No one outside the Brethren was allowed to attend an Oath-taking, but Tristan would find a way to smuggle himself in. They spent much of the morning catching up until Pallin had to leave to prepare for the afternoon's events. Tristan smiled as he watched the young man run off in excitement and fear. He had felt the same way many long years ago. He went in search of the Lady. Upon finding her, he made some eloquent remarks about his hope for their future illustrious relationship; she made some non-committal statements and informed him she had business to attend to. He bowed and let her pass. This was all staged so any eavesdroppers could report it to their masters. He hoped it looked authentic; Lyre had taught him much about obsequiousness.

He returned to his room, grabbed an armload of presorted articles, and headed for the stables; there he met one of the Brethren who did not plan on attending today's events. Tristan quickly dressed the obliging man in an Order uniform and had him mount the irritated mare; she only reluctantly carried anyone but Tristan, but she cooperated. His double then rode off very obviously for an afternoon's ride. Tristan slipped on his own Brethren uniform and threw a hooded cloak over his head. He hid in the hayloft for several hours, hoping no one was crazy enough to wait that long to watch him emerge. He slipped out a back door and headed for the ceremonial grounds.

The castle was built atop a hill whose very crown was enclosed in a high stone wall and left open. Down the center of the hill ran a deep crevice which so many millennia ago had been rent open by the slaying of the Master in place of the innocent girl. It was on this hilltop that the Oath-taking took place, though on quieter days it was simply a green space where off-duty unicorns grazed. Tristan slipped quietly into the small knot of gathered Brethren who had assembled as witnesses to today's events. No one remarked him as anything out of the ordinary. Although it was impossible for one of the Brethren to act as a spy, there were still servants and townsfolk about in the castle proper so he must be careful.

The candidates formed a single file line on the far side of the crevice. The Lady and her unicorn stood on the other side near the assembled Brethren. Without ceremony or preamble, she took a wicked looking steel instrument and drew forth a shower of silver blood from the great neck vein of the patient unicorn. An assistant caught the precious fluid in a silver cup as the Lady quickly repaired the hole in the creature's vein and skin with a few practiced stitches. She then turned to the assembled applicants who were nearly trembling, and said, "you have come today to swear an Oath before all here assembled. To serve none but the Master, his laws and truth, and those appointed by him to oversee said Truth. You swear to forsake all personal possessions, dreams, and aspirations. You swear to dedicate your lives to his service alone; to uphold justice, peace, and love for others. You swear to lay down your life, if need be, in defense of the helpless and the Truth. You swear to abide by the Common Law, the Truth, and the laws of the Brethren. You swear not to enter into marriage with any save one who has also sworn this Oath. You do not swear to be perfect, but to try your best and overcome your weaknesses. You may forsake this Oath at any time of your own choosing or you will be forsaken by the Brethren and the Master if you grievously and intentionally violate the tenets you have sworn herein and upon such occasion you shall lose all rights, responsibilities, and privileges acquired by the taking of this Oath."

She looked gravely at each of the assembled and said, "does any here have any doubts or questions about what the Oath entails?" No one spoke. "Then come forward and if you swear the Oath step across the crevice and say so before the assembled witnesses and the Master himself. If any wish to forego the Oath, let him leave now." No one moved. "Then you may take your Oath," she said.

One by one, the assembled candidates stepped across the gaping fissure and said 'I so swear' and upon stepping to the other side was handed the cup of silver blood. They then took a finger, dipped it in the cup, and placed a drop of the silver fluid on their tongues. There was no overt physical change, but to the assembled Brethren the newcomers now seemed to have a faint glow about them, only noticeable to one who had also taken the Oath. After the last applicant had stepped across, the assembled Brethren cheered and embraced their new Brothers.

Tristan slipped quietly out of the assembly and returned to the stable to await his double. The double arrived some time later and hid himself in the straw. Tristan thanked him and the mare, donned his Order uniform (now dirty and smelling of horse), and left the stable and returned to his quarters. Later he came downstairs to supper and sat at one of the tables reserved for guests. The new apprentices sat at the Lady's table in a place of honor for the night. Tristan caught Pallin's eye and smiled his approval. The boy glowed with excitement.

The next morning, Tristan was woken before the sun by a loud knocking at his door. "Yes," he said groggily and then started awake. Six large boys or more appropriately young men, in the everyday uniform of an apprentice stood smiling outside his door. The Lady was most definitely having too much fun with this. He shut the door and quickly donned his own uniform, washed his face, and tried to tame his hair. He opened the door again and the boys still stood there grinning like fools. "You probably think this is funny," he said to no one in particular, "but you will soon learn this is no place or time for silliness." They grinned all the more. This was going to be a long day.

He led them quietly to the stable where they found his mare already waiting. They each saddled a normal horse and headed out into the fields surrounding the city. Each would eventually find a unicorn, but sometimes it took a month or so. Tristan was not sure how the whole process worked. He did not know how the unattached unicorns knew when their services were needed, how they decided who volunteered for such service, or why a particular unicorn went with a particular apprentice. All he knew was that some time during the first few weeks or even months of the apprenticeship, a unicorn inadvertently showed up and would not go away. There was no formal oath or ceremony. They were just there and you were literally stuck with them. They were very intelligent, perhaps wiser than any creature save the dragons. They could not talk, but they did not need to; you felt what they wanted you to know and they could sense what you were thinking and feeling. They were very faithful and nothing short of death could separate you from them. They could travel great distances very swiftly, quietly, and without exhaustion. They could also cloak themselves in various guises including looking and smelling like a normal horse. They were fearsome fighters and nothing save a dragon could take on a full-grown stallion. In other words, they were the ideal companion for the many dangers and lonely roads faced in service to the Master and the Lady.

Tristan's only goal for the day was to see how well these lads knew their stuff and to get to know them a little better as individuals. The last he had seen of them they had been an ill-spoken stable boy and five bandit-wannabes. They apparently knew how to handle a horse because they rode the rather grueling course he led them on with ease. He quizzed them on a variety of subjects and they were comfortable with history, literature, music, art, politics, geography, and a variety of other topics. Next, he watched as they paired off and had practice duels with a variety of weapons and then with nothing but their hands and feet. Then he turned them loose on the archery range. They had learned much in a few months! He had never seen such a talented and eager bunch of young men. The last part of the day, they spent going over the finer points of the Common Law, the Truth, and strictures of the Brethren. These they knew almost by rote and could interpret and use them in a variety of hypothetical situations. They were definitely going to keep him on his toes. At suppertime, they sat at a small table with their newfound leader. The Lady smiled approvingly at her apparently unhappy headmaster and he gave her a mock-glower. The spies should have much to report. His quarters had been moved in his absence to the large room his six apprentices shared in the wing that housed the students, servants, and unattached apprentices. The move was meant to further convince anyone who cared to pay attention that he was being carefully watched at all times by the Lady and her minions. He had had much worse bunkmates in the past so he did not complain. After supper, they spent their time talking about the past and the future. They were all aware of his true status as a member of the Brethren, but to everyone else they pretended he was an imposed upon Knight of the Order. They delighted in the subterfuge. Tristan found himself looking forward to their time together.

His first letter to the Order found a quick reply. They were surprised at the strange course things had taken, but were delighted that he had at least been allowed to stay in the city and to occasionally see the Lady. They also liked the idea of converting a few of these Brethren to the Order's cause (they had no idea that it was impossible for them to throw themselves over heart and soul without violating their Oath). The members of his former unit were doing well and were having a very positive influence on the behavior of other members of the Order. They also noted that they would watch his progress with much anticipation. The Lady was pleased by this response, and any correspondence the spies sent to their contacts within the Order only corroborated what they knew from Tristan's reports.

Tristan and his apprentices fell into a routine of practicing, expanding, and honing their skills and knowledge during the several months they were under his tutelage. Each had decided he would like to join the Messenger sect and each was given permission based on their outstanding progress. Tristan was having the time of his life instructing such a skilled and committed group of young men. Each of them had found (or been found by) their respective unicorns within the first week of their advanced training (which was unheard of). They began to comment occasionally in public about their respect for their teacher and their thoughts that perhaps the Order would be an interesting place to advance their careers. The spies were happy to pass on these little tidbits and the Order was ecstatic, urging Tristan to get a commitment from such promising young men. In due time, it was decided that all save Pallin would 'join' the Order and they began to call their room 'the garrison.' Pallin could not even pretend such a thing, but he was faring better with his enmity towards the Order and was gradually overcoming his hatred of them. He slowly began to see the Order as a group of individuals who were misguided and desperately needed the knowledge he had to give. He once viewed the Order as a giant machine composed of soulless ghouls whose only intent was rape and murder. Tristan was proud of his men, but hated having to involve them in the Order. Perhaps the Lady's idea of reforming the Order from within would one day come to fruition through efforts such as these, however much he disliked involving himself with the Order.

One evening, as they were walking back to the city for supper (they had left the unicorns to their own devices back in the city, as Tristan had wanted to drill them on their tracking skills) they came upon a lone horseman walking his mount wearily towards the city, as if he had spent many long days in the saddle yet was reluctant to reach his final destination. It was a curious sight. He stopped his mount a quarter mile from the gate and glared at the city or perhaps something within. Whatever it was he hated, he hated it with all his being. Hate seemed to roll off him in waves; hatred enough to drive one nearly mad. As Tristan and his apprentices skirted the man and continued on towards the main gate, the man switched his glare from the city to the interlopers alongside his horse. The uniform of the Order worn by the leader of the small group caught his single eye.

He then recognized the face he hated almost as much as he hated the Lady and her vile city. But another memory stirred. With the city so close memories came back to him of his previous visit and with them he remembered seeing that face before. He had rightfully tried to smite an offensive whelp of a boy, but the very traitor he saw before him had robbed him of his vengeance. The very man he had been sent to check-up on was right there before him and completely unaware of the evil thoughts running through Brisbane's mind. The man had been an inmate of this foul city long before he had ever joined the Order; he must be one of them. He was a traitor to the Order, not to mention the man Brisbane most reviled. An evil leer lit his face as he drew his sword and leapt from his horse, uttering an insane howl of vengeance. Tristan had been deep in thought and had unwisely ignored the tired horseman. He was drawn from his contemplations by an eerie howl only to find Brisbane nearly on top of him.

Tristan managed to draw his sword in time to block the initial attack but could not bring it around before the dagger Brisbane held in his other hand plunged deep into his chest. He spasmed with pain, fell to the ground, clutching the hilt of the offending weapon. Brisbane, wild with exhilaration at striking a fatal blow, stood laughing in triumph only to be tackled to the ground by four of the apprentices. The guards at the gate sounded the alarm, drew their swords, and came running.

Dresden, the unofficial leader amongst the apprentices bellowed at Pallin to see to Tristan. Pallin had drawn his sword and was making a mad dash towards the prone Brisbane. Pallin threw his sword to the ground and reluctantly obeyed; he knelt by Tristan's side as he gasped for breath. Tears of anguish ran down the boy's face. Somewhere within the city, a scream of utter rage and terror ripped through the night. People screamed and jumped aside as a unicorn in all its terrible glory thundered towards the awful scene. Tristan was struggling for each breath, but managed to murmur to the grief-stricken Pallin, "remember your Oathhhh..." He trailed off into a pained gasp and lapsed into silence. The mare reached her dying master and gently nuzzled his pallid face. Everyone was struck dumb by the sheer beauty and terror of the scene. They watched helplessly as the stricken man made one last painful gasp for air and then lay still. She nuzzled him helplessly and then her eyes rolled back into her head, she groaned, and then fell over as if struck dead. She convulsed a few times and then lay still. A horrible, gaping wound could be seen near her breast. The light that had once suffused her entire body dimmed and went out.

Tristan jumped as if someone had doused him with cold water. "No!" he groaned feebly and crawled weakly to the side of the dead mare. "No..." he wept into her dingy mane. He held the noble head in his lap as her color faded from white to misty grey to mist itself. She seemed to dissolve into thin air; nothing remained but the trampled vegetation and a few specks of silver blood. "Noooo," he continued to weep in a half strangled voice. He weakly drew himself to his feet and picked up Pallin's abandoned sword; everyone stared at him in fear and confusion. Slowly he walked towards the pinned Brisbane and held the sword a few inches from his nose. "You have slain that which is dearest to the Master and myself; the wisest and most faithful of creatures that live upon the earth. If I could, I would slay you myself, but that is for others to decide. May the Master have mercy on your soul." With that, he flung the sword aside and walked heavily off into the gathering night.

Pallin made as if to follow him, but Dresden held him back. "Leave him be," he said quietly. The guards and dazed apprentices hauled Brisbane to his feet and drug him into the city.

### Chapter 9

Tristan wandered aimlessly in the darkness and wept bitterly. He found a rocky shelf on the edge of a still pool and flung himself down beside the water. His tears made small splashes in the pond and the full moon hung in mocking reflection just above his tormented face. He lay there for some time weeping for the loss of his best friend and truest companion. He glanced again at the unfeeling reflection of the moon, wondering how it could shine so gaily in the face of such tragedy. When he looked again, he was looking not at the moon but into the face of the Master himself. There was love and compassion in his eyes, but also the authority of one who had the power to make the worlds spin or stop according to his whims.

"Why do you weep?" he asked.

"I weep for one I have lost, as dear to me as mother, sister, or wife," said Tristan.

"You do not weep for her, for you know you have not lost her," replied the Master quietly. He continued, "you weep for yourself. You know she runs free in the lands beyond mortal woes: far beyond all pain, care, or worry. You also know you shall meet again when your work is done. Why do you weep? Why do you weep when you have not lost her, you are merely parted for a time? Now gather what strength and courage you have and go. Evil is stirring and the light grows faint. There are many crying out for what only you and your Brothers can give. Find them and stop the fall of night. You do not ride alone, for I ride with you. But the battle is yours to fight, I can lend you strength and aid, but only you can conquer this evil tide. I stepped in once, but I will not do so again until the end of time. Weep no more. Take my peace, my joy, and my confidence, and ride out to conquer the foe that rises in the West."

The light dimmed a little, but was still brighter than the moon had a right to be. It was still a unicorn's head reflected there, but his eyes held only love and concern, not the power to unmake worlds. The horn was shorter and of silver not of gold; it was a unicorn of the mortal race. At first Tristan's heart leapt for joy at the thought that his beloved Aria had returned, for the noble head held much resemblance to hers, but further inspection revealed a bearded chin marking this a stallion. Tristan turned his head and found a great white stallion staring him in the face. He recognized him now as Taragon, Aria's eldest foal. He flung his arms around the great neck; the noble animal placed his head on the crying Brother's back. For some time they held this position each taking comfort in the other's presence. After some while, Tristan climbed weakly onto the great back and clung helplessly to the mane. The valiant beast ran as swift as the wind and as softly as a shadow through the moonlit woods: splashing through silver creeks and dodging the boles of ancient trees. Not a leaf stirred in their passing. In the early watches of the night, they rode together to the gates of Astoria. They entered the city which stood silent as the grave. Only the guards noted their passing. In the courtyard of the castle stood the Lady. Tears glinted silver in her eyes. Tristan dismounted and she laid a hand on his shoulder. He bowed his head in thanks and together they walked silently into the keep.

The greatest gift a unicorn can give its master is its very life. Tristan had suffered a mortal blow, but was not quite dead. Aria arrived in time and took the wound unto herself and died from it, but Tristan was completely healed save for being weak and tired. He could not continue in the Order after the night's events. It was decided that he and Pallin would head west in search of this rising evil of which the Master. The five other apprentices would remain in Astoria under the command of Dresden and would 'officially join' the Order and be the first official garrison in Astoria for the Order. Tristan wrote a letter detailing his resignation, the murder attempt by Brisbane who was facing execution under Astorian law, and the decision of the five young men to join the Order. He also requested that Bristol be sent as the new emissary to Astoria and that he be put in charge of the 'garrison.' Tristan rested for a few weeks, briefed Bristol when he arrived, said his goodbyes, and then he and Pallin headed into the Utter West.

The uttermost west was a mysterious land between the Western Sea and the Impassable Mountains. While the Wildlands in the North were untamed and sparsely populated, this far western land was inhabited but there was very little exchange of news or goods with the rest of the known world because of the treacherous mountains that effectively isolated that country. The mountains could be navigated during the warmer parts of the year, but the passes were narrow and only men on foot, single file on horseback, or a with a mule train could pass through. The mountains were also home to mysterious and sometimes evil creatures that flourished in wild and lonely country. Bandits often lurked in the narrow places preying on those that dared make the journey. The goods that did manage to pass over the mountains were considered luxuries due to their rarity and were highly sought after by the rich and powerful. Rumors and stories abounded of that far land, but few had ventured forth and even fewer had returned to tell of it. The truth remained elusive, but each tale told was stranger and darker than the last. The Lady had tried sending emissaries over the mountains but none had ever come back and no word had ever reached her of their fate. She was hesitant to send Tristan, but he was determined to go. All could see that evil was growing all over the known world and sense that something worse was imminent though none knew what. The uttermost west was the perfect place for something terrifying to brood and grow until it could sweep the world away into darkness. Someone had to go.

Tristan and Pallin set out as soon as they could, hoping to pass the mountains in mid-summer when the chances of becoming trapped by foul weather were least. It would take a month of hard riding just to reach the mountains themselves. Each man had a packhorse loaded with the supplies they would need on the cross-country journey. They would restock before crossing the mountains. Bristol had arrived to take over 'the garrison,' though he was not happy to learn that he would have to double-check everything he did with the Lady first. As long as he was leading men on Astorian soil, he had to abide by the laws of the Brethren. He was however very glad to see Tristan again, though grieved about his encounter with Brisbane. He wished Tristan well on his journey (though he doubted the sanity of it) and promised to serve the Lady as best he could. Though Tristan had officially resigned from the Order he packed his spare uniform though he was not exactly sure why. The Lady bid them goodbye and watched sadly as they rode off towards the evening, wondering if she would ever see them again.

They camped most nights on their trip, but occasionally they had the chance to stay at an inn along the way. Their first such stop was at the very inn at which Pallin had been the stable boy so many months before. It was a strange experience for him to sit in the common room as a guest at table, rather than to sit alone in the dark stable hoping there would be a few scraps left for his supper. Of course no one recognized him as he had grown and filled out and was no longer dressed in rags. Tristan's heart went out to the poor urchin who currently filled Pallin's former post. Pallin could only stare in wonder at the starving boy that had once been him. They spent an uneventful night and were on the road again early the next morning. As they rode, Pallin asked, "why did we not pick up that poor boy and take him with us?"

Tristan smiled ironically and said, "because he is far safer there than we may be very soon. We help those we can, but there is so much need and suffering in the world that one person cannot do everything, and trying to do everything will only beggar you or drive you mad. Each of us needs to take responsibility for those things we can change for the better, and if enough people acted accordingly the world would be a much better place." They rode on in silence. They arose early each morning and rode as far into the evening as they could. The days began to lengthen allowing more time in the saddle each day. They traveled by main roads as often as they could, and only stopped to water or rest the horses or sleep for the night. Two plainly dressed men crossing the known world from East to West through civilized country caused little comment and no concern. The world was still fairly peaceful and travelers went frequently to and fro on their own business. It was a pleasant ride, though long, and they were weary of travel by the time they reached the Last Chance Inn at the base of the Impassable Mountains.

Tristan decided to rest a bit before tackling the mountains. The unicorns could go on, but the packhorses could use a rest as much, if not more than the men. The inn was pleasant, though small and the staff very curious (they did not get many travelers planning to head over the mountains). Tristan simply said they had a wish to see what was on the other side and if there really was anything so mysterious about the land between the mountains and the sea. They spent five days at the inn during which they restocked their supplies and made ready to head over the mountains. The innkeeper and all his family and staff gathered to see them off and thought they might be the last living men to do so. Their path had started climbing many days before they reached the Inn as they traveled through the foothills. As they set out on the final leg of their journey, they found the terrain rising steeply towards the summit. They had some semblance of a map, which Tristan had copied from a very faded and aged map that the innkeeper had inherited from kin who knows how many generations back. Whether it was reliable or not was another question, but it was all they had.

Tristan checked the map occasionally but for the most part they let the unicorns find their own way; they had a remarkable path finding ability. On the eastern side of the mountains they traveled through sagebrush, weathered grasses, scrubby pines, and such plants as could grow in rocky soil where little rain fell. On the western side, they expected to find the slopes heavily forested, but for now there was little cover for those who wished not to be seen. For several days, they traveled without incident. The going was slow as the trail wound up and down, back and forth seeking the easiest path; scree slipped and slid under foot, large rocks and fallen trees further slowed their passage. One night a large, dark shape was seen prowling among the rocks and shadows just outside of the fire's light. Whatever it was sniffed the air, wheezed as if it had caught an unexpected and unpleasant scent, and quickly shuffled off into the darkness. It had apparently smelled something it would rather not tangle with; Taragon seemed rather proud of himself. Tristan could only scratch his head in wonder. After that encounter, they were not bothered by any of the local wildlife, but there were still human predators abroad.

One morning as they were beginning their descent, they were forced to travel through a narrow valley that zigzagged out of sight. It was a perfect place for an ambush, but it was their only choice at the moment. Slowly they entered with Tristan leading and Pallin following. Nothing happened. They rode on for half an hour and all remained silent save the crunching of stone beneath hooves. They were nearing the far side when the unicorns' ears perked up and their nostrils flared; they had caught some faint sound or scent that was out of place in the silent pass. The men unsheathed their swords and prepared for flight or battle.

"Now, now gentlemen," said a voice from above, "I would not want to have to kill you just because of a slight misunderstanding. Put those away before you get hurt." Tristan looked up at several men perched above on either side of the pass with bows bent and arrows ready to fly. The leader and spokesman was an unshaven, weedy fellow with a triumphant smile on his face. Tristan nodded to Pallin and they sheathed their weapons. "Good, good," said the leader, "now ride on out of that crack and once you get out into the open you will find some of my lads who will take your weapon. Remember I have you covered so no funny business."

They quietly complied, Pallin only reluctantly; he seemed ready to go out in the blaze of glory rather than surrender. They reached the end of the little valley and where it opened into a wide meadow they found half a dozen men waiting for them. Half of the men wielded swords and the rest had bows held at the ready. The weedy fellow had followed along the ridge and stood on the rocky hillside above them; the rest of his henchmen covered them with bows on both sides of the opening. "Now if you will be so kind as to dismount and hand your weapons to these helpful chaps, we would much appreciate the effort." They handed their swords and daggers to their captors. The unicorns tossed their heads in defiance as several men came forward to take their reins but quieted as Tristan signaled them to cooperate. The horses were led off and secured to some small trees; the men started to rifle through packs and saddlebags. "Now anything you carry of value please hand to my friends as well. Purses, coins, jewelry, that sort of thing," said the weedy man. They carried little of value save their coin purses and these were handed to the bandits. They were then escorted to a fallen log and told to take a seat.

As they sat and waited for whatever came next, the weedy man came over and began snooping about their persons hoping to find any as yet hidden valuables. He walked away disappointed. After his men had gone through their things twice and found nothing of any great value the weedy man said, "now gentlemen, it appears you have nothing I really want. You have some food, equipment, and supplies that might come in handy and a little coin in your purses but nothing that really perks my interest. I am desperately trying to find some reason to spare your lives, but you have nothing to trade for them. And you know you cannot get anything for free. Perhaps you have some useful information that would bring a good price if whispered in the right ear?"

Tristan said, "we are just simple travelers wishing to see what lies on the other side of these mountains. We have nothing with us but that which is required for our journey. We know little of use to a learned man such as yourself. We are simple men of little importance in the world, but why must you kill us just because we carry nothing of value? You would kill us anyway, even if we had something to 'trade' for our lives."

"I see you are no fool," said the weedy man, "you are right in thinking I would kill you regardless of what you carry if I meant to kill you. I was just hoping to discover if you did have anything worthwhile."

"So you are going to let us go?" asked Pallin hopefully. Tristan smiled ruefully at his apprentice's naivette.

"Let you go?" laughed the other man, "do not be ridiculous. You two are worth a lot to the right people."

"Slavery!" said Tristan vehemently.

"Not exactly," said the man, "think of it more as being drafted. They are building an army west of the mountains and a couple sturdy lads like yourselves will bring a good price, especially you," he said pointing at Tristan. "I found some sort of military uniform amongst your baggage and I am assuming by the look of it that you had or have some sort of significant rank in whatever outfit you were or are part of," he looked questioningly at Tristan.

"I was once a Captain, but I have resigned my commission and taken up adventuring," said Tristan, "the rigors of service proved too much for me and I needed a break."

"Well, I hope you are well rested," sneered the other man, "because you are about to reenlist." He walked away laughing. Pallin glanced at Tristan worriedly, but he did not seem concerned in the least.

They camped in the meadow that night, and half of their new 'friends' were to take them down to the foot of the mountains on the morrow and put them safely into the hands of whoever it was that was building this army. The next morning before they were to leave, Earl (the weedy looking fellow) had a small chat with them, "now gentlemen, I am sending you down the hill with my best men. They have been instructed to kill first and ask questions later so I suggest you cooperate. Behave yourselves and you will be well treated. I am going to give you back your weapons, as you may need to defend yourselves on the way down. There are scary things about. Once you get out of the mountains, you will meet up with our contact and he will take you from there. Any questions?"

Tristan asked, "what exactly do you get out of this?"

"I will answer that just because I feel in a chatty sort of mood," said Earl. "I get to keep any valuable trinkets my 'guests' might have in their possession and for every sturdy gentleman I turn over to my contact I get a nice 'finder's fee' if you get my meaning. Now off with you and remember to be good boys!" he laughed as two men came and escorted them to their horses. Their weapons were returned and they were allowed to ride as long as they cooperated, otherwise they would be forced to walk behind the riding men with a loop of rope binding their hands and held by the rider ahead of them. They wisely chose to cooperate.

It took several days to ride down out of the forested slopes. One night in camp, Pallin quietly asked Tristan, "how are we going to escape?"

"We are not," Tristan replied, "we were sent to find whatever evil is stirring in the West. This may be the quickest way to find it."

Pallin looked at him nervously but had to trust his judgment and no more was said of escape. Nothing very eventful happened during the journey out of the mountains. Once they finally reached level ground, they traveled for half a day and came to a very small village. At the tiny inn, two of the bandits and their captives went inside. Within, sat a huge man at a tiny table. "Hector!" said he, "I see you have brought me two fine specimens."

"That we did sir," said one of the bandits, "both can stay on a horse and will not accidentally stab himself with his sword."

"Good, good!" smiled the large man.

"The older one even claims to have been a captain or some such," said Hector.

"Really?" said the man, "I will give you the regular price for the boy and twice that for the other."

"Earl says not to take less than three times the price for the older and double for the younger as they are both experienced," said Hector.

"Do they have horses?" asked the large man.

"Yes, two look like war horses if I have ever seen a charger and two pack animals," said Hector.

"You drive a hard bargain my friend, but I will give you one and a half for the younger and two and a half for the older; you keep the pack horses and I will take the chargers. Otherwise you might as well keep them all," said the man.

"It is a deal," said Hector. The large man motioned and a stubby secretary appeared with a chest of coins. Hector double counted it and seemed happy, "they are all yours sir."

"Keep'em coming Hector, keep'em coming," laughed the huge man. "Take a seat gentlemen," said the large man to Tristan and Pallin after Hector had left. They sat across the table from their new owner.

"My name is Rolf and I am a Captain in her majesty's service," said the large man, "I am the one who is going to decide what course your life takes from here on out so I suggest you cooperate." Tristan and Pallin nodded their agreement. "Very well," Rolf continued, "is what Hector said true?"

Tristan spoke, "yes Captain. Our horses are war-trained though they will never bear any riders but us. I was once a Captain in a military unit but resigned my commission some months ago. The boy has had some training with weapons and is a promising young soldier."

"Good," said Rolf, "the way this works is you will be evaluated on your martial skills and then assigned to further training or to active duty in one of her majesty's military units. You will receive pay, uniforms, equipment, food, and housing. In exchange, you will obey orders and do as you are told. If you disobey, you will be sent to the slave mines to quarry rock for the rest of your miserable days, if we do not just kill you on the spot. The length of your service will depend on how well you serve, how many men we need, and how long this war lasts."

"Sir," said Tristan, "exactly what war do you speak of?"

"You do not know?" asked Rolf.

"No sir," said Tristan, "we are from the other side of the mountains and this is our first time in these lands."

"Why her majesty is going to war against all the lands beyond the mountains. She hopes to conquer everything between the eastern and western seas. Not all at once of course, but she is truly a woman with a vision," finished Rolf, "now let us eat a light lunch and then I want to see what you can do."

They had a light meal of bread, wine, and cheese and then were allowed to rest for an hour. The unicorns were tied to a tree outside the inn and relaxed visibly when they saw Tristan and Pallin come out. The Captain had them run through a variety of drills to evaluate their skills and what he saw seemed to impress him. He then set about questioning them extensively about military tactics and theory; their knowledge surprised him. "Now," said Rolf, "you two have impressed me greatly with your skills and knowledge. I definitely got the better end of this deal. Things being what they are I think I shall send you both directly on to her Majesty the Queen and her generals can decide what to do with you. It would be a waste to stick either of you in the infantry, which is where most of our 'recruits' end up. But before I send you on your way I am dying to try a quick ride on that magnificent stallion of yours."

"No sir, please," begged Tristan.

"I will give the orders, thank you very much," said Rolf stiffly. Tristan closed his eyes and could not bear to watch. Pallin smiled in anticipation; this was going to be fun. Rolf walked over to Taragon, untied him from the tree, and led him out onto the village green. The beast looked at him suspiciously out of the corner of his eye but stood patiently. Rolf launched himself into the saddle and the minute his weight settled in the seat the great stallion screamed in fury and set to bucking with a ferocity usually reserved for battle. The Captain was on the ground immediately and the unicorn resumed his unflappable calm the second Rolf was unseated. He stood patiently on the grass staring benignly at the fallen Captain. Rolf picked himself up and walked painfully back to where Tristan and Pallin stood. Pallin was trying very hard not to laugh. "Yes," said Rolf, "you might as well eat supper and then retire. You leave early in the morning for Capithia." The little secretary magically appeared and led them to their room.

Capithia was the capital city of Westria: the country that covered all the land between the mountains and the sea. Westria's Queen had once been content simply to rule her own country, but some years ago, a shady little man had washed up on the shore, apparently the victim of a shipwreck. Some local fishermen found him and nursed him back to health. Over the next few years he worked his way into the very highest levels of the government to become the Queen's most powerful advisor. It was he who had convinced her that it was her destiny to conquer all the lands between the Eastern and Western Seas. Some feared he had too much sway over the Queen, but many of the more vociferous objectors had quietly disappeared; the rest were too frightened to say anything upon the matter. Now she was mustering an army to fulfill her so called destiny and at the current rate, she would soon bankrupt her country. This would then force her to go to war in hopes of conquering other lands thus enabling her to bankroll her war effort. Every able-bodied man available was being begged, bribed, or shanghaied into the military. Tristan and Pallin were just the latest victims. Had they simply walked into Westria as free men, they very soon would have found themselves in a similar situation. At least this way they found themselves immediately en route to Capithia and the heart of the matter.

### Chapter 10

Early the next morning, the secretary woke them, they ate breakfast, donned their new uniforms, and were soon on their way to the captial. Rolf was staying behind to collect more 'recruits,' but there were about a dozen men besides Tristan and Pallin that would be traveling to Capithia on various errands. The two men were given into the custody of a young Captain named Martog; he was also given a letter regarding the two new recruits addressed to Queen Almiria. Tristan and Pallin rode in the center of the column, just in case they decided to make a run for it. The journey to Capithia was rather unremarkable. They traveled along a well-kept road running north to south that wound through flat farmland and tame woodlands. There were many villages and small towns along the way. It was a prosperous, though heavily oppressed country. The only men they saw were young boys, grey beards, or cripples. Everywhere it was the women, the children, and the elderly who worked the fields or ran the inns. Nowhere did they see a grown, healthy man save in the uniform of the Westrian Army. After a week's ride, they arrived in Capithia. Martog rode ahead and two junior officers rode behind Tristan and Pallin; the other men dispersed on business of their own. They rode through the streets of what seemed a vast city until they finally reach the castle itself. The guards at the gate stopped them, read Martog's orders, and then told them to wait in the courtyard while a guard was sent running with Rolf's letter. An hour later, an important looking man in a general's uniform approached the group.

"Thank you Martog, I will take them from here," said the general. The three soldiers bowed and left the courtyard. The general turned to face Tristan and Pallin. "Let us go inside and find somewhere to talk," said the general. Grooms came running for the horses. Tristan and Pallin followed the general into the castle.

They found themselves very shortly in a small sitting room beside a roaring fire. Once the wine had been poured, the general dismissed the servants and faced his guests. "From Rolf's letter I hear that you are foreigners from beyond the mountains, but that you also possess superior military skill and knowledge," said the general.

"Yes sir," replied Tristan, "we come from beyond the mountains and we have some military acumen."

"What did you hope to accomplish by crossing the mountains?" asked the general. "We hoped to learn more of your country and discover for ourselves which of the many rumors about this land are true and which are not," said Tristan.

"And you had no idea we were preparing for war?" asked the general.

"None sir," said Tristan.

"What do you know of the lands beyond the mountains?" asked the general.

"In what way sir?" asked Tristan.

"Her majesty and her advisors know little of the lands they hope to conquer," he said, "and any information you may have would be of vital importance."

"I have traveled throughout much of the civilized and not so civilized territory east of the mountains, but whether my experience is of use only you would know," replied Tristan.

"We have contacts within your lands, but communication is tricky and slow at best," replied the general, "but a first hand account by someone who is familiar with all that is happening east of the mountains would be immensely helpful. Her majesty hopes that perhaps you and your companion would be able to serve her as Advisors on foreign affairs."

"You ask me to betray my people and my home?" asked Tristan.

"Not to betray," said the general, "but to advise her Majesty on all sorts of mundane matters in the eastern lands. You might actually be doing them a great service. Whether the Queen decides to go to war or not may depend on your council." He glanced around anxiously at the empty room, "there are those amongst her closest advisors that do not wish to go forward with this action. We fear it is already beggaring our country and if it does not succeed we may never recover. I myself do not completely understand why the Queen ever thought this a wise course to take. I and many others hope you may convince her otherwise." Tristan stared at the man in disbelief; he was now responsible for stopping this war?

The general had risked everything in telling the strangers what he had, but he felt it was the only way to stop this ill-advised assault. For some reason, he felt he could trust them, though he had hardly known them for more than half an hour. If anyone found out his true feelings on the matter his life would be forfeit. The Queen truly needed their advice and insight on the eastern lands even if they did not manage to talk her out of the war. "Gentlemen," said the general, "you must know that if you refuse you will be sent to the frontlines eventually and instead of just advising her Majesty you will either fight your fellow countrymen or die for refusing. You can do all of us a great service by ending this conflict before it begins. I have also placed my life on the line in telling you what I have. I am loyal to my Queen, and the only reason I speak so is that I do not think this war is in the best interests of her or Westria."

Tristan decided to risk everything just as the general had. "Sir," he said, "we are members of the Brethren and have been sent across the mountains to discover what great evil is stirring in the west. This war of yours must be the great evil we have been warned about. I fear there are darker forces at work here. It is our duty to discover who or what is fomenting discord and put a stop to it. We will do everything in our power to assist you in stopping this war."

The general was speechless for a long moment and said, "the Brethren? I have heard of such a group. Several years ago, two of them crossed the mountains and appeared in our land. They spoke many words of wisdom and the people were encouraged by what they heard. The Queen allowed them to travel about and speak as they wished, and even had them brought before the court on several occasions to share their knowledge and insight. When Visca rose to power and became second only to the Queen in authority, he had them arrested for traitorous talk and arousing discontent among the populous. I do not know what fate befell them after that. I believe you are honorable men and I will do what I can to assist you. I am curious however; Rolf said a military uniform was found amongst your belongings. To what unit did you belong?"

Tristan exchanged glances with Pallin and began, "it is a long story sir, but the short version is this. Before my assignment to cross the mountains and find the evil lurking in your country I was assigned by the Lady to join the Order of the Unicorn and ferret out what they were up to. The Order is a paramilitary unit that holds allegiance to itself alone. For centuries, they have been a bother and a pest to the Brethren and everyone else. The Lady wanted to know what they were up to and I was chosen to find out. That is the uniform they found amongst my baggage. I do not know why I was to bring it, but I felt that I should."

The general smiled as an idea crossed his mind. "This Order of the Unicorn is well known to us," he said, "in fact they are the 'contacts' I was speaking of earlier. It is through this group the Queen, or more correctly Visca, hopes to ease our transition into ruling all the lands between the eastern and western seas." Tristan nodded in comprehension; it fit in perfectly with the Order's plans to take control of the known world. How else could Westria hope to conquer and control so much territory without some sort of local control in place? It was still insane, but it made a bit more sense.

"What are you plotting, if I may ask?" said Tristan.

"You will see very soon," said the general. They sat up talking long into the night.

Tristan was not sure he liked this plan, but then he had not enjoyed much of this adventure since they crossed the mountains either. Once again, he found himself in the full uniform of the Order; apparently even near death could not separate him from the cursed thing. He was to present himself to her Majesty as an envoy from the Order, sent to advise the Queen on current happenings east of the mountains. Pallin was to be his faithful squire. The Queen was delighted to have such knowledge and experience close to hand. That morning they found themselves in her breakfast parlor and General Trent was making the introductions.

"I am very happy to see you Captain," said the Queen to Tristan, "it has been long since we had any word from beyond the mountains. How go the plans for the war?"

"My Lady," said Tristan, "I am a mere captain and was never told more than I absolutely had to know. But may it cheer your heart to know that the Order is recruiting heavily and plans to greatly expand its current influence over the next several years."

"Several years?" asked the Queen in dismay, "I had hoped things were moving much more quickly than that."

"Your Majesty, if things were to move more quickly people might become suspicious and take a closer look at the Order and discover that which we are trying to hide. Progress must be made gradually so as not to arouse suspicion. Not to mention the fact that it takes time and significant resources to mount such an effort; the Order can only move forward so fast with the resources it currently has available."

"You may not know all the details Captain, but your answers are well thought out and informed," she said. Tristan bowed in acknowledgement. "Perhaps you came in the nick of time," she continued, "General Trent, what is the current status of the army and the country?"

"My Lady," he said, "the army is growing daily, but the country suffers under the loss of so many able-bodied men. I fear we must either strike swiftly or our economy will collapse."

The Queen looked gravely at her general, "are there no other options?"

"We could return the men to their shops and fields, postpone the war until our allies in the east are ready," he replied.

"I had no idea our timetable was so skewed," she said, "Captain your counsel is not what I had hoped but perhaps it has averted disaster. General, you will write orders to all your commanders. The new recruits are to be allowed to return home, but they must remain on alert to move out at a moment's notice. The regular soldiers are to be dispersed throughout the country and assigned areas in which they will oversee the continued training and supply of the reserves."

"It will be done at once your Majesty," the General bowed and left the room at a run. Tristan wondered at the ease with which he had at least postponed the war.

"Lord Visca," announced a servant as a tall, dark man robed all in black entered the room. The Queen seemed entranced by his very presence. He approached her, bowed, and kissed her proffered hand. He scowled at Tristan and Pallin.

"My Lady," he began, "who are these intruders that dare disturb your meal?"

The Queen mechanically replied, "they come from east of the mountains and are here to counsel me in foreign matters."

"And what have they told you?" he asked.

She replied, "that the Order will not be ready to carry out their part of the plan for at least a few years."

"And what is your response?" asked the man.

"Our country is on the brink of ruin. I have sent the farmers home, but have arranged matters so that they can be recalled and deployed at once," said she.

"I see," said the man irritably. "It was probably done for the best your Highness," he said, "but next time may I advise you to seek my counsel before making such an important decision as this?" She nodded like a contrite child; Tristan thought she might cry. Visca turned his attention to Tristan, "I would advise you to speak to me on all such matters before bothering her Majesty with such trifling details. They weary her excessively and I will pass on anything she needs to know."

"I understand sir," said Tristan. Visca seemed to float out of the room and they were left alone with the Queen. The Queen seemed to start, as if she had caught herself daydreaming.

"Visca is my greatest advisor," said the Queen, "though every time we meet he always leaves me weary. I thank you for your advice, but now I must rest. Good day." They bowed themselves out of the room and a servant escorted them back to their quarters.

After Visca left the Queen, he headed straight to his own chambers in the shadowy depths of the castle. This sudden change of plans was regrettable but nothing serious; he would have things moving again very soon. His masters would not be pleased but that could not be helped for the moment. He did not like this new advisor to the Queen. How did one so new to Westria have such influence so soon? After all his work, the last thing he needed was interference from these outlanders. He had specifically told the Order not to send an envoy; he wanted to be the Queen's only source of foreign intelligence. The man's uniform was real and so was his knowledge of current affairs within the Order, but there was still something he did not trust about him. If he had this much influence over the Queen and had only known her for half an hour, he could become a real problem. The Order had been told to keep out of this; it was their own fault if they lost one of their agents. He entered his chambers with these thoughts coursing through his head. The room was dark, lit only by a guttering candle. "The Queen's new advisor needs to disappear. See to it," Visca said to the darkness. There was movement in the far corner of the room, a shadow ghosted by the candle, the door opened briefly, and then Visca was alone. With that out of the way, he began thinking about how best to deal with the sudden change in his plans for war.

Tristan and Pallin returned to their rooms briefly to discuss what had passed during their first audience with the Queen, "she seems an intelligent woman," said Tristan when they were alone. "She heard our advice and acted wisely. I just do not understand where this crazy idea to conquer the world comes from. Westria is far from strong enough to conquer so much territory, even with the help of the Order. It would be chaos!"

"She certainly changed when that Visca character came into the room," said Pallin.

"Yes," said Tristan thoughtfully, "the man radiates evil like heat off a stove. There has to be more to him than we have heard. He certainly thinks he runs things around here. No ruler in her right mind would allow her advisors to speak to her as the Queen did today. She should have the man's head on a pike! There is some evil at work here, but I do not know how to prove it or stop it." They talked for some time as to the best way to handle Lord Visca but could come up with nothing useful. A knock on the door ended their conference. A servant summoned them to attend the Queen. They followed the servant out of the room and into the hallway. For some time he led them silently on a long and winding path through the castle. Once they were thoroughly lost and seemed to be in a part of the castle no one had dusted in about a century Tristan asked, "are you lost?"

"No," said the servant blandly, "but you are." He took off at a run and disappeared into the darkness (there were very few lamps and no windows in this part of the castle).

Tristan and Pallin exchanged a startled look and turned silently to retrace their steps. As they turned, each felt the darkness grow heavier and an oppressive weight seized their hearts. Lesser men would have fled or fell to their faces in fear, but they drew their swords, ready to face the nightmare that approached.

"You do not cower before me?" asked a scratchy voice. "At last a worthy foe," it hissed in pleasure. Their opponent seemed to be a darker part of the blackness about them. It was about the size of a tall man, but that was the only impression they could get, unable to define its shape or any other feature about it. Tristan caught the flicker of light on steel as the thing raised its weapon and set themselves for its first attack. It lunged, Tristan dodged and blocked its blade. Pallin cut in and drove it back. It hissed either in frustration or delight, no one was sure which as it plunged in again. The thing was a good swordsman, but no match for two equally good men unaffected by the aura of fear it projected. It had overestimated its ability and underestimated theirs. It was soon over and their foe lay prone on the stony floor.

Tristan used his sword to move the black hood off its face. The thing was a man at least, though draped in a shapeless black cloth that blended perfectly into the darkness. He no longer radiated fear; the aura of terror had disappeared as soon as the fatal blow was struck. A rent in the man's sleeve revealed a dark marking on his shoulder. Tristan used his sword to expand the tear and exposed a snarling, black reptilian head tattooed on the man's left shoulder. Neither man knew if it had any significance. Before they could explore further, the man dissolved into an oily, smoking stain on the floor. Tristan pulled back in disgust and ordered Pallin to immediately clean his blade, Tristan did the same. Both walked quickly away from the macabre scene and went in search of General Trent.

Eventually they found General Trent's chambers and thankfully, he was within. He listened in fascinated horror as they described their encounter with Visca and the assassin. Trent said, "the Queen was much more herself today than I have seen her in a long while. I was greatly encouraged by her change in attitude and her decision to at least postpone this war. But your description of her behavior in Visca's presence sounds more like her usual demeanor of late. I wonder if she has not fallen afoul of some vile spell of Visca's making." Tristan and Pallin nodded, it was the only theory that seemed to fit the facts. Trent continued, "you have certainly drawn the attention of someone and we need not guess who. I wonder if this is not the same way several other of the Queen's advisers disappeared. But I know nothing of this man or his tattoo. Visca is involved in far deeper evils than I ever imagined, but how do we prove it and remove his influence from the Queen?"

"You said the Queen was much more herself in our presence than she has been for some time?" asked Tristan.

"Yes," said Trent, "most of the time she seems almost asleep and only parrots Visca's words or answers his questions as if she were a child."

"What if there is some virtue or power in our presence that drives away Visca's influence, at least when he is not present?" asked Tristan.

"I do not understand," said Trent.

"When someone takes the Oath to become one of the Brethren they are imbued with certain gifts, one of which seems to be a certain resistance to the influence of evil, such as we experienced with the assassin. What if we could somehow amplify that effect?" said Tristan. "General," he continued, "would you let us bring a horse into the castle?" The general stared at Tristan as if he had gone mad.

### Chapter 11

"You have perhaps heard rumors that the Brethren do not ride ordinary horses?" asked Tristan. The general looked at Tristan without comprehension. Tristan continued, "we have with us two unicorns, and they are currently living in your stables in the guise of normal horses. If we can sneak one into a closet or adjacent room to where the Queen is meeting with her advisers perhaps the unicorn's presence will ward the Queen from Visca's spells even in his presence. If so, perhaps Visca will convict himself when his spells fail. If not, the only thing we risk is having to explain why we stuffed a horse into the closet. It is just a theory but it is all we have." The others thought it was worth a try and immediately began plotting how to smuggle a horse into the castle.

The Queen was to meet with her advisers, nobles, and generals that evening in a small audience chamber in the North wing of the castle. Just off this chamber was a small room used to conceal servants until called upon to provide refreshments for the gathered company. The Queen's throne was against the wall dividing the smaller room from the rest of the chamber. Even more importantly, the small room had a door that opened on a flight of stairs which led to a hall that connected it to the kitchens, but at the bottom of the stairs was a door leading out into the courtyard. It was a perfect location for their experiment if they could just get the unicorn out of the stable, across the courtyard, and in the door without being seen.

Several hours before the appointed meeting, Pallin (dressed as a common laborer) went to the stables and hitched up the carthorse which pulled the refuse wagon; Pallin led him to the infamous door and parked the wagon in front of it. He then spent the next hour hauling garbage from the kitchen to the wagon. Nobody looked twice at a menial doing his job and the door was nicely hidden from view. A short time later, Tristan went to the stable, put a halter on Taragon, and led him out into the courtyard. He walked him over to the refuse cart which appeared to be a rather handy hitching rail; he then made a great show of inspecting his feet, looking in his mouth, checking his eyes, and going over every inch of him. The general just then happened to walk by and caught Tristan up in a rousing conversation. They stood for no little time in front of Taragon in lively discussion. While this was going on, Pallin opened the door and beckoned the stallion inside. The stallion pulled loose the poorly tied rope and quickly followed Pallin inside and up the stairs. Pallin shut him in the little room and told him to be patient. Pallin resumed his trash hauling; Tristan and the general spent another fifteen minutes talking before parting company. Once he had finished his job, Pallin led the carthorse to the refuse pile, unloaded the trash, and returned to his chambers to dress for the meeting.

The three men hoped their 'prank' had not been observed by anyone, but it was the best they could come up with on short notice. They met outside the entrance to the audience chamber shortly before the meeting was to begin. "I hope this works," said the general.

"Me too," replied Tristan. They went into the audience chamber. The Queen was already seated; she looked very relaxed and alert. She smiled at them as they entered. They took their seats facing her. Lord Visca came in shortly thereafter and seemed surprised when he saw Tristan and Pallin alive. He said nothing and took his seat beside the throne. As they waited for the other guests to arrive, he seemed antsy; he was always adjusting the collar of his shirt and squirmed constantly in his chair. He kept glancing nervously about the room and frowning at nothing in particular. Something certainly seemed to bother the man; Tristan hoped it was their equine friend in the next room. Once everyone arrived, the Queen stood and welcomed them to the advising session.

She said, "as many of you are already aware, we have called most of the men back from the staging areas and have allowed them to return to their former trades. It was brought to my attention today that our allies across the mountains are progressing much more slowly than I was aware, Lord Visca?"

"Communication is a dreadful problem between the east and the west, your majesty," said Visca.

"Yes, but intelligence of this nature is too important to blame on communication errors," said she, "I also come to question the very reasons we are going to war in the first place. Have we not troubles enough with our one small country that we need to multiply them by bankrupting our economy and waging open war with a much larger foe? I do not know what I have been thinking, apparently I have not been thinking about much of anything lately. I hereby declare that we are no longer planning to attack and conquer anything larger than our own current budgetary problems."

"But your highness!" whined Visca, "what about your destiny? The glory of Westria?"

The Queen smiled with distaste, "destiny and glory are all very well but they are a poor foundation upon which to base a war. Your advice to me has been troublesome from the start Visca, and I fear you have had too much influence over me and my country, though I do not know why I did not see it sooner. You are hereby relieved of your position and further investigation will be made into your doings over the last few months. I doubt not that you will be found guilty of treason at the least and murder may soon be added to it." The man seemed to panic at his sudden loss of power over the Queen and his abrupt fall from grace.

He leapt to his feet and glared daggers at Tristan and Pallin, "whose advice do you take? These newcomers? How can you trust them over me?"

"I take my own counsel," she said, "something I should have done much sooner than I have."

Tristan stood and addressed the Queen, "your Majesty if I may speak?" She nodded her ascent. "This man has had some sort of evil spell over you for all that we can tell it is now broken," said Tristan, "he also sent a man to kill us this afternoon; I fear this is the same fate that befell any of your outspoken advisors who disagreed with Visca."

"Is this true Visca?" asked the Queen.

Visca, now too angry to stop himself said, "yes it is true, all of it! I only regret my assistant was unable to dispose of these two troublemakers as he did with your missing advisors. Had he succeeded, I would soon be king and this country would be irrevocably at war, but what none of you saw is that conquest was not the ultimate goal. The ultimate goal was to create such chaos in all the lands between the eastern and western seas that my masters could step in and sweep up everything with little, if any resistance. This is a minor setback, an irritation! My masters have been waiting millennia for their final victory and a few more years or decades mean nothing to them. You have won the day but will not win the war." Visca finished his monologue on a very confident and triumphant note.

"The war has already been won," said Tristan softly, "only a few minor skirmishes remain, but evil has lost."

Visca snarled at Tristan, "and I suppose you are one of those thrice cursed Brethren! I thought I had tied up that little loose end very nicely. Your colleagues are such meek little lambs; they offered no resistance when I had them thrown into the deepest dungeon I could find. For all I know, they linger there still. I thought you were a dying breed, hiding your way into extinction."

"A year ago you would have been correct, but the Lady and Master have breathed new life into us," said Tristan calmly.

"Bahhh!" screamed Visca as he ran for the door into the servant's alcove. His yell of astonishment was drowned out by the scream of battle that came from the small room. He had not expected to find a unicorn in the castle, but he recovered himself quickly and darted across the small room and out the door leading to the courtyard. Taragon poked his head around the corner as if asking what to do next.

Tristan bowed to the Queen, "I must stop him your Majesty," and jumped on Taragon's back and bolted down the stairs and out into the night after Visca. The room had been deathly quiet during the whole exchange, but now it broke into chaos as everyone spoke at once. Pallin and General Trent did their best to explain what had just happened.

Visca did not head to the stables, but ran on foot out a side door in the courtyard and out into the dark streets of the city. Tristan followed quickly on Taragon who had resumed his more usual disguise. Visca kept ahead by dashing down alleys and side streets that impeded or blocked a horse completely. Eventually, he found his way out a small gate and into the surrounding countryside. Tristan wondered how he thought he could keep ahead of a rider in open farmland. As he was musing on this, a horrendous shriek rent the night like a knife. A black, bipedal reptile had emerged from the forest and was running to meet Visca in his headlong flight. Its terrible teeth glittered in the night. It had a long snaky neck and tail, much as a dragon's but this creature seemed to possess too small a mind to be of draconian descent. The creature met Visca, who threw himself upon its back, and fled swiftly into the distant woods. Tristan followed in close pursuit. The reptile was fast but nothing could outrun a unicorn.

When it became apparent that flight was futile, Visca pulled up the beast and turned to face Tristan. The thing looked like a terrible foe, but Taragon was impatient to give battle. Tristan let him have his head and cautiously they approached their foe. The pair circled for a few moments sizing each other up and then closed. Both men had their swords out, but it was mainly their mounts that fought each other and tried to injure the opposing rider. The reptile lashed out with teeth, claws (it had small forearms that it could use almost like hands and it could kick with its powerful back legs), and whip like tail. It was a horrible brute to fight and a normal horse would have fled in terror or been torn to shreds. Taragon was no mere horse. He reared up and struck with his deadly front hooves and lashed out with his teeth and horn. Their mounts were moving about so swiftly and erratically as they frantically dodged and struck that the men had little chance to exchange sword blows, but each could occasionally strike at the other's mount. During the melee, one of Taragon's front hooves came down on the creature's breast collar smashing a milky-red crystal on its harness. The crystal shattered and the creature roared in confusion, backing out of the fight. Tristan held Taragon back from reengaging the thing. The monster started to shake and buck and claw at its own saddle. Visca was terrified. The reptile soon turned its attention from the harness to the rider; it had gone mad or feral. The crystal must have had some calming and controlling influence over what little mind the creature had; with the crystal destroyed it had reverted to its wild state and it did not like having a rider. Visca stood little chance against those terrible teeth and horrible claws. The thing moved too fast for Tristan to intervene. The creature flung down what was left of Visca, roared at the unicorn, and fled into the night. Tristan gave chase, if only to keep the feral monster from attacking anyone else. Without a rider, it was a much easier target and was quickly dispatched. He rode back to the castle with more questions than answers.

The gate guards were not quite sure what to do when Tristan rode through the gate dragging the dead monster; they wisely chose to leave well enough alone. He left the brute in the courtyard, not sure why he brought the thing back but it might tell them something useful. He returned to the small audience chamber and found everyone had resumed some semblance of calm. He told of the chase, the strange creature, and the ensuing fight. Some hardly believed him until they glanced out the window and saw the dead beast in the center of the courtyard.

"Has anyone been sent to search Visca's quarters?" asked Tristan. No one moved or answered. "We had better have a look," said he as he left the room with Pallin, the Queen, and half a dozen advisors and minor lords in tow. Tristan turned to the Queen, "is it possible to have a search of the dungeons made? If my colleagues are there, they must be freed."

The Queen told off four of the others to go and make a search of the dungeons, and the rest of the small party went into the lord's dreary chambers. Tristan went in first, sword bared; Pallin came behind with his sword out and carrying a torch. Nothing moved or stirred in the darkness. The others came in carrying several more torches. They made a thorough search of all the rooms, making sure there were no surprises in the darkness. They then set about ransacking Visca's few personal belongings hoping to find some clue as to what he had been up to. They discovered his favorite (and only) color of clothing was black, and he was not particularly fond of dusting. Otherwise, their search turned up nothing. In the very back of the apartments was a dusty little closet with a very ugly picture sitting on the floor by the wall. The picture had once hung on the wall and behind it was a small alcove, though it was currently empty. Whatever had been there had vanished.

"The servant!" said Tristan in comprehension. "I had forgotten about the servant that led us into the bowels of the castle for an ambush," said Tristan, "he must have been in league with Visca and the assassin. He must have figured out what we were up to, sacked Visca's quarters, and fled." The Queen dispatched the remaining two lords to fetch the guards and to have the gate guards alerted. It was a pointless gesture, but she felt she had to do something.

They never found the servant or the pilfered items, but the search of the dungeons revealed two skinny and hairy but very much alive men. Tristan embraced his very dirty Brothers. They had never been so happy to see anyone. They bowed to the Queen and apologized for their lack of proper attire. She smiled and said it was quite all right. They were soon cleaned up, shaven, and dressed in something better than their prison rags. Tristan updated them on the goings on in the world since they had disappeared two years ago. They were distressed to hear of Visca's treachery and wondered as much as Tristan did about what these strange events portended. Was it possible that there was some evil twin to the Brethren? Visca had spoken of 'his masters' and the assassin's tattoo bore a striking resemblance to Visca's vile mount. There was also the strange aura of fear about the assassin and Visca's influence over the Queen to consider. Everything suggested some evil brotherhood steeped in dark magic; the thought sent a chill down the backs of all present. The Lady must be informed of this immediately if such a thing existed. The two skinny Brethren expressed a wish to see the Lady again, but felt that it would be some time before they could travel.

The Queen then asked if they would stay, at least temporarily as her advisors. They bowed in delight. Tristan and Pallin would leave immediately to inform the Lady of what was passing in the West. Before they left, Tristan took the broken crystal breastplate off the creature and put it in a sack to take along. It was the only clue they had. The two freed Brethren stared at the creature in disgust. As they stood watching Tristan, a furor in the stable drew everyone's attention. The placid old cart pony had broken out of his stall and was making a beeline for the little group gathered around the dead monster. One of the Brethren cried out in delight and ran to embrace the shaggy creature. He had thought his unicorn dead, killed at the time of their arrest as he had seen the other unicorn fall, but here he was all this time posing as a carthorse just to stay close to his master. At least some good had come of this night.

All went to bed to find what sleep they could. Tristan planned to get an early start, but first he had a question for the Queen. "Your majesty," he said, "have you any dragons in this land?"

The Queen gave him a queer look, not expecting such a question but said, "rumor has it that an old green dragon still lives in the hill country at the base of the mountains. Do you have an urge to slay such a beast?"

Tristan laughed, "no majesty, I have found certain dragons to be very skilled masters of lore, if a bit eccentric. I was hoping to inquire about anything they may know about this shadowy brotherhood or their strange riding beasts." The Queen nodded in comprehension. She provided them with provisions, maps, and what advice she could give. She also sent soldiers to root out the bandits and other scofflaws that hindered travel between east and west, and to put an end to the vile trade in human souls. No more would anyone be conscripted or enslaved in her lands. Visca had instituted such practices without her knowing and now she was left to clean up his treachery. She wished them well as they rode out of the courtyard and said, "your counsel and presence will be much missed and you will always have an honored place among my closest advisors. May the Master ride with you! Farewell!"

They made for the hill country in hopes of finding the fabled dragon and his much-needed counsel. After much riding, they came to the foot of the mountains and a wide band of hills that stretched far into the distance. It was a pleasant country of rolling hills, scattered trees, and chattering brooks. They stopped at the inn in a small village, which according to their map was the last outpost of human civilization on the brink of the mountain wilderness. The innkeeper welcomed them cordially and tried his best to answer their questions about dragons, but he was a simple man and cared nothing about things beyond the confines of his village. They thanked him for his time and took a seat at a table to wait for their meal. "Dragons did you say?" asked a half-deaf old man.

"Yes, dragons," said Tristan, "we are seeking a green dragon who supposedly resides in the area."

"You cannot go a-slaying our dragon," scowled the old man, "just because you do not understand something does not give you the right to kill it. What did he ever do to you?"

"We did not come to slay your dragon," said Tristan patiently, "we come to ask his advice on a rather important matter."

"Ahhh, then I think I can help you," smiled the old man, "meet me tomorrow at day break outside the inn and I will lead you to him."

"Thank you," said Tristan gratefully. They finished their meal and retired to their beds.

Early the next morning they had the unicorns and packhorses packed and stood patiently waiting for the strange old man. Shortly, he came riding up on a scruffy burro that looked almost as old as his rider. The old man smiled like a lunatic as he led the party deep into the heart of the hills. He had not had an adventure in decades and it felt good to be on a quest again. Half a day brought them to a large hill in whose base yawned a gigantic opening. From the depths of the cave came a great rushing sound as of wind. The little man bellowed at the top of his lungs (which was not very loud), "come out you great scaly beast and speak to these honorable gentlemen."

The snoring stopped abruptly and a large scaly head appeared with a confused look on its face, "what year is it?"

"It is time to wake up and be useful," laughed the old man.

"Bennet?" asked the dragon, "you have gotten very short and wrinkly. Have you been washing in water that is too hot?"

"No you daft old beast, I have just gotten old while you slept your life away," scowled the old man.

"I was in the middle of such a nice long nap," said the dragon, "why did you wake me?"

"I have a couple of gentlemen here that want to ask you a few of questions," said Bennet.

"They actually want my opinion on something?" beamed the dragon. Tristan rolled his eyes hoping this was not a waste of time. The dragon emerged fully from his cave and squatted down excitedly in front of them. "What do you want to know?" he asked gleefully.

"We have just come from the Queen's palace in Westria," began Tristan, "there we encountered an evil man with some ability to control the Queen's decisions. He had a vile associate who tried to kill us and while he lived radiated fear. When the assassin died, he dissolved into a puddle of oily black liquid soon after death. Before he dissolved, we noticed a vicious black reptilian head tattooed on his shoulder. The other man later tried to flee on the back of a similar bipedal, black reptile. It was wearing this (Tristan showed the dragon the breastcollar) and when the crystal broke it seemed to go wild and attacked its master and fled. There was a third man who fled before we could catch him. The man who was advisor to the Queen spoke of 'his masters' and of hoping to cause such chaos in the world that this evil force would easily conquer everything. Do you know anything of such matters?"

The dragon looked thoughtful for a moment and then retreated into his cave. There was the sound of digging and of large objects being moved. The dragon emerged with a book in his claws. The ancient tome was titled: 'An Expose on the Brotherhood of the Serpent.' "I acquired this from a traveling merchant several centuries ago; he said he had found it in the ruins of a castle in some far off and forgotten land," said the dragon, "I never read it as I am far too busy, but it sounds like it may have something to do with these strange men you encountered. Please take it. And if it turns out to be helpful I ask that you come back and tell me the tale." Tristan bowed in thanks; the dragon smiled broadly. He liked being helpful. "Now if you will excuse me I have important business to attend to," he said as he crawled back into his cave and resumed his nap.

"Mortimor is a good dragon, but awfully strange sometimes," laughed the old man, "I hope he helped you in your quest young man."

"He may have just given us a big clue," said Tristan. They thanked the old man for his services and parted ways. The old man headed back to town and Tristan and Pallin headed home. Their second crossing of the mountains was uneventful, as was their journey to Astoria. During their travels, Tristan read through the ancient book. It was written by one Henrophilous Danderman III about a thousand years ago when names were tedious. How it survived in such good condition Tristan did not know, but besides for being a little musty it was in excellent shape. The Brotherhood of the Serpent was a small group of men who had dedicated their lives to the Evil One, much as the Brethren were dedicated to the Master. Through various dark and evil rites, they dedicated their very souls to their vile master. In exchange, they received access to various black spells and other powers. The beasts they rode were mindless creatures that lived beyond the Northern Wilds; through various arcane arts they were able to control the beasts via the crystal in the breast collar and even to control some of the monster's thoughts and actions. The group was formed in the early days of civilization to serve as a foe and a mockery of the Brethren, though the Brethren were apparently unaware of this shadowy nemesis. They were an ancient evil that used their influence to advance the cause of their master, which was total darkness upon the whole face of the world. Unlike the Brethren, they moved about in complete secrecy and did little recruiting or proselytizing. It seemed those with dark and evil hearts instinctively sought out the Brotherhood, even if they did not know what they were initially seeking. Little was known of the hierarchical structure of the group, their numbers, location, or their spells, abilities, and powers. Tristan was surprised the author had even been able to piece together as much as he had. At least he had something to tell the Lady.

They arrived in Astoria as quickly as they could and immediately reported to the Lady. She was heartened to hear of the dissolution of Westria's armies and the discovery of her lost servants. However, she was aghast at the idea that there was a shadowy adversary out there of which they had been unawares for millennia. She thanked them for their good work and told them she must think on these matters and bring them before the Council of Six. She bid them rest from their journey for she might need to send them out again before very long.

Tristan's first order of business after seeing the Lady was to see how Bristol and his 'garrison' were coming along. Bristol was excited to see him again (Pallin retreated to his room, not wishing to deal with the Order more than he had to) and asked many questions about his journey and future plans. They sat alone in a small glade in the woods outside Astoria. "What news of the Order?" asked Tristan.

"Not much to tell," replied Bristol, "they continue their push to recruit as many able men as they can. They are pleased with the success of our 'garrison' here and wish to expand it if possible, and they especially long to wrench it free of the Lady's influence. They have written once or twice hoping you will reconsider your resignation. They are desperate for skilled and competent leadership with all these new recruits coming in." Bristol smiled hopefully.

"What I do next depends on the Lady; my allegiance is first to her and the Brethren. All other relationships must come after," replied Tristan. Bristol nodded in understanding.

"The few months I have been here I have been watching the doings of the Brethren, they are quite a remarkable people. I almost wish I had joined them instead of the Order," said Bristol.

"Why not join them?" asked Tristan.

"I am a sworn member of the Order," said Bristol, "I cannot go back on my oath."

"No one said you had to," said Tristan, "I am sworn to the Brethren, but that did not make me any less a member of the Order. My first allegiance is to the Lady, but that does not mean I am trying to undercut or damage the Order," said Tristan, "if the Order and the Brethren disagree, it is because the former is corrupted and must be set right. Fixing something that is broken is not treason. By having a positive influence on a few of the men in the Order I hope it has made it a better organization, if only slightly. The Order could do much good in the world if only it lost its self-serving and power-hungry nature." Bristol nodded thoughtfully but said no more on the subject. "What of 'your' men?" asked Tristan.

The young men he had left in Bristol's charge were coming along wonderfully. There were even a few others interested in 'joining.' Tristan wondered what effect sending some of these promising young men out into the general population of the Order would have. Could they shake the very foundations of the organization with so few? They talked long about many things, though Tristan said nothing of the happenings in the West save that he had been there, completed some small task, and returned hence. Later Bristol mentioned that an inspector had come from Order headquarters to evaluate the unit; he had been very impressed and hoped more was to come. Brisbane had been assigned such a duty when he had ridden to Astoria for the second time. Of that man little was said, it was still painful for Tristan to think of. He had been sentenced to death according to the laws of the Brethren. Before his execution several of the Brethren, including the Lady herself had tried to speak with him about the course of his life and his impending death. He laughed them all to scorn and died a rebel. The Order was not at all pleased with the situation, but there was little they could do short of storming the keep and rescuing the man. They did not like having the laws of a country override their own. They felt themselves subject to no one but themselves; Tristan felt this was their greatest weakness. Everyone must be subject to some higher standard or tyranny erupts.

Pallin was reunited with his old friends of the 'garrison' and told them of his adventures west of the mountains (at least what he was allowed to tell). The others longed to go out into the world and try their hand at adventuring; they grew restless without an assigned duty. Day after day of drilling, practice, and patrolling grew tedious. The Lady knew of their growing restlessness and thought soon they should be sent 'back' to the Order to see what influence they could have there. Since Westria's plans of conquest had fallen through there was no telling what would become of the rapidly multiplying Order. As the Order had also been involved to some degree in the Westrian plot, perhaps there was some link between them and this mysterious Brotherhood. She would alert all of the Brethren abroad in the world to the presence of this sinister group and ask them to let her know immediately if they noticed anything odd. Again, she must send Tristan out into the world in search of the truth. She planned to send him and the five 'garrison' boys back to the Order. Pallin could go if he wished, but she feared it would not be a good experience for him.

Tristan received the Lady's news with little surprise. He suspected he would end up back in the Order again once he discovered their ties with Westria. It was the only starting point they had in trying to track down the Brotherhood. His only consolation in hunting down a hidden enemy was that they seemed unable to tell one of the Brethren from anyone else although the Brethren could feel a certain evil about persons involved with the Brotherhood. Thinking back, he had felt an 'evilness' about the servant when he led them into the trap in Westria, though at the time he had felt it was just his nerves, the dankness of their path, and his encounter with Visca. At least he had that much advantage. He wondered whither the servant had fled and what he was up to; if he was lurking about the Order his cover would be destroyed for good. Tristan wrote to the Order saying he had recovered enough from the attack that he felt able to competently continue his service to the Order if they wished to have him back. He also noted how antsy the young men of the 'garrison' were getting and that he would like to bring them back with him. A new group of promising locals had been identified and Bristol felt they would make an adequate replacement for the men he was losing. He also wrote that the garrison was now fully under Bristol's command and would not be hindered by direct interference from the Lady as long as they abided by Astorian law. Since Bristol had taken the Oath and was now under the Lady's command, she was still in control of things, if indirectly. The Order seemed content and even pleased with the turn of events and gladly welcomed Tristan back into the fold. He was to report to Panmycea immediately with the five men from the garrison before further deployment. Pallin, who opted not to join the Order stayed behind but bid Tristan a fond farewell as they mounted up and rode away.

### Chapter 12

It was bittersweet to be reunited with the men he had been training the night of the 'incident,' and quite strange to think that less than a year ago these boys had been parasitizing a village and perhaps planning greater crimes. But here they were going off to infiltrate one of the strongest military forces in the world; life often turned in directions one never expected, but that is what keeps it from ever getting dull. His life was certainly exciting enough for anyone; Taragon's snort implied that that was an understatement. Sometimes it was exasperating having a mount that could think for himself. Tristan wondered how the other unicorns would take their undercover duty; most seemed intrigued by the idea. One had insisted that she appear as a swaybacked mule until her rider pointed out that she would be thought an unsuitable mount for a soldier and sent to pull cartloads of stone at the nearest quarry. She had quickly changed her appearance to something far more suitable.

They stopped at the inn at Waymeet one night; it had not changed much at all. The innkeeper did not recognize Tristan; there had been a hundred other men about the last time he was there. He was more than happy to serve six upstanding gentlemen like themselves, even if they did wear Order uniforms. He was sure to be very happy when they settled their bill come morning. Their uniforms reminded him of that brouhaha last fall when all those men had gathered hoping to join the Order; he regaled them with stories of how well the local lads had done and the grand things they must be doing in the world. But he himself was happy to remain the ever-exalted innkeeper of Waymeet, especially since his ale was the best in the whole world (at least according to some Lord or Knight); they could not ignore such a hint and kindly sampled his mediocre brew. He beamed with delight at their comments of, "it has been long since I tasted such a flavor," and "I cannot find words to describe it." The man's pride was satisfied without anyone having to have told a lie. It was a delicate moment.

In the morning, they set off again and after some days arrived in Panmycea without incident. The boys gawked about them at the city and the immensity of the Citadel; many having never seen anything grander than the humble castle of Astoria. One of the gate guards saluted more enthusiastically than necessary. Tristan smiled and returned the salute, recognizing Brenner, one of the men from his original unit; it was good to see a familiar face. Although he had been here once, the Citadel was anything but a familiar and welcome sight. The whole thing reeked of power and greed; he missed the more comfortable amiability felt in Astoria. That was one thing he hoped to change. They rode up to the Citadel where Tristan presented his orders and a servant was sent to find whoever was expecting them. Half an hour passed before a man in a Colonel's uniform approached.

It was Karly. "Good day gentlemen," said he, "I hope your journey was uneventful." They nodded, as the beer tasting had been the most exciting incident on the journey. "Good," he continued, "please follow me." They dismounted and handed their reins to the assembled grooms and followed the Colonel deep into the castle. "Your men will be billeted here," said Karly pointing to a door along one wall. "Tomorrow," he continued, "you will be drilled in what you know and then appointed a post suiting your talents. I suggest you get some rest, for tomorrow will be a busy day." They bowed goodnight to the two officers.

Karly and Tristan continued to the colonel's chambers where they could speak privately. "You have had some adventures since last we met," began Karly.

"Yes sir," said Tristan.

"You are fully confident in your abilities and are ready to reenlist?" asked Karly.

"Yes sir, I would not have come back if I was not sure I was ready," said Tristan.

"Good," said Karly, "you have done a superb job in Astoria, the High Council is pleased. We were very sorry to hear of your encounter with Brisbane, but you have suffered no lasting effects?"

"Only emotional strain sir, and that has passed," said Tristan.

"If your men are as skilled as we suspect they are, most of them will be assigned to lead a training unit after the next recruiting session," said Karly.

"That would suit them well sir," said Tristan with a proud smile, "they have been restless to do something 'productive' of late." They both laughed at such youthful enthusiasm and ignorance; eventually they would learn to appreciate a warm bed and hot meal after a dearth of both while on campaign.

"We have a special mission for you," said Karly. Tristan listened intently. Karly continued, "I and several other high-ranking officers fear there is an evil influence lurking behind the fair façade of the Order. Men like Brisbane are becoming all too common, and regrettably the results are often deadly. Rage and anger are allowed to show where once they were under strict control. Patrols in the field are taking far too much advantage of the locals. Some glory seeking is expected in an organization such as this, but it has become the rule rather than the exception. A patrol will ride into a village and expect to be given whatever they want, including time alone with some of the young women. Our military precision is breaking down and our reputation has become black where once it was only tarnished. Part of it is our intense recruiting efforts, we just do not have the number and quality of officers needed to control such a mass of raw recruits. But there is more than a simple lack of discipline to blame. I have seen the men you have trained and there is something fundamentally different about them. They care about others and do not expect the world to be handed to them on a platter. If half our men were like that this organization could change the world, but as it is, we may soon find ourselves the targets of every peasant and king we have scorned. Unless things change drastically, the Order will soon implode and who knows what will emerge from the wreckage? Your job is to ferret out where this lackadaisical and impetuous attitude comes from and stop it." Tristan stared at him as if he had asked him to climb a tall tree and catch the sun in a butterfly net.

"I know it seems an impossible task," continued Karly, "we cannot even nail down this 'feeling' or whatever it is some of us have. We are sending you out hunting an enemy and we are not even sure it exists. It is a feeling of evil and disdain that hums in the background of everything the Order does. I cannot explain it, but things have progressed to the point where many of us wonder how we arrived in such a place. Some among the High Council are concerned enough to talk to others of like mind in private, but no one dares bring it before the Master of the Council, he seems oblivious to the problem. All I can tell you is that these are disturbing times within the Order and without. Your mission must remain secret, you may report to me or to Captain Frey. Your official position will be as my Secretary, which means you may go wherever you like and do whatever you want as long as others believe it is on my orders. I am entrusting you with much Captain, but you have proven yourself capable and you are the only man I can fully trust."

Tristan left Karly's chambers that night very confused; he had no idea where he was supposed to even begin. It was heartening that the Order was beginning to realize how far it had strayed from its own inexact standards of order and discipline and was trying to do something about it, even if only in secret. It was strange how his mission from the Lady and Karly correlated so well. But then, evil was stirring everywhere and no sensible person would want it to continue unabated within their sphere of influence. Tristan retired to his quarters and slept little that night as his mind constantly darted after unseen enemies just beyond sight.

The next morning he was summoned to Captain Frey for a briefing. Frey was an older man but there was wisdom and humor written in his lined face. "Greetings Captain," said Frey, "you have been briefed by Colonel Karly?"

"Yes sir," said Tristan, "though this seems all very vague and ill defined."

"That is the crux of the issue," said Frey, "we are sending you out to catch the monsters under the bed and we are not even sure there are any. It could simply be a bunch of old campaigners starting to jump at shadows and mice, but too many of us have felt...well, wrong about recent events within the Order. The colonel speaks highly of you thinks you are the only one we can trust with this delicate mission. The rest of us have too much influence and power within the Order, people would notice if we started acting unusual, but you already have a reputation for being a bit odd though very effective. You may be able to pull this off where we cannot. If we need to supply you with men, equipment, or information please do not hesitate to ask and the minute you learn something report it directly to us. Do not send a pigeon and hope the message gets to us unseen by the wrong people. Understood?"

"Yes sir," said Tristan, "do you have any suggestions as to where or how to begin this venture?"

"Actually, I can help you with that at least, but after that you are on your own," said Frey, "there is a patrol that rides a circuit in the Southern Kingdoms. They have a terrible reputation and something needs to be done about them. You may find further leads from them, but be careful, I fear they have a spirit similar to that of Brisbane."

"Do I have the authority to deal with a patrol?" asked Tristan.

"As Karly's secretary you do, but use that power with discretion because you will be held to account for everything you do in his name," said Frey.

"I understand sir," said Tristan.

"Good," said Frey, "now remember to keep this matter secret or all of our heads are forfeit."

Tristan stayed long enough in Panmycea to say farewell to his men; all had been assigned to lead training units in the Northern Wilds. They were well trained and ready to go, but it was still hard to part from them. He would soon ride out to locate this renegade patrol and bring them to heel. He did not much wish to face six Brisbane-like men alone so he took two other men with him. He tapped Brenner and Derkly to accompany him; both had been part of his original training unit and were currently assigned as guards of the Citadel. Karly approved the choice and made sure they had the supplies they would need along with a written order that Tristan had the authority to deal with the patrol as he saw fit. They set out at once for the Southern Kingdoms.

The Southern Kingdoms were some of the largest and most prosperous in the known world. The climate was mild and friendly to a variety of crops and the seas were full of fish. Well over half the world's population lived in the six Southern Kingdoms; trade, education, and the arts flourished in that part of the world. It was the center of human culture and initiative. It had been long since Tristan rode through those pleasant lands and even with his strange mission, he looked forward to seeing them again. His men were happy to be riding again with their old leader, especially as they were getting a little tired of nothing but guard duty. The first few days of their trip were pure joy as they talked of the old days and enjoyed the fine weather of early autumn. As they traveled south, the weather turned wetter and the attitudes of the people they met towards the Order began to grow worse. This was not going to be a picnic after all. According to Tristan's map of the patrol circuit, they should get to one of the patrol's main stopping places in about a week's ride from their current position. They could be anywhere along the patrol route and instead of chasing them down, Tristan meant to wait for them to come to one of their better-known haunts. He also opted to keep his identity and authority a secret until he had observed these men in person. That night, they switched out of their uniforms and put on plain clothes for the remainder of the journey, which at least made them more acceptable company to the people they met.

They finally arrived at The Thistle, a very nice inn on the crossroads of the main roads heading north to south and east to west. For such a comfortable inn at the junction of two well-traveled roads it seemed very empty. The innkeeper explained, "not to dissuade you gentlemen from staying but every couple weeks my poor Thistle becomes the gathering place for a legion of those nefarious men of the Order." Tristan knew the poor woman meant well but he doubted a legion of men rode on this single patrol. He was glad that they remained safely anonymous, at least for now.

"How long until they come again?" asked Tristan.

"They should be here within the week," said the woman dispiritedly.

They took rooms and waited. The plan was to let the patrol come in unhindered, watch their behavior that evening, and then confront them on it very early the next morning. The poor woman said they stayed a day or two before moving on, they never paid their bill, and drove away most of her customers with their behavior. She did not let her serving girls work when the patrol was due. Six days later the patrol arrived. Tristan and his men stationed themselves in an out of the way corner that allowed them a view of the whole room. Most of the locals excused themselves for the evening leaving Tristan's group, the patrol, and one table of seedy looking men alone in the common room. The innkeeper and two boys worked feverishly to meet the demands of the patrol alone. Tristan did not even try to get a refill of ale; the seedy men seemed content with their drinks or they did not dare to order more. Eventually the patrol seemed satisfied with their meal and after a comfortable amount of time for digestion began to glance around the room in hopes of entertainment. Besides the innkeeper, there were no women present and the innkeeper was too old and careworn to be of much interest to any of them. They had to content themselves with less interesting forms of amusement. The table of seedy looking fellows had wandered away as soon as it became apparent the patrol was finishing their meal, which left only Tristan and his two companions to offer relief from the boredom and toil of patrol duty.

"Good day to you gentlemen," said one lanky man as he waddled over looking for trouble. He continued, "I see you have taken a fancy to our inn and as such I think you owe us a song at the least."

"Perhaps a little dance too!" added a short, smirking fellow.

"Shall we have a contest to see who the best dancer is?" asked another fellow. Cheers erupted all around.

"Dancing and singing it shall be then," announced the lanky man, "and you had best do a good job else we may have to do things you will regret." Bets were placed as to which of the three would do the best (and worst) job. Their captain would act as judge. A large, heavy table was rolled out into the middle of the room and one by one each of the three men was made to stand up and sing and dance to the best of his ability. Tristan had good reflexes but a very poor voice. Brenner could sing very well but could not dance to save his life (which may very well be the case in this contest). Derkly excelled at neither singing nor dancing. The patrol was not impressed with anyone's performance and refrained from having another round in favor of several hours' worth of singing on Brenner's part. Brenner was hoarse by the end of the evening, but it was a small price to pay for their lives.

During the whole event, the innkeeper kept the wine flowing and each member of the patrol was so drunk by the end of the evening that they had to be carried to bed by Tristan and his men. While it had been a humiliating evening all the way around, no one had been hurt, but if this was a quiet night for them, Tristan cringed at what a wild night looked like. He wondered at the innkeeper's ability to persevere under such abuse but the inn had been in her family for years and she would not let it go if she could help it. Tristan quietly paid for the patrol's supper out of the money provided by the colonel; he only wished he could give her more for previous meals and damages, but that was all he had. She thanked him profusely for his kindness. It may have been the first ray of sunshine to pierce her grey world in a long time.

Tristan and his men retired to their room and took what sleep they could before daybreak. Then each man donned his uniform, put on his sword (they had not dared wear them downstairs last evening lest the scoundrels consider dueling a proper form of entertainment), and prepared themselves to rouse the drunken patrol from their beds. Having put each man to bed the previous night, Tristan and his men knew exactly which men were sleeping where. Very loudly, Tristan banged on the door of the room containing the captain.

"Go way," said a groggy voice miserably. He must have a terrible hang over; Tristan had asked the innkeeper to make sure the wine was extra strong last night and the Captain had drunk as much as anyone.

"Open up," bellowed Tristan.

"Go way before I hurt you," growled the miserable man.

"Open in the name of the Order," yelled Tristan. He heard whimpering on the other side of the door; apparently he was not currently fond of loud noises. Using a spare key, he unlocked the door and charged inside. The poor man huddled in a heap on the end of the bed in his underwear shielding his ears with a pillow. Brenner ran over and opened the window, allowing the new risen sun to shine in. "On your feet man," growled Tristan, "I was sent to inspect this unit by Colonel Karly. You and your men are a disgrace to the Order."

Things were slowly starting to click in the captain's head and he jumped up off the bed in a fury, "what authority do you have over me?" Tristan quietly proffered his orders and the man's face fell with dismay, but an evil light twinkled in his eyes. Tristan could almost read his mind as he planned to do away with this would-be inspector.

"You are hereby relieved of duty and as of now I am taking over command of this disgraceful outfit," said Tristan, "you will be detained in an appropriate facility until I can contact headquarters and they decide what to do with you." The man looked bleakly at Tristan as Brenner and Derkly led him quietly away. The innkeeper knew of an appropriate spot to house the derelict captain until further notice. The men were completely unaware of what had befallen their leader, and Tristan was very unkind to rouse them from their beds so early after such a long night. He made them pack their things and assemble outside immediately. They were not happy at the change in leadership, but there was little they could do about it short of mutiny and none was stupid enough to try that.

Tristan was a strict taskmaster and did not allow any drinking, gambling, carousing, or other amusements for the erring patrol. They were expected to do their assigned camp chores, stand watch, and ride patrol with absolutely no complaining or distractions. It took them a couple days before they realized they gain nothing with their constant whining except more chores. Tristan led them on their assigned patrol route and hoped by the time they circled back to the inn they would be a much more manageable bunch. After a week of constant but fair oversight, Tristan began to see changes. They no longer expected someone else to do everything for them. They were much more polite interacting with others, and they began to behave more like men and less like brutes. Once someone expected something of them and they could not get away with doing otherwise, they began to live up to those expectations. There was hope for them after all. Once they reached the inn again, they were to leave Derkly in charge of the patrol, and Tristan and Brenner were to take the captain back to Panmycea for questioning. After a two-week imprisonment alone inside an old fortress, the captain was more than willing to come out, even if it meant going with the two usurpers. Tristan did not look forward to traveling with Captain Yates but he had little choice. He was the only lead Tristan had to furthering his investigation into the chaos that was assaulting the Order. Was it just poor oversight and bad leadership or was there something more sinister behind it?

On the journey home, Yates was at first unwilling to talk to anyone, but after two weeks with no one to talk to he became gradually more desperate for human company. "How could you allow such behavior in your men?" asked Tristan one night as they sat beside the fire.

"I thought we were allowed to do as we pleased," said the man.

"Where did you get that idea?" asked Tristan.

"Some of the higher-ups did not think it a bad thing," said Yates, "they said it encouraged morale in the men."

"It certainly encouraged something," said Tristan, "which officers approved such behavior?"

"Nobody approved it," said Yates, "they just sort of overlooked it." That was something at least. Some of this was due at least in part to the lack of supervision and leadership over the far-flung members of the Order. At least that could be fixed if the Order was willing to punish men who sorely abused the rights of others. Yates seemed resigned to his fate and cooperated fully, but shed no more light on his connections or lack thereof to some sinister plot within the Order. Tristan returned to Panmycea with the despondent Yates and gave a full report of his adventures in the south. The colonel approved of the change in leadership of the patrol and said he would see to reprimanding Yates. As for promoting more responsibility and less wanton behavior in the field units, Karly could only shrug and say they were working on it. Since he had found no further leads to follow and proved to be adept at making recalcitrant units see the light, Tristan found himself dispatched all over the countryside disciplining or replacing unit leaders. After several months of such legwork, word seemed to be getting around that such behavior would no longer be tolerated and the behavior of the field units as a whole became much more tolerable. There were still a few units that dared Karly's wrath but as a whole, things were greatly improved.

### Chapter 13

Not everyone was pleased with this change in behavior. There were those factions within the Order that benefited from the chaos and violence perpetuated in the field. These individuals saw Karly's interference as a nuisance and hoped to quietly dispose of Tristan. With Tristan out of the way, Karly's hands would be neatly tied, and perhaps he would cease being a problem before more drastic measures were needed. Getting rid of the colonel would be the most expedient way to eliminate the problem, but that might raise questions certain persons would rather not have asked. They waited their chance to dispense with Tristan, and that chance soon came. Tristan was again assigned to track down and reprimand a renegade unit, this one was stationed in a city on the border of the western mountains.

Westhope was a city with no attachment to any particular nation or ruler. It existed primarily as an outpost of civilization and a stopping point along the trade route from Westria to the east. The land was rolling grassland and the primary occupation was grazing sheep or cattle; there was also a good deal of mining in that part of the world. Westhope provided supplies and services to the merchants, shepherds, and miners that moved about the western wilderness. The outpost to which Tristan was sent consisted of ten knights of the Order who were demanding tribute from the nearby city in exchange for 'protection' from themselves. Fearing this nut would be hard to crack, Tristan rounded up seven reliable men from the Citadel and headed West. The Order had a small fortress just outside the city in which the men were stationed. They rode west and arrived at Westhope without incident. Tristan had his men change to plain clothes and arrive quietly throughout the day in groups of two or three at a large inn on the edge of the city; there they were to wait for Tristan and Brenner to arrive. Tristan and Brenner spent the better part of the day wandering the streets of Westhope, talking to the locals, and observing the fortress from a safe distance. It would be foolish to demand entrance with so small a force; they would close the gate and either laugh at them or have the archers try their luck. It would be just as silly to try scaling the walls by night. It was not the most well-defended fortress that Tristan had seen but its defenses were good enough to rout his small army.

The men came to town in groups of five while five were left to mind the fort. Tristan thought about nabbing the five as they went abroad, but figured the rest would just hole up inside the fortress and leave their comrades to their doom. He had to figure out a way to get into the fortress himself or get all of them to come out. This was going to require some thought. That evening, they sat quietly in the common room in a group of three and a group of five. Brenner talked with their fellow tablemate while Tristan brooded over the fortress and what to do about it. The other five talked quietly amongst themselves. Tristan's thoughts were interrupted when some cheering, whistling, and foot stomping broke out among some of the other patrons; someone was going to play or sing for the gathered crowd. The woman played some sort of stringed instrument (music was never Tristan's strong point) and sang a beautiful but sad song about a kingdom that had disappeared long ago. This was not the usual sort of raucous singing one heard in a common room; it was something closer to what one heard from the bards and minstrels who frequented the courts of the rich and powerful. Most songs one heard in such a place were about food, drink, women, war, or traveling, one rarely heard historical fact put to music. He took a second, closer look at the woman and chided himself for not paying more attention. He should have known. Who else but one of the Brethren would sing an historical ballad in a common room full of peasants? Some of the Teaching sect preferred music to lectures, and there were a number of very talented bards among them. The woman finished her song and began another; the audience was bewitched by her voice. If one had to learn history this was a rather nice way to go about it. Even his men seemed to be enjoying the lesson, or perhaps they just enjoyed looking at the singer, for she was quite striking. She sang most of the evening about love lost and found, wars won and kingdoms lost, the struggles of humanity, and stories of the Master. It was a very lovely way to spend the night. She retired to her room and did not mingle much with her appreciative audience. Tristan's men seemed to start awake, as if out of a dream and he ordered them to bed with a smile.

They spent the next day questioning townspeople about the Order, the fortress, and the surrounding area. The locals held the Order in much disfavor, especially since they started demanding tribute. When five of them emerged at a time, they descended on a local inn, demanded the best food, wine, and service, and never paid for anything. The younger women were soon hustled out of the room lest they attract unwanted attention. To the best of anyone's knowledge, no one but the knights ever came in or out of the fortress except twice a month when the tribute wagons rolled in. Tristan also asked about the mysterious singer at their inn. People said she was quite popular as an entertainer and teacher even though she had just arrived a few days ago. She had requests from all the inns to come and sing of an evening. Whichever inn she visited never had an empty seat and few dry eyes. That afternoon, Tristan went over his plans with his men; they thought it a grand idea but it would be a few days before they could implement it. They came early to supper and took their accustomed places as the singer was to sing again that night and they knew the inn would rapidly fill up. They were not disappointed; the place was packed. Just as she was taking out her instrument to begin, the door was thrown open and in traipsed five of the seediest looking soldiers Tristan had ever seen. Their uniforms were wrinkled, their noses were red from constant consumption of alcohol, and every one of them had not shaved or bathed in at least a week. They tossed several men out of their chairs and took control of a table near the singer's platform. She looked at them in disgust, but said nothing and began her song. The innkeeper quickly saw them provisioned with the best she had in the kitchen. They seemed contented, at least for the present.

After they had eaten and drunk their fill, one yelled at the singer, "why all these slow, tedious songs. We want something rousing and exciting."

"Yeh," yelled several equally drunk knights.

She began a country-dance with a fast beat; they cheered and grabbed any female that was handy, pushed over tables, and shoved aside chairs and patrons alike, in an attempt to clear space for dancing. The poor women they kidnapped as partners screamed or wept in despair. The singer stopped the song immediately, "this reprehensible behavior will not be tolerated. Let those poor women go and resume your seats or there will be no more music tonight."

"Who is going to make us," laughed the apparent leader of the group, "you are gonna sing and we are gonna dance with whoever we like. Now get up there and play sweetie."

She did not move. The men looked from her to their leader in confusion; nobody disobeyed the Order. Tristan smiled, she had nerve. The men dropped their unwilling partners and drew their swords. They made a semicircle around the stage. The audience backed up and some of them ran for it. This was going to be ugly.

"Now love," said the leader, "be reasonable. You sing and I will not kill you. I might even let the lads have a little fun with you afterwards." The men smiled in anticipation. She did not flinch. She carefully set down her instrument and drew forth a long, slightly curved sword that had been hidden amongst the folds of her gown. Five on one was still very bad odds, but it beat five swords against none. "A feisty one boys!" laughed the leader, "come now lass, you are too pretty to hurt...yet." She assumed a defensive stance and prepared to go down fighting. The men approached and the sound of steel leaving the sheath rang loud in the room. The five men looked about in confusion at the sound. Who would dare risk their wrath? Tristan and his men had their swords drawn and surrounded the confused knights. Some of the braver members of the audience also drew forth their weapons and added their numbers to the group.

"Stand down," Tristan ordered, "put away your weapons and we will deal with this quietly. You need not be hurt."

"Who are you to command us?" sneered the leader.

"Just know that I am authorized to do what I must to stop this despicable behavior," said Tristan, "I also count fifteen swords to your five. Hopefully your swordsmanship is better than your counting skills."

The knights glanced around them at the superior numbers, dropped their swords, and put their hands on their heads. Tristan motioned for one of his men to pick up the dropped weapons while the others kept the knights covered. Once the weapons were retrieved and each man's hands were secured behind his back, everyone put their swords away and a general cheer ran through the group. They had captured half of the renegade knights! It was not exactly the plan Tristan had hoped to implement, but it was necessary at the time and he could not go back now. He had been hoping to sneak in using the tribute wagons but he would have to come up with something else to capture the other five men. The prisoners were stuffed temporarily into a back closet while the common room was put back in order. "You have no right," snapped the leader as he was shoved into the closet, "the Order will take care of you."

"I am sure they will," laughed Tristan.

"Have you enjoyed my singing?" asked the sweet voice of the bard as she approached Tristan.

"Very much my lady," said he, "there are few sounds I have enjoyed half so well."

"You mock me sir," she teased.

"Certainly I do not!" said Tristan, "and you should know I cannot."

She bowed in acquiescence and smiled at his sincerity. "I came to thank you," said she, "for intervening. I could have handled two or perhaps three, but five would have overwhelmed me."

"If that is the case you must be as skilled with the sword as you are with your music," said Tristan. He doubted he could handle more than that himself. She blushed at the compliment and they took a seat together at a newly replaced table.

"You are far from Astoria," said she.

"The Lady seems to like me as far away from her as possable," laughed Tristan, "she keeps sending me to the ends of the earth and when I have finished there she sends me to the other side."

"And these men with you?" she asked.

He glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot, "they belong to the Order of the Unicorn."

She gasped and looked at him in surprise and said, "but why associate with such men?"

He laughed, "it is a very long story and the Lady herself has bidden me hence. They are under my command and we are under orders to bring these vile dogs to heel. There are still five more locked away in the fortress and I am afraid when these five do not come home as expected the others will lock the door and never come out."

"Perhaps I can assist you," she said. It was a crazy plan but it just might work.

Five men walked their horses up to the gate of the fortress with a woman tied across one of the saddles. "Back a little late are we?" asked the sentry.

"Had a bit of trouble at the inn," said the leader, "but I brought back a nice little songbird to entertain us."

"You know the rules," snapped the guard, "no prisoners."

"But she is not a prisoner, she is a guest," laughed the leader. "Besides," he continued, "we have broken enough rules, what is one more?"

"All right," growled the guard, "but it is your head and not mine if the Captain does not go for it." He opened the gate and let the five men in. Tristan kept his sword point dug into the small of the leader's back. He had agreed to cooperate once Tristan had identified himself and his mission. The man did not like it but he had little choice. The two men guarding the gate were quietly knocked unconscious and drug out of sight. Two of Tristan's men took their place.

The singer was untied, save for a loose rope around her hands to make it look as if she were bound; her sword was hidden beneath her cloak. They went in search of the captain. A guard on watch noticed the strangers walking unguarded through the keep and raised the alarm. Tristan fought him to a standstill and had him stand against a stone wall with the captured leader under the watchful eyes of the men guarding the gate. The remaining two men rushed out in their pajamas to defend the fortress only to find themselves outnumbered and their colleagues under guard. They surrendered and Tristan went about the tedious business of explaining who he was and why he had come. Tristan's men brought the rest of the prisoners back from the inn. Tristan had the mayor and the chief watchman roused from their beds and brought to the fortress to discern what, if any crimes the captured men stood accused of. There had been much posturing and threatening, some theft, and unruly behavior but no one had yet aspired to rape or murder. Tristan left his seven men in charge of the fortress with Brenner in command along with the three youngest of the captured knights. The other seven were locked up until Tristan could figure out what to do with them, but first Tristan retired thankfully to bed.

As he slept, he felt a pall of evil about him and started awake. The window was open and a cold wind blew into the room. There was no movement or sound, but he was still uneasy. Something was very wrong. His hand crept quietly under his pillow and grasped the dagger he kept there. He rolled over and pretended to sleep. For half an hour, nothing stirred but a stench of evil hung about the room. There came a quiet noise, as of feet moving ever closer, ever so slowly. Tristan readied the dagger. There was a sharp intake of breath and the sound of leaping feet as a dark shape lunged upon Tristan, blade drawn. There was a struggle but the intruder was not expecting trouble and tried to flee; Tristan's blade flew true and caught the man in the leg; he tumbled to the ground with a scream, but before allowing himself to be captured, he thrust a dagger into his own heart and dissolved into an oily pool of goo. Tristan could only shake his head in bewilderment. Would he ever find out what was going on with this Brotherhood of the Serpent? At least he knew there was more behind the Order's problems than a lack of competent leadership. There came a knock at the door and Tristan had to explain the noise to the innkeeper and all who had been awakened by the man's screams.

The next day saw the townspeople out in full force to greet the men who had rescued them from the renegade soldiers. Tristan asked and was granted that the remaining seven be allowed to herd sheep, sweep floors, wash dishes or whatever else the townsfolk deemed proper work for the renegades. The three youngest and least belligerent were pardoned if they promised to behave themselves under Brenner's command. The other seven would sleep at night in the fortress dungeon and work wherever they were bidden during the day. They were always to be kept under guard until the townsfolk deemed them free of their tedious punishment or word was sent by the Order with further instructions. Tristan figured six months of tedium would do much for their insubordinate attitudes.

Arora (the singer) was surprised and disappointed to hear Tristan would be heading back to Panmycea so soon. He would spend one more night at the inn, but must then head back to Panmycea for further orders. He sent word via pigeon to the Lady about the assassination attempt of the night before. "Why must you leave?" asked Arora that night over supper.

"I have a duty to the Lady and the Order to figure out what is going on," he said, "I am very sorry to be leaving; I have quite enjoyed your company."

"I will go with you," she said.

"What!?!" gasped Tristan, "do you not have a duty to the people here?"

"I am free to come and go at will, unlike you I am not assigned to any particular area or mission," she said, "I am sure that Panmycea could stand to hear a little encouraging music."

"I am sure it could," said Tristan with a laugh, "but it is too dangerous."

"You would not say that to any of your men," she said with a dangerous edge in her voice.

"No," admitted Tristan, "I would not, but I say it to you because I value your friendship and I would like to think of you safely away from me."

"Nonsense," said she with a smile, "I am no safer without you than I am with you. The world has grown perilous in the last few years. Besides, you need someone to watch your back if one of these assassins should strike again. And why not keep an eye on me directly rather than wondering if I am well?" Short of tying her up, he could not stop her so he gave in to her demands, which made a remarkable amount of sense. And for once he looked forward to the journey back to Panmycea.

### Chapter 14

They rode back a little slower than absolutely necessary, but Tristan needed the rest. Of course traveling and camping with a woman was very different than traveling with an all male company. The necessities of privacy and decency had to be observed and with a little extra effort were strictly adhered to. It was a joy to travel with one of his colleagues again. He did not always have to be watching what he said and did, fearing which small slip would shatter his disguise, and they had much in common and much to discuss. True, she was a musician and he was more of an adventurer or a soldier, but this gave them ample things to speak of. Taragon was eager to have another unicorn to travel with, especially a mare. The mare tolerated him as best she could, but still had to use a few well timed kicks or nips to rein in some of Taragon's enthusiasm. Unicorn courtship was a strange business and by tradition, they did not participate in such activities while in the service of the Brethren. But that did not mean he could not show his interest. They rode side-by-side so they could talk more easily. "What will you do once we reach our destination?" asked Tristan.

"I plan to sing at whatever inns or other gathering places will have me," said she.

"Some of your lore may not be very popular among the majority of the citizenry," said Tristan.

"I know this will be hostile territory and will be careful," she said mock-sternly, "you cannot lock me away in a cage to keep me safe, but I appreciate the sentiment." Tristan blushed and turned away. They were silent for a time and then Arora said, "what do you think your next task will be once we get back?"

"I fear it will be tracking down any of these Brotherhood characters on the loose within the Order," said Tristan.

"You fear?" asked the lady.

"Order Headquarters is the last place I wish to spend any amount of time; it would be a very tedious assignment," said he.

"A man of action and not beauracracy," she mused, "fascinating." He was not sure how to take that.

Changing the subject Tristan said, "so tell me about yourself."

She gave him a very bland look for such a boring conversational topic. "But what is there to know of me that you do not know already?" she asked lightly.

"Perhaps your age," said Tristan carefully.

"You dare ask a lady her age?" she said dangerously.

"Well you do not look a day over 200," said Tristan as seriously as he could.

"200!" said she indignantly, "why I am only 93."

"93?" said Tristan, "why you are little more than a girl."

"And how old would you be my fine grey-beard?" asked Arora.

"Has no one told you it is impolite to discuss one's age?" asked Tristan.

"As I thought," she said, "you must be nearly 300 to evade such a question."

"I am a youthful 135, thank you very much," laughed Tristan, "and still young enough to outrun a youngster like you." Catching his mood Taragon took off like the wind, but Arora's mare was not to be so easily outdone. They raced through the gold-drenched evening weaving effortlessly through rolling meadows of yellowed grasses belly-deep on the unicorns and forest glades afire with the yellow and crimson of autumn. The evening faded from gold to blue and nearly to black before they pulled up their mounts and caught their breath. It had been an exhilarating race.

Tristan knew of an inn nearby and they walked the unicorns in that direction. "I guess you can keep up with an old man," laughed Tristan.

"Perhaps you are not as old as I thought," laughed Arora.

"I will remember you said that," replied Tristan. Shortly they arrived at the inn, and handed their mounts over to the groom and went inside for supper. Over their meal, they continued their conversation.

"We have heard something of this Brotherhood of the Serpent from the Lady, but what do you know of it and why does it concern the Order?" she asked. He told her what he knew. When he had finished she said, "it is good that you have someone to watch your back." He looked at her skeptically. "You know what I mean," she said, "you can hardly trust most of these Order-types, but I can keep my eyes and ears open about the city and see what I can find out. And if ever you need someone to talk to or someone to do some minor task I would be happy to oblige you."

"I would enjoy seeing you occasionally once we reach Panmycea, but I fear we must not make our acquaintance known to anyone outside the Brethren," said Tristan. She looked a bit perturbed at this news but saw the sense in it. "When we get close to town I think it would be best if you stayed the night at a village inn nearby and ride in in the morning," said Tristan, "I will ride in immediately and see where my duties take me next. I would very much like to drop in some evening and hear you sing." She smiled at this and agreed to do as he suggested.

They talked much as they rode on the journey to Panmycea, and each dreaded the day of their parting. Finally, the dreaded day arrived. Tristan stopped Taragon outside a small village within an hour's ride of the city. "Here we must part," he said, "I hope the day comes swiftly when we meet again." He bowed from his saddle, turned Taragon, skirted the village, and headed towards the city. Arora watched his departure with sadness but hope stirred in her heart that they would meet again before long. She walked towards the inn and prepared for an evening of singing.

Tristan rode at a gallop away from the small village; any slower and he feared he might turn back and not be able to part from her. His mind was a complete muddle. He had never intended to fall for a woman. There were almost nine men to each woman within the Brethren, their lives were so unpredictable, and danger lurked everywhere that very few ever married. Although it was allowed within the Brethren, was it worth the price? His constant journeys and missions kept him occupied and gave purpose and direction to his life. He was content and never asked for more. But since meeting Arora his life had been turned upside down. He wanted to spend each waking moment with her and he could think of little else. She fascinated him as little else ever had. If he did not know better, he would have thought she had put some sort of enchantment on him. He tried vainly to clear his mind and focus on other matters. "Women are trouble," he said to Taragon, who snorted in amused agreement.

By late afternoon, he arrived at the gates of the city and rode as quickly as he could through the crowded streets. Once inside the castle, he was directed immediately to the Colonel's quarters. Tristan bowed to Karly and gave a full report of his dealings with the garrison at Westhope and the shadowy assassin. "Well," said the colonel, "we have attracted someone's attention. I think this proves there is indeed more to this than too many new recruits and poor leadership. Someone is very eager to have you out of the way, and I suspect myself and captain Frey as well. Though, if we disappeared from the Citadel it might arouse suspicions and garner inquiry into things they would rather keep quiet. I suggest that you be very careful and try not to spend too much time alone for the time being. I also think that you should spend some time here and try to find some evidence of who is behind all of this." Tristan bowed in acceptance but shuddered to think he might be stuck in the Citadel for months on end. His only hope was to figure this thing out quickly and get away from this center of intrigue and bureaucracy. The only thing that appeased him was the thought of slipping out and seeing Arora occasionally. The next few days he spent attending meetings and overseeing various menial tasks as Colonel Karly's Secretary. He kept his eyes peeled for any evidence that might further his quest, but saw nothing.

Meanwhile, Arora spent the night at the inn and the much appreciative innkeeper begged her to stay another night, but she said she could not and headed out early the next morning. After she arrived in the city, she made a thorough tour of the place and tried to decide where to go first. She looked longingly at the Citadel that towered over everything, wondering if Tristan thought of her as much as she did of him. Drat the man! She was an independent and capable woman; he had no right to confuse her thoughts as he did. She had a mission to reach the world with her songs of history, lore, and Truth. How would attaching herself to such an adventurer affect both their duties? She sighed as she walked into a moderately sized inn on the edge of town and applied to the innkeeper about the possibility of singing for his guests that night. He gladly accepted her offer and hoped she was good enough to draw a crowd. Things had been a bit slow lately and he could use the business.

Evening came and she took her place on the makeshift stage in one corner of the common room. A few eyes looked up hopefully, but most just stared bleakly into their mugs hoping to find some truth or meaning; another third rate performer really did not interest them much. She began with a stirring dance tune purported to be from West of the mountains and every eye in the room turned in her direction. That got their attention. Next came a love ballad with a stirring finale. After that, she began an epic tale of war and much sorrow. She continued for most of the evening and drew many passersby into the inn. The place was packed by the time she put her instrument away for the evening. The innkeeper was ecstatic. Within a few days she had become something of a local phenomenon and the innkeepers were fighting desperately to have her frequent their establishments, but she paid no heed to their offers of money, she visited the smallest inn as frequently as the grandest. Sometimes, when the weather was fine she abandoned the common rooms and performed outside the city in an empty hay field. The first few nights she skipped any songs of the Truth or the Master and focused on dance tunes, histories, legends, and lore, but as her audience grew so did her boldness, and soon she sporadically tossed in a song or two of the Master and his ways. Some people disliked this apparent act of defiance but most just enjoyed her voice and skill.

She also gained the attention of certain individuals within the Order, some who secretly adored her. It was suggested that perhaps she could perform for the High Council and the higher-ranking officers within the Order. This was readily agreed to and Colonel Karly's Secretary was dispatched to make the arrangements. After days of tedium and no progress, Tristan could not believe he actually received such an assignment. He gladly went in search of the mysterious songstress that had enchanted the city. He found her at a small inn in the middle of town. The innkeeper told him she was indisposed at the moment, but she appeared suddenly and firmly told the innkeeper she would see any who called upon her when she was not actually sleeping. He muttered sullenly about her needing her rest and walked away. Tristan bowed formally and asked if he might have a private word with her. She nodded solemnly and escorted him to her sitting room (she had the best room at the inn courtesy of the grateful innkeeper).

Once they were safely away from prying ears she said, "I have missed you greatly."

"As have I," said Tristan.

"But I thought we were not to be seen 'together' by anyone outside the Brethren," said she.

"But I am on official business for the Order," he said mock-formally.

"I see," she said without expression.

"Though it is an errand I happily perform," he said warmly.

"I see," she said thawing a little.

"The Order requests your presence at a special performance for all the high-mucky-mucks," said Tristan.

"That is their exact wording?" she asked archly.

"Of course," said Tristan with a straight face.

"At least they have not come to arrest me," she laughed. Tristan looked concerned. "You need not worry," said she, "I have ruffled a few feathers but no one has complained about it or threatened me." He relaxed and she continued, "I do not usually do command performances for royalty, but how could I resist the chance to sing of the Master before such an audience?" She almost giggled with the irony of the thought. "Yes," she said, "I shall certainly sing for your masters." Tristan looked irritated at that but she laughed all the more.

"Please choose your repertoire carefully," begged Tristan.

She sobered her tone immediately and said, "would you back down from facing a foe just to save your own skin? You fight evil with the sword; my battle against the Enemy is with my voice and my songs. I will do what I must, regardless of the cost to myself." She quietly added, "or to us." Tristan nodded in sad acknowledgement; it was who and what they were. To deny or ignore the Master simply to protect yourself from an awkward situation was contrary to their mission and the Oath. She must do as she felt she must. This would be an opportunity of speaking (or singing) the Truth where it was never heard. Tristan brightened slightly at the mention of 'us' but could no longer look forward to her performance without trepidation.

The day of her performance arrived and the High Council and the assorted officers filled the main audience chamber of the Citadel. A mere captain of Tristan's standing would not have qualified even for a space to stand and watch, but as he was the secretary to a colonel, they allowed him a seat near the back. They had asked him to convey to Arora that she should refrain from any 'questionable' material; he had done his best but she had the right of it and she was prepared to face the consequences whatever they might be. At the appointed time, she stepped out into the middle of the room dressed in a simple white gown with a silver unicorn embroidered on one shoulder. The audience surrounded her, for the chairs rose in tiered levels on every side. All lamps were dimmed save for those around her. She felt very small and alone under all those eyes, but she was determined not to fail. Picking up her instrument, she took a deep breath and began. She had chosen her repertoire with care, for such a militant audience she chose songs of war, battle, and glory. One could almost hear the thump of booted feet, the clanging of swords, the sound of horn and drum, and the thunder many hooves.

She sang of desperate battles, last stands, glorious victories, and lost wars. She sang of the terror and heat in the midst of battle and the drudgery of long marches, cold nights, and short rations. For many of the old campaigners long since buried in paperwork and meetings, it almost felt as if they rode again on the path to war; their blood stirred and their hearts sang. Old memories of glory, death, and pain filled their minds. They listened in dumbfounded silence, hanging on every note and word. She had them mesmerized, but next came the dangerous part of her plan. She switched her songs from grand battles and forgotten wars to a subtler arena of honor, duty, and love. Instead of marching off to battle, the stories told of fighting evil on all fronts and in all ways, not just with a sword, but with all your being and abilities. She sang of devotion to others, the willingness to die for a just cause, of charity for the weak and poor, and justice and mercy for high and low alike. This led into her finale, which was a beautiful retelling of the Master's sacrifice for erring man. Every ear and eye was transfixed on the beautiful songstress; as she finished her last song, silence hung in the air and no one dared even to breath.

All sat frozen, save one man. Something caused Tristan to turn his head slightly and glance at a small movement caught out of the corner of his eye. He sat at the very back, perched like a bird upon some lonely precipice of the sea. Nearby in the darkest corner of the room, a shadowy figure quietly drew back the string of his bow, unseen by any eye but Tristan's. Tristan leapt from his chair and tackled the man. A sharp twang rang through the chamber as the man lost hold on his arrow and it ricocheted off the low ceiling. Between the noise of the scuffle and the arrow, the singer's spell was broken and everyone jumped as if awakening from a sound sleep. All eyes turned from the songstress to the noise in the back of the room. Lights were called for and several strong arms pulled the struggling men apart. "What is the meaning of this?" growled a scar-faced general. He glared balefully from one man to the other and back. "Is this any way to behave in the presence of the High Council?" he barked. The dark man glared with loathing at Tristan, a little blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth. "Colonel Karly is not this your secretary?" snapped the general.

"Yes sir," said the Colonel, "and I am sure he has a very good explanation for interrupting the evening's entertainment." He looked significantly at Tristan.

"Who is this other character?" asked the general, "he gives me the creeps." "Well?" he growled at Tristan.

"Sir," said Tristan confidently, "I have no idea who this man is, but he had an arrow aimed at someone in the front. Whether it was the singer or one of the Councilmen, I do not know. I only knew he must me stopped." A wave of surprise ran through the gathered crowd.

"Is this true?" snapped the general. The vile man just sneered at the scarred-face.

"Here!" yelled someone from the crowd and an arrow was passed to the front.

"I see," said the General. "Let the captain go," he said gruffly.

Tristan was released but asked, "Sir, may I check something?"

"If you must," said he. The audience gasped as Tristan pulled forth a dagger and approached the would-be assassin. He used it to rip the fabric of the man's sleeve over the appropriate shoulder. An evil serpent snarled up at him.

"Sir!" gasped Tristan, "it is as I feared. Could we retire to somewhere private with this man, Captain Frey, Colonel Karly, and whoever else of your choosing? There is much to discuss." The bewildered general nodded automatically and led the way to a private room just off the audience chamber. Tristan had one moment to exchange a reassuring smile with the worried Arora before he was lost in the crowd.

The men Tristan had requested and several other high-ranking officers along with those restraining the man found themselves sequestered in the little room. All non-essential personnel were excused; the man was searched, tied up, and relieved of his weapons. "Now what is going on?" demanded the General, "this has been a disappointing end to a lovely evening."

"Actually sir," said Tristan, "I am ecstatic that one of these traitors has finally been caught alive."

The General's irritation melted into curiosity. "Go on," he said.

Tristan continued, "twice now men of this group have attempted to kill me. The latest was on my mission to the garrison at Westhope. Each time the attacker was killed in the attempt or took his own life when capture was imminent. Each had a snarling black serpent tattooed on his shoulder and upon death melted into a nasty black puddle of goo." Looks of disbelief and horror appeared on every face. He continued, "my first encounter with these men was during my leave of absence when I crossed the Western Mountains and entered the land of Westria. There the Queen was under the sway of one of their number and another tried to kill me when I became a hindrance to their plot. Both were killed before we could capture them and a third fled. I made some enquiries and a reliable source revealed that a group called The Brotherhood of the Serpent was behind everything." The man seemed to wince at the name, which only confirmed Tristan's suspicions. "They are a shadowy and mysterious group and I know little more about them than that they are steeped in evil beyond imagining and have some access to powers arcane and dark," finished Tristan.

"What does this have to do with the Order?" asked the general.

Karly cleared his throat and began to explain, "Sir, some time ago some of us began to notice a breakdown in the discipline of the Order. At first, we thought it a result of too many new recruits and not enough leadership or perhaps lack of enforcement of Order protocol, but things deteriorated quickly and unspeakable things were going on in the field with not even a word of reproof from the Council. We began to wonder if there was not some darker force at work. I sent the captain here out into the field to straighten out a few of the more rebellious units and he has done a remarkable job, and this has convinced most of the other field units to get back in line. On his last trip, as he already stated, someone decided that he had become a nuisance and must be gotten rid of. This seemed to confirm our suspicions about some malevolent force behind the Order's decline. I do not know who this man was attempting to kill, but he is our only link to whoever is behind this sinister plot." They all stared at the restrained man.

He scoffed, "I was trying to do away with that pretty little singer of yours. What would it matter to you? She is no part of your precious Order. Her words and songs have too much influence and she needed to be silenced. If you will not do your duty and squash such rebellious chatter, we will do it ourselves."

"We?" asked the general.

"Those of us who have to gain from chaos and strife," laughed the man.

"In Westria," began Tristan, "one of these men spoke of his master using chaos and confusion as a means to cover all the world in darkness. If everyone is looking out for himself and all are at war with one another, instead of facing a strong and united front, this shadowy enemy could simply walk in and sweep us all away as we squabble amongst ourselves."

"You see much," growled the prisoner, "too much. My masters will see that you are taken care of."

"I still do not see what this has to do with the Order," scowled the general.

"We fear sir," began Karly, "that there are more members of this terrible brood amongst our own ranks or perhaps influencing them."

"Speak!" commanded the general of the stranger, "what do you know."

"That you will never discover," laughed the man as he fell over dead.

"What?!" squawked the general as he stared at the puddle that had been his prisoner.

"It seems these creatures have the ability to die at will," said Karly in a shocked voice. "I guess it is a good way to keep a secret, but it certainly makes our job more difficult," he continued.

"Now what?" asked Frey. "At least we know there is a link between this evil brotherhood and the Order, but how do we find out who is working for or influenced by these vile men?" he asked.

"Perhaps," said Tristan, "we let it be known, at least among the highest circles of command, that we have captured and interrogated one of these evil men and have learned much useful information. Then we watch and see who flees or starts acting a little strange, then perhaps we will find more leads to follow."

"It sounds like our only option," said the general morosely.

An emergency session of the High Council was called and all of the highest-ranking officers were ordered to attend. It was made public that there was some scheme to influence the Order from the outside, and that one of these sinister conspirators had been detained and questioned thoroughly. As more leads became obvious, others would be called in for questioning and the perpetrators would be found and dealt with accordingly. Everyone present was sworn to secrecy and told to be on their guard and report any suspicious activity immediately. During the meeting, Tristan sought Arora among the milling crowd. He caught her eye and she followed him at a distance to a small room on the side of the audience chamber. When they were alone he said, "you did beautifully tonight. I am sorry I ever doubted you or worried for your safety."

She smiled at him and said, "I know what you said was only out of concern for me and that you were not asking me to violate my Oath. I appreciate your concern, but if this is going to work, we must both make sure it will not compromise our duties. We serve the Master first and everything else is second. Agreed?"

Tristan wondered what 'this' was, but said, "yes, I agree completely."

"What happened up there?" she asked.

"Apparently you have been targeted as a nuisance by this Brotherhood and they attempted to kill you with an arrow. I tackled the man, but we did not get much information out of him before he somehow willed himself to die," he said.

She gasped in horror and relief. "Where do we go from here?" she asked.

"We both need to be very careful," he said, "but we must not shirk our duties for fear of a knife in the back. The Order is now aware of this menace, and is acting to purge itself of its influence. Hopefully this will all be over soon."

She withdrew from the small room first and Tristan followed a great while later. She had many admirers amongst the crowd and talked long into the night with them. Tristan stood at a distance and watched for danger until he was summoned to Karly's chambers.

"Well done tonight," the colonel said when Tristan arrived, "I think we may finally be making some progress." Tristan nodded his agreement. He continued, "now I have a slight change in your assignment. General Hark, the charming man you met earlier tonight, has taken quite a liking to this singer. He wants her protected and he has decided that you are the man to do it."

"Me?" gasped Tristan.

"Yes you," continued Karly, "as long as she stays in Panmycea you are to act as her bodyguard. He also thinks that since both of you have been targets of this group before you may be so again, therefore he hopes that you may perhaps draw more of these villains into the open."

"Bait?" asked Tristan.

"So it seems," said Karly. "The general also hopes the songstress will sing again on a fairly regular basis at the Citadel. Not just for the higher-ups but for everyone. He thinks it would be good for morale and behavior. I agree," said Karly. "You will talk to her about that as well," said he. Tristan bowed not sure whether to sing for joy or run for cover with such an assignment.

His official duty was now to protect Arora, but he was also responsible for whatever schemes Karly decided he could handle while doing so; not to mention acting as bait for any would-be assassins. How did he get himself into such dilemmas? Instead of being driven from the Citadel by a rioting crowd for heretical singing, Arora had been personally invited back by several members of the Council and was officially protected by men in the Order's service. She was to perform once a week and anyone who wished to attend was able to. Tristan marveled at the receptivity with which her songs and message were received, but sometimes he forgot how even the most powerful hungered secretly for truth, meaning, and love. There was a time for secrecy and discretion, but boldness was often needed to make a true impact. Perhaps in the end, she would accomplish more with her songs than he ever would with his sword.

After each performance, a number of her hearers would come up and ask questions about her music, herself, or her message. This one-on-one time was where she could direct each heart in the direction it needed to go. Many times, she was asked if she were married, but she only replied with a laugh that men were trouble and she had worries enough without such entanglements. When she was not singing for the Order, she was making her rounds of the city and drew a large following wherever she went. Off-duty knights of the Order often went in search of her when she was not singing in the Citadel. Tristan knew that he could not stay awake and protect her all of the time so he went looking for a couple more men to share in the guard duty. There was no shortage of volunteers. Tristan chose two of the most skilled and trustworthy men stationed at the Citadel: Harper and Wayne. They rotated sixteen hours on and eight off so that Arora had two men with her at all times. When she required privacy or sleep, one man was stationed at her door and another outside the building. She thought it a great joke that one of the Brethren would be so heavily guarded by the Order! It was an irritation to never be free of her entourage, but under the current circumstances she accepted it gracefully. Tristan's constant presence was a comfort to her, though they never showed any outward sign of their growing regard for one another, they each knew how the other felt.

Several months passed in this fashion and no more attempts were made on Arora or Tristan's life. One of the members of the High Council fled in the night and several high-ranking officers were detained on suspicions that they were preparing to leave as well. The detained officers were part of the conspiracy, but had not yet sworn their lives to the Brotherhood. They were able to bring the other members of the conspiracy to light and the whole fiasco was finally put to rest. The fled councilman was declared a renegade and field units were ordered to seize him upon sight. Recruiting efforts were slowed to normal rates when it was discovered that the renegade councilor had been the main push behind the effort, especially when Tristan divulged what he knew about the connection with Westria. Karly was voted into the vacant seat on the High Council for his work in stopping the plot against the Order. Many changes were made to the regulations and protocols governing field units and were strictly enforced. The Order finally seemed to be heading in the right direction. Changes were also made to the Order's mission and future plans. Instead of seeing commoners as 'common,' they began to see them as people who had wants, needs, and feelings just like the nobility. Instead of viewing them as a group to be exploited, they were now viewed as a group to be served. The Order's newly declared purpose was to protect the weak and uphold justice and the Common Law. Tristan nearly fell over with surprise when he heard about this complete change in attitude. Finally, the Order was becoming a respectable group to be part of; which probably meant that Tristan's time there was at an end. They even went so far as to ask the Lady to send experts on the Common Law to assist them in revising their policies; she happily complied. She also sent several bards and teachers along to take Arora's place when she left. The 'garrison' in Astoria was disbanded though Bristol stayed on as the Order's "advisor' to the Lady. Tristan and Arora were ordered home.

Tristan knocked on the door of the Councilor's chambers. A servant answered and after a brief exchange with the Councilor, Tristan was allowed to enter. "Captain!" said Karly, "this is an unexpected pleasure."

"Yes, sir," said Tristan, "I wish I had better tidings."

"What can dampen the joy of so many victories?" asked Karly, "for the first time in my life I am proud to say I belong to the Order."

"I am very happy about the recent changes sir," said Tristan, "but I must resign my commission."

"Why?" asked Karly, "the High Council was thinking about promoting you. No one has come so far so fast. It would be a devastating loss to the Order to lose a man of your talents. Especially since you had so much influence on our recent policy changes."

"Me sir?" asked Tristan in a bewildered tone.

"Yes!" said Karly, "you and those with whom you have worked have shown us what can happen when we put others first. It is pointless serving ourselves. The Order was rotting from within because we had no greater purpose or meaning. But thank the Master, you and that lovely songstress were able to shine some light into our darkened hearts. We now have meaning and purpose and the world (and the Order) will be a far better place because of it. You gave us the example and the singer inspired us to act by reminding us of the virtues we had forgotten or ignored. We have even allowed some of these Brethren to speak at some of our councils and meetings. We have much to learn, but we are eager to do so."

Tristan spoke, "sir, I am greatly comforted by all the changes you have wrought in so short a time and look forward to seeing what the Order will become in future. But as for my resignation, I have been ordered back to Astoria by the Lady." He let the full meaning of his words sink in before he continued, "she is the one who ordered me to join up with the Order in the first place. She feared the direction the Order was taking and wondered what they were up to. Neither of us knew what to expect and I certainly did not expect to find something as terrible as this Brotherhood of the Serpent. Now that the Order and the Brethren are at least communicating and the Order is free of the Brotherhood I am needed elsewhere. My duty is to the Lady and the Master, and is much broader than my allegiance to any one organization. While the immediate threat to the Order has subsided, the Brotherhood is still out there and must be discovered and destroyed wherever it lurks. I am grateful for my time here and the support you have shown me. I only regret the brevity of my time with you and the other honorable men with whom I have had the pleasure to serve." He bowed formally.

Karly was silent for a few moments as he absorbed what Tristan had just said. He knew the man was skilled, faithful, and honorable, but he had no idea he was one of these almost mythic Brethren. A great respect for Tristan and his Brothers grew in Karly's heart. "It was my honor to serve with you," said Karly, "it saddens me to see you go, but what must be must be. If ever you need the support of the Order or wish to return to us all you need do is ask. I will try to increase our communication and interaction with this Lady of yours. I think there is much she could teach us. Farewell."

Tristan bowed again and slipped from the room. He said goodbye to the men he was closest to, withdrew to his quarters for the last time, and slipped out of his uniform and into some plain clothes. He glanced at the uniform laying forlornly on the bed and a small pang of sadness crept through his heart. He had never wanted to join the Order but a part of him would miss the men with whom he had shared some of the strangest days of his life. He left the Citadel for the last time and rode out of the city to a small, quiet inn. Arora was singing a quiet, hopeful song when he walked into the common room and squeezed into the last free corner. She went through a few more verses and ended on a note of expectation and joy. It eased many tired hearts and worried minds. She returned her instrument to its case and spoke quietly to anyone who wished to talk. Outside, the sun vanished from the sky and night engulfed the world. The candles had burned low by the time the last curious bystander was satisfied and had retired for the night. She smiled warmly at Tristan and bid him a quiet goodnight. He took a room and slept soundly. The next morning, they awoke with the sun and shared a pleasant breakfast. They then mounted up and set off for Astoria and the next leg of their adventure.

### Chapter 15

The year was growing old and the weather was not so pleasant to travel in as it had been a few months before. The wind was cold from the north and the sky often threatened rain or snow. It would have been a miserable journey alone, but their shared company lightened the gloom. They finally arrived in Astoria and after something warm to drink and a change into dry clothing, they were escorted to the Lady. She beamed with delight at the sight of them. "You have worked a miracle on the Order of the Unicorn," said the Lady, "it may one day be worthy of the name! Very well done, but I am afraid I cannot let you rest quite yet. Especially you, Tristan. This Brotherhood of the Serpent is still out there and I need you to help me bring it to its knees." Tristan bowed in acquiescence. "Now when will I have the honor of marrying you two," asked the Lady with an attempt at a serious expression.

"My Lady?" asked Tristan with a gasp. They had not even discussed marriage; though it was a hope that sometimes flitted through his mind. Arora looked equally surprised.

Arora began, "we like each other very much, my Lady, but we have not even begun to think about such a commitment. We each have our duties and this is such a dangerous time..."

"Nonsense," laughed the Lady, "it is always a dangerous time and you will always have work to do. If you do not just go ahead and do it you will never get around to it. And if you wait until you are ready you will wait forever. You may not have discussed it, but I can tell that both of you have thought about it." They nodded and blushed. The Lady smiled, "the two of you practically glow when you are in each other's company. If you are not together you will be distracted while apart, and that I cannot have. You must decide now whether you will say your vows or forever remain apart." They looked at each other and nodded. Then both turned to the Lady and said they would like to be married. "Good," said the Lady, "let us begin." Neither had imagined when she said 'now' that she truly meant at this moment, but they were more than willing to take their vows and the wedding proceeded quietly and quickly. Tristan looked at his new bride and smiled broadly. She blushed but returned his smile. The Lady beamed.

The newlyweds were given three days alone together but then they were summoned again to the Lady for their next assignment. "Now that we have that messy business behind us," the Lady said smiling warmly, "let us get back to work. As you both know, we have recently unearthed a most disturbing foe. Apparently, this Brotherhood is nearly as old as the Brethren and has been working against us from time immemorial though we knew it not. We know nothing about their infrastructure, their organization, or their location. That is what I want you two to find out. I need to know what they are up to and if we can put an end to them once and for all. Tristan, I am sorry your missions of late have been very vague, this one most of all, but you have done very well and I have no doubt the Master will lead you where you need to go. Arora, your days as a traveling Bard are temporarily at an end. For now you are in the service of the Messenger sect and will accompany and assist Tristan with his missions. But I believe your talents will come in handy as you travel. You can use them as a sort of cover, and they may allow you to gain access where you could not otherwise venture. We are aware of the existence of at least one of these men of the Brotherhood, which is the servant that fled from Westria when Tristan was there. I also wonder if this renegade member of the Order's High Council is not also a member of the Brotherhood. Perhaps by tracking down one or the other of these men you will find further evidence of the Brotherhood's existence. Otherwise I have no council to give you." They bowed to the Lady and thanked her before leaving her presence.

Tristan wondered what had ever happened to the 'good old days' when his life was simple and the Lady said 'do this' or 'do that' and he went and did it and completed his mission. Now his course was hidden from him. Everything seemed so vague and foggy. He was ecstatic about the prospect of traveling with Arora, but the only problem was where they were to go. He had no leads as to where either the servant or the councilor had fled. Short of walking into a den of evil and demanding to know where the Brotherhood's headquarters was he had no ideas on how to begin. Arora was just as puzzled. Perhaps Nargath would know something or know someone who might know something. Arora had always wanted to meet a dragon and thought it was at least a place to start. They applied to the Lady and she gave her consent. They set off for the Northern Wilds, traveling under the guise of a wandering musician and her guard. The weather was typical for the colder parts of the year and traveling into the North Country was not exactly comfortable, but both were used to long journeys in bad weather and neither complained. Without incident, they arrived at Nargath's cave.

"Hello?" Tristan yelled, but there was no reply. He called again, but still silence reigned. Tristan crept cautiously into the opening to see if he could find some clue as to the dragon's absence.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" asked Arora.

"It is never a good idea to walk uninvited into a dragon's lair, but I need to know if he still haunts these hills or if he has moved on," said Tristan. His wife nodded reluctantly and stood watch at the entrance as he moved deeper into the cave.

There came a great rush of wind and a loud growling snarl was heard, "who dares invade my lair?" The dragon had returned.

Tristan, who had not moved very far into the cave, quickly came out to face the dragon. The dragon's eyes glowed red with anger and he looked ready to do something violent. "Nargath," Tristan said, "we have come seeking your counsel." The dragon pulled up short and squinted at his tiny visitors.

"How do you know my name?" he asked. "

You do not remember me?" asked Tristan.

"Most humans look the same to me," the dragon said simply.

"Remember a certain incident about this time last year involving a small girl and a rather impudent soldier?" asked Tristan.

"Ah yes," said the dragon, "but where is your daring brigade? All I see here is one small girl." Arora glared defiantly at the dragon. "I would not talk that way about her if I were you," Tristan laughed, "she is as fierce a fighter as any man under my command."

"I beg your pardon my lady," said the dragon. She acknowledged his apology with a satisfied nod.

"I hope you do not keep this lady against her will," asked the dragon.

"No," said Tristan with a smile, "she has agreed to put up with me indefinitely. May I introduce my wife, Arora."

"Pleased to meet you lady," said the dragon, "though you must teach your husband more restraint. I nearly devoured him for his impertinence last year, but he managed to somehow talk his way out of it."

"I do not doubt it," laughed the lady, "his tongue is as good at getting him into trouble as it is at getting him out."

"Never was a truer word spoken," agreed the dragon. Tristan cleared his throat and the two remembered he was standing right there. Changing the subject the dragon said, "so you come for counsel?"

"Yes," said Tristan, "over the last year I have stumbled upon a shadowy group of men called the Brotherhood of the Serpent. The Lady has sent us out hoping to learn more about them. All we know about them has come from a few brief interactions with them and a book provided by Mortimer of Westria. We were hoping you knew something of them or knew someone who might."

"Mortimer!" said Nargath, "he is a bit slow sometimes, but a he is a good chap, at least if you can catch him awake. I hope he was doing well when last you met?"

"He was having a very nice nap," said Tristan.

"Yes," laughed the dragon, "he can sleep for decades. I have heard mention of this Brotherhood, but sadly I know no more than the name," said the dragon. "I suppose one of the black dragons would know more," he continued, "evil is their specialty. But then you cannot go traipsing around anywhere near where the black dragons live or you will be destroyed before you have gone ten feet. Even a green dragon would be in very grave danger if he wandered into their territory unannounced. I can make some inquiries for you, but I cannot promise any results. All I can do is ask. They may choose to simply ignore my request. I will get word to you if I learn anything."

"Thank you," said Tristan, "that is very generous of you. How is that little girl who enjoys singing so much?"

A reflective look passed across the dragon's face, "she is doing very well. I just came back from visiting her. She has such a lovely voice."

"If you would like," began Arora, "I could entertain you with a song or two."

The dragon looked hopefully at her and said, "I would be very much pleased." He was very fond of music. They passed the evening with much music and talk; it was a very pleasant night and a sad parting the next morning. As they rode off, they wondered where their journey would take them next.

They traveled for several days and nothing remarkable happened. On the fourth day of their journey back towards Astoria they stopped at an inn for the night. Arora gladly took up her instrument and played for the gathered guests. As the night waned, a shifty looking fellow sidled up to her after she had finished her last song of the evening. Tristan watched him closely.

"I begs your pardon mistress," he said, "but I see you have a way with music."

She looked at him questioningly and he continued, "I know people as know people who like music." She looked at him blankly. "I know people who could make it worth yer while for a little performance," he said.

"Who are these people?" asked Arora.

"Oh," said he, "they do not like to be talked about much. They are real shy if you take my meaning."

"And what do you get out of this?" she asked.

"There be a reward for finding them good entertainment," said the man.

"What must I do to meet these people of yours," she asked.

"Do not worry, if you are interested they will find you," he said.

"You may let them know I am interested," said she.

"Very good," smiled the man, "you will hear from them shortly." With that he scurried out of the inn. She came and sat by Tristan.

"What was that all about?" he asked.

"I am not sure but I think we need to play along with it for now," she said. Tristan did not understand either but he felt the same. They retired to their room.

Long before sunrise the next morning, there came a scratching sound on their door. Tristan bolted out of bed with his sword drawn. He cracked open the door and peered into the hall. There was no one there, but a folded piece of paper had been slipped under the door. He opened it and read it. In a shaky hand, someone had written: We have been advised of your musical abilities. If they are what we have heard, we will pay you well for your services. If you do not follow these instructions to the letter there will be no deal. Come alone, or at most with your guard to the ruins just outside the village. Come before sunrise. Tell no one of this message or of us... It was not signed. Arora read the letter and they began packing. The world was dark and cold in the gloom before daybreak. They moved silently and swiftly to the appointed meeting place and waited. A short, hooded figure met them and motioned for them to follow. They did as their mysterious guide bid them. For over an hour they traveled silently through the dark woods; the sun began to peak over the rim of the world. As the world grew brighter, their guide stopped in a large clearing surrounded by ancient trees. "We are safe from prying eyes and ears here," said the scratchy voice of their guide.

"Who are you?" asked Arora. "We are a hidden people, a forgotten civilization, the original inhabitants of this region," said the man. He only stood about two-thirds the height of a grown man. He continued, "we have lived here long before men moved northward, and I hope we will be here long after he has again retreated south. We hunt wild game and gather the fruits of the forest. We are no threat to anyone unless they threaten us. We only wish to live on in anonymity and peace. We have become very good at hiding from those who would do us harm. There are very few who know of our existence."

"What would you have of me?" asked Arora.

"We dearly love music," said the man. "If you would be so kind as to play for us, we would happily pay you a fair price," said he.

"You need not pay for my services," she said, "I would happily play for so noble a folk."

He smiled at her kind words and they followed him deeper into the forest. "My people have some skill with illusion," he continued, "it keeps out those who would do us harm and keeps our borders safe. Because of this, we can sense when something is not what it seems. Your beasts appear to be common horses, but they are not."

"You see truly," said Tristan, "they are the noblest and fairest of all creatures that go on four legs, but it is their secret to share if they wish." For a moment, they stopped and the unicorns briefly allowed the little man to see them in their true forms, before cloaking themselves again in the guise of common horses.

"How is it you come to have such noble mounts?" gasped the man.

"It is their choice to serve us," said Tristan, "they bear no one against their will."

They journeyed deeper into the ancient woods and the little man appeared lost in thought. What strange guests had he invited into his realm? In the very heart of the wood, the ground sloped down from all sides and formed a little basin. The center was clear and paved with river stones. The sides were terraced and wooden benches and logs sat in rows all the way around the sloping sides. It was a little amphitheater. As they looked closer, they could see high up in the trees something like little cottages built among the branches. Ladders were tossed down and many people of similar height to their guide (and some shorter) ran to great them. The children seemed the most excited. They were a stout, ruddy people with cheerful faces. They were taken to a sheltered area where they were served a late breakfast and given warm water and towels to clean up with. They took the tack off the unicorns and let them run free upon the grass. Once everyone was cleaned, fed, and rested Arora took her place in the little basin and sang for much of the day. The little people were overjoyed and most had never heard anything that brought them such pleasure. That night, it was their turn to provide the music and a feast. They provided roast venison, quail, dried fruits, nuts, fish, wild honey and every type of treat the forest could offer. After a large meal, they broke out their own unique instruments and played a wild tune that made even the worst dancer want to kick up their heels and try. It was an extraordinary night. They slept most of the following morning away and around noon finally stirred from their beds.

Their guide (who also happened to be the leader of the hidden people) said, "I wish we could have this pleasure often repeated, but I fear you must be on your way. And we have our own chores to attend to. Perhaps when you pass this way again you will remember us?"

Tristan smiled and said, "we most certainly will and we thank you for your hospitality."

"I only wish there was something you would take in payment for your services," said the little man.

"Perhaps you have information that can help us," said Tristan.

"Perhaps," said the little man, "though I know little that goes on beyond the borders of the Wildlands as you call them."

"That may be just the information I need," said Tristan. He continued, "I am guessing you know more of these mysterious lands than almost anyone else?" The man nodded solemnly. "Good," said Tristan, "we are seeking a dark and evil group of men. We know that some of them go about on the backs of a large, two-legged reptilian predator with frightful teeth, terrible claws, a long snaky neck, and a whip like tail. All we know is that these creatures are native to the Wilds or somewhere beyond it. Have you any knowledge of such beasts or the men who may seek them out?"

The little man was silent for some time before he spoke, "what you speak has not been widely known amongst our people for many hundreds of years, but it has passed from Elder to Elder with every generation. Why do you seek such knowledge?"

"We have been sent to discover what we can of these evil men, and if possible put an end to their Brotherhood," said Tristan.

The little man gasped in horror, "you are walking into grave peril, but if this is your quest then I will assist you as I can. The creatures we call 'lurkers' and they dwell mostly in the swampy plains beyond the northern borders of the forest. They are dumb, but terrible beasts. They hunt in small packs and prey on anything they can catch, including smaller members of their own kind. From time to time, dark and evil men have been seen crossing the Wilds and entering the swamps in search of such beasts. I know not what spells or charms they place upon the monsters but somehow they tame them and use them as others use horses. We watch these strangers pass by night, but do not dare go near them."

"How often do you see such men?" asked Tristan.

"We see several crossing our borders every year," he said.

"Have you seen any lately?" asked Tristan.

"One was seen several days ago," said the man.

"Can you lead us to him?" asked Tristan.

The little man swallowed nervously but said, "I will."

Almost immediately, they set out in search of the shadowy figure that had been seen four days previously crossing the little country. The man was on foot so they hoped he had not traveled too far. Tristan placed the little man ahead of him in the saddle and they traveled swiftly to one of the last outposts where the little people kept watch. They had seen the man last night, crossing out of their country and into the broad flat plains that stretched away into the North. Tristan dropped the man at the border and wished him well. He watched them ride off into the gathering night, wondering what evil fate might befall them.

They let the unicorns have their heads as they were keen sighted in the darkness and Taragon knew the smell of the 'lurkers.' They traveled swiftly and silently, always looking for some sign of their quarry. About midnight, the unicorns stopped and sniffed the air; Taragon had caught the scent of a group of the beasts in the distance. Tristan did not wish to confront the man; that would only lead to yet another dead end. He wanted to follow the man to his final destination, hoping he would lead them to the main headquarters of this Brotherhood. It was a cloudy night and little could be seen on the vast, dark plain. Taragon pulled back, it seemed the creatures were approaching. They took cover next to a gigantic boulder sticking out of the ground and rising high above their heads. These lands were strewn with such monoliths of rock and they provided ample cover from the approaching pack. The pack came within earshot and the snuffling and squawking sounds of the vicious creatures was heard. In the distance, as if following the creatures, a small, man-sized figure was seen; a darker spot in the blackness. From this distance and in the black of night they could see little else. Something that sounded like humming was heard coming from the man-shape. One of the creatures stood as if transfixed, the rest backed up, squawking in fear. That an unarmed man on foot could frighten such terrible creatures made one wonder how powerful he truly was. The hypnotized beast stood as still as a statue as the man approached. He threw something over the creature's head and fastened it on the creature's breast; Tristan thought he saw it glint red in the darkness. He knew without seeing clearly that it was one of those milky-red crystals such as Visca used to 'tame' his beast. Without further ado, the man jumped on the creature's back and rode off into the night. The rest of the pack had retreated into the relative safety of the darkness. Tristan gave the thing fifteen minutes to get ahead of them and then they set off in pursuit. Tristan hoped to stay far enough behind that the man did not realize he was being followed, but close enough that they did not lose his trail. It would be a strange journey and the their quarry would set the pace.

They tracked the pair until nearly dawn when they found a suitable hiding place to camp for the day. Tristan and Arora did likewise. They traveled only at night and on overcast days, as if man or beast feared the sun or perhaps felt safer in the dark or the gloom. They traveled when he traveled and stopped when he rested. The creatures were able to cover ground quickly; the pace would have killed a horse. Gradually they traveled south and east and entered more civilized lands. The stranger avoided any contact with other men; as the chances of encountering others increased, their travel only took place during the very late night and early morning. It was a gloomy road, but eventually the man seemed to stop. For over a day, the man did not move. They waited another day and again there was no movement. Finally, they made the decision to investigate, lest they sit and wait forever for something to happen. They cautiously approached the small clearing where the man had camped; one from each direction. There was no sign of the man, but the scent of the beast was strong in the noses of the unicorns. Taragon nosed around a large pile of brush and leaves off to one side of the campsite. He snorted in surprise at what he unearthed. The monster slept soundly under the brush pile; nothing they said or did could rouse the thing from its enchanted sleep. The man had hidden the beast and continued on foot. Without the smell of the beast to follow, tracking the man would be more difficult, but Tristan knew something of tracking and was soon able to find his trail, which had already grown cold.

The man had a two-day head start but they were able to follow his trail as far as a small cart path leading towards a main road. Tristan said, "if he has left the beast, he must mean to return for it or call it to him at some point in the future. We must be close to his final destination." Arora agreed and they set off along the cart path and joined with the main road. Tristan now recognized the country through which they traveled; they were traveling towards Lorna, the capital city of Vespera. He idly wondered what the Queen would think of his new wife. More seriously, he wondered if Vespera housed the headquarters of the Brotherhood or if they had stumbled upon a lone agent who had some evil business in the country. By nightfall, they reached the city and took a room at a small inn on the outskirts of town.

"How do we find him now?" asked Arora.

"I have no idea," said Tristan, "I spent a couple months here about a year ago."

"Yes," said Arora, "you have mentioned it."

"I do not know whether we should try and remain anonymous and seek him out ourselves or whether I should go directly to the Queen," said Tristan.

"Why not go directly to the Queen?" asked Arora.

"We parted on rather awkward terms," said Tristan blushing.

"Yes?" said Arora acutely interested.

"She basically made a marriage proposal," said Tristan in a rush.

"And you never mentioned it?" Arora said.

"It seemed irrelevant, it was completely one-sided," said Tristan desperately. "

It seems relevant now," said Arora wryly.

"I am sorry," said Tristan, "she took a liking to me, but I have no feelings of 'that' kind for her."

"I forgive you," said Arora kindly, "I am not angry I just wondered why you never mentioned it. How did you handle it?"

"I thanked her for her thoughts and rode away as quickly as I could, directing her to Conrad with any further questions," said Tristan.

"Very nicely done," said Arora with a laugh, "I am glad you handled it better with me." She embraced her mortified husband and they both laughed.

"The other issue is Lyre," said Tristan, "the Order's pompous advisor to the Queen. For all I know, he still thinks I am part of the Order. He very nearly jumped for joy the day I rode for Astoria."

"Why not approach Conrad secretly?" said Arora, "if he is still in the city."

"He was still here the last I heard," said Tristan, "that is an excellent idea. He should be advised about this man from the Brotherhood as well."

"I should go," said Arora.

"You?" said Tristan with a sinking heart.

"Yes," continued Arora, "I am not known here and would not arouse suspicion. Perhaps I could even offer to do a private performance for the Queen, with no incriminating music of course. This is an investigation, not an outreach after all." Tristan could see the sense of it, but he hated to send her out into danger alone, but he had better get used to it. There was nothing he could do to stop it; it was as much her duty as it was his. He slept little that night and in the morning she sent a letter to the palace addressed to Conrad. Very soon, the courier returned with a reply. He would be delighted to see her in the late morning. Tristan spent the remainder of the morning going over any information he could remember that might be useful. She was not sure how much useful information she obtained but she acquired a vast collection of minutia; he tended to ramble when he became nervous. She had never seen him nervous except where her safety was concerned.

She faced him, "Tristan, whatever happens we must do our duty. You cannot lock me in a cage or keep me safe all the time, nor can I do the same for you. We must trust the Master in all things, including this. Please do not fret about my safety."

"You are right," said Tristan contritely, "I am sorry and I will try to cope with this better. I am not trusting the Master as I should. Your safety and mine are in his hands. I must not worry about things over which I have no control." Her answering smile was warm enough to thaw the Frigid Wastes in midwinter.

### Chapter 16

It was hard to let her go, but somehow he managed to say goodbye and wished her success in her meeting. She rode slowly through the streets wondering what to expect from the strange cast of characters she was about to meet. She had always preferred the honesty and simplicity of performing in villages and small towns; she did not like the intrigue and backstabbing found in royal courts and other seats of power. She could have easily found a position as a royal bard or minstrel but preferred a pastoral setting and roaming from village to village. These musings filled her mind until she reached the palace gates and told the guards her business. Her mare was whisked away to the stable and she was escorted to Conrad's quarters. It had been many years since she had met the man, but she remembered him as a cheerful and talkative sort of person. Her memory had not disappointed her. He bowed to her and said, "welcome to Vespera Arora. It has been far too long."

She returned his courtesies replied, "I come not only for a social call but also on urgent business." She then detailed what they knew of the Brotherhood and the sinister man they had been following.

He said, "so Tristan is back is he. It was probably wise of him to keep his presence hidden for the moment. Things are very unsettled in Vespera at present." He then described how a mysterious Count from West of mountains, from the lands between the mountains and the sea, had appeared in Vespera some months before. He said he was sent as an emissary by the Queen of Westria to the Queen of Vespera, though no other countries Conrad had queried had received such an envoy. He wondered why their small country had been thus singled out. Arora then told Conrad of Tristan's adventures in Westria and even more doubt was cast upon the shadowy Count Cisco.

To make matters worse, the man was engaged to the Queen! They were to be married as soon as he finished some business or other in the North. The man had just returned from a months' long absence and the wedding was to take place the day after tomorrow. It was obvious to both that the Queen was about to marry one of the members of the Brotherhood of the Serpent, and he was very likely the fugitive servant from Westria. Arora asked how the Queen had chosen him as a prospective husband. Conrad replied, "no one can explain it. One day he shows up on the doorstep unannounced and the next he is one of her top advisors and not very long after that she has announced that he will be her future husband and King of Vespera. I know she had a thing for Tristan a year ago, but that seemed to pass. I did not think she was this desperate! She did say that Tristan had told her to ask me about why he could not be her husband. I told her he had duties elsewhere and had taken Oaths preventing such an attachment. This seemed to satisfy her and she was in a very thoughtful mood for some days but then seemed herself again. She has been much more reserved and withdrawn since this Cisco character appeared. It sounds a similar case to what the Queen of Westria suffered under her advisor."

"Have you been able to break through this cloud of confusion, as Tristan's presence seemed to do in Westria?" asked Arora.

Conrad answered, "I have not been allowed near Her Majesty since she fell under the influence of this viper. I am only allowed to attend her at court and then I must sit in the very back. A private conversation is strictly prohibited. The only one of her advisors who seems to like the man is Lyre, but then he likes anyone who might advance his position in life. The few times I have been near the man the evil is nearly palpable."

"Do you think I can get near her?" asked Arora, "say for a private performance?"

Conrad smiled, "I can do even better than that! They need a skilled musician for the wedding ceremony and if your skill is half what it is reputed to be then you are a sure pick. They are holding auditions this afternoon."

"Perfect," said Arora, "then I had better go and get ready." She bid him farewell and left for the inn.

Tristan was very happy to see her again so soon though grieved by her news of the Queen's impending nuptials. He agreed that they must stop the wedding, and her plan seemed most likely to at least get them an invitation. What they were to do once they had crashed the wedding was another matter. Whatever the cost, the Queen must not be allowed to take any vows with the vile Count. Arora slipped into a suitable dress, tuned her instrument, and then headed directly for the auditions. The auditions were a simple affair. The music for the wedding was given to each participant and they were to play and or sing the pieces as best they could and the person who gave the most pleasing performance would be hired to perform at the wedding. There were several traveling musicians, a few local favorites, two bards, and a minstrel along with Arora. As she was the last to sign up, she was also the last to perform. When her turn came, the judges had pretty much decided that either the minstrel or one of the bards were sure to get the nod. But after a few minutes of hearing this no-name musician play there was no argument. She was given a copy of the music to take home and practice and told to report to the site of the ceremony first thing in the morning for the rehearsal. The other performers eyed her enviously but none could deny that she was by far the superior musician. Tristan spent the day trying to come up with some sort of plan and also arranging a disguise for himself. Arora returned to the inn, and nearly pulled her sword on the strange stooping man she found lurking in her room. It was Tristan. He had hunched up his back under a loose-fitting tunic and had somewhere acquired a realistic looking grey beard and ill-fitting cap (though a less sympathetic person might accidentally mistake it for a sack). He introduced himself as her new assistant; a deaf and crippled beggar upon whom she had taken pity. His sword fitted nicely in his makeshift cane. She laughed aloud at his disguise and decided that if his own wife could not recognize him, neither would their enemies.

The morning of the rehearsal dawned clear and blue with just a hint of warmth in the otherwise bitter wind, a promise Spring but not quite yet. She arrived with her faithful servant whose only job appeared to be handing her things with his one free hand (the one that was not busy holding a cane). He got a few strange looks, but most of those present were used to the eccentricities of accomplished artists and no more attention was given to the matter. They only cared about how well she performed, and if her performance the day before was any indication, nothing else mattered. The wedding seemed a straightforward affair. She would play some pretty though pointless music as the officials and guests were paraded in and seated. Then the presiding official (Lyre!) walked in to some very pompous music. After he took his place at the head of the chamber, the music would change to a somber yet beautiful melody as the groom walked in and took his place. An excited (and triumphant) march would then play as the bride entered, followed by her ladies and a guard of honor. The queen seemed rather bland for a bride-to-be on the eve of her wedding, but no one dared to comment. The mysterious Count went through the rehearsal as if he were enduring some tedious, though necessary task. They went through it several times and once everything seemed to be going perfectly the Queen begged to retire to her quarters due to an overwhelming weariness. Cisco watched her go with a predatory smile before he also left. There were a few more obscure details to be gone over but soon enough everyone was dismissed and asked to be present again the following afternoon. Tristan could not have asked for a better chance to perfect his plan.

The afternoon of the wedding arrived overcast and gloomy; bitter drops of rain fell on the gathered crowd as if nature itself mourned the event about to take place. The songstress took her place and performed to perfection. Her bent assistant stood in the back, unobserved and unnoticed. When he was sure no one was looking, he donned the uniform and armor of one of the guards of honor and took his place as the sixth man in the party (the unfortunate man whose place he was filling had mysteriously disappeared a few moments ago, thanks to some assistance from Conrad). With the faceplate of the helmet down nobody knew he was an imposter. Their turn came and they marched out, stationing themselves three on each side of the aisle. Once they had taken their stations and the music reached its end, Lyre readied himself to begin. Every eye focused on the front as the ceremony was about to begin. Then everyone froze in stunned silence as a loud voice said, "Count Cisco you are hereby under arrest; your sinister plot has failed. You will not continue with the ceremony."

"How dare you!" snarled Cisco as Tristan lifted his faceplate and came towards him with sword drawn.

"No, how dare you," replied Tristan, "you will not entangle the Queen so easily in your plots."

"If I cannot have her no one shall," said Cisco as he grabbed the apparently dazed Queen and shoved her to the ground. Her ladies rushed to her side and found her so deeply asleep at first they thought her dead.

"What are you doing here?" gasped Lyre once he realized who the interloper was, "I thought you dead or exiled or..." He drew his sword and was about to rush Tristan when he felt Conrad's blade at his throat and was forced to stay where he was. The other guards glanced from the prone figure of their Queen and to the reason for her current state, who Tristan held at sword point. They decided not to intervene on behalf of the man who might have slain their Queen. The audience watched in astonishment and no one moved.

"This man murdered two of my colleagues in Westria and forced me to flee," said Cisco to all within earshot.

"This man is part of a vile organization that plotted the overthrow of the Westrian throne and led me into an ambush. His colleagues were conspirators and traitors and he was forced to flee because their plot became known and the Queen of Westria called for his head. He plans to do a similar evil in Vespera," said Tristan.

"By whose authority do you attempt to arrest me?" asked Cisco.

"Does it matter whose authority?" asked Tristan, "you are a traitor and have violated the laws of Westria, Vespera, the Brethren, and the Order and I am sure you have done many other evils in the course of your service to the Brotherhood of the Serpent. Pick whichever authority you prefer. Now drop your weapon; I do not wish to use force but will." With that the man came at Tristan with a full-fledged attack. The battle was fierce, though short. He was very good with the sword but Tristan was better. As he lay dying Tristan asked, "where does the Brotherhood keep their headquarters?"

The dying man laughed, "fool, they have no headquarters. We are a secret and scattered people. If we had a headquarters we could be destroyed, but with no centralization we are impossible to eradicate! You will never destroy us..." he trailed off and said no more. Those gathered around gasped as he dissolved into an oily slick on the floor.

"How is the Queen?" Tristan asked.

"She still breathes though barely," sobbed one of her attendants. Tristan knelt beside her. She was very pale and cold to the touch; her breath came very slowly. Tristan felt an evil pall hanging about her.

"She is under some evil spell," he said, "she lives, but barely."

With the conflict seemingly over, Conrad dropped his guard on Lyre who then rushed forward and was nearly nose-to-nose with Tristan. He fumed, "what have you done? You have nearly killed the Queen and have murdered her fiancé. I am declaring martial law under the direction of the Order until we can get this mess straightened out. Guards, seize this traitor and take him away." The guards looked confusedly between Tristan, their Queen, and Lyre. "Now!" shrieked Lyre. "I would have your head immediately," grumped Lyre to Tristan, "if not for the recent changes in the Order's mandate which demands that everyone accused of a capital offense be given an objective trial. If I ever find out who is responsible for such a change I will have his head too!"

"You cannot declare martial law!" said Tristan.

"Of course I can," said Lyre, "I am a senior advisor to the Queen and an objective party."

"You are certainly not an objective party," said Tristan, "if I must stand trial for these supposed crimes I ask that Conrad preside over the proceedings."

Lyre glanced in irritation at Conrad, "he is no more an objective party than I. I hate to admit it but you are correct. I will send to Panmycea immediately for an objective overseer." He smiled wickedly, "I will also send Conrad back to Astoria to fetch an objective witness. It will be amusing to see what these Brethren think of you after your botched assignment there. In the meantime, we may amuse ourselves with an unofficial trial which shall greatly speed things along once our objective officials arrive." He turned to the assembled audience, "I invite you all back here tomorrow morning for what should be an enlightening and amusing affair." Conrad gave Tristan a stricken look but he shook his head in resignation. If Lyre was determined to go through with this, at least it would keep him out of trouble while they waited for the Queen to awaken or for someone with more authority to arrive. He tried to smile reassuringly at Arora; she gave him a glorious smile that told him he was loved and she was not afraid. The guards finally mustered their nerve and escorted him away. Conrad left immediately for Astoria. Lyre sent his secretary immediately to Panmycea. The Queen was placed comfortably in her chambers and was assiduously attended to by her ladies.

The audience dispersed and rumors spread quickly around the city and surrounding countryside. The next morning, the chamber was filled with curious townsfolk; nothing this exciting had happened in recent memory. The Queen did not appear to either improve or worsen. Arora spent a lonely night at the inn. She tried to calm Taragon, but he was restless and sensed Tristan's unease. Tristan spent an uncomfortable and restless night in the Palace dungeon and was the only prisoner currently being held. At the appointed time, Tristan was led out by two guards; his legs and hands were securely chained. He was made to sit in a rickety chair facing the assembled gawkers. Lyre, dressed in his best uniform, strolled importantly back and forth in front of the accused.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "let it be witnessed and affirmed by each of you that these proceedings are unofficial in that they are not carried out by an objective party. But also let it be noted that the evidence presented and gathered herein may be used when such an official trial takes place thereby speeding along the official trial and the execution of justice." He gave special emphasis to the word execution. He continued, "the man known to this body as Tristan is hereby accused of traitorous acts against the Kingdom of Vespera, the Queen of Vespera, and the Order of the Unicorn. He also stands accused of the murder of one Count Cisco and potentially of two as yet unnamed others in the country of Westria. All witnesses are advised to tell the truth under penalty of fine or imprisonment. These accusations each hold the penalty of death." He finished with an eager smile. He was finding far too much pleasure in this, but he blamed Tristan for the sudden loss of his advantageous relationship with Cisco and held him in contempt because of the Queen's apparent favor of Tristan over himself when last they met. He was more than happy to martyr Tristan, if only to please himself and correct the injustice he felt done to himself by the man. It was more circus and stage show than trial, but the audience loved the drama so Lyre felt justified in indulging himself. He allowed himself to be the first witness.

Lyre began, "about a year ago this man was sent to me by the Order with explicit instructions that he was to be trained in the arts of diplomacy and when ready he was to be sent on to Astoria. His tenure in Vespera was short, as was his later term in Astoria. Whilst in Vespera, he was continually putting himself forward before the Queen and impinging upon my rights as his senior officer and as the head advisor from the Order to the Queen. He even stooped so far as to try seducing the Queen in her own chambers. He rode out of Vespera only moments ahead of the guards sent to capture him. He eluded their pursuit and escaped to Astoria. There his conduct must have been abominable, as it lasted only a short while and he was summarily kicked out of the Order and exiled from Astoria. He then fled to the lands west of the Impassable Mountains where the dying Count revealed that he has also committed murder and treason. He has returned from exile only to wreak havoc upon this peaceful country and its beautiful Queen, who now lies near death in her chambers. What vile spell this man has cast upon her I do not know, but this evil is of his doing and he must pay for it. He has murdered an innocent man, and he has destroyed any chance of the Queen's happiness should she recover. He has also set the peace and prosperity of this country back for what may turn out to be decades."

It was all conjecture and theories, but from what little the audience knew, it could be the truth. Even if it was not, they found the whole thing fascinating. After Lyre finished his monologue, participants and observers of yesterday's events were called forward to tell of what they saw. By their varied accounts, it seemed that Tristan had infiltrated the honor guard, interrupted the ceremony, demanded that Count Cisco surrender, and then the Queen was thrown unconscious to the floor and Cisco was killed in the ensuing sword fight. The audience especially loved the part about Cisco dissolving into a puddle of black goo. The displaced guard was brought forward and said that someone had stolen his clothes before the ceremony and locked him in a room; his cries for help went unheeded because everyone was at the wedding. As the 'trial' progressed, it became clear that Tristan had plotted to interrupt the ceremony and kill Cisco. Whether Cisco or Tristan had placed the spell upon the Queen was questioned, but Lyre chose not to spend too much time on that little matter.

The trial continued for several days, each day worse than the last. Arora watched in stunned horror as each witness described in detail things that had never happened. Tristan seemed to cope with it with a bored sort of patience, though the creativity of the witnesses seemed to amuse him. He would not be allowed to defend himself until the official trial. Each day Lyre observed the singer in the audience and was moved by her beauty and obvious distress. After the day's proceedings, he summoned her to his quarters. She curiously appeared as directed and made her courtesies. He said, "my dear, I see that you are greatly distressed by these proceedings. You must not be afraid because justice will be swiftly done and this vile matter put behind us. You need not fear the evil man who is now safely in custody."

"I see," she said, "I thank you for your concern."

"It is ever my concern," said Lyre, "when any innocent lady is troubled by anything that I may correct. Once this fiasco is behind us, perhaps you will allow me the honor of dining with you at a time convenient to yourself?"

"Thank you for your invitation," said she, "it will receive all the consideration it deserves." He smiled and bid her goodnight; he was very pleased with himself about the way things seemed to be progressing with the trial and the lady. She left feeling as if she needed to bathe.

### Chapter 17

Sooner than expected, a party arrived from Astoria. Six of the Brethren, in full armor that shone silver in the sun astride their undisguised mounts rode into the city with a very old, but distinguished lady in their midst, also astride a unicorn. The faces of the men were grim and the lady was stern as a Queen passing judgment. The sight of the seven unicorns alone caused many people to stop and stare, but their riders also drew much comment and question. Who were these strange and dangerous folk that could master such beasts? Lyre came rushing into the courtyard, breathless with the appearance of having finished dressing in haste. The strangers halted their mounts. One of the men dismounted and handed the Lady from her saddle.

"Lyre?" she said in a regal voice.

"Yes ah?" mumbled Lyre.

"I am the Lady of Astoria, leader of the Brethren," said she, "I have not left Astoria in a century. What is the meaning of this summons?"

"Summons?" gasped Lyre. He looked pleadingly at Conrad, who was one of the six accompanying the Lady; he found no solace there, only grim and stony silence. "I did not summon, ah you, My Lady," said Lyre. "I asked that an objective official be sent to judge a pending case," he whined.

"It was as good as a summons," she said, "this matter concerns me greatly. Escort me to my chambers so that I may refresh myself and then I shall speak to this prisoner of yours." Lyre had little choice but to comply, though he begged her not to trouble herself by going down into the dungeons and bothering about such a minor problem. "Your Queen also lies in a state near death," she said, "I shall attend her shortly." Lyre bowed and hurried ahead of the strange party hoping the servants had prepared the rooms in time.

The Lady spent some little time recovering from the ride; they had pushed the unicorns for all the speed they possessed. Once she was clean and rested, she demanded that Lyre take her to the Queen personally. The Queen's state was unchanged; she was frozen in a living death. The Lady's heart went out to the stricken woman, and she could feel a chill of evil upon entering the room. She took a small glass vial out of her robes and knelt beside the prone form. She opened the vial and placed a single drop of clear fluid upon the Queen's lips. Color flared in her cheeks and she drew in a deep breath. Her eyes fluttered open and she glanced weakly around. "Rest now child," said the Lady gently. To those assembled there she said, "she will be many days recovering from this, but she will recover fully. She needs rest, a little exercise, and much good food."

"What did you do?" asked the stunned Lyre.

"A unicorn's tear," said the Lady, "is very effective in driving away certain vile enchantments. Now I must see your prisoner immediately." It was quite a procession that made its way towards the dungeons. The Lady's entire escort came and so did the desperate Lyre. Once they reached the dungeon, the men did a thorough sweep of the area and declared it secure. Lyre and her escort were to remain outside so the Lady might speak in private.

"Tristan?" said she. Tristan nearly jumped at the sound. Save for his public appearances and an occasional guard, he never had visitors.

He quickly stood, "My Lady?!" he said in surprise as he bowed. He continued, "what has brought you from Astoria?"

"You," she said wryly, "how do you get me into such situations?" Tristan tried to say something apologetic, but she laughed. "How are you?" she asked.

"I miss my wife and am tired of these farcical appearances I am forced to make on a daily basis, but otherwise I am as well as can be expected in such conditions," he said.

"Is Arora well?" asked she.

"I see her daily at the trial, she seems to be in good spirits," said Tristan.

"I will speak with her tonight," said the Lady. "Now tell me what has been happening. I have Conrad's view on things but I must hear yours," she said. Tristan told her everything that had happened from the time he arrived in Vespera in pursuit of Cisco. After he had finished she said, "this is all an unnecessary muddle, but I must wait until the officials arrive from Panmycea to finish it. I am sorry that you must remain here in the interim. I will have these daily appearances stopped however, and see if I can arrange some visiting privileges." He bowed in thanks and bid her goodnight. She was glad he was handling things so well. She only hoped the Order saw things her way. Lyre was aghast that she asked that the prisoner be allowed visitors, but he complied with her wishes. He was not surprised to learn that the daily mock trial must cease. She spent the remaining time until the contingent from Panmycea arrived driving Lyre absolutely mad. He was afraid of her and immediately did anything she asked of him. She found much joy in asking him to run all sorts of mundane errands. Lyre could not wait until the officials from the Order arrived. Tristan was greatly cheered by visits from his wife, Conrad, Pallin, Bristol, and the other Brethren present in Vespera.

Much to Lyre's joy, the day finally arrived when the officials from the Order came. None other than High Councilor Karly himself appeared with an escort of twelve men. Lyre thought the High Councilor looked very angry about having been sent on such an errand; all the better, perhaps the Councilor would act as a counterweight to that terrible Lady. Karly greeted Lyre coldly then said, "what is all this about?"

Lyre nervously replied, "a vile traitor has been discovered and swift justice is needed." Karly grunted noncommittally and asked to be shown to his chambers. After he had refreshed himself, he grilled Lyre on the details. After that, he wished to see the prisoner and then to meet the much fabled Lady of Astoria. Tristan was very happy to see Karly (plus several of the men in Karly's escort had previously served under Tristan's command). Karly greeted him warmly and promised to have this thing finished quickly. He then asked the details of what had happened. Tristan repeated what he had told the Lady.

After his interview with Tristan, Karly was escorted to the Lady who was waiting in a large sitting room. She rose regally and bowed to the High Councilor. He did the same. "It is an honor to make your acquaintance," said she.

"I have heard much of you Lady," said Karly, "and the privilege is mine. Though I must say, you have deprived me of one of my finest officers."

She laughed and said, "he was merely on loan to you Councilor. He has been my servant for over a century."

Karly seemed stunned at the remark, but said, "I see. What think you of this whole situation?"

She said, "it is a needless waste of time as far as I am concerned. Tristan may not have used the most diplomatic methods to bring this traitor to justice, but it seems the only sensible way he could have gone about it. I fear we are wasting time when we should be pursuing any more of these evil men who may be lurking about."

"I agree completely," said Karly. They talked for much of the afternoon and well into the night.

The morning of the official trial dawned bright and clear with a warmth in the wind that promised Spring's return. The officials assembled with their escorts and made an impressive display sitting in front of Tristan's rickety chair and facing the crowd. Tristan was to sit in the chair with his back to the crowd and facing the judges. Lyre would officiate from the floor as he felt necessary. Lyre felt certain that the day would turn out well for him and very badly for Tristan. He began, "ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you to this official trial. May justice be done." Tristan was asked to tell his side of things and relayed his story to the judges and the audience. Lyre was then asked for his side of things and he did the same. Pallin gave an account of their adventures in Westria. Conrad and Arora were then asked to tell their part of the tale. Lyre was aghast at their stories; he had never suspected Arora's involvement. A few more witnesses were called, but their stories conflicted and contradicted each other so much that they were dismissed. The Lady looked at Karly and they both stood.

The Lady said, "I find no reason for these proceedings and believe them to be a complete waste of time when we should be ferreting out the agents of this sinister Brotherhood."

"I agree," said Karly, "Tristan is hereby declared innocent of any and all charges. Lyre, you are hereby stripped of your rank and are to report to the next training unit to leave for the Northern Wilds. A new advisor will be assigned to Vespera in your place." Lyre looked mortified; Tristan looked pleased but not surprised.

A woman in the audience stood, her hood falling back to reveal the Queen, "should not I have some say in these matters?"

Karly and the Lady bowed and the Lady said, "of course. What is it you wish to say?"

The Queen began, "ever since Cisco entered my presence I have not been thinking clearly, if at all. I thank you for freeing me of his influence Tristan, but you continue to baffle me. I once freely offered you the position Cisco nearly took by treachery; I would offer it to you again if I thought you would take it. What are you doing here if not on an errand for the Order or out of regard for me?"

Tristan looked questioningly to the Lady who nodded and he began, "your Highness, I respect you greatly as a leader, but I have no feelings for you beyond those due a Queen and a Lady. As I no longer belong to the Order that cannot be what brought me back to your land. But in the service of the Lady I trailed Cisco out of the Northern Wilds and found him intimately involved in the politics of your realm. I am glad I could be of service to you and your country, but it was at the Lady's command I came hither." He bowed respectfully and resumed his seat.

The Queen said, "I see. I will be sorry (again) to see you go, but such is life. Though I am not sorry to lose Lyre's 'services.' May I request Tristan's presence as advisor to my court in his stead?"

Karly said, "he is no longer under my command. Your wish is not mine to grant."

"Conrad will continue in his usual duties. Tristan's talents would be wasted in diplomacy," laughed the Lady. The trial was adjourned to the delight of all but Lyre and a couple bloodthirsty members of the audience.

The Lady and Councilor Karly spoke much that day and as they parted he said, "it is an interesting proposal and I think the High Council will be pleased." She smiled in reply. Tristan wondered at the exchange. After many goodbyes were said both parties departed. Tristan and Arora traveled home with the Lady and her escort. Karly left one of his men to fill Lyre's post and personally saw to it that Lyre reported to his new unit.

After much debate, it was decided by the High Council that any member of the Order who wished to visit Astoria and partake of their educational programs was encouraged to do so. If they felt so moved, they could even take the Oath and become a member of both organizations. The Lady and Karly felt it would be of benefit to both groups. Word was also sent to members of both groups in all lands to be watchful for any more members of the Brotherhood and to stop whatever plans they had in progress.

Outside the storm raged and the Eastern Sea battered itself against the jagged cliffs. Within the aging castle, a man sat in darkness starring at a basin of black water. The surface rippled and what appeared to be a black, reptilian head with flaming eyes appeared. The creature said, "these Brethren are becoming a nuisance."

"Yes, my lord," said the man, "I can arrange for many of them to be eliminated."

"No," said the creature, "that would only make them martyrs. But if it can be done quietly and secretly you may dispose of those that make pests of themselves." The man bowed. The creature continued, "trying to trick our way into leadership is not working. We have lost agents on many fronts. Perhaps we need to try something more subtle. Perhaps we can use this beloved Order of yours?"

"The Order?" gasped the man, "they are falling in with these acursed Brethren, what use are they to us now?"

The creature smiled, "a little apostasy and false doctrine may be just the thing to take men's minds off of the Brethren and their ideas."

"Yes," laughed the man, "I shall see to it."

"Good," hissed the serpent as the image faded.

General Vrill stepped away from the basin and summoned a servant. He had many letters to write and plans to make. Outside the storm raged on.

### Book II

"Be thou my wisdom,

and thou my true word,

Thou ever with me,

and I with thee Lord.

Thou my great Father,

I thy true son,

Thou ever with me,

and I with thee one."

'Be Thou My Vision'

Irish Hymn

### Chapter 1

The rider approached cautiously along the trail; the mare caught some scent on the wind and froze. An instant later, an arrow buried itself firmly in the tree in front of which she would have been standing had she kept moving. She reared and began to backup, but before she had gone another step, an arrow buzzed through the air and embedded itself in her master's chest. He was dead before he hit the ground; the mare snorted and fled into the moonlit woods. The archer waited a long time before approaching his prey. The escape of the unicorn was irritating but not important, they were a nuisance but without her rider, she would not be bothering him again. Sometimes the beasts turned and defended or avenged their fallen masters, but this one must have sensed her rider's demise and chose not to risk her life in a useless pursuit. A stallion would probably have stayed to fight. He carefully approached the fallen rider but he had nothing to fear. The man was dead and already starting to stiffen. He drug the body off the path and went about the tedious business of hiding it. The man had been interfering with his assignment and needed to be removed, but only if it could be done secretly.

The mare stood outside the gates of Astoria blowing hard. The Lady was summoned immediately. The empty saddle clung forlornly to the mare's back at an odd angle. There was no sign of her rider, at least this time they knew something had happened. This was the third agent stationed in the East that the Brethren had lost contact with in the last six months. The other two had simply disappeared, along with their unicorns. The Lady patted the grieving creature's neck in understanding; she hated losing her people too, but it was a risk they all took in service to the Master. Her message delivered, the unicorn left the city and retreated into the depths of the forest to mourn her loss. When she was ready she might again bear another rider, if she could overcome her grief and risk having it happen again. The rumors from the Eastern Realms were disturbing at best, and the loss of three of her field agents stationed there meant something was dreadfully wrong. She suspected the Brotherhood of the Serpent was behind it, what exactly, she was not sure but she felt they had a hand in the rumors and were the reason three of her men now lay in unmarked graves. She turned quickly on her heel and returned to the castle. She had much to think about.

Tristan cantered his mount along the edge of the field and watched his men go through various drills and maneuvers. The last six months he had been pushing them hard. Once, overseeing the training of eight men would have made him cringe, but now it was routine. With so many new recruits, the need for competent teaching and leadership was desperate, especially since the Lady opened the Brethren's training program to members of the Order of the Unicorn. While many of the students from the Order did eventually take their Oath and become part of the Brethren, the influx of students stretched the Brethren's resources more than they had anticipated. The other concern that many of the Brethren quietly held was that the line between the Brethren and the Order as individual entities was becoming blurred in the minds of the common people and nobles alike. The line was quite clear to those on the inside, but those with only a casual acquaintance with either group often thought them one and the same. This meant that if the Order said something, it could be construed as having come from the Brethren and if one was not intimately acquainted with the doctrines of both it could become quite confusing. This was part of the problem in the East, people were hearing many things from many sources and no one was sure what to believe so each person simply chose what they liked best and considered that the truth. While the Brethren were bound by their Oath to the Master and his Truth, the Order could say whatever they wished whenever they wanted.

Tristan's men finished their assigned drill as he rode up and congratulated them on their flawless performance. They rode back towards the city, ready for the evening meal and pleased with the day's work. Tristan was hungry, but he was far more anxious for the company of his wife. Before he had married, he had never felt uncomfortable spending most of his time alone or in the presence of other men. Now he felt somehow deprived or neglected when forced to spend time away from his wife; there was just something...comforting...about your wife's presence, he had never before realized what he was missing! They arrived in the courtyard of the castle and sent the unicorns off to graze or whatever it is they do in their free hours. The men headed in for supper, but Tristan was stopped by a servant and told the Lady requested his presence immediately. He set out at once to find the Lady and was admitted to the small audience chamber in which she sat. He made his bow and saw at once that his wife and Pallin were also present. They all exchanged warm smiles. He took the seat the Lady indicated and gave his full attention to the Lady.

She began, "Tristan, I have desperate need of you in the field. We have lost three agents assigned to the Eastern Realms within the last six months; rumors flow abundantly from those countries saying truth is irrelevant and the Brethren's message is just as good (or bad) as any other, including that preached by Kerfluffle the Ogre!"

A storm of emotions played across Tristan's face as he assimilated her words. Sadness at the thought of missing his wife while on a field assignment, grief over his lost colleagues, curiosity over the strange rumors, excitement at doing something besides drilling new recruits, and laughter at the mention of the Ogre, all warred for dominance on his face and mind. He finally calmed the maelstrom and looked seriously at the Lady and said, "what would you have of me?"

She smiled warmly at him, "always ready to serve, however impossible the task I set you. You, Arora, and Pallin will ride East to sort out whatever is happening to the Brethren and Truth itself." Tristan's heart leapt for joy at the thought of traveling with his wife again; he also looked forward to Pallin's company. She continued, "Arora is to be the new bard in the court of Arca, (the capital city of the country of the same name), and Pallin is to travel about as an official representative of the Brethren seeking what information he can find and correcting any untruths he encounters. You are to travel about as well, though not as an official member of the Brethren. You may need to infiltrate the darker and seedier places that Pallin cannot go as a recognized member of the Brethren. You three are to work together to figure out who is responsible for our disappearing colleagues and this swarm of half-truths I am hearing from those lands. Arora will be our unofficial eyes amongst the nobility and the court; Pallin will be our official eyes elsewhere, and Tristan will be our secret eyes where the others cannot go. You will each be in constant danger of the dire fate met by my three missing servants. Do you understand and accept this mission?" All three nodded their understanding and acceptance. She looked fondly at the three of them and said, "then may the Master ride with you." They stood, bowed, and quietly filed out of the room.

They secured their portion of the evening meal and sought a quiet table where they could talk without disturbance. Pallin's first question was, "who is Kerfluffle the Ogre?"

Tristan laughed, "Kerfluffle is the ogre that supposedly eats small children who do not obey their parents. I would say he has little to say that is worthwhile, but if his counsel is as good as any we may as well all hang up our swords." Pallin had been a half-starved stable boy when Tristan encountered him on a return trip to Astoria. The child of a poor mother and unknown father, he had had little parental attention in his short life. Tristan had taken pity on him and brought him back to Astoria where he eventually took his Oath and became the well-grown warrior who now sat before them. "

When do we leave?" asked Pallin.

"We leave as early tomorrow as we can," said Tristan, "we travel together until Waymeet, at which point Arora will set off on her own for Arca. You and I will continue together until we reach the village of Darcy's Spring in southern Arca. There we must split up and stagger our entrance into the inn so that no one suspects we are traveling together. After that, only the Master knows."

They talked for several hours, but eventually had to go to bed for they must rise early. Pallin slipped quickly off to his room. Tristan and Arora opted for a quiet walk in the moonlit gardens before going to bed. "It will be strange," said Tristan, "not seeing you almost every day."

"Yes," agreed his wife, "but we knew these days were coming. It is what and who we are after all. Our teaching assignments these last months have been a nice break from constant travel, but the Lady has directed and so we must go."

"Always ready for duty," laughed Tristan, "one of the many things I love about you. I will miss you greatly, but at least we will be working in the same country." She smiled far too much for the weakness of his humor, but that was another thing he loved about her. They walked along in the moonlight just enjoying one another's company and wondering what the future held.

Morning came far too early, but just as the sun was peeking over the distant hills they set out on their journey. They traveled quickly, for the Lady's need was urgent, but it was a pleasant ride for the three companions. Too soon, they arrived at Waymeet where Arora turned East and headed for the capital city. Tristan and Pallin lingered a day at the inn to give her a head start. Then they began their own journey towards the village of Darcy's Spring; that village had been the last known location of one of the fallen Brethren. As they traveled, Pallin worked up his nerve to finally ask, "so what is it like being married?"

Tristan smiled fondly at the boy and said, "nice."

"That's it?" asked Pallin in astonishment.

"Well," continued Tristan, "it is much, much more than that, but that sums it up pretty well, at least assuming you are married to the right woman. It is not all sunshine and roses, especially being married to someone who has had ninety years to get used to doing things her own way. It takes a lot of learning, humility, and compromise, but eventually you figure things out and it is, well...nice! It is a lot like discovering that half of yourself has been missing all these years and finally finding it; it somehow completes you."

"I do not understand any of that," said Pallin.

"No," said Tristan, "it is something you must discover for yourself."

Pallin did not dare ask the other question that was burning in his mind and tried to think on other things. "What exactly is our plan once we reach the village?" he asked.

"You are to do as you were instructed by the Lady," said Tristan, "which is to correct some of these misconceptions in the minds of those you meet and see if you can discover anything about our missing colleagues. I will watch the reactions of those around you and see if I can find any interesting people. I fear that during this mission I may have to openly oppose or antagonize you. There will be no truth behind it, but I fear you may be hurt by it."

Pallin looked at him thoughtfully and said, "if it is for the sake of the mission I can handle it." Tristan smiled proudly, the boy had truly become a man. Then Pallin said more cheerfully, "of course if you really meant any of it you would violate your Oath and succumb to your very old age."

"Not a pleasant thought," laughed Tristan, "but true nonetheless." As a result of taking the Oath, the Brethren were gifted with lifespans sometimes reaching several centuries. If the Oath was violated or revoked, the man's natural age would soon catch up with him and leave him dead or quite decrepit. Tristan was over a hundred years old, and would not survive the event.

They rode on and talked of many things on their long road. Finally reaching the village, Tristan rode on ahead and took a room at the inn. Pallin lingered under the cover of the trees and arrived at the inn as the sun set. Tristan sat alone in a corner of the common room, clothed as a simple traveler. Pallin walked in and took a place by the fire, wearing his uniform. Several other men were sitting about in the room, either guests at the inn or locals who enjoyed the company and news found in such places. They glanced curiously at Pallin, perhaps hoping for a bit of news from such an interesting stranger. "And to which tribe or circus do you belong?" croaked an old man from the other side of the room.

Pallin smiled wryly at the rumpled old man and said, "I am of the Brethren and sworn to the Master and the Truth."

"Truth, bah," said the old man, "I have had enough 'truth' to last me a lifetime. If it is not one idiot chattering away about something, it is another."

"I do not chatter," said Pallin simply.

The old man continued, "one man says you can only drink so much wine, you cannot enjoy the company of a woman, and can only have your tea so warm if you want to please this master character. Another says that truth is whatever you think it is. Yet someone else says we are all just supposed to be happy so do whatever it is that makes you happy and if your neighbor needs help you can think about helping him out if it does not cause you too much trouble. Someone else says if we are good enough this master-creature will bless us and make us all rich. Another one says there is no master or any other 'superior' being and we are all on our own so we might as well do as we like. So which one are you?"

"I am none of those," said Pallin quietly, "if there is no Master or 'superior' being then from where does the Common Law spring and why are there any laws at all? Why is everything not anarchy or tyranny? That there is order implies there is someone who has gone to the trouble of putting things in order and most believe this someone is the Master. Of course laws and rules can be taken too far and need to be balanced with such things as love, freedom, mercy, forgiveness, and justice. Just obeying a set of laws or rules does not please anyone. It is the intent of the heart that matters. Blessing or lack do not come in response to our behavior, good or bad, but come according to the plans laid for each man's life; it is our responses to bane and blessing that truly matter, not our relative wealth or poverty. The rains fall on the fields of the rich and poor alike, those of the good and the evil; blessing is not hindered or helped by our wealth or want of 'goodness.' If each man looked out only for his own good, the world would be a very sad and desperate place, not to mention meaningless. If we all pursue 'happiness' and then die, what is the point? Our lives were made for something greater than ourselves; we have purpose and meaning, and that is to help and love others to the best of our abilities." The man seemed stunned into silence. He never thought such a young man could put his ideas forward so concisely in the face of cynicism.

Tristan asked from the corner, "how do we know this 'truth' of yours is the actual Truth and not just another dead end or needless conjecture or that perhaps there is no truth or maybe there are many truths?"

Pallin smiled good-humoredly at Tristan and said, "I am glad you ask my friend. Do you know how to milk a cow?"

Tristan gave him a puzzled look saying, "yes but why are you changing the subject. Do you not have an answer?"

Pallin caught the eyes of each man present in the common room, then confidently began, "we all assume that milk comes from somewhere. Most of us know it comes from cows (or other assorted female beasts). We also know that there is only one way to acquire milk, you must take a bucket and pull at the teat. You know milk does not come by yelling in her ear, scratching her back, or pumping her tail. So if we can believe something as simple as milk only comes from one place and is collected by one particular method, why is it so hard to believe that something as complicated as Truth and order are real and arise from a single source and are found in a single manner? One would assume the more complicated something is, the harder it is to get by random chance, from multiple sources, or by various means, which implies that order and law had to come from somewhere and that someone is the Master."

"I certainly never thought about it that way," said Tristan, apparently impressed. What had happened to that ill-spoken, scrawny child he had rescued from the stable? Out of the corner of his eye, Tristan noticed a sharply dressed man eyeing Pallin with strong dislike and knew the man would bear watching.

Pallin spent the next hour answering questions asked by the curious amongst his audience. On several occasions, Tristan made it obvious that he disagreed with the boy's views on varying matters with questions like, "how do you know for sure?" or, "you seriously believe that?" Pallin responded patiently and cheerfully to each question or misconception. Most of the listeners left with something to think about. Tristan remained Pallin's most vociferous adversary. The sharply dressed man said nothing, but watched the exchange with interest. After most of the men had retired to their beds, the mysterious man approached Tristan's table and asked if he could buy Tristan a drink. Tristan nodded and the man took a seat as the serving girl brought Tristan a mug of wine. "Have you encountered these Brethren before?" asked the man quietly.

"Here and there," said Tristan.

"Are you as skeptical of their message and intentions as I?" asked the man.

"How skeptical are you?" asked Tristan.

The man replied, "skeptical enough to wonder how anyone can honestly believe all the nonsense they do or live up to the standards they claim to uphold. It is humanly impossible."

"Humanly impossible, yes," said Tristan, "but this Master of theirs supposedly helps them in their quest to uphold his laws and precepts. What do you think of that?"

"I think," said the man, "that this master of theirs is a real creature, but I also know that there are other beings out there. Some who surpass even his supposed greatness. How great can he be if he leaves all his ambitions and purposes to be accomplished by mere men? There are powers out there that lend themselves greatly to those who seek more than their share of this pitiful mortal state. Power can be found by those who truly seek it."

"You sound as quasi-mystical as the Brethren," laughed Tristan.

"This is no joke," growled the man, "if you wish to know more, help me rid the world of yet another of these pesky Brethren. They are forever getting in the way and causing trouble."

"What must I do?" asked Tristan quietly.

Tristan ordered two mugs of wine and carried them to the table where Pallin sat alone, seemingly deep in thought.

"I am sorry for the skepticism earlier," said Tristan, "please accept my apologies."

Pallin nodded his acceptance and took the proffered mug. "What can I do for you?" asked he.

"I just wanted to know a bit more about you and your organization," said Tristan.

"I see," said Pallin. They spent the next half hour talking over mundane gibberish concerning Pallin's business in the area and generalities about the Brethren.

Then Tristan asked innocently, "so when are you leaving and where will your travels take you?"

"I leave at sunrise tomorrow," said Pallin, "I am headed towards the capitol by the main road."

"I should probably let you go to bed then," said Tristan, "I wish to thank you for your time and again apologize for my interference."

"It was no great trouble and I thank you for your concern," said Pallin.

"Before I go, I have a rather peculiar question to ask," said Tristan hopefully.

"Yes?" said Pallin with a slight grin.

Tristan whispered in his ear, "the man in the fine clothing has offered to let me kill you. He wants to know your time and route of departure. I suggest you take Taragon tomorrow instead of your own mount, that way I can alert him to your danger and he can keep you both safe."

Pallin forced a laugh and said aloud, "why such secrecy? It is no great secret that the Brethren ride unicorns. May the Master ride with you my friend." Tristan smiled blandly at his friend and returned to his table. Pallin shortly retired, leaving Tristan alone with the strange man.

"Well done," said the stranger, "but what was all that nonsense at the end?"

"I was just curious," said Tristan with a foolish grin, "and trying to put the man at ease."

"I see," said the man, "meet me tomorrow ere sunrise and we shall see what comes of it." Tristan nodded and retreated to his own room.

Early the next morning, Tristan emerged from his room and met at the designated place. It was damp and cold while they waited in ambush for Pallin. The other man was distinctly unpleasant to wait with at such an early hour (or any other time for that matter). As the sun finally made its appearance, the crunch of hooves on leaves carried on the wind. A unicorn could travel in absolute silence if need be; Tristan knew this one meant to be heard. He sensed Taragon approaching and smiled in anticipation, happy that Pallin had heeded his warning. The man nodded silently at Tristan who then drew back the string of his bow, ready to loose at the approaching rider. As the pair came into view, Tristan mentally bid the unicorn to halt. He obeyed immediately; then Tristan bid him run. Taragon snorted in disgust but hastily retreated as the arrow flew true, landing where Pallin's heart should have been had Taragon continued onwards. Tristan then allowed the natural results of his actions to follow their course. He felt the rage in the stallion and heard his scream of challenge. He heard the rasp of metal on metal as Pallin's sword left its scabbard and the thunder of charging hooves soon followed. Nothing is as terrifying as an enraged unicorn, save perhaps an irritated dragon. Tristan and the stranger fled from their impending doom, escaping into the deep tangle of brush and rock that would slow the charging beast. They ran for twenty minutes with the pair in distant pursuit until Tristan bid Taragon to gradually slow and give up the chase. He complied, though with much confusion, but such was his trust in his master. The pair ran on for a few more minutes until they were sure they were not pursued.

Tristan turned on the stranger in mock-anger, "what was that? We were nearly run down by that awful beast. I thought this was just a little chore that had to be done before breakfast? The Brethren are responsible for my current state in life, but I never thought to risk so much for the sake of so little."

The stranger sat down and could hardly laugh between his gasps for air, "you have lost nothing and gained much. You are a good marksman and would have hit your target had the beast not caught some hint of us and ruined your shot. The man lives, for now. It was no great worry to me if he survived or not. It would have been a pleasure to sink an arrow into his arrogant heart, but we may still have a chance to do so. He goes to Arca, so must I. If he becomes a problem he will be dealt with. The point of this little 'chore' was to test your heart and see what kind of man you are. Apparently you are not afraid to kill, even one so pious as the Brethren make out to be. I am in need of an assistant and last night I felt something about you, that perhaps you might be the man I was seeking." Tristan gave him an odd look. He continued, "you think I plot murder with every random stranger I meet?" Tristan shook his head wondering where this was going. "There is something about you," said the man, "that I find fascinating. Stick with me and you will go far." Tristan could not imagine anyone he would rather spend less time with than the stranger. "I am called Trap," said the man.

### Chapter 2

They walked quickly back to the inn. In their absence, Pallin had returned Taragon to the stable and retrieved his mare. Taragon waited impatiently in his stall (disguised once more as a normal horse) and laid back his ears in irritation at the morning's events, angry that he had not received so much as a warning. "You have done well old boy," Tristan said to the angry unicorn, "we must pretend again to be that which we are not." The animal seemed mollified and whickered in anticipation of their next adventure. They finished tacking up the horses and met outside.

"He looks a handful," said Trap, "have you ever thought of having him gelded?"

"He has his moments," said Tristan smiling, "but most of the time he behaves himself." Taragon laid back his ears at such a discussion. They rode in silence for the entire day. When they camped for the night in a secluded place, Tristan asked, "what are these 'other powers' you speak of and what do you know of this Master?"

Trap smiled knowingly and said, "I thought you were not interested in 'quasi-mysticism' or was I mistaken?"

"I trapped in the middle of this," said Tristan, "unless I miss my guess you will kill me if I do not cooperate?"

Trap said, "you see much. That is a valuable skill if used properly. If it is used improperly you can guess the rest. I will tell you more of these 'powers' as we travel, but tonight I will give you an overview." He began his tale, which was eerily to that which Tristan had heard so many years ago during his own initial training with the Brethren, but as with all things touched by the Enemy, it was twisted and deformed into a dark and hideous shadow, stricken of all beauty or hope: in the infancy of man, he was innocent and stunted. The Master had made him and all the world, but kept from his greatest creation the knowledge of true power. An aspiring warlord became aware of the path to true power and in the attempt to secure it for himself (via the life of his daughter) the Master tried to intervene, offering his own life in exchange for the girl's. The bargain was struck and the Master slain. Man's innocence came to an abrupt end, and all mankind awakened to the possibility of controlling their own destinies. While the warlord was overthrown, others rose to take his place and those who sought True Power could find it. In exchange for their meager lives, they could acquire true knowledge and power beyond mortal imagining in service to the one who overthrew the Master. The Brethren claimed a similar origin except their tale tells that the Master was not captive to the chains of death and came forth from the grave in triumph. They also claim this history as the origin of the unicorn and that the Master appears to mortals in the form of one of the cursed beasts. Whether he still lives or not, the Master was apparently not strong enough to overthrow the ultimate power completely and thus the Brethren still carry the tale that he has retreated from interfering directly in human affairs, save through his people and the choices they make. The power that overthrew the Master has no such qualms about appearing to advise and direct the actions of those sworn to him.

"Well?" asked the man. "That is quite a story," said Tristan, "I am either in league with a madman or someone who is confident in his plans, and I do not doubt your sanity. How does one go about 'seeking' this other power? It sounds dangerous."

"You will not have to make any hurried decisions," said the man, "but you must do as you are told and follow my lead. Previously, various associates of mine have tried to influence their way into political power hoping to gain control over certain nations and armies. The results were disastrous once the Brethren figured out what we were up to. Our new objective is to so dilute 'the Truth,' as the Brethren call it, that they lose their ability to influence the common people and the powers that move the nations. Where force does not work, confusion will suffice. Our main ally in this task will be the so-called Order of the Unicorn. Many of them are now sworn to the Brethren, but the others can be used to say whatever we choose to put in their mouths. The common people cannot tell the Order from the Brethren; it will be beautifully chaotic." Tristan had to admit it was a good plan, though he still did not understand completely how it was to be accomplished. The Lady's plans were working far too well, he thought uneasily. Hopefully Pallin and Arora were having an easier time of it.

Pallin rode to Arca without incident and found an inn on the edge of town. He would apply to the King on the morrow, but the majority of his time would be spent among the common people. It was Arora's job to keep an eye on the nobility. He still did not understand what exactly was going on between Tristan and the stranger. He had had no control whatsoever over Taragon, the whole scene must have been of Tristan's making. Tristan was too good a shot to miss with that arrow unless he intended to, which meant that the assassination attempt must have been some sort of test, and Tristan felt he needed to pass it in order to further the Lady's plan. If that was the case, then Tristan was walking a very dangerous line; he would be killed if he failed to obey his new companion and if he violated his Oath he would certainly would die.

Arora had arrived in Arca several days before Pallin. After a brief demonstration for the King and all the Court, she was welcomed as the new Court Bard and then allowed to retire to her quarters to recover from her journey. Her duties were to attend court and any other public functions and entertain as needed. She was also to present herself to the King and any of the nobility in residence at the palace that felt they needed a little music, entertainment, or cheering up. She kept quite busy, as she was a talented musician and the nobles were a very needy group of individuals. She was often considered part of the furniture or one of the servants, and as her music helped them to relax, people forgot she was even there and talked on endlessly about various plots, romances, and intrigues. She found it all rather tedious, but it fascinated the nobility to no end, but she neither heard nor saw anything that suggested a sinister plot to destroy the Brethren. She occasionally chatted with Bristol, who was the official advisor to the King for both the Brethren and the Order, but she spent as much or more time speaking with the various other sundry representatives to the court so as not to arouse suspicion. She missed Tristan terribly, but he had his duties and she had hers. She was sure he must be having a more exciting (and dangerous) time than she. Several days after her arrival, Pallin presented himself to the King. He did not spend much, if any time at court, but wished to make the king aware of his presence in the city. The King really did not care one way or another about yet another adherent to whatever doctrine or organization he belonged to. There seemed to be a confusing array of viewpoints currently expressed in Arca on every imaginable subject. Arora felt herself in the heart of a philosophical maelstrom. They had certainly found the center of the rumors and the source of the Lady's concern. Whatever might be spreading across the world had its epicenter in Arca.

The King loved to listen to philosophers, lawyers, poets, academics, and any other great (or seemingly great) thinkers he could find. It was not that he was such a great thinker himself, but he felt smarter by listening to others who were or claimed to be. What he truly believed himself, no one knew or really cared. In Arca, it seemed that one could think what one liked and say whatever one wanted as long as one did not force it upon others unwillingly. Everyone was willing to listen to almost anything, though what was said really had no impact on anyone else as each person had their own version of 'truth' and could care less about other views, save for a slight academic curiosity. For all of the intellectual noise floating about there was actually very little of worth said. The King (and everyone else) really did not care to distinguish the Brethren from the Order (and hence the need for a dual representative) and what one group thought, said, or believed, was pretty much assumed to be the same thing.

The relatively short ride to Arca felt the longest of Tristan's life. The man with whom he kept company was altogether evil, though in a frighteningly common-sense way. Talking to him, you would have no trouble imagining him to be someone's brother, cousin, friend, or husband: just an everyday person. But deep down in the core of his being there was no concern for anyone, just his own selfish desires for power. Everything he did was determined by whatever actions he felt would be the most beneficial to his current and future plans. He was a cold, calculating individual who made no decisions based on emotions or feelings; he did not seem to have any. He found amusement in various situations and enjoyment in certain activities but it was only a superficial, transient feeling that never touched his heart; there was nothing of joy, hope, gratitude, or any other such 'frivolous' feelings about him. His only motivation in life was acquiring as much power and status as he could; no matter the cost to himself or others. Tristan found nothing at all in common with the man. He found himself wondering how anyone could go through life so unaffected by other people, the beauties of nature, and so indifferent to all that is good and wonderful in the world. It was as if he forbade himself to feel either love or hate, good feelings or bad. He was indifferent to everything and everyone unless they got in his way or could advance his goals. Tristan felt that he was simply a tool to the man: a hammer to be thrown aside if broken or unneeded. He had been a man of duty most of his life, but never had he felt that he was simply one more spoke in the wheel. He had never lacked a sense of dignity in his work, but this man sucked all worth and joy out of everything around him. Previously, his enemies were at least able to hate him. This man seemed incapable of even showing that much concern. He was human in form but humanity was not counted among his traits.

Since Tristan had little to say, Trap did most of the talking. He spoke often, though never with much depth, on the various ways to achieve power and what could be attained if one abandoned concern over the trifling worth of others. He spoke little of himself, his current plans, or Tristan's role in things to come; when questioned about such things he merely shrugged. But he did ask Tristan, "you mentioned that the Brethren are responsible for your current state in life, how so?"

Tristan replied, "after the death of my parents, I became a thief to survive. I was caught and the Brethren had a great influence on how things turned out afterward. I ended up forever roaming the world, never finding a place to rest. Their meddling made me what I am today." In reality, the Brethren were the only reason he even survived, without their help he would have died in a prison mine within a year of his capture. They were the reason he was in his current situation, just not in the way Trap would see it.

Trap smiled coldly, "then I think you would be happy at the recent change in your fortunes."

"I suppose," said Tristan, "though I still wonder where this whole thing is going."

"You will see soon enough," said Trap.

The morning they were to ride into Arca, Trap handed Tristan a bundle of clothes as they were breaking camp. "What is this?" asked Tristan curiously.

"Just put it on," said Trap. Tristan unrolled the bundle and found a uniform he knew far too well. No matter where he went or what he did, he never seemed able to take off the uniform of the Order of the Unicorn for very long.

As they rode, Tristan asked, "what do you know of the Brethren?"

Trap gave him an irritated look but said, "as much as anyone I suppose. They claim to have some sort of oath to this Master of theirs that they claim must be kept at all costs. They have some sort of mind-control over their mounts; it is well known that unicorns are smart for beasts but are nonetheless unthinking animals. Their main headquarters seems to be in Astoria and their leader is known as 'the Lady.' They travel the world interfering in everyone's business and preaching their so-called truth. They do have an excellent training program and produce some of the greatest musicians, warriors, and scholars in the world. That is about all that is known of them to me. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," said Tristan, "I want to know as much as I can before dealing with another one."

Tristan, now resplendent in his new Order uniform, rode silently through the streets of Arca with Trap beside him. Trap said, "you are now an unofficial member of the Order of the Unicorn."

"Are you an official member?" asked Tristan.

Trap smirked and said, "I have my connections."

"The Order is bound to have a representative to the King," said Tristan.

"Of course," said the other, "and we are here to replace him."

"What if he will not cooperate?" asked Tristan.

"Then you get to deal with him," said Trap, "that is what minions are for." Tristan grimaced, but did not ask any more questions.

They approached the main gate to the palace and dismounted as the guards questioned them. Trap presented a copy of his 'orders' to the guards and they were allowed to pass. Servants came to take their horses and one led them to the King's audience chamber. The King was seated on a throne at one end of the chamber while various nobles, lords, generals, and advisors stood or sat along either side, leaving open a center aisle. Trap walked forward confidently and gave the King a minimal bow. Tristan walked some distance behind and gave a more formal bow.

Trap did all the talking, "your Majesty, I bring you greetings from the High Council of the Order of the Unicorn. I shall be the Order's official advisor to your Majesty."

The king looked a little confused and said, "do I not already have an advisor from your Order? Brindle...or whoever you are, what is going on here?"

Bristol emerged from the crowd of courtiers and stood before the King. He bowed and said, "your Majesty I have received no notice of such a change." He glanced curiously at the newcomer and Tristan.

"Here are my official orders," said Trap, handing them to Bristol.

He glanced at what appeared to be genuine documents and said, "I see that I am to be replaced immediately by this man, but I do not understand why."

"Well," said the king, indifferently, "you had best figure it out amongst yourselves. I really do not care who 'advises' me, as I never really listen to anything you say anyway. Arora! Some music!" The three men quickly moved out of the middle of the hall and into a secluded corner to talk. Tristan peered longingly over his shoulder as his wife began to play. She gave him a small, loving smile and continued her song.

"I do not understand," said Bristol, "I should have received some word that I was to be replaced. Where is my next assignment to be?" He glanced curiously at Tristan but said nothing of their acquaintance.

"I do not know," said Trap, "perhaps the messenger was lost or delayed, things happen. I just know that I am to take this post immediately."

"And what of me?" asked Bristol.

"I do not care," said Trap, "just go away and do not bother me."

"I can at least remain as the Lady's representative to the King," said Bristol irritably.

"The Lady?" asked Trap.

"Did you not know I was a dual representative for both the Order and the Brethren?" said Bristol.

"I see," said Trap, "perhaps that is the reason for your dismissal. Perhaps the High Council feared a conflict of interest. You will have to take it up with them."

"I will," said Bristol. He bowed to them coldly and walked away.

Trap whispered to Tristan, "he will become a problem. I had no idea he represented both groups, perhaps I can do the same. The King does not know of any difference between the groups and the nobles do not care. This Bristol must be disposed of. I think that will be your first official task as my apprentice."

"Apprentice?" gasped Tristan.

"I told you I needed an assistant," said Trap with a cold smile, "if you work out as well as I hope, you could go far under my guidance."

"But to whom or what am I apprenticing myself?" asked Tristan.

Trap glanced around cautiously but there was no one within earshot, "why to the Brotherhood of the Serpent."

"The what?" asked Tristan.

"The real power in the world," said Trap, "the Brethren are nothing compared to us." Though he expected it to be the case, it was still a difficult truth to comprehend. He had fought these evil men and chased them halfway across the world; he never expected to be working closely with them.

They found a place to stand amongst the courtiers and listened to the music. After Arora had played as much as the King wanted for the moment, a philosopher was brought forth who spent the balance of the day spouting nonsense. What a tedious way to spend a day, let alone a lifetime! Tristan suddenly pitied Bristol and Arora, though he would not wish his current position on either of them. After the court was dismissed, everyone retreated to their rooms for the evening; a servant found Tristan and Trap and led them to their assigned quarters. Once they were alone, Trap said, "I think this Bristol needs to disappear tonight, and secretly. Can you handle that?"

"I will see to it that he is not here at sunrise," said Tristan as a cold fist clenched his heart.

"Oh yes," said Trap viciously, "I want evidence that he has been dealt with."

Tristan nodded dully, grabbed his weapons, and left the room. Tristan found a servant who took him to Bristol's quarters where he knocked on the door. "Who is it?" came a muffled voice from within.

"I have come to speak with you about today's confusion," said Tristan.

Bristol cracked the door open and said tersely, "come in then, if you must." He nearly grabbed Tristan and drug him inside. Once the door was safely closed and no servants were within earshot Bristol pulled Tristan into a great hug and laughed, "it is wonderful to see you!"

Tristan smiled weakly, "it is a pleasure to see you as well, I just wish I had better news."

"You have rejoined the Order?" asked Bristol.

"Not exactly," said Tristan, "the man you met today, the one I am currently forced to travel with, is an imposter."

"I thought as much," said Bristol, "what is he up to?"

"I do not know what he intends," said Tristan, "but I believe he is responsible for the disappearance of three of the Brethren in this region over the past six months. He has already attempted to kill Pallin."

Bristol stared hard at Tristan and asked, "what does this have to do with you, me, or the Order?"

"You have seen Arora and Pallin?" asked Tristan.

"Of course," said Bristol.

"The Lady sent the three of us into Arca to discover the fate of the missing Brethren and to find out what is behind all these confused rumors she hears from the Eastern Realms. You have seen what Arora and Pallin are about, but my own quest has taken a bizarre turn. I am currently traveling with a member of the Brotherhood of the Serpent and he wants me to join his little society."

Bristol stared at Tristan in disbelief. "You?!" asked Bristol.

"Yes me," said Tristan grimly, "this was not my idea, but this is a perfect opportunity to discover what makes the Brotherhood tick. The only problem is that I may wind up dead by the end of it. I need to figure out how to play along with this wretched man without violating my Oath. Once the choice comes between violating my Oath or revealing my identity, I believe it will come to a fight, and who knows who will prevail? My current assignment is to murder you."

"Thank you for asking," said Bristol, "I cannot abide murderers who do not ask politely before killing someone."

Tristan laughed for the first time in days. "It does seem a bit odd, does it not?" he said, "I just wish I knew more of what he is up to, but to figure that out I will have to survive a little longer, which means obeying him to the best of my abilities. So how shall I go about killing you?"

Bristol smiled at Tristan's forced humor and said, "I can slip out of the palace unseen tonight and ride for Astoria immediately. I shall inform the Lady of your current situation." He sighed but said with a proud smile, "you have been a good friend and I hope to see you again." They hugged once more and then Bristol handed Tristan his tunic. Using a dagger they ripped a hole in it and Bristol then used the knife to slash his palm, and dribbling some of the blood onto the tunic. "That certainly looks like someone died in it," said Bristol with a grin.

"Now how do we dispose of the body?" asked Tristan.

"Simple," said Bristol, "we will fetch our mounts and ride out to a little tavern I know. After we get roaring 'drunk,' we will ride off together into the woods around the city and you will return alone. Everyone else will think I have spent the night drowning my sorrows and then rode off disgraced into the night. While this 'friend' of yours will think you handily disposed of me." It was as good a plan as any Tristan could think of.

They went to the stables and saddled their unicorns and rode out to the little inn on the edge of town; it was a pleasant place full of friendly people. It seemed the favorite pastime of the Arcans was to sit around and listen to the latest ideas, revelations, or theories, most of which were complete nonsense, whether at court or in the local tavern. Tristan and Bristol ordered copious amounts of alcohol but consumed very little. Bristol got louder and 'drunker' as the night progressed and by the small hours of the morning seemed completely inebriated. They left the inn staggering and mounted their horses, riding drunkenly into the wooded hills. No one ever saw Bristol come back. Tristan slipped quietly into the palace and found his way to the rooms he shared with Trap. It was pitch black inside and a voice from the darkness said, "well?"

Tristan said, "he will not be bothering us any longer." He tossed the bloodied tunic in the direction from which the voice had come. Trap lit a candle and examined the garment.

"Very good," said Trap, "and no one will suspect anything?"

"We went out and 'got drunk' together; it will be assumed he was drinking away his misery and rode off into the darkness to hide his shame."

"Well done," said Trap, "now get some sleep."

### Chapter 3

Bristol had not gone far when he heard the sound of pursuing hooves. He pulled up his mare and drew his sword. The canter slowed to a walk and the rider came into view. Bristol put up his sword as he recognized Pallin. Bristol gasped, "you startled me. What are you doing out here at this time of night?"

"I could ask the same of you," said Pallin with a worried grin, "what are you and Tristan up to?"

"He just 'murdered' me," said Bristol with a grin, "have you never talked to a dead man before? This character he is currently traveling with belongs to the Brotherhood. Tristan hopes to find out more of what the man is up to, but he is afraid he will not live long enough to do so. Murdering me was his first real assignment."

Pallin smiled, "at least he succeeded this time, he had his chance to kill me but I survived. Is there anything I can do to help with this precarious mission of his?"

"I do not know," said Bristol, "we should both go before we are seen. I am supposed to be dead. Farewell!" The mare took off at a gallop and quickly disappeared into the darkness. Pallin was left alone, wondering what to do next.

The next morning it was discovered that Bristol had disappeared in the night. Trap assumed his duties immediately and no one noticed the switch. It was not as if either of them would do anything important as a mere advisor to the King. Advisors were kept around simply to mollify the various countries or organizations who sent them, and perhaps to offer a bit of distraction whenever all else became dull. In reality, Arca was a very dull country to rule. It was a prosperous manufacturing city and trade flourished. The people were quiet, obeyed the laws, and paid their taxes. The nobles and merchants oversaw much of the day-to-day running of things and no country currently threatened war. All in all, it was a rather uneventful time to be King of Arca. Thus, most of the King's time could be spent in leisure and recreation. He frequently went hunting, held balls and jousts, and invited artists, musicians, and storytellers from all corners of the world to amaze and thrill the court. Tristan wondered what Trap's plans were for such a leisurely kingdom.

The morning after Bristol disappeared Trap said, "you have done well with your first task. I think I can trust you with a bit more of my plan. My assignment or perhaps I should say our assignment, is to maintain the level of philosophical nonsense currently afflicting Arca and to use this city to spread such confusion across the world. Our masters thrive in confusion and chaos. We tried covertly to overthrow various thrones, but were discovered. This plan is much more subtle and may take decades to come to fruition, but it will be that much harder to stop. The strength of the Brethren is in their concise definition of the Truth. We are to offer many alternatives to their truth. If there are enough interesting or semi-realistic 'truths' out there, it will make the Brethren's message that much harder to hear and believe. Agents are being sent throughout the world to ensure that such 'truths' are spread everywhere, but it may take generations to effectively destroy the Brethren through attrition. Our masters have waited millennia for their chance to conquer the entire world and they are willing to wait as long as it takes. This method is much harder to implement and measure progress with, but if we succeed, no one will take the Brethren seriously and their doom will be assured. Then there will be little if any impedance to our masters' conquest. I will stay in the palace to make sure our plans are running smoothly in this epicenter of confusion; you will travel throughout the countryside to observe how well things are proceeding there. Once Arca is firmly in the grip of nonsense, we can further spread confusion throughout the world."

It all seemed very vague and foggy to Tristan but the Brotherhood did have a point. If the people could not unite behind a common idea, be it a country or a creed, then they would be that much easier to split apart and destroy. Tristan feared evil was brewing beyond the bounds of civilization or perhaps within, just waiting its chance to cover all the world in darkness and confusion. Once truth vanished and everything became relative, no one would care about anything above their own wants and needs. With so many voices proclaiming 'truth,' eventually everyone would stop listening and just do what they felt was best for themselves. It was vague, but over time it could do much more damage than conquering a kingdom or two might have done. Tristan wondered how to stop the onslaught. War and death often reminded one of things like love and life. It was hard to remain relativistic when confronted with violence and pain and death. Peace, comfort, and idle thoughts easily breed indifference and apathy. Kingdoms could be conquered without the shedding of blood! No wonder they wished to keep any necessary violence quiet; violence would rouse the people from their indolence. He did like the idea of leaving Trap's company for a time to make a tour of the outlying villages and towns, but he did not like leaving the man unattended in the same palace as his wife. He had little choice if he wished to find out more about this sinister Brotherhood; he only hoped he would have time to speak with Arora before he left.

Tristan and Trap attended the morning court together. As usual, nothing of interest occurred. As the group broke up for the midday meal, Tristan found himself seated next to his wife. "Welcome to Arca," said she, "do you plan to stay long?"

"I believe I will be in and out," said he, "I do not yet know what my duties will entail."

"It is lovely weather for travel," said she with an amused smile.

"Yes," said Tristan, "but there are many dangers upon the road. Some dangers even lurk within protective walls."

"I believe you are correct," said she, "we must be careful wherever we tread."

"I quite agree," said Tristan. They said nothing more to each other and attended to their food.

Trap found Tristan after the meal, "what are your thoughts on the singer?"

"She is very pretty and sings beautifully," said Tristan, "but I fear we did not find much to discuss over lunch. Perhaps she is not a very skilled conversationalist?"

"A pity," said Trap, "I had hoped she was at least as intelligent as she is beautiful. I do enjoy an intelligent woman, perhaps I must look elsewhere." Tristan pitied any woman that caught Trap's eye. "You are leaving tomorrow for Middlebeck," Trap continued, "from there make your way throughout the villages and towns in the Eastern part of the country. I want to know how befuddled those in the outlying villages are; those in the city are coming along nicely. Report back to me within two weeks." Tristan nodded his agreement and went to pack for his journey.

The next morning before dawn, he was in the stable saddling Taragon. He rode slowly out of the city and glanced back longingly at the palace where his wife slept. He hoped she would not catch Trap's eye again. As he stood in the middle of the road heading East looking back towards the city, Tristan saw a rider approaching from the direction he had just come. He waited patiently as the rider approached; it was Pallin. "Where are you going?" asked the boy.

"I have been told to tour the Eastern towns and villages and assess their level of 'confusion' and the progress of the Brotherhood's current schemes. I will be gone for two weeks," finished Tristan.

"I met Bristol in the woods the other day and he told me about your predicament. I will keep an eye on Trap and protect Arora as best I can," said Pallin. Tristan nodded his thanks; his heart would rest easier knowing Arora was not alone with Trap about the palace. Pallin continued, "I think I can take Bristol's place as advisor to the King for the Brethren."

"The King is not going to care one way or the other," said Tristan with pathetic attempt at a smile, "but it would get you access to the court. Just be careful not to upset Trap too much or you may be his next target; he is not so compassionate a killer as I." He continued, "how go things in the city?"

Pallin said, "things are very tedious. Everyone talks at once and no one says anything of substance. I wish I could pack them all off to Astoria for a week for a good dose of reality."

"I understand," said Tristan, "the court is even worse! May the Master ride with you." He smiled broadly at the young man and cantered off, his heart a little lighter. Pallin stared after him, wondering what would come of this strange adventure.

Pallin presented himself to the court and was apathetically accepted to fill one half of Bristol's former office. Trap was not happy at the turn of events, but the man was quiet and did not seem to unduly influence anyone so he let the matter rest, at least for now. Perhaps when Tristan returned he would give him another chance at the man. Arora did not show it, but was pleased to have a friendly sword nearby. She did not like Tristan's new acquaintance in the least. He often tried to chat with her during idle moments at court, but she feigned ignorance, hoping he would take her for a halfwit and leave her alone. He did not take the message. Pallin paid her some attention, but not enough to cause controversy. He was a welcome change from the idle prattle of the nobles and the coldness of Trap. The whole situation was wearying for everyone involved. How did people live like this?

Tristan made good time on his tour of Eastern of Arca. Middlebeck was a prosperous town on the coast of the Eastern sea. He stopped at many inns and talked to anyone along the road who would listen and answer his questions. The further East he went, the more grounded and receptive people were. The closer to Arca, the less thoughtful and more vociferous people became. Throughout his journey, he met a variety of people traveling about and spreading various messages. There were current and former members of the Order that told any number of nebulous tales about their view on reality. He also saw a few sinister characters that he thought must be associated with the Brotherhood. The more confusing and far more numerous traveling raconteurs he encountered claimed to be graduates or students of the University. When asked what exactly the University was they became very defensive and stuffy, claiming it was a legitimate institution and he had no right to question it. He was not trying to question its validity, he was simply trying to clarify what exactly the University was.

He changed tactics and feigned interest as a potential student, saying he had heard much about the institution and wished to know more. This encouraged and excited the alumni and current students, and they happily answered any questions he asked. It seemed the University was founded only a few years ago, in the neighboring country of Syre by a wealthy philosopher to promulgate the collection and dispersal of knowledge. Students could attend at no cost to themselves and part of their assignment was to go forth and spread whatever knowledge they had acquired during their short stay at the institution. Once they completed a certain number of such journeys and written a sizable document about something of interest only to themselves, they were allowed to call themselves Scholars. Many journeyed about spreading their 'wisdom' or sought positions as advisors or teachers. It was a perfect plan to disseminate faulty logic and flawed philosophy. No wonder the people of Arca were unwilling to listen to anymore 'preaching!' Arca seemed to be the favorite destination for these would-be scholars. Strangely, or not so strangely, none of the Scholars or students ever said anything that ever agreed with what anyone else said even though they were from the same school. Whatever they thought they were learning was not of much academic value, but was highly effective at confusing and distorting the Truth. The more sinister characters he had observed seemed well pleased with the results. Trap would be happy.

By the end of his two-week stint in the East, Tristan was ready to go home, even home to Trap. He had heard enough nonsense to last a lifetime, even a lifetime of several centuries. Right on time, he reported to Trap. "Very good," said he, "it seems our little experiment with the University is a success."

"Our experiment?" asked Tristan.

"Yes," said Trap, "members of the Brotherhood have convinced various generous personages to donate to this institution in exchange for a professorship. They are allowed to teach whatever they want and students are encouraged to develop their own truths. It seems to be working very well. We are producing a crop of poorly educated scholars eager to spread their own variant of truth as far and wide as possible. The more people who hear their own ideas, the more important and well-known they become. Pride begets pride and ignorance begets ignorance. It is beautiful! We have agents in the field overseeing the students' progress locally, I am sure you noticed a few of them."

Tristan nodded, "I also saw several members of the Order going about proclaiming gibberish. Do you have agents in the Order as well?"

"The Order wants to expand its educational opportunities," said Trap, "they have reached out not only to the Brethren, but now to the University as well. If this succeeds locally, within a decade we hope to have a major University in every civilized country." Tristan could not imagine what hordes of wandering scholars would do to local economies. The young men who should be plowing fields, building houses, defending their countries, and fathering children would instead become part of a useless and clueless army roaming aimlessly about the world giving nothing back to society but vacuous words. It was a brilliantly evil plot.

"I have a great interest in this singer," said Trap, "purely recreational of course, but I can never get anywhere near her without our friend from Darcy's Spring getting in the way. I think it would be amusing if you challenged him to a duel for the honor of the lady."

"Me?" said Tristan.

"Is there anyone else here?" snapped Trap, "yes, you. I am an official advisor to the King, I cannot go about starting duels; I might get hurt. Besides, just think of it as your chance to correct your gaffe when first you tried to kill the man."

"I cannot start a duel with one of the Brethren!" said Tristan, "I will end up dead; the man is a trained warrior. Besides, can he accept a duel if he is bound by this Oath of his?"

"If he feels it is in defense of the innocent, I am sure he will oblige you," said Trap, "I would hate to see you die when you have been so useful, but it is a risk I am willing to take. If you survive, I think you may be ready to take your first step of initiation into the Brotherhood."

"First step?" asked Tristan.

"Yes," said Trap with a cold smile, "so far you have been a freeloader with no real commitments. If you survive, you will be required to take an oath of service to my masters. Or I will kill you myself."

"I will see what I can arrange," said Tristan glumly.

"Tomorrow will do for this little entertainment," said Trap. Tristan left the room to find a secluded place to think. Trap indifferently watched him go. Tristan was useful, but could be replaced. This would be entertaining no matter how it ended.

### Chapter 4

Tristan walked alone in the palace gardens; it was a moonless night and the darkness suited his mood. The man wanted his wife, not because she was an amazing woman, but because he thought she would offer him some small excitement or thrill to temporarily warm his frigid heart. Death was imminent. He would break Oath and die if he killed Pallin or swore his soul to serve some vile demon (not that he had any desire to do either), but Trap would kill him if he did not do as he was told. Tristan was not afraid to die nor did he fear Trap's martial skills, but he was so close to learning more of this vile Brotherhood, yet the time had come too quickly when he must abandon the chase. At least this University thing was worth knowing about. Now the only question was, what were they to do with Trap and should they abandon their various roles in Arca? He paced in the darkness for some time before deciding he must see Arora.

He crept cautiously through the halls, careful not to be seen by anyone. He had donned a hooded cloak to hide his identity, just in case there were any midnight wanderers abroad. He was about to knock on her door when another man, also hooded and cloaked, stepped out of the shadows, sword drawn. "Who are you?" hissed a soft voice, "and what is your business here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," whispered Tristan in grim amusement, "I mean no harm, I have come seeking counsel."

"In the middle of the night?" hissed the stranger.

"What are you doing threatening me with a sword at such a time and place?" asked Tristan.

"I am here to see that the lady is not disturbed," said the stranger still gripping his sword.

"I am the last man to harm her," said Tristan lowering his hood.

"Oh!" said Pallin, putting away his weapon, "I am sorry, but that evil man has been lurking about night and day. I did not know you had returned."

Tristan smiled and said, "this concerns you too, we have much to discuss." Arora, awakened by the exchange, quietly cracked the door open and nearly shrieked in joy, but restraining herself, drew both men into her chambers. She flung her arms about Tristan, weeping in sheer joy. The presence of Trap had unsettled her and only her husband's strong arms seemed to offer any protection from the vile man. She could hold her own in a sword fight, but she could not defend herself against the awful man's eerie presence, and she feared what thoughts might be coursing through such a mind.

She thanked Pallin for his constant vigilance and again embraced her husband. Pallin looked away, blushing. Once she was satisfied that Tristan was well and not likely to vanish immediately, they sat down to discuss what to do next. Tristan outlined Trap's proposal for a duel and his choices in the matter. They agreed that it was time to end the secrecy. Arora thought that she should stay in Arca as court bard, just to keep an eye on things. Word should also be sent to Astoria to fetch back Bristol to resume his former position and assist Arora in her observations. Tristan and Pallin would investigate the University. The only question was, what to do about Trap? He certainly could not be left free to carry out his plans or to harass Arora. Tristan had captured members of the Brotherhood before. One had killed himself with his own dagger; the other had somehow willed himself to death. Tristan wanted to capture the man alive and take him back to Astoria for questioning, but he doubted their ability to keep him alive once he was captured. In any case, Trap would probably end up dead. Keeping things quiet would also be preferred, especially protecting Arora's identity as one of the Brethren. It was very late before they were happy with their plan and Pallin retired to his room. Tristan went back to Trap's rooms sometime later after having spent some time alone with his wife.

Trap was awake or woke-up when he returned. "Well?" he asked.

"Everything is settld," said Tristan, "tomorrow will be an interesting day."

"Good," said the man as he blew out the lamp and went to sleep. Tristan tried to follow suit but lay awake until nearly dawn, thinking about their plans for the next day.

The court assembled after breakfast as usual, ready for another weary session of listening to yet another blathering imbecile. Before anyone could stop him, Pallin stepped before the King, bowed and said, "your Majesty, I must beg your pardon, but duty bids me to proceed. There is one here amongst your court that has impugned the honor of a lady and endangered her safety. I beg your forgiveness, but I must declare a duel betwixt myself and this vile personage." The King was most interested at the offer of bloodshed, as was most of the court. Trap smiled predaciously in anticipation.

"Proceed as you must," said the King.

"Then," said Pallin, "I hereby challenge the representative from the Order of the Unicorn to a duel."

"You mean my assistant," said Trap dangerously.

"No," said Tristan, "he means you. I have done nothing to dishonor the lady in question."

"Very well," snarled Trap, "I accept, but only because I relish the thought of killing you. You and all your colleagues are nothing but a nuisance and I would like nothing better than to rid the earth of you." He glared dangerously at Tristan, "when this is finished I will deal with you." Tristan shrugged and smiled blandly. The two lines of spectators came together to form a circle with a large open space in the center. The combatants tossed aside their coats and other bulky clothing and faced one another with swords drawn.

"This is a fight to the death," intoned an official voice from somewhere amongst the crowd, "fight honorably and die well." The crowd cheered in anticipation. A little bloodshed was just the thing to ease the tedious hours before lunch.

Pallin waited patiently for Trap to make the first move. The two circled each other, taking half-hearted swings at their opponent, testing the other's responses. Then Trap lunged in and the fight began in earnest. Pallin took a glancing blow on the shoulder, but hardly noticed. Trap's sleeve suffered a mortal blow, but the man himself was unscathed. The audience gasped and cheered at all the right moments. It was a close fight, but Trap had the advantage of experience, strength, and height. Pallin was less experienced but was also smaller and quicker. Neither was making much progress, but Pallin seemed to be flagging. His breaths were coming in gasps and sweat rolled down his face. His left arm throbbed and hung uselessly at his side. The small nick ached as if it had suddenly become gangrenous. Trap smiled in anticipation, his foe was weakening and the kill would soon follow, if the wound did not kill him first.

"Getting tired boy?" scoffed the evil man. His blade was laced with many vile spells that made the smallest wound fatal. A horrible clattering sound came from the corridor, the doors of the chamber were flung aside, and an enraged unicorn thundered into the hall. The crowd drew aside from the furious creature. Trap drew back from his victim in horror. She nuzzled her stricken master and a single tear fell from her eye, landing on the festering wound. The tear sizzled as it encountered the handiwork wrought by the evil blade. The redness and swelling vanished leaving the simple laceration, untainted by foul spells. The mare glared at Trap with indignation and stood over her master who was trying vainly to rise to his feet.

"This is a fascinating turn of events," said the King, "but it is a very strange duel. Will no one fight for the honor of a lady?"

"I will," said Tristan, "he has committed sins dark and terrible. I know but a few of his crimes, and they alone are worthy of death. Impugning a lady is the least of his wrongs. In the name of the Master, I place you under arrest."

"You?" scoffed Trap, "arrest me? Of what crimes am I accused? And I would think you are the one who should be arrested, as you are the one who murdered Bristol." The court gasped.

"You hereby stand accused of murdering three of the Brethren assigned to the Eastern Realms and for dabbling with powers more evil than any mortal knows," said Tristan. He continued, "I have shed no innocent blood. Bristol lives still."

"A likely story," sneered Trap, "have you any proof?"

"That I still live is proof enough," said Tristan, "if I commit murder in cold blood I would violate the Oath I swore to the Master and suffer the consequences of doing so."

"You!" snarled Trap, "you are one of those cursed Brethren! How?"

"I walked a very fine and dangerous line, but I never did anything to compromise my Oath," said Tristan, "I only wish you had not forced my hand to reveal my true identity. Will you put away your sword and come quietly?" For answer, Trap raised his sword and lunged at Tristan. Unlike Pallin, who had been playing with swords for only a couple of years, Tristan had been at it for over a century. There were few who could rival him with a blade. Trap was soon on the floor, clutching his leg in pain. It was not a mortal blow as Tristan hoped to capture the man alive.

"You will not take me alive," snarled Trap.

"I was afraid of that," said Tristan, "I have dealt with your kind before, and they always manage to kill themselves rather than face captivity."

Trap grinned in triumph, "you must either kill me, let me go, or I will take my own life. Either way, I have won."

Tristan asked, "what awaits you beyond death?"

Trap gave him a startled look, "beyond? There is no beyond. This life is all there is."

"Then what use is it swearing your life away to your vile masters?" asked Tristan.

"Absolute power in this life," laughed Trap.

"Then what is the sense of dying for your masters?" asked Tristan, "you do not win, you are simply dead. I also do not believe you cease to exist with your final breath. I fear something dark and terrible awaits you beyond the grave. Something they have failed to tell you about."

"Why do you care?" asked the confused Trap.

"I care for all the Master's people," said Tristan, "no matter their crimes." "Is there a way to revoke your oath?" asked Tristan.

"I do not know," said Trap, "I have never heard of it being done, but why should I listen to you?"

"What have your dark masters ever done for you?" asked Tristan, "has your life been filled with joy as it should be if you are serving a higher purpose? Have they given you anything but a cold, empty heart and no future but death? Do not listen to me. But for once in your miserable life listen to your heart."

Trap fell silent, examining the course of his life and all the things he thought he knew but now began to wonder if his whole life had been based on lies. "I will think about your words and come to a decision. It has been long since I have listened to anything but my own selfish desires," said Trap. He dropped his sword and allowed his hands to be bound behind his back. He was searched and relieved of his other weapons and escorted to a secure cell. Tristan sheathed his own blade and went to the weak, but smiling Pallin. Pallin laughed, "I never imagined things would turn out like that. What do you think will become of him?"

"I do not know," said Tristan sadly, "he has been steeped in evil for many long years and who knows what horrible rites he has performed along the way. The road back to humanity will be long and hard for him, but not impossible if he truly seeks the Master. I still cannot believe he listened to what I said. But perhaps it is simple kindness for which the darkest heart yearns most. We should see to that wound."

"It is only a cut," said Pallin, but he did not argue too strenuously.

The King came forward, "this was a fascinating scene. You both acted as if there is such a thing as absolute truth, right and wrong."

Tristan bowed and said, "that is because there is your Majesty. Perhaps if you listened more to the Truth and less to these prattling fools you will gain wisdom." He bowed again and escorted Pallin through the stunned crowd, trailed by the mare.

Pallin was himself again within a few days. He and Tristan spent their time speaking to the King and various nobles about the Truth and the Master, and how to proceed in reestablishing common sense and real knowledge in the realm. Bristol arrived soon after the duel and resumed his old position. Tristan happily packed away his Order uniform and exchanged it for regular clothes. All three men frequented Trap's cell, answering his questions and talking with him about the small joys in everyday life. Arora never visited him, she was too uncomfortable around a man who had felt what he had about her. Neither did she wish to cause him any grief or pain in his desperate situation. It was decided that he should stay in the cells at Arca until he had come to some sort of closure, and then his final situation would be determined based upon his decisions. Bristol would continue to meet with him on a regular basis. The King asked that Tristan and Pallin stay in Arca and teach what they knew about the Truth, but Tristan declined saying they had urgent business elsewhere, but he was sure the Lady would be happy to send teachers if he requested them. Arora added more meaningful songs to her repertoire; the histories, legends, and stories she relayed musically seemed to fascinate the court who had been used to hearing only vapid love songs and instrumental pieces. Tristan sent word to the Lady of all that had happened and of their future plans. He secretly bid Arora farewell and he and Pallin rode off towards the University.

### Chapter 5

Syre was a large and prosperous country. Its main city, Dara, was located on the Eastern Sea; much of its prosperity came from fishing and trade. The University was housed in a rambling manor that had once belonged to an ailing Lord who willed it to the institution on his deathbed after being assured that it would then be named after him. The manor house had been divided into various sections for student housing, teaching, and rooms for the faculty to live and work in. The place was buzzing with activity. Students, mostly young men in brightly colored robes, zipped about in a hurried frenzy; faculty (in even more colorful robes) strolled importantly on some vital errand or other. As Tristan and Pallin rode across the campus, they drew many strange looks, not only were they riding but they also wore swords. While many things were taught at this strange institution, violence was not one of them. If all 'truths' were correct, then how could you resort to violence over differences in opinion? Did not the other person have as much right to his 'truth' as you had to yours? Horses were simply considered a luxury or an extravagance. Why ride when your own feet worked perfectly well (and all the money that went to support the horse could then be used to support some other worthy cause, like the University!)?

Many of the students were also the second, third, or fourth sons of farmers, merchants, and nobles who did not expect to inherit much from their fathers and thus were forced to seek gainful employment elsewhere. Not wishing to become apprentices or soldiers, they opted to come to the University, and thus were not able to afford so extravagant a thing as a horse (therefore anyone riding a horse was wasting resources). Tristan asked directions, seeking whoever was in charge of the University and received a very confused look. It appeared no one was in charge of this miasma of activity. There were various people who oversaw certain aspects of the day-to-day operations, but there was no particular person who managed everything. Then he asked who was in charge of admitting new students and finally received a useful answer. They approached the small cottage indicated by their informant and left the unicorns 'loose' outside as there was nothing to pretend to tie them to, and unlike real horses, they were not prone to wander. They knocked on the door and someone inside yelled, "come in!"

They entered and found an old, but lively man inside sitting at a table with a stack of papers in front of him and a quill pen in his hand. He smiled as they entered, "what can I do for you?"

"We have heard much of this University of yours and have come hence to learn more about it," said Tristan.

The man laughed, "it is not 'my' University or anyone else's for that matter. It belongs to everyone. What would you like to know?"

"Anything you can tell us of its origins, requirements, educational programs, and mode of operations would be helpful," said Tristan.

"That is quite a list," grinned the old man, "may I ask why all the questions?"

"We are just very curious about this place as we have never encountered anything quite like it before," said Tristan.

"It is quite an impressive accomplishment if I may say so," said the man proudly, "let me see, yes...the University was started a few years ago by a group calling themselves the Philanthropic Society. They wanted to leave something behind, make their lives meaningful and all that I suppose. They convinced some of the richest men in Syre to give generously to their little fund and soon had enough to establish the University. We are supported by contributions from whomever feels moved to give, and also by donations from former students that have achieved some semblance of fiscal success. Admission is open to anyone and everyone, except girls, they would be a distraction. However, we are hoping to start a similar institution for women, but it is still very much in the planning stages mind you. Students must sit in on five hundred hours of lecture, spend six months traveling and sharing their wisdom or furthering their education, and then must write a two hundred page manifesto on a subject of their choice. After they have completed these requirements, they are granted the title of Scholar and are encouraged to spend at least three years teaching, furthering their education, or conducting research in their area of expertise. After such a time, they may return to us and claim the post of Professor. One can also become a Professor by donating generously to our University. The University itself is overseen by a number of men who manage various aspects, such as I oversee enrollment and student development. If a problem should arise, the various department heads get together and try to solve the problem. The faculty also vote on certain matters if need be. There really is not an administrator or oversight committee. We like to allow things to develop as naturally as possible over time; a president or other leader might force things into a direction biased by his personal prejudices. Doing it this way, no single person has too much influence over the University as a whole."

"Fascinating," said Tristan, "could we explore the campus a bit and perhaps listen to a lecture or two?"

"Of course," laughed the old man, "do whatever you like, the University is open to all. And if you should decide to enroll, just come back and let me know. Though just between ourselves, you may want to pack away your weapons. Some of the students may find them distracting." Tristan nodded his thanks and they left the small cottage. When they stepped outside and looked for their mounts, they encountered quite a scene. A ring of students had formed itself around the two 'horses,' and all were intently watching one young man trying to interact with the animals. He stood at Taragon's head, and was slowly trying to get in reach of his bridle. Anyone who had ever spent any time around horses could easily read the signs that Taragon was not happy. His ears were laid back and he kept lifting his head out of reach or backing up. His tail swished furiously, but the boy would not (or could not) read the signs and did not desist in his current objective, which seemed to be grabbing the bridle and getting Taragon's head under control.

"What are you doing?" queried Tristan of the persistent boy.

"I am an expert horseman," said the boy smugly, "I am simply trying to demonstrate my skills by catching these wandering animals. I have perfected the technique of Positive Horsemanship."

"And what would that be?" Tristan asked skeptically.

"If you project positive thoughts at the animal, he will sense your good intentions and allow you to do whatever you would like with him. It makes for a very tractable horse and a more humane training process," said the boy.

"I see," said Tristan, "and exactly how much experience have you had with horses?"

The boy grinned, "oh lots, we lived next door to a blacksmith and I got to watch horses all day long. We also had a pony when I was a child. I have had more experience than most people."

"And why did you decide to 'practice' your technique on our mounts?" asked Tristan patiently.

"They were wandering loose," said the boy, "and as the local expert in all things horsy, I felt it my duty to capture them before someone got hurt or they got lost."

"I thank you for your help," said Tristan, "but they would not have gone far nor hurt anyone who was not directly confronting them." He walked forward through the crowd and patted the neck of the great stallion. The boy was irritating, but harmless. The mare walked quietly up to Pallin. Tristan turned back to the boy, "is there somewhere we may stow our gear temporarily?"

"Oh yes," said the boy, "I will take you to the storage office." They followed the excited youth towards what looked like it had once been some sort of shed, but now housed the central storage area. The boy said, "you can check your items in here and retrieve them whenever you decide to leave."

"Thank you," said Tristan. The boy beamed. They unsaddled the unicorns and handed their tack, supplies, and weapons to the man behind the counter. He looked skeptically at their paraphernalia but secured it anyway. They then let the unicorns loose, much to the astonishment of the boy.

"What are you doing?" he squawked.

"They will be here when we need them," said Tristan as he watched them buck and frisk a bit now that they were free of their harness. They quickly disappeared into the distant woods. "Now," he said turning to the boy, who still stared off in the direction the animals had fled, "we would like to sit in on a lecture or two. Can you help us?"

"Huh," said the boy, "oh, there is a list of lectures posted every day right over here." He showed them a piece of parchment tacked to the wall of the storage facility. On it was a list of about twenty topics being discussed during the course of the day. Some of the topics included:

Goats: a psychological analysis.

Kerfluffle the Ogre: a study in prejudice and misconception, and its implications for society.

The Socioeconomic impact of large-scale turtle farming.

In the eye of the beholder: the unreality of evil.

A forest of feeling: how the trees suffer from the exploitation of man.

Dragons: myths, monsters, or gods?

Going Buggy: the social interactions of dung beetles.

The Brethren: an expose on world domination.

The futility of achievement: why the world would be better off if everyone was mediocre.

The influence of lobsters in art and music throughout history.

Flatulence as a form of self-expression.

It was a long and tedious list, and would have been funny had not the people who were giving such lectures been very serious about their topics. Tristan looked at the boy, "how do you decide which lectures to go attend?"

He smiled proudly and said, "we are encouraged to attend classes on a wide variety of subjects, but we try to pick the lectures most relevant to our own area of study. I have a green robe, which means I am interested in the natural sciences. Black is undecided or general studies. Red is the philosophical and logical disciplines. Yellow is the arts and history. Blue is the social and economic fields."

"What is your next class?" asked Tristan.

"I am attending the lecture on the Brethren, though the dung beetle class also looks interesting," said the boy.

Tristan was not sure what he felt about the Brethren being ranked so closely to dung beetles but he said, "we would like to go with you if that is not a problem."

The boy grinned, "I would be pleased to escort you. Are you enrolling in the University?"

"We are thinking about it," said Tristan. Pallin looked at him in concern; he was not eager to enroll in this nonsensical place, but they would do as Tristan felt they must. They followed the boy across the campus and into the sprawling manor house. He led them into a large room packed with eager students. There was just room enough for everyone to stand, albeit uncomfortably close to everyone else. "Are all the lectures this full?" asked Tristan.

"Oh yes," nodded the boy proudly, "except maybe the flatulence lecture. There are so many students and the number of lectures is limited, so we must crowd into whatever space is available."

Shortly, a tall, stuffy man walked proudly into the room in a flowing robe of yellow and blue. Tristan asked quietly, "what do the colors of the instructor's robe mean?"

The boy looked horrified that Tristan would talk once the Professor was in the room but mumbled back, "they wear whatever they want." Several of the surrounding pupils stared at them in disbelief that they would even think about talking. The boy was cowed into silence by his peers. Tristan smiled in amusement; they certainly took their studies seriously. The professor glanced around the room sternly, as if trying to locate the source of the offensive noise, but found no one to blame so began his lecture. The man spoke for a full hour on the Brethren and their evil plot to force the world to submit to their version of 'truth,' and their willingness to use whatever means necessary. Tristan was amazed to learn that he was a member of a militant organization that was planning the overthrow of free choice, rational thought, and common sense. Why had not over a century in the service of the Brethren revealed such a fundamental truth about the organization?

Pallin struggled valiantly to contain his laughter and spent most of the hour with a haphazard grin on his face. Once the instructor finished his tirade against the Brethren he looked directly at Pallin and said, "do you find something funny? What I have just said is of the utmost importance and is not to be laughed at."

Pallin bowed (or tried to in the crowded room) and said, "no offense to you sir. Your lecture was quite enlightening on many counts. I simply cannot contain myself at being amidst such learned men." The professor looked at him skeptically but seemed mollified.

They filed out of the room. "What did you think?" asked the boy.

"It was definitely an eye-opening experience," said Tristan, "I had never thought about the Brethren that way."

"That is what is so wonderful about the whole University," piped the boy, "it opens your eyes to so many things you would otherwise never think about."

"I am sure it does," said Tristan dryly, "what happens now?"

The boy said, "that was the last lecture before lunch. I must help with dishes today. After that there are several more lectures before the evening meal."

"We shall go with you today," said Tristan, "if we are not an inconvenience."

"Oh no," said the boy, "I would love to act as your guide and you can help me with the dishes."

"The dishes?" asked Pallin glumly.

"Yes," said the boy, "we are all assigned chores. It keeps costs down if we all help out around the University."

"Lead on," said Tristan, vastly amused at Pallin's lack of enthusiasm for helping with the dishes. After a light lunch, the boy led them into the kitchens where several young men were at work cleaning up. Tristan and Pallin rolled up their sleeves and pitched in. Tristan said quietly to Pallin, "nothing like washing dishes for the glory of the Master."

"This was not," said Pallin, "what I thought I would be doing when I took my Oath."

"There are many things we must do in service to the Master, even if we would rather not," said Tristan with a smile, "besides, you missed a spot." Pallin gave him a sharp look but it was in mock-sternness, and he resumed his scrubbing with a lighter heart. There were far worse things he could be doing.

### Chapter 6

With the clean-up completed, the boy led them to their next class. Tristan nearly fell asleep as the professor rattled on and on about the disputes between various individuals on the proper way to name and classify fungi. They attended several more sessions before the evening meal; thankfully none were as dull as the fungus lecture, but none of them really presented any useful information, and some of the material was downright wrong or distorted. They trudged wearily to supper; it had been a strenuous day of tedium. The students were excited and chatty over the evening meal, and very interested in the newcomers. Some remembered the pair had been armed when they arrived and remarked on their swords. Tristan explained that he had been a member of the Order once, and as they were traveling through wild or uncivilized lands, weapons were sometimes needed to ward off unwanted attention from animals or violent men. Several of the students perked up at mention of the Order. It seemed that there were a significant number of Order members amongst the student body. Many still went to Astoria, it was true, but the discipline was less rigorous and the subjects were more varied at the University. It also appeared that a growing number of people within the Order frowned upon the Oath-taking, which many of the men who went to Astoria opted to participate in.

It seemed the Order was on the brink of a schism. Tristan had wondered if it was not coming. Either the Order would slowly be absorbed into the Brethren and cease to be a separate entity, or the Order would split and resume its previous position as a rival to the Brethren. Many of the students frowned upon swords and violence as a means of solving anything. The students who had actually encountered violence in the course of their lives rolled their eyes and shook their heads at the would-be pacifists. It was one thing to refuse to use a weapon on another individual; it was quite another to assume that because you did not use a weapon your opponent would somehow see reason and refrain from violence. If all the world agreed that violence was bad and no one would partake in evil against another person, then swords and violence would cease to exist. But as long as there is one man or nation willing to use force against another, swords and violence will be a necessary part of maintaining peace for those who could not (or would not) defend themselves. But the students who had never encountered real evil could not understand why swords might be necessary to maintain peace. They thought everyone was as 'sensible' as they and therefore swords were unnecessary and only encouraged violence.

After supper, the students gathered on the lawn in the middle of the campus and held their evening debate. Each evening they chose a subject, and students took part in arguing for or against the topic of interest. Tonight's subject was whether or not there was such a thing as evil. "Evil is simply a preconstructed misconception in the minds of those who choose not to let everyone believe what they wish," said one boy, "how can the opinions or ideas of one be better or worse than the thoughts of another? Is not everyone entitled to their own ideas? How can one be evil and one be good? Evil is simply a way of labeling those who disagree with you, which then somehow gives you the right to use force to change their minds or destroy them for their temerity in disagreeing with you."

Pallin stood up on the stump on which the recognized speaker must stand; you were not allowed to speak unless you stood on the stump. "By this definition," said Pallin, "evil is simply me not agreeing with you on something and using that as an excuse to enforce my will on you?" The boy nodded. "What if I feel murder is all right?" asked Pallin, "could I murder someone in cold blood because I thought it was right and it would not be called evil?"

The boy stood up on the stump, "if the person you killed thought murder was acceptable, then it would not be evil, but if he did not think murder was acceptable and you killed him then it would be evil because you used force on him against his beliefs."

Pallin scratched his head at this curious logic and resumed the stump, "so you are saying evil exists, but it is simply the forcing of one's will on another who does not agree with you? Murder is acceptable as long as you both agree that murder is good? What if I murder someone and then steal his money? I was not killing him because we disagreed about murder but because we disagreed about who should be in possession of his money. Is the theft evil, but the murder acceptable?"

The boy looked very confused but took the stump again, "would not all people agree that murder is bad and therefore they should refrain from such an action?"

"Yes," said Pallin on the stump, "but what if two murderers have a fight and one kills the other. Both agree that killing people is all right. Does that mean that one killing the other is not evil?" By now the audience was very confused. "Either evil exists or it does not," said Pallin, "simply redefining 'evil' does nothing for the reality of it. Either there are forces out there willing to take advantage of other individuals or there are not. If murder, theft, kidnapping, rape, and every other crime you can think of is wrong, then there must be those out there willing to perpetrate them and therefore evil exists. If murder, theft, and rape are acceptable because they are just differences in opinion between two people then evil does not exist, just differences in what is considered acceptable behavior. If the latter, who decides what is 'acceptable' behavior? If I am set upon by a man with violent intentions is it wrong for me to 'disagree' with him and either flee or defend myself? Or should I simply allow him to act in whatever fashion he feels is right? Whose opinions should be counted in such a situation, mine or his?"

A student took the stump when Pallin stepped down, "very interesting conjectures. Rational people would sit down and talk it out. There is no need for violence."

Pallin shook his head, "you are thinking in circles. Rational people are not violent because they are rational. What about all the irrational people out there who do not wish to sit down and discuss things? Evil is real and there are those individuals who will stop at nothing to accomplish their desires; they will not sit down and talk it out. They will simply kill you and step over your corpse." Several of the students cheered, but the majority looked decidedly unhappy. There was no more debate that night. Their guide from earlier in the day offered them the option of sleeping in his room as they had not yet been assigned quarters. They happily accepted.

The boy shared a small room with three other boys. Six made for a very tight sleeping arrangement, but they were happy to have the visitors in their quarters. They were always excited to learn something new. Even though the debate had been a disappointment to several of the students (sometimes the debate went on for hours and nothing was really decided, but lots of lovely sounding though unintelligible speeches were made), they were still eager to learn from the strangers. Tristan's story was simple. He had been part of the Order, but it did not appeal to him so he went in search of something more meaningful. He had met Pallin on his journeys and together they sought something truly wonderful. The opinions of the students on the Order were interesting. They disagreed with its military focus but applauded its attempts at improving itself by reaching out to the University. They hoped eventually that it would become focused on peace and knowledge and would divert its resources to such noble endeavors. Their thoughts on the Brethren were also interesting. Many knew little of them, except what their teachers said. They believed them to be hardheaded and brainwashed individuals who would stop at nothing to remake the world in their image.

"What would you do," asked Tristan, "if you met one of these Brethren in your travels when you go out to expound your knowledge to others?"

"I would be very careful in approaching him," said their guide, "they are very dangerous men. But I would try and convince him of his own prejudices and help him to see the light."

"Interesting," said Tristan. They stayed up late into the night discussing a plethora of topics. The boys found their guests full of fascinating knowledge.

The next morning over breakfast, Tristan asked their guide, "what exactly do you do on these knowledge-sharing journeys?"

The boy smiled, "we go out and visit inns, village greens, and anywhere else an audience is gathered and share our wisdom with all and sundry."

"What is the point of such journeys?" asked Tristan.

"Why," said the boy aghast at his ignorance, "to spread our knowledge to the ignorant common folk and to spread awareness of the University and its services to everyone. It also gives us a chance to get out into the real world and refine our knowledge and teaching abilities in order to prepare ourselves for a professorship or advisory position to persons of influence."

"How exactly do you support yourself on these journeys?" asked Tristan, "I do not expect you hunt or otherwise gather food along the way."

"No," said the boy, "in return for our generosity in sharing our knowledge, it is assumed the peasants will provide us with room, board, and a little spending money."

Tristan pitied the poor youth and his expectations of support for offering useless advice to people with more commonsense than anyone at the University even dreamed of. "Do you often get visitors or people who check up on the progress of the University?" asked Tristan.

"We get potential students, such as yourselves, who visit quite often," said the boy, "otherwise we occasionally see some important looking fellows from time to time that I think are from the Philanthropic Society and are just checking in to see how things are coming along." Tristan wondered if this Society was simply a front group for members of the Brotherhood who were making sure things continued along as haphazardly as possible.

"When do you leave on your journey?" asked Tristan.

"Actually," said the boy, "I leave the day after tomorrow. I have a few more lectures I need to attend and am almost finished with my thesis on Positive Horsemanship. Once I have completed those two requirements, all I have left until I am awarded the title of Scholar is my journey.

"How is this journey graded?" asked Tristan.

"It is not graded," said the boy, "we simply go out and travel for six months. Right now we are told to go out only into Arca and eastern Syre, but it is hoped that soon we will be allowed to expand our territory."

"Why the restrictions?" asked Tristan.

"I think they wish to fully educate the surrounding areas, before sending us out into the larger world. It might dilute our message if we became too scattered, too fast. I think they plan on planting new Universities as our numbers grow and by restricting our area now, they will not overlap the potential territories of future Universities."

"I see," said Tristan, "now where are you planning to venture?"

"I do not know," said the boy, "I have never left Dara. I suppose I will head towards Arca and see what I encounter along the way."

"Are you allowed companions on your journey?" asked Tristan.

"Students must not travel with other students, but I do not think it is forbidden to travel with non-students, assuming you do not shirk your duties," said the boy.

"If I may," said Tristan, "I would like to go with you. I wish to know more of this whole process before I make a final decision as to becoming a member of the University."

The boy smiled, "I would welcome your company, I was afraid to make such a journey alone."

It was a strange offer, but Tristan felt it the right thing to do at the time. Maybe he was just a sap for boys in troubled situations. He glanced wryly at Pallin, who had once been a half-starved stable boy until Tristan took him under his wing. This boy was in just as much need of help if not more so; Pallin at least had some commonsense. He would either starve in the wilderness or be set upon by bandits or wild beasts. Pallin feared to ask what he was going to do, when Tristan said, "I will go with you then. Pallin will stay on at the University as a student, but I have not yet made up my mind." The boy beamed; Pallin glowered at Tristan but said nothing. The last thing he wanted was to be left alone at this melting pot of absurdity. But he understood, someone had to keep an eye on things here in case any of these Brotherhood characters showed up. The boy would be eaten alive in the real world and Tristan could protect him, while at the same time traveling with the boy might reveal more about the Brotherhood's plot (or it might be a complete waste of time and energy, but it was the best lead they had).

Pallin soon found himself in a red robe (for his interest in Philosophy and Logic) though perhaps not as happy about it as most of the eager students running about. He could have chosen green, but he was not sure he could stomach any more fungus lectures. The philosophy lectures were sure to irritate him with their inanity, but at least they kept him awake. He was assigned to Geff's room (their guide) as he would be leaving shortly, and also would replace Geff in washing dishes after lunch every day. Geff spent the next couple of days finishing up his course requirements while Pallin spent the time learning what it meant to be a student at the University. Tristan spent his time preparing for the upcoming journey (there was no way he would entrust such preparations to the eager but clueless Geff). His first task was to locate a proper horse for the boy. He may think he was an expert in horsemanship but Tristan doubted he had ever spent much time personally involved with the animals. He finally found a docile grey gelding that appeared to have both speed and stamina; they would likely need both on their journey. He also procured food and equipment for the boy.

When the time for their departure arrived, the three met on the lawn. Pallin said his farewells and Tristan said he would keep in contact as best he could. Privately they had discussed what Pallin should do, should any of the members of the Brotherhood turn up. Geff was a little disappointed to be setting out on horseback as it was considered a badge of honor to set out on foot, but since he was an expert in horsemanship he decided it would be acceptable. He eyed the tall horse before him with concern; the gelding was much taller than his former pony. Tristan smiled at the boy's awkwardness, but helped him into the saddle. Taragon snorted in amusement. Some of Geff's friends came to bid him farewell; several of them looked at the horse in disapproval; a few openly scowled at the sword at Tristan's side. Tristan turned Taragon and they headed away from the well-wishers. Geff's horse followed Taragon automatically; otherwise, he might have stood there forever. Riding a horse was much different than being perched in the saddle while someone led your pony. Geff clung to the saddle and tried to think positive thoughts at his mount. The gelding did not seem to care.

The first couple days, Geff spent most of his time trying to figure out how to survive in camp and how to control his horse. No matter how many positive thoughts he sent towards the shaggy grey head, nothing seemed to sink in. He finally ended up resorting to more traditional methods of horsemanship. Eventually, he figured out the basics of getting on and off, saddling, grooming, cleaning hooves, using the reins, stop, go, back, forward, how to change gaits, and using hobbles. He learned more about horses in two days on the road than he had learned in a lifetime elsewhere. Camping was something else entirely. He was not used to sleeping with just a blanket and a cloak on the hard, often damp ground, especially in the rain. He woke up far too early and discovered once you were awake you could not get back to sleep. Meals were simple and consisted mostly of dried or salted food that would keep on the trail.

He woke up stiff and cold and as he was not used to riding, his muscles ached terribly. Tristan pitied him, but soon enough his body would acclimate to the rigors of travel. This whole journey thing was a lot tougher than Geff had anticipated. He had imagined walking through sunlit woods, crossing babbling brooks, and running through flower-filled meadows. Crowds of people gathered to hear him and hung on every word. He was glad Tristan was with him, because otherwise he would be lost, miserable, and hungry instead of just sleep-deprived and sore. They had been on the road a week and had not encountered anyone or anywhere that seemed a likely target for his expostulations. Tristan traveled very slowly the first week to allow the boy to get used to the idea, later they would travel much more quickly.

Tonight, they planned their first visit to an inn. Tristan said that tonight would be his treat, but after that it was up to Geff to procure lodgings and food if he wished for a change in their camping routine. It was a pleasant little inn, somewhere in the borderlands between Arca, Syre, and the sea. It sat beside the main road that ran along the coast, located near the juncture with the major road heading west. The inn was full of travelers and locals who enjoyed the ale and talk. Tristan told Geff that he was on his own and could handle the crowd as he saw fit. Tristan took a chair in the back and waited to see what was going to happen. Most of the people in the common room paid little or no attention to a mere boy, a few looked towards him curiously.

He stood by the fireplace and quietly began, "horses are quite interesting beasts...they ummm have been...uh...enslaved by humans for centuries and ahh...suffer terribly under our brutal lordship...uhh...I have developed a...method umm...of increasing the errr...efficacy of communication with our...equine er friends." Tristan pitied the poor boy, but he had to learn it the hard way or it would never sink in that he really knew nothing of importance, let alone anything that people would pay him to hear. He spluttered and mumbled on for a good fifteen minutes. By now every eye in the place was fixed on the boy and most of the faces held barely restrained laughter. Finally the audience could take it no longer and laughter racked the room. Geff turned crimson and tried to find a place to quietly disappear, but he was forced to walk through the entire crowd in order to flee out the open door. Tristan quietly followed.

He found the boy weeping on the woodpile. "They thought I was funny!" sobbed the boy. "I have worked so hard and thought my ideas were so profound," he continued, "no one who read my thesis thought it laughable."

Tristan put an arm around the distraught youth and said, "there is a big difference between the things that go on at your University and life in the real world. You said you never left Dara? There is a whole wide world out here and you cannot survive in it with the nonsense and lunacy that passes for knowledge at the University. The poorest farmer has more sense than any of your professors. At the University, you are sheltered and protected from reality, and all sorts of useless or illogical philosophies can exist, but out here, you need commonsense to survive. No one in there cares a bit for fungal taxonomy, but they know all sorts of things that help them make a living at whatever it is they do. I would rather spend an hour talking to one of them than a minute listening to some puffed-up, harebrained professor. In the last week you have become a somewhat decent horseman, but did any of your professors question the validity of your ideas on horsemanship? You wrote a two hundred page essay on pure nonsense. Now you can continue in this idle vein, or you can spend some time talking to real people and maybe even learn a few things worth knowing."

The boy wiped the tears from his eyes and a determined look entered his eyes, "you really think my methods are nonsensical?"

"Did it work on your gelding?" asked Tristan with a smile.

"No," said the boy morosely, "but what about my future as a Scholar?"

"No one said you could not complete your journey and then return to the University and work to change the system," said Tristan.

"Change the system?" asked Geff in shock.

"The University is a good idea, to spread knowledge and skills to those who need them," said Tristan, "but in its current form it is propagating nonsense and anyone who gives enough money can call themselves a Professor and rattle away about whatever they want. They need a system to make sure those doing the teaching are qualified to do so and they need to offer material that has some practical use in real life."

"So I have wasted the last two years of my life?" asked Geff.

"I would not say you wasted it, but you could have used it more productively," said Tristan, "at least you are now aware of the folly associated with the University's current mode of action and perhaps can do something about it."

"If you know this about the University, why are you tagging along with me and why is Pallin currently enrolled there?" asked the boy with a quizzical frown.

Tristan laughled, "you have a very quick mind. You will do well if we can get it directed into a proper channel. Pallin and I are trying to figure out who is behind the propagation of such nonsense and if we can rectify the situation."

"Can I help?" asked the boy.

"You already are," said Tristan, "we will continue on your Journey as planned, but instead of sharing your wisdom, you will be asking other people to share theirs with you. By the end of the journey you should have amassed a great deal to think about and may perhaps be able to use it to enlighten your friends and colleagues."

"What are you going to do?" asked the boy.

"For now I will travel with you and hope to find out more about the plans behind the University. I have a feeling that agents of whoever is behind these schemes are to be found upon the road, monitoring or assisting in the dispersal of so much misinformation. I think your school is the beginning of a great plan to destroy knowledge, wisdom, and truth as we know it. If it works in Syre and Arca, it will likely spread to the rest of the world," said Tristan. The boy was wide-eyed at the mention of such plots and conspiracies. He had thought the University simply a place to learn and exchange ideas. They went back inside and sat down to a hearty supper; Geff was ecstatic to sleep in a bed again. The next day, much refreshed and with a new sense of duty, they set off in search of knowledge.

### Chapter 7

In the dungeons of Arca, Trap had spent many days thinking and wracking his mind. He had talked to Bristol on numerous occasions about any number of topics, but he still could not bring himself to a final decision on whether to abandon his former masters or not. One did not simply say 'I am finished' and walk away from a lifetime of evil. Or could you? It was not humanly possible to transform into a new person overnight. He might even die if he tried to unentangle himself from the grip of evil. Of course, had he been completely committed to his evil cause, he should have willed himself to die the minute he was captured. Instead he moldered in a cell awaiting an uncertain future. He might die if he tried to free himself of his dark oaths, but he most certainly would die if he chose not to repent (he would be executed for murder or should will himself to die). If he was dead anyway, what was holding him back?

He was afraid to face life without his shield of evil, his only purpose. His pursuit for power had led him down many dark and twisted paths; without that purpose his life had no direction or reason. A ceasing of existence, as he once thought death would bring, had been a comfort and a retreat, but he was starting to wonder if Tristan had been correct in saying that something terrible awaited him beyond the grave. He and his comrades had never been considered more than tools by their masters, and if one was no longer useful or was lost, it was not of great concern; you were simply replaced. Tristan had shown more concern for him than he had ever received from anyone associated with the Brotherhood. He had thought all people selfish and cold, but it was he who had shut everyone else out and let his own heart grow dark. He yearned for the simple joys of human companionship. He wanted his humanity back. He fell to the floor and for the first time in living memory, he wept.

Bristol found him some hours later, a broken and fragile man. He had lost everything he had ever depended on or believed in. He did not know who or what he was. He only knew he could no longer endure the darkness or the solitude. Bristol had compassion for the shriveled shell of a man before him and opened the cell. He gently lifted the man and supported him as they walked out of the dungeons and into the sunlit gardens. The sun shone merrily on a myriad of flowers, somewhere a bird sang, a cool breeze played among the leaves. They sat on a stone bench in the shade of a great oak. They were silent for a long time. Trap sat in the sun and simply absorbed its warmth. He took in the sights, sounds, and smells with a joy he had not known since childhood. He looked at the world about him with a childish sense of delight. What had he been seeking before that compared to all this? He felt that if he could sit in the garden for the rest of his days, it would not be a wasted life. Somewhere up above, music drifted from an open window. It was a light, airy tune that minded one of a cool autumn evening with geese on the wing and the trees afire with the colors of sunset. He had not allowed himself to experience such peace or joy since he was a small boy. He had abandoned himself fully to the rigors and darkness of his work. He had lost himself in evil and was only now realizing that of all men he knew himself least. "I do not know who I am," he said in a quiet, pained voice.

"Time will reveal that," said Bristol.

"I have wrought such evil and sold my very soul into darkness. What hope is there for me?" asked Trap.

"There is always hope," said Bristol quietly, "even for the most hardened soul. No choices are final this side of death."

"I have nothing left to cling to," said Trap, "everything I once knew is gone. What is the meaning in anything? Where do I go? What do I do?"

"There is meaning and purpose in everything," Bristol said gently, "as long as you are breathing, you will find a purpose."

"How?" asked the man desperately.

"Seek the Master," was all Bristol said.

Trap was allowed the use of a well-guarded room high up in one of the towers of the castle. Sunshine and fresh air streamed through the open window, occasionally sounds of music, birdsong, or laughter were carried on an errant breeze; it was a pleasant and quiet retreat for one who had dwelt so long in darkness. Seek the Master? To him, the Master had ever been a figure from the distant past who had succumbed to the weaknesses of mercy and compassion, but the Brethren seemed to think him alive and powerful. And stranger still, they said he was willing to reach out to anyone. Even him! How could you turn to someone you had denied your entire life, especially after having slain several of his servants (among numerous other people)? It was a strange proposal but he had ample time to think upon it. While Trap debated within himself, his captors also debated what should be done with the prisoner. Technically, he should stand trial for his crimes and then be executed. But in his shattered mind lurked vital information about the Brotherhood of the Serpent, their deadliest opponent. It was decided that he should be taken to Astoria (since it was the Brethren who accused him of murder) once he was fit enough to travel, and his fate would be left to the Lady. Bristol continued to visit with the man as often as he could. Arora occasionally accompanied Bristol and played for the broken man; her music seemed to ease his tormented soul. Neither knew what the future held for him.

Pallin, now an official student at the University, attended enough lectures so as not to arouse suspicion, but not any more than absolutely necessary. He was of an age with many of the boys who attended and started to make friends among them. They were eager to learn and worked hard at everything they did, but their thinking was so backwards and illogical that it nearly drove Pallin mad. Every night at the debate, he tried to counter some of their baffling logic, but most of the time he was excluded from the stump by those who found his interference irritating. He tried to speak with various professors and discovered they had little time for students. They were much too important to be bothered with such menial tasks. The few he was able to exchange a few words with spoke only of their areas of interest, and had no interest in discussing where they had acquired their knowledge or why anyone would care to hear about it. Most had attained their position by donating generously to the school. They carried themselves with a pride and importance far superior to their supposed mental abilities. The students looked up to them with a respect verging on awe, as if the sons of the gods had deigned to walk briefly upon the same soil trodden by mortal men. Pallin doubted even the most reverent of the Brethren doted that much upon the Lady! That sort of respect was due only to the Master alone, and should not be wasted on mere mortals. He decided washing dishes was not so bad; he could have been assigned to haul rubbish to the refuse pile. He kept his eyes open for any sinister or important looking visitors, but he saw no one but students and professors running about the campus.

It had now been a month since Tristan set forth on his journey with Geff. The youth had become a respectable horseman, and had learned much in his various encounters with the common people. People were very happy to talk to someone so obviously interested in what they had to say. It was also a nice change from being talked at ceaselessly by other journeying students who had not learned the restraint forced upon Geff. On several occasions, he was invited to spend a couple days with a farmer or craftsman who was more than happy to show him the finer points of his trade. Tristan even began showing him how to use a sword and teaching him the basics of archery. Geff was having the time of his life and actually learning something to boot. True, he may never raise potatoes or make a barrel, but it was interesting to know how things were made and where they came from. Never did he use his knowledge of the various ways to classify fungus. They had several interesting encounters along the way, especially with Geff's fellow students.

One night they sat in the common room of an inn, just watching the other guests. Lightning flashed outside as a bedraggled young man crept in out of the storm. He was thin and weary, but he held himself confidently. He approached the innkeeper and inquired about the possibility of exchanging some sage advice for supper and a bed. The man replied that he could wash the dishes and sweep the floor in exchange for a few scraps and a sleeping place in the stable. The boy agreed (obviously desperate for food and shelter), but asked that he be allowed to share some important advice with the gathered patrons. The innkeeper rolled his eyes and walked away, apparently this was a common occurrence. The boy stood at the front of the room and prattled away about the finer points of draconian anatomy (Tristan, who had actually met a few dragons, could only wonder where the boy acquired his information). After a quarter of an hour, he finally wound down and asked for questions. Most of the guests ignored him or stared at him blankly. Having apparently mystified his audience with his knowledge (or lack there of) he went in search of the innkeeper to see about his dinner. Most of the patrons shook off their confused looks and resumed whatever they had been doing before the interruption. One man sat in the corner, puffing a pipe and smiling broadly, he seemed pleased with the way things were going. Tristan wondered if he was one of those sent out by the Brotherhood to monitor the success of their plot.

The door banged open again, and another wet traveler shook the rain from his cloak. He found a place near the fire and went about the tedious business of trying to dry his soaked paraphernalia. Geff turned his attention to Tristan and said, "did I sound that confusing and pompous?"

Tristan smiled and said, "you were very confusing, but you had not yet practiced enough to achieve that level of arrogance."

"Thanks, I think," said Geff.

"You are welcome," said Tristan laughing, "you have improved greatly since then. In fact I may be leaving you to your own devices very soon if nothing 'interesting' happens in the next couple of weeks." The boy looked stunned at the thought of being left alone in the wide world. Tristan could almost read his thoughts, "do not worry," he said, "you are much more ready to face the world than I was when my own turn came. You will do very well, much better than most of your colleagues I think." The newcomer by the fire glanced casually around the room and started when he saw Tristan. He ceased trying to dry his clothes and walked over to their table.

"What brings you to this soggy part of the world?" asked the stranger of Tristan.

Tristan smiled and said, "have a seat Turin! It is good to see you. I am following up a lead on something, but I am beginning to think it a futile effort. What are you up to?"

"Oh the usual," said Turin, taking a seat at their table, "chasing down nefarious evil-doers and protecting the weak from the strong. Who is your friend?"

"He is a student from the University," said Tristan who grinned at his friend's startled reaction, "he has learned the value of opening his ears and shutting his mouth."

"I see," said Turin, "so why is he chasing about with you?"

"I am chasing about with him, actually," said Tristan, laughing at his friend's confusion. "What do you know of this University?" continued he.

"Not much," said Turin thoughtfully, "only that it sends out hordes of ill-educated boys to starve in the wilderness while pretending to share deep and forgotten wisdom."

Tristan leaned closer to his friend, "I think this University has something to do with the Brotherhood. It is a ridiculous institution with good intentions, but I think they are unknowingly serving the agenda of the Brotherhood."

"I think I could believe that," said Turin, "you can hardly get anyone to listen to you anymore. They are so tired of being preached at that no one will listen to anything, even from a reputable source."

"Do you know the man in the corner?" asked Tristan. Turin glanced briefly at the man still smoking his pipe.

"No," said Turin, "but evil rolls off him like spray from the sea. I have encountered an occasional man like him in my journeys. Whatever they are up to, it is not good."

"I wonder," said Tristan, "he may be an agent of the Brotherhood. I have encountered similar feeling men and each time that is what they have turned out to be. Should we do anything about him?"

"I have just finished my latest mission and currently have no pressing duties," said Turin, "perhaps I can keep an eye on him. I would hate to have him do something terrible that we could prevent, but we also do not want to engage him unless we know that there is something more sinister about him than a fondness for tobacco."

Tristan nodded his agreement. "Have you been through Arca lately?" asked he.

"Not in a couple months, but I have heard no bad news," said Turin.

"Perhaps that is where we shall head next," said Tristan. The boy smiled, he longed to see a city besides Dara. "How are things otherwise?" asked Tristan.

"Besides not being able to talk to people, not bad," said Turin, "at least I am not aware of any more mysterious disappearances on our part."

Tristan said, "I am hoping we have that loose end tied up." Turin nodded but did not question further in the boy's presence.

At that moment, the other student emerged from the kitchen with a red face and wrinkled hands; apparently he had been washing dishes. He resumed his place by the fire, "most distinguished guests," he began, "I hope you enjoyed my previous talk. Now I will give a brief dissertation on the more peculiar draconian subspecies."

The two men and the boy exchanged pained looks. "I am off to bed," laughed Turin, "I am not sure I can stomach any more of these lectures." With a smile and a nod he bid them goodnight.

"Who was that?" asked Geff.

"An old friend," said Tristan, "I have not seen him in years. Our duties keep us on the road and often half a world a part."

"What duties?" asked Geff.

"We share a common goal of helping others and making the world a better place," said Tristan, "he maintains justice and protects the innocent from those who might otherwise take advantage of them. I uncover evil in its myriad forms and try to stop it." The boy scratched his head in confusion but asked no more.

By now, the other student had finished his speech and as he glanced expectantly around the room his eyes fell on Geff, recognition dawned in his eyes. The boy gave an exaggerated bow. Leaving his indifferent audience alone for a time. He came over and stood by Tristan's table and said to Geff, "well, well what have we here? I did not think to find you upon the road."

"Hello Raye," said Geff glumly.

"Who is your friend?" asked the boy, "have you found a wealthy benefactor?"

Tristan shook his head and said, "I am just a friend accompanying him on his journey until our paths bifurcate. And who might you be?"

"I am called Raye," said the boy expansively, as if all the world should fall prostrate in awe. When no one fell down in worship, he continued, "I am a student at the University and am over halfway through my journey. Someday I shall be a professor and share my extensive knowledge of all things draconian with the masses."

"Fascinating," said Tristan, "and where have you acquired this extensive knowledge?"

"I have read books and talked to people and theorized on the intricacies of dragons," said the boy proudly.

"That is what I thought," said Tristan wryly, "you have imparted much information tonight that many have never even dreamed of hearing." This was Tristan's diplomatic way of saying the boy did not have a clue about that which he was talking. The boy seemed to take the comment as his due and sat down importantly.

"Now what have you done since we parted?" asked Raye.

"I have learned much upon the road, not the least of which was how much I have yet to learn," said Geff defensively.

"I see," said Raye with an apparent lack of interest, "well I must be about my duties. Not all of us have the luxury of a free meal." He got up and headed back towards the kitchen. As he did so the man in the corner called him over and briefly said something. The boy smiled broadly and thanked the man. It seemed the man was congratulating him on his knowledge or speaking abilities. The boy returned to the kitchens and the man got up and approached Tristan's table.

"Greetings my friends," said the oily man as he seated himself. "I have very much enjoyed the presentation by the other young man," he continued. He glanced at Geff and said, "and are you not also one of these remarkable young men courageously traveling the wilds in their quest to share their knowledge?"

Geff looked at the tabletop and said, "yes sir."

"Then why do you not share your invaluable wisdom with all gathered herein?" asked the wheedling man.

"Raye is a much more accomplished speaker," said Geff, "and I do not wish to steal the day from him. Besides, I would be terribly disappointing by comparison."

The man looked sourly at Tristan, "why do you hinder the boy in sharing his wisdom?"

"I have nothing to do with it," said Tristan, "the boy may do as it pleases him. I merely accompany him while our paths coincide."

"What are you afraid of?" snapped the man at Geff.

"Sir," said the boy, "I will share my knowledge when it is worth sharing, but at the moment the least wise among the people in this room knows more than I."

"This is not the attitude taught at the University," scoffed the man.

"No," said Tristan with a slight smile, "it is the voice of experience. He has learned that there is a difference between knowledge and wisdom, and he has wisely chosen not to bore those here gathered with useless information."

"He has a very promising future if only he will embrace it," said the man.

"He does have a promising future," said Tristan, "and he will get there eventually, but for now he has chosen humility over unwarranted pride. I would say that is the beginning of wisdom."

"No one asked you," snarled the man, "and I would stay out of this if I were you. You are as bad as one of those cursed Brethren, always spouting self-righteous piety every chance they get."

"I do not know about the Brethren, but I thought it was simply common sense," said Tristan.

"Mark me," said the man, "you will regret interfering in matters you know nothing about." He stood abruptly and stormed out into the night. Geff felt a chill run down his spine; he had never encountered such open hostility before, especially over something so trivial.

"What was all that about?" he asked.

"I am not sure," said Tristan, "but he is the only one here who seems to appreciate the University's efforts to educate the masses." Geff laughed nervously.

The last of the guests had gone home or retreated to their rooms. Tristan and Geff sat alone in the common room. Raye swept the floor, but kept glancing towards them in irritation; he did not like having to beg for his supper, especially when a freeloader like Geff could get his for nothing. Finally, Tristan stood and headed for their room. Geff followed obediently. "I am going to check in on Turin," said Tristan, "you should probably go to bed." Geff nodded sleepily and slipped into their room. Tristan tapped on Turin's door and it opened immediately.

"Where is your creepy friend?" asked Turin once the door was shut, "I saw something of his conversation with you. He is a nasty piece of work."

"I do not know," said Tristan, "stormed out into the downpour; I have not seen him since our brief conversation. He threatened that I would regret 'interfering,' but I do not know if his threats are real or bluff. I no longer have any doubts as to his loyalties however." Turin nodded.

A scream of terror rent the night. The men reflexively drew their swords and dashed into the empty hall. A white-faced Raye pointed silently towards Geff's room. Tristan quietly opened the door and jumped back. Nothing happened. Cautiously they crept into the room, swords drawn. Lightning flashed outside the open window and rain streamed in. A movement in the corner caught Tristan's eye and he set himself for attack. "Ahhh!" yelled Geff, "do not hurt me!" Tristan pulled up short, his sword inches from the boy's face.

"What happened?" gasped Tristan.

"A..a...thing," stuttered the frightened boy, "came in through the window. I was paralyzed with fear. It searched the room, glared at me, and fled out the window." By now, Turin had a candle lit.

"What was it?" asked Tristan calmly.

"I think it was a man," said Geff, "but I have never felt such fear in the presence of anyone before."

"I think it was our friend from earlier tonight," said Tristan, "he came to make sure I would not interfere any longer and when he did not find me he fled." Tristan turned to Turin, "I no longer doubt he is what we think he is."

Turin nodded, "I can hunt him down, you should keep the boy safe."

Tristan said, "if the man had wanted the boy dead he could easily have killed him a few moments ago. Perhaps I should just let him go about his own business and he will be left alone."

Geff chimed in, "what if we continue to travel together and I act as bait?"

"Are you serious?" asked Tristan.

"How else are we going to catch him?" asked the boy.

"He has a point," said Turin.

Tristan turned to Geff and said, "you do realize that your life will be in danger if we go through with this?" The boy nodded eagerly; he thought this was going to be fun! All three spent the night in Turin's room; the men took turns standing watch.

### Chapter 8

The next day, Tristan and the boy set off together. Turin waited awhile and followed at a distance, hoping to find some trace of the stranger if he gave chase. For three days, they traveled towards Arca with no sight or sign of pursuit. On the third night, it clouded over and neither moon nor stars cast their light. As they sat in the darkness around a cheery fire, a shroud of evil drained all the warmth out of the once bright blaze leaving it a small, pitiable thing. A menacing voice out of nowhere said, "I told you to leave things alone; you should have listened." The darkness thickened and menace quivered in the air. A chill wind gusted; the fire flickered and died. Darkest night engulfed the camp. Ominous footsteps came one by one, as if some creature far heavier than a man slowly approached. The hissing of its breath sounded heavily in the darkness. Its eyes glowed as if lit by internal flames and it towered above the head of a man. The creature stood before them, a dark shadow with glowing eyes. A voice called triumphantly from its back, "I told you to leave well enough alone. Now you will die...slowly, and then I will take the boy and train him properly."

Geff's horse, having caught scent of the monster, screamed in terror and tried to flee (it is hard to run with hobbles on). Taragon screamed a challenge to the beast and loped into the camp, ready for battle. Tristan flung the boy on the great stallion's back, "hold on tight. If things go ill here, you must ride for all you are worth."

The evil man laughed, "no mere horse can outrun my pet. I will have the boy eventually, but first I will deal with you." Tristan bared his sword and prepared for the fight of his life. The creature snarled and leapt towards Tristan, jaws wide and claws ready. Fighting one of the monsters from the back of an angry unicorn was one thing, facing one on foot in the dark was quite another.

When the beast was nearly upon him, another horse screamed and a startling flash of light momentarily blinded Tristan and he stumbled backward. When he was able to see, he saw Turin astride his unicorn fighting the vile man and his monster. It was an even fight. The thing slashed out with teeth, claws, and whip-like tail; the unicorn fought with hooves, teeth, and horn. Neither rider could do much besides hang on. A familiar crunch, barely audible above the snarling beast and screaming unicorn, came to Tristan's ear. The monster had had a milky red crystal embedded in its breastplate. That crunch meant the crystal had been crushed and the man would shortly be losing control over his mount, which was now freed from whatever bewitchment had held it in the man's sway. The thing went wild, threw off its rider, and ran off snarling into the darkness. Turin halted a moment, Tristan motioned him to follow the fell beast and destroy it; he charged into the darkness in close pursuit.

The fallen man was picking himself up from the ground. "Very nice," he snarled, "but I can dispose of you even without my pet. This shall be far more satisfying."

"Stand down and I will spare your life," said Tristan.

"You have no authority over me," scoffed the man, "I will not surrender. You must kill me or I will kill you." The miasma of fear thickened around the pair as they closed for battle. Geff looked ready to faint, but the cloud of paranoia had no effect on Tristan. "You are not afraid?" asked the man skeptically.

"I have nothing to fear from you," said Tristan calmly. "So be it!" snarled the man as he lunged at Tristan. The man was skilled in the attack, and charged repeatedly, but he rarely bothered to defend himself. One of his blows caught Tristan across the flank and opened up a wide gash along his side; it was a long cut, but not deep. Tristan barely flinched, but continued his attack and dealt a final blow to his attacker before falling to his knees and clutching at his side. The evil man crumpled to the ground, both knew Tristan had dealt a fatal blow. It was only a matter of time, but he laughed through his gasps for breath, "at least I shall see you dead before I succumb to my wound."

"It...it...is only a flesh wound," gasped Tristan.

"Yes," laughed the dark man, "but my blade is fatal no matter where it strikes, and you took a great wound not far from the heart. It will not be long." Painfully, Tristan removed his tunic and stared down at the angry red wound; it throbbed terribly and hurt more than anything he could remember in over a century of such injury. "How does it feel to die without hope?" gasped the man.

"There..is always...hope..." panted Tristan as he fell to his side and lost consciousness, his breathing slow and erratic.

"Not long now," rasped the man with his own failing breath. Taragon, still with Geff on his back, came forward and nuzzled at his fallen master. "Foolish beast! You can do nothing," wheezed the man. Taragon found the gaping wound and gently began to lick it. Wherever his tongue touched, the redness and swelling retreated, leaving only a healthy wound. Tristan's breathing normalized and the color returned to his face. "How?" wailed the stricken man, "it cannot be...impossible..." he trailed off, coughed several times and said no more. The man's body dissolved, leaving only an oily stain on the trampled vegetation.

"Tristan!" gasped Turin, stepping out of the shadows and rushing to the fallen man's side.

He eased Tristan into a sitting position and his friend began to stir, "what?" "You are the first man ever to owe his life to drool," laughed Turin.

"Drool?" asked Tristan dazedly.

"Yes," said Turin, "the beast drooled all over that nice little wound of yours and all the redness and swelling vanished."

Tristan laughed weakly, "Pallin took a similar wound and it was unicorn tears that saved him, I get unicorn spit." Taragon seemed very pleased with himself.

Geff finally found his tongue, "how did you catch a unicorn and tame it?" Both men laughed.

Turin said, "you cannot catch them or tame them. They are thinking creatures just like you and me, sometimes I think they are smarter than we are, at least less reckless. The only way a unicorn will bear a man is if he decides to. They serve us by their own choice."

"I would like to ride a unicorn," laughed the boy.

"You already are," laughed Tristan weakly. The boy glanced down at Taragon, who briefly allowed his true form to show through; his white coat gleamed silver in the darkness before resuming a more natural color for a 'horse.'

"Amazing!" gasped the boy, "who was that man and what was he riding and why did you almost die but not quite?"

"That is a lot of questions, but I will do my best," said Turin. "That man belonged to a group known as the Brotherhood of the Serpent. They are evil men who sell their very souls in exchange for powers dark and terrible. Some of their witchery includes the ability to control the monsters they ride, the ability to put deadly spells upon their weapons, and the ability to produce an aura of fear about themselves. Most men would faint dead away or flee in abject terror in the presence of such fear. Tristan was struck by one of their tainted blades and would have died had not his faithful steed drooled all over him. I knew unicorn tears could drive away evil, but I had no idea their spit was equally powerful."

The boy laughed, "now what?"

"You are going to relight the fire," said Turin, "and I am going to see to Tristan's wound."

As they went about tending to Tristan the boy asked, "so how come you two are lucky enough to ride unicorns?"

Tristan smiled, "there is nothing of luck about it. We are both members of the Brethren, and one of the 'benefits' of such membership is the friendship of a unicorn. They are very faithful creatures and many of us are still alive because of their services." He looked wistfully off into the distance, an unbidden tear trickled down his cheek. They cleansed the wound and bandaged it with a soft cloth.

"You do not seem the type to belong to a nefarious organization intent on taking over the known world and ending all rational thought," said Geff in surprise. Both the men laughed at such a notion.

"Now that you know who and what we are," said Tristan, "perhaps you will rethink what you learned at that school of yours. If I had been intent on world domination, would I have bothered risking my life to save yours? Would Turin have bothered to chase down and destroy that vile beast when he could have let it run loose and terrorize innocent folk? You must decide for yourself the truth of the matter. To the best of my knowledge, I have never discouraged you from rational thought, only from acting a fool in front of others. Are we as domineering as your Professors claim we are?"

The boy laughed, "I cannot trust anything else I have learned at the University, so again I must trust my own experience. But why did you not tell me who you were?"

"Did you need to know or would your knowing serve any purpose besides distracting you?" asked Tristan.

"No," said the boy, "but you are so skilled that I would think you would want everyone to know about it."

"What purpose would that serve?" asked Tristan, "I use my skills for the benefit of others, not to accrue glory for myself. In fact, I am expressly prohibited from doing so by my Oath."

"I see," said the boy, "will you tell me more of the Brethren?"

"Ask whatever you wish," laughed Tristan at Geff's unconstrained eagerness.

"I will answer his questions," said Turin, "you are going to bed." In fact, they all went to bed very soon afterwards, but the boy asked very many questions the next day as they traveled.

Tristan was glad to be considered somewhat of an invalid as it spared him from the boy's ravenous appetite for information. He must have driven his professors to near distraction with his endless questions! Tristan's side hurt and he felt rather weak, but otherwise showed no ill-effects from the night's encounter. They continued towards Arca, as fast as Tristan could manage comfortably. Three days later, Tristan awoke with a slight fever and profound weakness. The wound seemed to be healing normally except for a slightly reddened spot in the middle. They were to reach Arca that day, so he did not wish to bother the others with his concerns. All day, Tristan clung weakly to his saddle and drank far more water than usual. Turin watched him with growing concern, but said nothing. As evening approached, they arrived at the capital city and rode into the main courtyard of the palace. Servants came to fetch their horses, but as the others dismounted, Tristan fell out of his saddle and lay sprawled on the paving stones. Turin ran to his side, he was unconscious and burning with fever. The confused servants watched helplessly.

Turin motioned for Geff to help lift Tristan. He then asked the nearest servant, "can you take us to Arora or Bristol?" The man shook off his shock, nodded, and motioned for them to follow. They climbed ever higher into the palace until the exhausted pair carrying Tristan could go no further, but they had no need because they had reached their destination. A pair of guards stood at the door and looked at the little parade in confusion, but did not try to stop them as they entered the tiny room. Bristol sat talking quietly with Trap while Arora strummed some pleasant tune on her instrument. All three looked up in surprise as the pair of men entered and lay the unconscious form on Trap's bed. Arora gasped as she looked at her husband's grey face, fighting unbidden tears as she rushed to the bed and cradled his head on her lap. "What happened?" gasped Bristol.

Turin answered, "we ran into one of those Brotherhood characters and Tristan took a flesh wound across his side, but it seemed to be healing well. He has been a bit weak, but we figured it was just his near brush with death when he was injured. Taragon reached him in time." Carefully Turin drew back Tristan's tunic and the bandage covering the wound. All gasped when the lesion was revealed. The wound was healing nicely, except for a fist-sized, crimson nodule in the center that sent out angry red tendrils creeping ever closer to his heart.

"He has a shard from the tainted weapon embedded in the wound," said Trap quietly, "he will be dead by morning if it is not removed." In their concern for Tristan everyone had forgotten Trap's presence.

"But I thought the unicorn had fixed everything," said Geff.

"The evil that came with the initial blow was driven away," said Trap, "but the blades carried by the servants of the Brotherhood are terrible things. If even the smallest splinter remains, its evil will eventually kill even the strongest of men." He turned to the waiting servant and said, "bring hot water, clean towels, and a dagger." The man's face paled at mention of the dagger, but Arora nodded and he ran from the room. As they waited for the servant to return with the required supplies, Trap watched the four grieved faces staring grimly down at the prone form on the bed. Arora seemed especially distressed. For the first time in remembrance, Trap felt compassion for a fellow creature stir in his heart. The servant returned with the requested supplies. Trap took the dagger and held it in the flame of a candle until is glowed red, and then dipped it in the water until it quit hissing. Very gently, he cleansed the reddened area and patted it dry. He took the dagger and cut a small hole in the top of the nodule. The fetid odor of death filled the room as a small amount of ashen grey pus seeped from the hole. Trap widened his incision and allowed more of the pus to drain out. He carefully wiped away the effusion and tenderly probed the wound, producing a small sliver of black metal. He finished exploring the lesion and then cleansed it thoroughly, and then dressed and bandaged the wound. "He should recover fully," said Trap quietly.

Tristan's color was already improving and he was no longer hot to the touch. "Thank you," said Arora softly.

As night fell, Tristan stirred. He looked up into the gentle face of his wife, "am I dead?"

"Not quite yet," she smiled softly, "though at this rate it will not be long."

"What happened?" he asked.

"You had a splinter of that awful sword buried in your wound," said Arora, "Trap dug it out."

"Trap?" gasped Tristan.

"He saved your life," said Arora. She gave him a cup of water and he retreated into sleep.

It was nearly a week before he was strong enough to leave Trap's room, but once he began to recover he did so with abandon. During his convalescence, he had frequent visits from Bristol, Geff, and Turin (Arora hardly left his side). Trap, who had been relocated across the hall, was allowed to accompany Bristol on his visits. Tristan noticed a remarkable change in the man; he was no longer the cold, unfeeling man he had been at their parting nor was he the broken shell of a man that Bristol and Arora had come to know. Instead, he seemed to enjoy even the most mundane tasks and boring conversations, and he actually smiled on occasion. He had found his humanity at last.

There was much discussion as to their next course of action, but all agreed that Trap must be taken to Astoria and soon. The Lady needed to know whatever details of the Brotherhood the man was willing to share, and she was the only person who could judge his case and decide his fate. It was decided that Arora should stay in Arca as the unofficial eyes of the Brethren while Tristan, Bristol, and Turin would escort Trap to Astoria. Geff was free to go wherever he wished. "I want to go with you," said Geff to Tristan one day during his recovery. "

What about your Journey?" asked Tristan.

"I can learn more in Astoria than I could ever learn asking farmers about their preferred methods for raising chickens," laughed the boy.

"I thought you were only allowed to visit Syre and Arca," said Tristan.

"We are strongly encouraged to remain in the Eastern Realms, but it is not mandatory," said Geff, "besides, you said I could accompany you as long as our paths coincided. I am going to Astoria."

"You are more than welcome to come," said Tristan, "I just wanted to make sure you wanted to go."

"Who is Trap?" asked Geff.

"He once belonged to the Brotherhood," said Tristan, "where his allegiance lies now I do not know. He saved my life, but he is responsible for the deaths of at least three of the Brethren. The Lady must decide his fate, but you need to know who you are traveling with. He seems to have repented, but I cannot read a man's soul. He may be as foul a villain as he was the day we captured him. I hope he has had a change of heart as his knowledge may hold the key to the Brotherhood's undoing."

"Then you will need someone to watch your back," Tristan smiled at the boy's jest.

Arora was not pleased to be left behind (especially after Tristan's narrow escape), but someone had to stay and keep an eye on things. Bristol would return to his duties as soon as Trap was safely delivered to Astoria. The five men rode quietly away just as the sun was rising. Arora watched them go and returned to her duties. It was a rather uneventful journey, much to Geff's dismay. Trap did not try to escape and was even very helpful with the camp chores. Geff watched him closely, as if trying to discover the habits of some strange new animal. Tristan suspected that the boy was hoping for another sword fight. The three men took turns standing watch, but the prisoner never tried to escape and no enemies appeared to threaten their camp. They traveled quickly and soon reached their destination. Turin rode ahead, to warn the Lady of their coming. The others followed more slowly to give the Lady time to prepare as she thought she must. They rode unceremoniously into the courtyard of the castle, dismounted, and a groom attended to the real horses while the unicorns were dismissed to do as they pleased. A servant met them and led them to the Lady's small audience chamber.

Everyone, including Trap bowed; she motioned them to the waiting chairs. They were seated and she paced before them. "I welcome you all to Astoria," said the Lady, "though the circumstances of your arrival are most surprising. We have encountered several of your former colleagues, but they have always managed to kill themselves before we could speak with them. Why are you not an oily stain on the carpet?"

"Lady," began Trap, "long have I served darkness and my own selfish desires. I was on the brink of destruction when one of your servants reached out with compassion and saved my wretched life. I have known little of love and nothing of kindness. My whole life I felt there was nothing to live for but power, but I never found any joy or fulfillment in it. I have come to realize the futility of such things. For a time, I was a broken and empty man. I had reneged the darkness, but found nothing to take its place. Slowly I came to realize the joy of simple things: music, conversation, or sunshine. I yearned for joy and these simple delights began to shine a light into the stygian depths of my heart. I am now able to enjoy such things but yearn for something greater still. I yearn for the source of all joy, truth, and music. But I do not know how to attain that which I seek or if I will be accepted should I try. What would you have of me?"

"If I could," said the Lady, "I would know all you can tell me of this vile Brotherhood."

"I will tell everything I know," said Trap.

"Then begin," said the Lady firmly. She took her chair and looked at Trap expectantly.

He began, "the Brotherhood of the Serpent began not long after the events that led to the foundation of the Brethren, for The Brotherhood was the Evil One's answer to the Brethren. Long have they dwelt and acted in secret. Quietly doing whatever they could to confound the Master's plans and his servants. Evil and greedy men who seek out such power are somehow drawn to someone already immersed in it. The new recruit is then apprenticed to a full fledged member. Various rites, dark and evil, must be performed at several junctures along the way. The first is the swearing away of your soul to the Evil One. As one progresses along the path, your powers and skills increase. When you reach the final stages, you are given the ability to charm the Lurkers of the Northern Wilds. Mastering such a beast is the final sign that you are now a master within the Brotherhood. There is no central organization or official rank within the system and we rarely meet. I believe there is a central head, but I do not know his name or location. I believe he communicates directly with the Evil One who is said to shroud himself in the guise of a Black Dragon, or so I was once told. It is he who coordinates and plans our various tasks and assignments. We are not told more than we need to know. My assignment was to oversee the progress of our experiment in pandemonium in the East, specifically in the city of Arca. Messengers were sent directly to each agent in the field and occasionally showed up to check on our progress; there is no direct communication with the mysterious leader, save for the privileged few. The goal of the Brotherhood is to enable our masters to eventually overthrow the entire world and cover it in darkness and evil: to remake it in their own image. So far, the forces of good have triumphed. That is the basic idea. I can answer any specific questions you might have."

"Thank you," said the Lady standing again. "You did not beg for pardon or demand it in exchange for your information. You stand accused of murdering three of my servants, not to mention the other evils you have perpetrated that we are as yet unaware of. What have you to say?"

Trap calmly said, "I am guilty of far greater sins than you could possibly imagine. I will not beg for mercy, as I know I do not deserve it. That you have helped me regain my soul is enough; I am content. Do with me as you wish. I will face whatever your justice demands."

,The Lady replied, "you speak the truth. Your information will be very important to us in the coming days. I fear this Brotherhood of yours has only begun to give us trouble. You have recanted of your sins and have regained your soul. While it does not undo the evils you have wrought in the past, perhaps it gives hope for the future. You have also saved the life of one of my servants and for that I am deeply grateful. The law demands your head for the least of your crimes, but mercy and justice may be achieved through another means. If you truly seek the Master and will dedicate your reclaimed soul to his purposes you will be pardoned of death, however you must realize that in so doing you are losing any claim on your own dreams, wishes, or desires. You will be at my beck and call and I will send you into the very heart of danger. It is no more and no less than I demand of each of my servants. Because of your precarious circumstances, should you take the Oath and then violate or repudiate it, you will be held accountable for whatever justice demands. I am not letting you go free of charge, nor am I forcing you into a decision; the Oath cannot be forced. I am giving you an option; both will claim your life. One choice simply gives it purpose and direction; the other satisfies justice but is a terrible waste. Which will you choose?"

Astonishingly, Trap fell to his knees before the Lady and said, "I know little of this Master of yours and I know how little I deserve his mercy, but if you will have me, my life is yours to do with as you will. Perhaps you can put it to greater use than I." That night, before all there gathered, Trap took his Oath and swore his life to serve the Master and the Lady. For the first time in his life he felt hope and peace stirring in his soul.

Chapter 9

The last two months had been difficult for Arora. She tired of her present circumstances and longed for something more meaningful. She supposed it would help if she knew exactly what she was supposed to be doing instead of simply watching for anything 'suspicious.' Tristan and his party had ridden off with the sunrise a few days before and she was left to go about her daily business as court bard. Today she sat with the King's fourth daughter (he had six) in her rooms high atop one of the towers. The girl frequently requested Arora's presence, though Arora suspected it was more for someone to listen to the girl's romantic ambitions than for her music. As the fourth of six daughters (and by no means the handsomest) her chances of marrying well were not very good. Her father would probably marry her off in some political alliance with a sixty year old duke or consign her to the fifth cousin of some minor lord. She of course, dreamed of a handsome prince or at least a daring knight, but flights of fancy and the passions of the heart seldom matter much in such circumstances. As the girl talked of her longings for true love and a man less than twice her age, Arora played a bright, cheery melody on her instrument hoping to lighten the mood. A dark shadow passed over the ground outside and several people looked up and screamed as a monstrous green dragon flew towards the castle and alighted on one of the towers. He climbed effortlessly up the side of the tower and put his monstrous eye up to a window. Arora quit playing in surprise at the sudden appearance of the great eye but said nothing. The girl shrieked. At first Arora thought she was frightened but then realized she had screamed in delight.

"Finally!" said the girl, "I knew you would come."

"You did?" asked the confused dragon.

"Of course," said the girl, "I knew I was not destined for a marriage of political convenience. Princesses are destined for greater things, true love not least among them."

"I see," said the dragon who clearly did not understand a word she was saying. "

By tradition, ladies who are kidnapped by dragons must marry the man who rescues them," said the girl excitedly, "and no old man or whiny boy will dare face a dragon. Therefore, whoever comes to my rescue will be brave, handsome, and rich. So being kidnapped by a dragon is the most expedient way to ensure an agreeable marriage."

"Fascinating," said the dragon, "but I did not come to kidnap anyone. Unless, you happen to be a talented musician? I have a weakness for fine music."

"But you must kidnap me!" whined the girl, "how else am I to procure a proper husband? I cannot even hum, but why should that matter?"

"If you could play or sing I might be willing to put up with you," said the dragon, "but as it is, I think I would find you very irritating. Besides, what is the point of kidnapping a person? As a rule, dragons do not find men very tasty nor do we enjoy their company unless they are wise or talented beyond the usual scope of mankind. Holding you for ransom would be pointless; we often have enough treasure or can procure it by more efficient means. You have been reading too many fairy tales. Some things they put in the stories are just that, stories."

"Then why are you here?" whined the girl.

Remembering his mission he said, "I came in search of Tristan. I visited Astoria but the Lady sent me here. I can hardly tell one human from another, but I recognized the Lady Arora's music. So I thought I would see if she knew where he was."

He looked a question at Arora who said, "he and four others rode for Astoria several days ago. They should be there soon. You have just missed him."

The dragon looked disappointed, "you people are so busy all the time! Why do you not stop and nap for a few years every now and then? All this rushing about makes me dizzy. Anyway, I said I would check in on the black dragons for him and I have some information that he might find useful. Do you know if he will be returning or must I go back the way I came?"

Arora said, "I do not know where his path will lead him next, but I am sure he would be eager to hear your news."

"You can come with me!" smiled the dragon, "and entertain me along the way with your songs."

"I would love to," said Arora, "I am sure Bristol will be back soon and resume his duties here. I can be of more use elsewhere." The girl, who did not understand mucg of the exchange between the two and scowled evenly between them. Nargath wasted little time in fulfilling his offer. He simply withdrew his eye and gently inserted a forearm and whisked Arora safely onto his back. They were off in a moment.

The girl wistfully watched them fly off and muttered, "some people have all the luck."

"I did not realize your haste," laughed Arora, "thankfully there is nothing vital amongst the things I am leaving behind. How long will it take to reach Astoria?"

"It will be a two day flight," said the dragon, "you can sing for me once we make camp for the night." Nargath was notorious for his love of music; Arora had once played for him and he never forgot a good performance. They flew for the balance of the day and landed in a broad meadow for the night. Nargath passed a very pleasant evening listening to Arora sing and play. They were up with the sun and off on the final leg of their journey to Astoria.

Back in Arca, a groom sleepily shoveled muck out of a stall when he was rudely awakened by a horrendous sound. A horse in a stall on the far end had somehow broken out of its stall and was loose in the stable. He quickly grabbed a halter and cautiously approached the animal. She reared and he jumped back. She thundered out of the stable, through the open gates, and into the mid-morning traffic of the city. Someone was not going to be happy about this. Meanwhile a rumor had spread that a dragon had tried to kidnap one of the King's daughters but had mistakenly grabbed the court bard instead. Much to the girl's irritation, the news of her near kidnapping did not gain her any sympathy but only encouraged several of the young men to boast about rescuing the beautiful bard from the dragon's evil clutches. Though boasting was as far as they ever got in their quest for glory.

After the remarkable meeting with Lady, Tristan and Geff stood in the small audience chamber waiting to speak with her. She dismissed Bristol immediately back to his duties in Arca and sent Turin with Trap to introduce him to life in Astoria. Once she had dismissed the others, she turned her attention to Tristan and Geff. She smiled warmly at the boy, "welcome to Astoria. You are welcome to stay and attend classes if you wish, but I am afraid I must send Tristan again into danger and you will not be able to continue your journeys with him. A servant awaits you at the door to show you to your room." The boy bowed graciously and left the room. The Lady watched the boy run off with amusement and then turning to Tristan said, "where do you find all of these lost little boys and why do you bring them home for me to take care of?" She laughed and Tristan knew she did not resent 'taking in' one more 'stray.' Becoming serious she said, "what have you to tell me of circumstances in the East?"

He told her of all he had seen and done on his recent tour of the Eastern Realms. "This University seems a good idea," she said, "if only it actually taught something useful. Though news of a schism within the Order is troubling, it is not surprising. We are seeing fewer recruits from the Order as time goes on and many of those that do stay on with us resign from the Order completely. It seems we will soon be back where we started, but then we must either merge or go our separate ways. We could not go on indefinitely as two separate though intertwined groups. I just hope they have gained something positive from our influence. That they are willing to subject their men to this University either means they are looking for a viable alternative for expanding the minds of their men and are unaware of the inanities of the University or they are again under the influence of some pernicious power. I fear it is the latter." Tristan nodded his agreement.

"You spoke of sending me out into danger again," Tristan said, "have you ever done anything else?"

She laughed at his mock-concern, "you are the one who has chosen such a life. If ever you wish to retire to a less exciting role, say as a Teacher or maybe even a Philosopher, all you have to do is say so."

Tristan made a face of mock-horror, "anything but that my Lady."

She smiled, "then no more complaints about dangerous missions."

He laughed, "I was not complaining. I was merely curious where you will send me next."

She sobered, "that I do not know. Nargath arrived again today carrying Arora with him. He came several days ago and I sent him East in search of you. He found Arora in Arca and she accompanied him back here. He has some news for you about the black dragons. I know no more than that, but his news may tell you where you must go next."

"What of happenings in the East?" asked Tristan.

She replied, "I will send a few of the Brethren to assist Pallin in his 'studies,' and we will see what we can make of this University. Bristol is returning to Arca to continue his duties there. I have also sent more of our agents East in hopes of stopping this plot. As of yet, I have no set plans to counteract our enemy's plans in the East. I am hoping Nargath's news and Trap's information may prove helpful on that point. You must be anxious to see Nargath and more so your wife." He bowed formally, smiled a farewell, and left in search of the dragon and Arora.

It was not hard to find them (word of a dragon in the area was not long a secret) as they sat in a grassy field just outside the city. Tristan ran to Arora and drew her into a long hug. She did not realize how much she missed him, or how frightening his recent brush with death had been to her. He then made a formal bow to his old friend. "Tristan, finally!" boomed the dragon, "I have been running about like a panicked sheep trying to find you."

"I am sorry for the difficulty of your search," said Tristan, "but I thank you for your trouble. The Lady said you had news."

"Yes," said the dragon, "after we last met I cautiously sent messages to some of my acquaintances amongst the Black Dragons. One of them agreed to meet with me secretly, which was very odd. Black dragons are not known for being timid, and most of them are very fond of evil, but I do keep in contact with some of the more benign members of their race. No creature that I am aware of would frighten a black dragon except a bigger black dragon, but my informant was most definitely terrified. We met and he said that there was some terrible plot amongst some of his acquaintances, not that black dragons are overly social with anyone, but still, they do communicate, however infrequently. He said that some evil more vile than anything he had ever imagined was alive and well among some of the darkest of his race. Most of the black dragons dabble in evil, but he said there was at least one amongst them who had become evil incarnate. That is all he could tell me, besides the fact that this evil is exciting some reflection amongst the black dragons that perhaps it is time they took back various parts of the world instead of living as exiles in the Wildlands. I do not think they are planning anything within the next half century or so, dragons tend to take much longer to make decisions than men. Though, you live such short lives that if you took the time to thoroughly deliberate upon a matter you would accomplish nothing. No wonder you run about like leaves in a hurricane."

Tristan looked at the dragon seriously, "I wonder," he mused aloud, "I just left a meeting with the Lady where a former member of the Brotherhood of the Serpent revealed that their master sometimes reveals himself to mortals in the form of a Black Dragon. Perhaps this is the 'evil incarnate' your friend spoke of? Though it is worrisome to think he is inciting thoughts of conquest among your dark colleagues. Can you warn us if any such attack appears imminent?"

"Of course," said the dragon, "though I am not happy to learn that the Evil One has chosen to so degrade my species. Perhaps I should circulate this information, though carefully. It may rein in some of the more eager warmongers among us."

"Thank you," said Tristan, "I know what you have risked to find this information and what you continue to risk in assisting us." Nargath bowed in acknowledgement. Nargath stayed the night and the more talented musicians among the Brethren delighted him with their skills. In the morning, he set off for his lair in the Northern Wilds.

Geff, who had joined the previous night's festivities in the meadow, remarked to Tristan, "Raye really did have his draconian anatomy mixed up."

Tristan laughed, "that was the least of his worries. I wonder how many of those poor boys starve or freeze during the course of their journeys."

Geff said, "so far, none that I have heard of. Of course publishing such an event would not be in the University's best interest I think."

Tristan asked, "so what are your plans from here on out?"

Geff said, "the Lady has forbidden me to travel further with you, but I think I shall stay and partake in some real learning."

"That is a wise decision," said Tristan, "I look forward to seeing what you have learned."

The boy smiled excitedly, "and where are you off to?"

"The Lady has yet to tell me where I am going and what I am to do there," said Tristan, "I think it will be back to the Eastern Realms, at least until we get to the bottom of this situation." Tristan was correct; he was going back to the Eastern Realms. As Nargath's information had required no immediate action on his part, the Lady was sending him on a more useful quest (hopefully). The puzzle in the East still weighed heavitly on her mind and she was sending as many of the Brethren thence as she could spare. Arora had discovered nothing useful during her stay in Arca and the Lady was eager to have her continue in her more traditional role as a traveling musician who went from village to village teaching the Truth, legend, history, and many other things through song. Perhaps where men were tired of being talked at, they would eagerly listen to an evening of music. Tristan would accompany her as her 'guard.' It was a less exciting role than he was used to, but the company of his wife would well make up for the lack of adventure. It would also give him an excuse to travel from village to village and look for more suspicious characters. Turin would accompany them as far as their paths coincided; he had his own duties elsewhere in the East.

Music floated on the gentle breeze of evening. The sun had almost disappeared beneath the horizon and the sky slowly faded from orange to blue and then to black. Trap sat alone some distance from the festivities, not yet courageous enough to face his new colleagues. He respected the three men he had traveled with and felt at ease around them, but he was still very shy around the majority of the Brethren. He was still shocked at the outcome of the day, but for once in his life everything felt right. He saw someone walking towards him and looked about for a place to hide or a reason to flee, but he sat alone in the middle of an empty field. He must wait and face his visitor. Thankfully, it turned out to be Tristan. "A little overwhelming I think," said Tristan cheerfully, "for one so newly back from the dead."

Trap smiled weakly at Tristan's comment.

"My former colleagues were not so exuberant," said Trap, "I do not regret my decision but I fear it will be some time before I am completely at ease with such a drastic shift in my life."

"You will get used to it I think," smiled Tristan, "do not fear your past or the future. No one but a few know of your previous life and we are a friendly lot."

"Thank you," said Trap, "and to think I thought to take you on as an apprentice. Does the Master have a sense of humor?"

"I believe he does," said Tristan laughing, "else how could life take such sudden and unexpected turns?" As they talked, Trap seemed to relax; his life had literally turned upside down overnight, but he had fallen among an honorable and friendly group of people who would greatly ease the transition. As they talked, a shadowy creature approached from the distant woods. They quit speaking, and watched as it slowly and ominously approached. It stopped not far from the silent pair.

It was a unicorn, though the usual glow that usually surrounded the creatures was absent. If anything, this one seemed draped in darkness. She stood silently and stared at Trap. "She seems to know you," said Tristan.

"I am afraid she recognizes me as the man who slew her master," said Trap sadly.

"That would explain the darkness about her," said Tristan, "she must still mourn his loss."

"How smart are these creatures?" asked Trap.

"They are as smart or smarter than men," said Tristan, "they are no dumb beasts, and though they cannot speak with words they are still very good at getting their message across."

"I feel as if she is claiming my life in exchange for the life of her slain master," said Trap in confusion. "

Then that is what she is here for," said Tristan quietly, "you do not so much hear as feel their intentions."

"She means to kill me?" asked Trap.

"I do not think so," said Tristan, "or she would have done it already, besides she has no claim on your life if you have been pardoned by the Lady."

"Then what does she want?" asked Trap.

"I think she is claiming your life in service to her," said Tristan.

"What?" gasped Trap, "I do not understand."

"You have taken her master from her and she is claiming your life to fill that void," said Tristan.

"Me?" gasped Trap, "I killed the man dearest to her."

"Unicorns have a strange sense of duty," said Tristan, "they do things for their own reasons, but once you have been chosen there is no point in resisting. They are faithful to the point of death, even if you do not want their services. I would accept her offer or she will drive you mad with her persistence."

"What should I do?" asked Trap.

"Mount up," said Tristan with a smile. Cautiously Trap approached the creature. She gently sniffed him as he came within reach of her nose and whickered a greeting. The darkness dissipated as Trap approached and the glow, though faint, returned. She seemed to be waiting patiently for his next move. Very carefully, Trap climbed onto her back and she was off like an arrow. Tristan smiled, they would do well together. He walked back to find Arora and to enjoy the music.

The next morning, Geff and Trap were there to bid Tristan, Turin, and Arora farewell. Trap was to remain in Astoria, both to advise the Lady on matters pertaining to the Brotherhood and also to sharpen some of his skills and to learn more about the Brethren and the Truth. He was sorry to see his new friends go, but he no longer feared his new colleagues and actually relished the idea of becoming a student again. Geff was unhappy at being left behind, but he had so much to learn that he would not find their absence difficult. Nargath had left earlier, but had also bid them a warm farewell and asked them to visit when next they were in the North, especially Arora. They set out on their journey with joy, but the unknown course of the next few months troubled their thoughts. Turin rode with them until they reached the borders of Syre, where he turned South towards Arca and his own duties.

Tristan and Arora continued into Syre, planning to wend their way through the various villages between the Western border and the sea. Part of Arora's assignment was to counteract some of the misinformation and disinterestedness imparted by the students throughout rural Syre. Tristan's job was to protect his wife and keep an eye out for any more members of the Brotherhood. Both were to look for anything they could find that might help bring the whole situation to a close. The problem with fighting a vague enemy was that you must find the root of the problem and attack them, but the roots of this particular problem were well hidden. The University was a problem, but not THE problem. They had to figure out a way to disrupt the enemy's experiment in the East so that it would not spread throughout the rest of the world. Shutting down the University was not only unethical, but they had no legal grounds to do so. Besides, if one source of misinformation was quashed several others would spring up to replace it and in places they might not be aware of.

### Chapter 10

They arrived at a small inn in the evening three days after parting with Turin. The innkeeper was more than happy to have a musician (of even middling talent) play at his inn. If she was good enough, word would quickly spread and people would travel a great distance to hear her and if she stayed for several days his profits could be substantial. She was noncommittal when asked about staying for longer than a night. But he and his patrons were not disappointed in her abilities. She sang many songs of forgotten lore and tragic battles, of the Master and his dealings with men. She sang of love and war and death. She held her audience captive, as if some spell transfixed them. She finally took a break for a light supper and the audience returned to their previous pursuits in disappointment.

A scruffy and poorly fed student stood up as Arora sat down and said, "I thank the lady for her fine music, but now let us commence with something truly wonderful. I wish to expound upon my beliefs that the Brethren are out to conquer the world. Their belief that their ideas are the only ones that matter are outrageous and should not be tolerated in any part of the civilized world..." The boy continued on for some time without anyone paying him much heed. As he paused for breath after a particularly provocative segment, Arora stood up to play again. The audience came suddenly to life and the boy thought his points had hit home and they were finally responding to him. His look soured as he realized the true source of their joy. The innkeeper quickly shuffled him off to the kitchens and his waiting chores.

"I do not know how well I can follow such an interesting speech, but I shall try," said Arora with mirth and began to play. It was far into the night before she packed away her instrument and retreated to their room.

The next morning they were preparing to leave, though the innkeeper met them in the stable and begged them to stay another night. "We must be going," said Arora gently, "though perhaps I may stop here again in the future." He looked at her so pleadingly that she almost gave in but Tristan gently shook his head. "We do look forward to visiting again," said Arora apologetically, "but we really must be going." The man gave them a disappointed smile but wished them well on their journey.

After he had gone, Tristan finished adjusting a strap on his saddlebags then dropped the strap and immediately reached for his sword. Again, he heard the sound of rustling coming from the hayloft above. Soon the source of the sound became clear and Tristan released his grip on his weapon; it was the boy from the previous night. He clambered down the ladder and stood in the aisle, blocking their way. "Why are you not staying another night?" demanded the boy, "the innkeeper was desperate for your services. He would gladly have provided you with room, board, and a little pocket money. Some of us are desperate for such consideration."

Arora smiled sadly at the boy, "we have other places we must visit. We cannot stay long at any one place, besides my services are not for sale. They are for the benefit of all who care to listen and are not to be sold to the highest bidder."

"I knew you were mad," scoffed the boy, "and this just proves it. What is the point of having a talent if you do not exploit it? I cannot believe the audience was so enraptured by your myths and children's fables. What use are forgotten histories and love ballads to the modern mind? It is all fabricated nonsense and emotional rubbish; it has no practical use in the modern world. What those people need is information and lots of it. With information comes understanding and with understanding comes tolerance and with tolerance comes peace and prosperity. Your songs about love and war and honor are sentimental and outdated. As long as the common people cling to such nonsense, there will be no true progress or intellectual awakening among the masses."

"What use to the 'common people' is your information if they cannot apply it to their daily lives?" asked Arora, "if you had some modern technique for growing potatoes, perhaps anyone who raises potatoes would actually be interested in listening to you. But why would a merchant, a blacksmith, or a farmer want to hear a plethora of obscure and often erroneous information on things that have nothing to do with their lives or their livelihoods, the past or the future of man?"

The boy looked offended but continued, "everyone should be open to new information, even if it does not matter to them immediately, it may matter one day. Besides, how can they understand the rest of the world if they do not learn new things. Understanding and tolerance are the basis for peace and prosperity." He glanced in obvious disgust at Tristan's sword.

"Understanding and tolerance?" asked Arora, "do you live up to your own ideal, you who are so well educated?"

"Of course," said the boy, "I am open to and accepting of new things, people, and ideas."

"Your little tirade against the Brethren last night did not sound very tolerant," said Arora.

"They are a danger to the freedom of thought and rational thinking; the world must be warned," said the boy.

"And how did you come to this conclusion?" asked Arora, "have you ever met any of the Brethren?"

"Not personally," said the boy, "nor do I wish to. They are mindless fiends that only wish to remove all of the joy and intelligence from everyone they meet; they want everyone to be as abstemious as themselves. I have studied under some of the greatest minds in the known world and am convinced of the veracity of their ideas."

"So you have no first hand experience?" asked Arora.

The boy looked a little embarrassed, and was beginning to realize how weak his arguments sounded. "No," said the boy, "I do not."

"How can you claim to be tolerant of others if there is even one group with whom you disagree?" asked Arora, "should you not think all groups have a right to behave as they wish?"

"I suppose," said the boy, "but it is not right for such things to go on."

"You are right in saying that some things should not occur," said Arora, "some things should not be tolerated. It is one thing to understand someone, but quite another to condone evil when you encounter it. Therefore, you must either tolerate everything or quit speaking about the virtues of tolerance. Instead, encourage understanding and fight evil and injustice wherever you find it. And I would not go about preaching the virtues or evils of any particular person, group, or country unless you have personal experience."

"What you say makes sense," said the boy, "but it all seems so contrary to what we learn at the University. They say if we can all just understand each other then there will be no more misunderstandings and no more violence."

Arora smiled in commiseration, "as long as there are those willing to take advantage of others there will always be violence. Some violence is the result of misunderstanding, but much more of it comes as a result of someone violating the rights of another for their own gain. Sometimes violence is needed to ensure peace. My guard carries a sword, but he only uses it to defend me. He does not wield it against those who do not threaten me. It also discourages those who might see a woman traveling alone in the wilds as an easy target."

The boy looked truly troubled and confused, "who am I to believe?"

"Believe those you trust, those whose information you know is actually wisdom and not empty words," said Arora. She continued, "learn from your own experience and the experience of others. That is why I sing of histories, battles, and lore. We can learn from the past so we do not make the same mistakes in the future. If you look for it, you will find wisdom. Wisdom comes with experience and patience, not with the memorization of empty facts. People appreciate wisdom but resent false knowledge. Speak wisely and your message will not be spurned."

"You really care about my future?" said the boy.

"Yes," said Arora, "and I hope it is filled with wise choices on your part."

"Why do you care about a perfect stranger?" asked the boy, "especially when you are so talented and could easily ignore or embarrass me."

"I care about everyone," said Arora simply.

"Can I come with you?" asked the boy eagerly, "I think there is much you could teach me. You would not have to pay to feed or shelter me; I am used to earning my way."

Arora glanced at Tristan; he was as stunned as she. "Can you ride?" asked Arora.

"A little," said the boy enthusiastically.

Arora said, "as it happens we have a spare horse and you are welcome to borrow him for as long as you travel with us. But you must promise to do as you are told by either myself or my guard; you may leave us at any time and we also reserve the right to send you away. Do you understand?"

The boy nodded and said, "I promise." Arora had set out from Astoria on a normal horse as her unicorn had not yet had a chance to catch up with her. The mare had met them along the trail to Syre, thus they had a spare mount.

"We had best be going," said Arora, "if we are to make the next village by dark." They mounted up and were quickly on their way.

"Why are we bringing the boy along?" asked Tristan quietly as they rode side by side, "besides, I thought picking up lost young men was my job."

She smiled blandly at him and said, "I have no idea why he is coming with us, but it just feels right."

"I agree," said Tristan, "but I hoped you had some idea as to why he was coming along."

"At the least," said Arora, "we will see that he gets a couple good meals and a little real wisdom." They traveled all day with a brief stop for lunch.

As they chewed at the tough dried meat and stale bread, the boy worked up his courage to talk to Tristan. "Have you really used your sword against another person?" asked the boy.

"Many times," said Tristan quietly.

"Is it fun and exciting?" asked the eager boy.

"It is a frightening experience," said Tristan, "you may have to take a life and your own is at risk. It is such a muddle of excitement and terror that it cannot be explained but must be experienced. I would rather have become proficient in some other art, but that is not my fate. I have no talent with music or words; I am a simple warrior and must use what skills I have for the benefit of others. I do not relish the thought of taking another's life, but sometimes it must be done."

"You do not seem so cold-blooded as they would tell us at the University," said the boy, "they assume anyone who wields a sword must be bereft of all thought and feeling."

"There are many who wield swords," smiled Tristan, "and the vast majority of them still have souls. Do you have plans once you become a Scholar?"

The boy looked at Tristan, surprised at his apparent knowledge of the University. "I do not know," said the boy, "I hope to become an advisor to some king or wealthy lord, perhaps. How do you know so much about the University?"

"I was there briefly," said Tristan, "how long have you been on your journey?"

"I have been out here for a couple months already," said the boy.

"And what do you think of the life of a traveling scholar?" asked Tristan.

"It would be much better," said the boy, "if one was assured of having at least one meal a day and some shelter from the elements. But otherwise I have enjoyed the freedom of the road."

"Do you meet many interesting people in your travels?" asked Tristan.

"Most of the people I meet are local farmers or tradesmen, but I have often encountered fellow students," said the boy, "occasionally there are also some men of a darker tendency who like to watch the traveling students very closely. It is rather unnerving. And twice I have met seemingly learned men who engaged me in friendly debate. There have also been members of the Order of the Unicorn upon the road, busy with duties of their own. They are a fascinating group, there are many of them at the University. They are skilled in the arts of war, yet wish to study under men of peace. Do you know much of them?"

Tristan smiled wryly, "I have encountered them frequently in my travels and have even ridden with them at times. They are definitely an 'interesting' group of individuals." They set out again as the sun was just past its midday peak.

They arrived as planned at a thriving village along Syre's main East-West road as the sun was setting. The innkeeper gladly accepted Arora's offer to entertain his patrons for the evening; he was less happy to oblige the boy's request for a meal in exchange for help in the kitchens. Tristan spoke up and said that he would pay for the boy's meal. The innkeeper seemed mollified and went back to his duties. The boy took a seat in the back next to Tristan and said, "I will not take your charity. I said I would work for my meals and I am serious about that."

Tristan said, "I know you are and you will do as you have said in the future, but tonight I want to know that you have at least one good meal in you rather than whatever scraps the kitchen has left over." This silenced the boy and he dug into the heaping bowl of stew and warm, crusty bread that one of the serving girls brought to them. Tristan smiled as the boy ate ravenously. He remembered his desperate hunger so many years ago. He hoped this boy's current situation was only temporary and did not lead him into trouble. Arora sang most of the evening, only breaking occasionally for a brief rest. The boy, no longer feeling that he must compete with her, actually started to listen to her music and found it very enjoyable. The evening passed swiftly and soon it was time for bed. After the successful evening of music, the innkeeper was even willing to allow the boy to sleep in an empty room instead of the hayloft. They set out again early the next morning. For ten days, they journeyed deeper into Syre, moving from village to village. Nothing of note occurred over the course of their wanderings, but the boy learned much from his traveling companions, perhaps more than he had learned during his years at the University.

As Arora performed each night, her popularity and renown grew. The night she planned to visit a certain inn, it was bound to be packed with eager listeners. People traveled great distances just to hear her sing. The boy watched in fascination each night as people fell under her spell, but there was no magic, only beautiful music. One night as they sat in the back of a very crowded common room, a man sat down beside Tristan. Tristan recognized him immediately as one of the Brethren, though they had never met before. "It is a rainy evening," said Tristan noncommittally.

"Not weather I would like to be out in," said the man.

"What brings you to this part of the world?" asked Tristan.

"I am on an errand for a certain Lady," said the man mysteriously.

"Are not we all?" laughed Tristan.

"What news have you of these Eastern Realms?" asked Tristan.

"Nothing much to report," said the man, "there are a few sinister characters about but many more of these would-be scholars. I see you have acquired one."

"Our paths have crossed temporarily," said Tristan dryly.

"I see the lady has found herself quite a following," said the man, "she is much more effective at communicating to these poor people who are deluged by all this useless information than a simple speaker like myself. I appreciate her efforts. The Truth needs to be heard, most especially under such an assault on common sense, but the people are tired of talk and thirsty for wisdom. Thankfully, she can deliver it in a song. But I must be going. As you have things under control here, I will be more useful elsewhere. Goodnight." Tristan bid him goodnight as well. The boy was offended at the man's references to his fellow students, but the rest of the conversation meant little to him.

He glanced idly around the crowded room and his eyes found a surprisingly familiar face. He slipped out of his seat and wormed his way through the enraptured throng to the old man sitting in a far corner. "Professor Grumpus!" he said, "what are you doing here?"

"What?" asked the man, "oh, hello uh...Kurd?"

"It is Kard, sir," said the boy patiently.

"Yes, yes," said the man, "I am here to observe this mysterious songstress. Her renown has traveled as far as the University and I was dispatched to observe her. There is much talk of inviting her to perform at the University if she is half as good as we have heard. I think I feel comfortable making the invitation. Some of her themes are questionable, but she is an artist after all. Aside from her whimsical music choices, she is quite impressive. But I do not know if she would take my invitation seriously."

"I can introduce you," said the boy.

"Really?" asked the amazed old man, "that would be splendid. Let her finish her repertoire for the night and introduce us afterwards." The boy nodded his agreement and slipped back to his place beside Tristan. Arora sang for another couple of hours and then finished for the night.

Just before she retreated to her room, Kard said, "there is someone I would like you to meet." Just then the old man pottered over to their table. "This is the Most Distinguished Professor Grumpus," said the boy, "he has traveled all the way from the University and wishes to ask you a question."

The man bowed slightly, "we, the faculty of the University, wish to extend an invitation to you to perform for the faculty and students of the University and any others who wish to attend at your earliest convenience."

"I would be honored to play for such a distinguished group," said Arora, "at our current rate of travel we will be there within a week."

"Then I look forward to seeing you then," said the man. He bowed in farewell. Arora did not know whether to be excited or afraid; at her last command performance someone had tried to kill her. She smiled grimly, at least it meant she must be having an impact.

Kard was anxious to get back to the University with his distinguished traveling companions, but Arora would not change her plans or hasten their pace. She meant to visit as many villages as she could between their current position and Dara. Tristan was eager to see Pallin again and wondered how the poor boy was handling his apparent abandonment to illogicity run amuck; Tristan certainly did not envy the boy his assignment. Finally they arrived in Dara. Tristan was happy not to have knowingly encountered any members of the Brotherhood during their travels, but he did not doubt that there might be a few lurking around the campus. Kard led them to the Head of Visiting Experts who would be in charge of Arora's performance. He was overjoyed to meet her and expressed a great interest in hearing her play. He asked if tomorrow evening might do for a performance and she readily agreed. He said he would make the arrangements and asked her to make herself at home in Dara and at the University. After clearing things up with the Head, they went in search of Pallin. They found him washing dishes after the noon meal. He was almost frantic with joy at seeing them. They retreated to his small room (his roommates were all at lecture) and asked Kard to leave them for a time. He reluctantly agreed but was excited to find some of his former acquaintances and make them familiar with the recent happenings in his life.

"It has been very difficult these past months," said Pallin, "there is not a sane voice to be heard. I have been hearing so much nonsense that I fear soon I will start believing it!"

"Have you seen or heard anything of interest?" asked Tristan.

"If there are shadowy men about," said Pallin, "they are kept well away from the students. I have nothing to report. I have noticed a few of the Brethren among the student body, though we have had little chance to talk. I assume the Lady has taken an interest in the University?"

Tristan nodded, "she is increasing our numbers in the area and hoping someone will figure out something that will soon put an end to this siege of unreason."

"I have heard much of a traveling bard who will soon grace us with her skills," said Pallin with a proud smile.

Arora blushed, "I have been asked to perform tomorrow night for the University."

"That is quite an honor as they pride themselves on offering only presentations from the best experts in the world," said Pallin, "though some of these experts would not qualify as such in my estimation." They talked until the evening meal was to begin and then went in search of supper.

Arora's concert was slated for the following evening, and Tristan hoped to enlist some help with security at the evening meal. Pallin had seen or spoken with at least three other members of the Brethren amongst the student population and both men hoped to discover a few more. During the course of the meal they circulated around the dining hall and quietly asked their colleagues to meet after the meal, outside on the lawn used for the traditional evening debate. They would discuss their plans during the debate, when a small gathering of students talking quietly would not elicit comment. They managed to round up four others to help keep Arora safe during her University début; three were previously known to Pallin and the fourth was the man Tristan had met briefly at an inn as he and Arora had traveled through Syre. The plan was simple: they would scatter themselves throughout the audience and keep their eyes open for trouble.

The evening of Arora's performance arrived and everyone except Tristan came early to claim a seat that allowed a quick exit and a good view of their assigned areas. Tristan followed Arora at a distance and kept a close eye on any suspicious activities. Arora took her place before the gathered audience; the concert was to take place in the open area between the buildings and almost all of the students and faculty had gathered for the event. It was a large audience and a huge area to watch, but Tristan hoped they had enough help. The concert began and Arora did a superb job, even though most of her material was considered mythical, outdated, or useless by those gathered to hear her. They were enchanted by her musical skills and the amazing stories that unfolded as the night wore on. Halfway through, she paused for a rest. The transfixed audience finally noticed their tired, stiff muscles from sitting still for so long and began to stir. During the chaos of the intermission, Tristan glanced around at his fellow Brethren. All were keeping a close eye on things, except for the unnamed man they had met during their travels. He stared implacably at Arora and seemed to be arguing with himself. Suddenly he seemed to come to some decision and drew forth a dagger. Tristan watched in horror, unable to move through the milling crowd, as the knife left the man's hand and went sailing through the air towards Arora.

As the dagger left his hand, the man experience some horrendous internal pain and crumpled to the ground in a heap. The knife flew harmlessly past Arora, lodging itself in the ground behind her; the aim having been thrown off by the sudden collapse of the attempted assassin. Arora's eyes searched the audience frantically for Tristan. He caught her eyes and gave her a reassuring smile as he rushed to the fallen attacker. The other four Brethren gradually moved in closer to Arora, but still remained in the audience. Most of the crowd noticed nothing and Arora continued the concert as planned. The fallen man was hunched over, as if in pain, and was gradually making his way towards the edge of the crowd. He broke free of the crowd and took off in a stumbling run; Tristan was slowed by the milling audience. Finally he broke through the gathered people, but could no longer see the villain so ran in the direction the man had fled. The man ran into the woods behind the buildings occupied by the University. Ahead, Tristan heard sounds of a scuffle and a muffled scream. A most peculiar sight awaited him when he emerged into the moonlit clearing.

Sobbing miserably, the would-be killer hung pathetically from the mouth of a horse who held his shirt collar tightly in his teeth. If the situation were not so serious it would have been laughable. The changes in the man himself were astonishing. Where once he had looked to be in his mid-twenties, he now appeared to be a man in his fading years. His eyes constantly moved, as if in search of something he had lost or in fear of some hidden danger. "Why?" asked Tristan as he approached the man, "what could tempt you to break your Oath and take an innocent life? At least if you wish to be free of your Oath have the decency to do it privately and not involve others in harm!"

The man sobbed pathetically and sputtered, "he lied to me."

"Who?" asked Tristan.

"The...the...dark man who came and spoke with me," sobbed the man, "he said I would suffer no ill effects for violating my...my Oath."

"What did he promise you in return?" asked Tristan.

"He said," wept the man, "that his dark masters would protect me and there would be ample reward."

"Can you find this man?" asked Tristan.

"We are meeting tonight at the Broken Horn," said the man.

"You will keep your appointment," said Tristan quietly.

"He might kill me!" protested the man.

"You are as good as dead anyway," said Tristan grimly, "perhaps some good may come of this night."

It was nearly time for the man to meet the dark stranger at the specified inn, but first Tristan had to talk the man's unicorn into releasing him. "I know he betrayed you," said Tristan, "he has betrayed us all. It is up to the Lady to deal with him, not you or I. I need him for a few hours, after that you may escort him back to Astoria." The creature finally dropped him, but gave both men a dark look before vanishing into the forest. Tristan very nearly had to carry him out of the woods. As they stumbled along, he slowly regained some strength and was able to continue of his own volition. As they neared the inn, Tristan said, "go to your meeting and do not make the man suspicious that you have been captured. I will be nearby and will deal with him when the time is right." The man nodded mechanically and wandered listlessly towards the inn. It was a seedy place with more dust than light. The man chose a table near the back and waited. Tristan found a window open on the second floor and climbed inside. There were gaping holes in the floor of the second story making it easy for Tristan to sit above the man's table and hear anything that might be said.

Shortly, a dark cloaked figure entered the inn and took a seat at the table opposite the fallen Brother. "You failed," hissed the stranger.

"You lied," moaned the man.

"Perhaps if you had succeeded things might have been different," scoffed the stranger.

"No," said the man, "the result would have been the same."

"Finally some wisdom!" laughed the stranger, "but perhaps too late. You are no longer of use to me or my masters. You are pathetic and broken. Good riddance." The dark man reached across the table and the other man fell into a deep sleep, just shy of true death. He laughed softly to himself and disappeared out the back of the inn. Tristan made to follow, but was set upon by two very large men who loomed out of an empty room and kept him from following the vile stranger. They disarmed him, bound his hands, and led him away. In desperation, his mind sought for Taragon who was thankfuly nearby and bid him follow the dark man. "You are coming with us," laughed one of the two, "you have been a very naughty man tonight." He was helpless to do anything but allow the two immense men to escort him where they wished.

The concert superb and hardly anyone noticed the attempt on Arora's life. Afterwards, one of the department heads led Arora off to a quiet room for a bit of talk. "The faculty have elected me to speak on their behalf," said the man, "they were very impressed with your musical abilities and historical and mythical knowledge. If it is agreeable to you, we wish to offer you a professorship at the University. You would be the new head of the Department of Music, Lore, and Myth." Arora was speechless but somehow managed to convey her approval. "There are a few stipulations," said the man, "first, as a woman you would be a distraction to our all-male campus. So, in order to fill this position you must find yourself a husband. Here is a list of interested faculty." He gave her six sheets of paper filled with names; she never knew she was so attractive. She raised her eyebrows when she noticed Professor Grumpus's name at the top of one list. "Also," said the man, "we have apprehended a suspect in the little incident with the knife. He was seen running from the performance shortly after the attack and was also seen following you earlier this evening. He was apprehended in a shady part of town and discovered to be heavily armed. One of our students, Raye, has also informed us that he may be involved in the disappearance of another student called Geff. He is also guilty of impersonating a student without officially registering with the University." Arora did not know whether to laugh or cry; she had a good idea who they had apprehended. She then described the suspect perfectly. "So you know this man?" asked the professor.

"Know him?" said Arora with a laugh, "he is my husband!" She smiled at the man's shock. "He fled the performance in pursuit of the true attacker," said Arora, "the student called Geff was safe when we parted. The ugly scar along his side was taken in defense of Geff's life. He is not a threat to anyone unless they threaten the innocent. If he is guilty of impersonating a student, feel free to register him as one. You may return his weapons and release him from custody nor will I be needing your list of potential suitors. You may say that I am married, but my husband wishes to remain anonymous." The man was shocked but did as she said. She then retired to her quarters; it had been a long evening.

Arora returned to her room after the concert and meeting quite exhausted; it had been a strange day. She yearned to see Tristan again but knew he was busy with her assailant. She wanted only to find her bed and sleep away what was left of the night. As she opened the door, a chill wind greeted her though she did not remember leaving the window open. A cloud of evil rolled out of the darkness and a cold voice spoke, "you will pack your things and leave now. If you do not, you will not live to regret it. Your presence is not wanted here and I will do what I must to make sure you do not meddle in affairs beyond your knowledge."

"Get out of my room and bother me no longer," said she in a calm, firm voice.

"Why do you not tremble in fear?" asked the perplexed voice, "all shudder at my presence."

"I fear no evil that stems from such a pathetic source," said Arora, "away with you or face my blade." As she spoke she drew forth the sword carefully hidden among the folds of her gown.

"You have been warned," snarled the voice as he hurled himself out of the shadows and flung himself at Arora. Tristan may be better than she with a blade, but she was no novice. She proved an even match for the stranger and dealt him a parting slash upon his shoulder. "You have not seen the last of me," growled the man as he leapt out the window. The sound of fleeing hooves came through the open window. At that moment Tristan came running into the room.

"What happened?" he demanded, though not unkindly.

"I found a strange man lurking in my room and threatening me with violence if I did not leave at once," said Arora.

"I must be after him, I am afraid," said Tristan plaintively. "I was held up by some University henchmen and would have lost his trail save for Taragon who tracked him to this building. I have a feeling he will lead me to something we have been long in search of. I love you." He embraced her briefly and followed the man out the window. Taragon was waiting and the pair quickly disappeared into the night. She stared after them for some time, bolted the window, and sought her bed though sleep was long in coming.

### Chapter 11

For two days they followed the stranger into the uttermost east of the world. There on the rocky shores of the Eastern Sea they watched as he disappeared into a menacing old castle high upon a sea cliff. It was the night of the second day and the moon had not yet risen. Tristan used the darkness as cover to explore the outer walls of the castle. He could see men upon the battlements and hoped none glimpsed him as he moved quietly along the wall seeking some means of entrance. The front gate was undoubtedly barred against intruders; he doubted that knocking politely was a good idea. Suddenly he heard voices coming up behind him. He sought in vain for somewhere to conceal himself and reached for his sword, knowing it was too late. He saw one of the men raise a frightful looking club as he grasped his sword. As the blade slid free of its sheath, his vision blurred and he stumbled forward dizzily. His fingers grew numb and unresponsive; the blade fell uselessly to the ground. Tristan fell forward just as the club landed squarely on the back of his head. Darkness overcame him and he knew no more. "Good hit Brom," snapped the man without the club.

"Thank you Prat," grinned Brom stupidly, "I try."

"Who do you think he is?" asked Prat.

"Dunno," said Brom, "but he won't be telling us neither."

"What do you mean?" growled Prat.

"I think I broke his neck," said Brom in distress, "he is not breathing."

Prat rushed to the side of the sprawled figure and sought in vain for a pulse, "the general is not going to like this. This guy is lucky, he would not have liked his welcome inside. The general will have questions and we do not have any answers. Come on, maybe he has something on him that will give us some idea where he came from or who he is." Together they lifted Tristan's prone figure and drug it into the castle.

They searched his pockets and belt pouch but found nothing but a few coins, some well-worn but nondescript clothes, and a spare bowstring. Prat whistled as he looked at Tristan's chest, "whoever he was, he sure has been through something! Look at all those scars." A variety of scars crisscrossed his chest and arms, acquired in over a century of service to the Brethren.

Just then the door swung open and an important looking man walked in scowling. "What is so important that it must interrupt my meeting?" growled the general.

"We found this bloke sneaking around outside and thought you should know," said Prat meekly.

"Has he told you anything useful?" asked the general.

"He is not exactly speaking," said Prat, "or breathing for that matter. He took a nasty blow to the head."

The general snarled in irritation, "has your search revealed anything useful?" They shook their heads. "Then why are you bothering me and wasting time?" said the general, "he might have friends out there. I want every available man to comb the area and capture his colleagues alive."

"What about him?" asked Brom at a very bad time.

"I do not care what you do with the corpse as long as it does not bother me," shouted the general as he stormed out of the dungeons.

Brom looked dimly at Prat who said, "dump the body in the refuse cart. I will dispose of it after we search the area. We had better get moving and wake the guard." Every available man was roused from his bed or taken off the walls and put to work combing the darkness for any reinforcements. The general was left alone in the courtyard with three cloaked men.

Tristan woke slowly, as if from a long sleep. He sat on the ground, well padded with spongy moss. Around him the boles of ancient pines lifted their hoary heads high into the sunshine though around him only scattered patches of light made its way to the forest floor. It was pleasantly warm, though there was a hint of autumn coolness in the late morning air. Somewhere behind him a chattering brook played over its stony bed. He turned his head and saw what had awakened him. A unicorn stood gazing at him longingly. He recognized her immediately as Aria, the mare that had traded her life for his. If she was here then... The thought that he might be dead quickly vanished from his mind. The mare winked at him and then fled into the forest as an ominous presence came up behind him. He had never felt such power before, as if the sun itself had come out of the heavens to walk amongst men. He had once seen a reflection of the great figure that stood before him, but to be in his presence was quite another matter. He knelt with his head bowed in awe and fear.

The Master spoke, "be at ease and walk with me." Somehow he found the strength and courage to do as he was bidden and walked quietly beside the Master of All. They were silent for some time as they walked the paths of the ancient grove, but finally the Master spoke, "you may have guessed where you are." Tristan nodded. The Master continued, "you are but a sojourner here. One day you will come hither and never again tread mortal soil, but for now you are just a visitor." Tristan looked at him in confusion. He continued, "had you been captured alive, you would have wished very soon for the alternative and many carefully laid plans would have come to naught. I have called you here to further my plans. A corpse may go places that a living man may not. For people do not fear to be overheard by the dead; they are very good at keeping secrets. You will waken with a headache, but little worse for wear. Farewell my son." Tristan looked upon the Master one last time and again lapsed into darkness.

He woke with a start, darkness surrounded him and pain erupted in his head. Aching muscles complained from laying on a hard surface for too long. He felt cautiously around him in the darkness and felt wood beneath him and a tarp above him. The small, confined space smelled strongly of rotten produce and old horse dung. He guessed he must be in some sort of wagon used to haul garbage. He felt about himself and discovered his weapons and all his possessions about him, save his purse was empty. He carefully raised the tarp enough to see out into the night. Four figures stood not far off; one facing the other three. The one said, "I apologize for the delay, but we had a minor security breach but it has been rectified. Please report what you have encountered in your assigned sectors."

The man on the right said, "the students are having the desired effect. Sometimes there are two or three together, each more befuddled than the next. The locals will listen to nothing anyone has to say. The Brethren are out in force, but they cannot get a word in edgewise." He laughed with mirth and continued, "I have reports of one or two singers going about and having an impact, but there are too few of them and there are too many of our students for them to make any headway."

"Good," said the one, "what news from Arca?"

The man said, "the last my agents heard or saw of the traitor, he was headed for Astoria under guard. It is assumed he died there."

"Make no assumptions," snarled the one, "our master wants him dead. No one is allowed to violate their oath to the Brotherhood and lives to tell about it. Find him and destroy him." Tristan thought they must be speaking of Trap. The lone man turned to the man in the middle, "what news from the Order?"

The man said, "discord grows daily between those who have gone to Astoria and those who have not. Many of the latter have already resigned their commissions and very few now venture forth for that cursed city. We hope very soon to force the resignation of all who have taken that vile Oath and then to reshape the Order into something far more useful."

"What of the usurper Karly?" asked the one.

"We hope very soon to have him expelled from the High Council and allow you to return to your former post," said the man.

"Very good," smiled the one, "continue as planned." The man bowed in acquiescence. The lone man turned to the man who had not yet spoken, "and what of the University?"

The man answered, "I have had the privilege of watching one of the Brethren violate his Oath. He failed at his assigned task, but it was a satisfying experience. The University has acquired a songstress and put her on staff as a professor. I am sure she is one of those blasted Brethren. She actually teaches something useful, I plan to do away with her as soon as may be. Otherwise things progress smoothly."

"Very interesting," said the one, "proceed as you think necessary, but do not let anyone know what happens to the songstress. It would be a pity to make her a martyr. And make sure those fools at the University do not hire anyone who actually has any useful knowledge." The final man bowed low. "You have made your reports and you have your orders," said the one, "keep me posted." All three bowed, mounted their horses, and rode off into the night.

Shortly, Prat returned from his fruitless search. "Well?" demanded the general.

"We found nothing sir," said Prat fearfully, "he seems to have come alone."

The general swallowed his anger and said, "the next time a prisoner dies on your watch you will wish for the same fate."

"Yes sir," swallowed Prat. The general stormed off into the keep. Prat hitched up the carthorse to the refuse wagon and glanced quickly into the back. Tristan lay as still as he could and held his breath. He seemed to convince the man that he was still dead because Prat climbed into the wagon seat and drove out of the courtyard. The sun was coming up by the time the wagon stopped and Prat pulled back the tarp. He crawled into the back of the wagon and pushed Tristan's inert form off the back. Tristan did his best not to groan or flinch as he hit the ground. The man quickly replaced the tarp and turned the wagon back towards the castle. Tristan lay still, breathing slowly and shallowly for half an hour. The man did not return. He picked himself up off the ground and began walking deeper into the woods. The anxious Taragon found him quickly and after much fussing was finally convinced Tristan was well. Tristan mounted and rode as fast as he could for Astoria.

It was a long way, but a unicorn in a hurry can make excellent time. They finally reached the gates of the city and Tristan nearly fell out of his saddle with exhaustion. He was covered in dust and smelled vaguely of the refuse wagon, but he demanded to see the Lady immediately. A rather embarrassed servant bowed him into her presence, wondering how such an apparent vagabond could be allowed into the Lady's presence in such a condition and upon demand. Tristan quickly recounted his adventures.

"This is quite a story," said she in amazement, "we must act quickly. I will send as many of our musicians as can be spared into the east. I think each should have an armed escort as well. Perhaps we can influence with music where speech fails altogether. I will also quietly alert High Councilor Karly of these tidings and put all of our people within the Order on alert. I fear we have not seen the last of our difficulties with the Order. You must return quickly to the University and see that Arora is protected. Perhaps we can have a greater influence there and actually teach these eager young minds something worth learning. I will send a few more Teachers thither and see what they can do. These tidings of the attempt on Arora's life sadden me greatly; we will deal with the perpetrator when he comes. I will also see what we can discover of this strange castle and its vile inhabitants. I really wish you would quit trying so hard to get yourself killed, the suspense is not good for anyone." She smiled at him fondly and he bowed himself out. After a quick wash, a meal, and a much needed rest, he was very soon on his way to the University.

### Chapter 12

Tristan pressed as hard for the University as he had for Astoria. By the time he finally reached Dara he was exhausted, had a nice growth of beard, and was covered in dust and sweat. He was so anxious to see Arora that he did not even stop to clean up but sought her out immediately (though it might have been a more pleasant meeting for her if he had). He found her in her rooms talking to a student after the day's lectures were finished. It took Raye a moment to recognize Tristan, but when he did, he was not pleased to see him. "What are you doing here?" scowled the boy. Tristan could not help himself, after all he had been through, being confronted so by a mere boy was too much.

He burst out laughing and it was some time before he regained control of himself enough to answer. "I have come to speak with Arora," he said as calmly as he could.

"Professor Arora and I," Raye began, emphasizing the title, "are in the midst of an important discussion. Whatever you have to say can certainly wait. Besides, I thought you had been arrested. You could at least take a bath occasionally."

Arora rolled her eyes at the rudeness of her student, "Raye, we can finish this later. The major causes for the first battle of Corona really are not so vital that we cannot discuss them at a future time."

"But I was here first," whined the boy, "he is not fit to be seen in polite company. Why is he more important than I am? He is not even a student."

"Of course he is," said Arora, "he was registered as a student just the other day." Tristan gave her a horrified look but Raye did not notice. She continued, "all of my students are important. Tristan just has some information that I have been anxious to hear. We will discuss your questions later." The boy glared at Tristan as he left the room, but he allowed them a moment alone.

Arora quickly shut the door once the boy was out of sight. As grubby as he was, she embraced her husband for a long time. Once they had finished with the necessary greetings and endearments they got down to business. Arora was disturbed by Tristan's news, but it was nothing surprising. Her role as a professor was going well. The students flocked to her lectures and some of the other faculty were growing a little jealous. As the head of a department, she was authorized to find new faculty to work beneath her; she was actively seeking highly qualified individuals to assist her in actually teaching something useful. She was also allowed an equal vote on all issues addressed by the University, which allowed the Brethren to know exactly what was happening at the highest levels of the school.

Pallin and his three associates had been keeping a close eye on things and there had been no further threats to her life. Though she thought someone was trying to undermine her authority from above, which seemed likely after Tristan's news. The students, though always eager to learn, seemed ravenous for knowledge that actually meant something. Arora's lectures were always full, which made security a little more difficult, but also prevented attacks that the perpetrator would rather keep secret. A curious rumor was also circulating that a man had fallen asleep in a disreputable inn and his horse had come in through the front door and drug him away. Tristan recounted his encounter with Arora's attacker and they knew his unicorn had found him in his enchanted sleep and would take him back to Astoria. If it were not so tragic it would have been ridiculous. They talked for as long as they could, but all too soon a knock came at the door. Arora peeped her head out and found a student waiting politely with a question. Tristan felt it better not to be seen alone in her quarters so disappeared out the window only to find a drawn sword at his throat.

Pallin quickly put up his blade once he recognized Tristan through the dirt and unshaven face. He laughed, "what happened to you?"

Tristan joined in his laughter, "it has been a long journey." He told his tale and both men quickly sobered. "Are you here simply to threaten anyone who cares to jump out of a window?" asked Tristan lightly. He appreciated the close watch they were keeping on his wife. "Has anyone noticed your security measures?" asked Tristan more seriously.

"I do not think anyone has noticed anything suspicious," said Pallin, "we try to be discrete and most of the people around here are so caught up in their own little worlds that they would not notice us even if we wore bright red tunics and openly brandished our swords." Tristan smiled at his observations, sadly it was not far from the truth.

"Since I am now an 'official student' I can help with your guard duties," said Tristan, "at least once I have a chance to clean up." Pallin smiled and directed him to his quarters (which he happened to share with five other students, including Pallin). Tristan thanked him and headed in the direction indicated. Washing up had never felt so good nor had sleep ever been so gratefully received. By the time he awoke, it was nearly a day later.

Pallin gave him a hard time for being able to sleep through the racket caused by five other students, but he was glad to see his friend well-rested (and clean). It was too late in the day to attend any lectures, but Pallin was happy to explain their plans and rotation schedule for protecting Arora. There was always someone close by, either in her classes, the dining hall, or outside her rooms. The robes the students wore provided a wonderful way to conceal a sword. Arora also carried her weapon with her whenever she was abroad. They found their way to the dining hall and claimed their share of the evening meal. Raye and some of his friends came and sat beside Tristan and Pallin. "Greetings gentlemen," he sneered, "I see you have deigned to dine with the commoners. We are honored by your presence, especially since you discovered the virtues of water." Tristan just shook his head at the boy's rudeness. "You will both remember that Professor Arora is a lady and will treat her accordingly," said the boy, "she is under my protection."

"Your protection?" asked Tristan skeptically.

The boy sneered, "yes, my protection. I am the fourth son of a very wealthy lord and you would be wise not to cross me. I also have extensive skill with a blade."

"I see," said Tristan, "what exactly do you have against me?"

The boy smiled viciously and said, "you interfere far too much in things that do not concern you. I do not like meddlers, especially peasants who meddle. It is one thing to meddle with a mental pygmy like Geff, but quite another to interfere with me, the University, and Professor Arora. You would be wise to quietly disappear. But I fear wisdom is not one of your strengths so I cannot expect you to do as you are told."

"And how exactly am I meddling with any of that?" asked Tristan patiently.

"Your very presence is irksome to me," said the boy, "and I do not think the professor appreciates it either."

"Perhaps we should let her speak for herself," said Tristan wryly.

"A lady should not have to say she is dissatisfied," said the boy, "a true gentleman prevents any irritation that he possibly can."

"I will keep that in mind," said Tristan smiling. They resumed the thoughtful silence of eating, but many dark looks passed from Raye's friends towards Tristan.

Since he had slept all day, Tristan felt refreshed enough to take the first part of the night watch. After supper, Arora attended the familiar debate upon the lawn, but said little. A few of her more promising students even found enough courage to make a few semi-rational statements. It was a start. Tristan mingled with the other students and talked briefly with each of the other Brethren scattered about the crowd. After the debate, Arora retired to her quarters for some much needed sleep. She left the window open and Tristan hid himself nearby, listening and watching intently. The night wore on slowly with nothing more exciting than a catfight interrupting Tristan's watch. Shortly after midnight, a pair of men walked nearby whispering quietly to one another. They stopped not far from Tristan's hiding place. "You are sure you can do it?" asked an older voice.

"Yes," said the younger voice, "it will not be difficult."

"I hope for your sake it is not," said the older man as he ambled away. The boy crept towards the open window and concealed himself in the shadows for some time. Tristan watched him quietly. The time drew near for Tristan's watch to end and the next watch to begin.

A dark shape quietly approached Arora's window. The man looked around cautiously, suddenly the boy jumped out of the shadows and said, "who goes there?"

"Who cares to ask?" asked the confused man. He had been looking for Tristan, not some boy hidden in the shadows.

"I will ask the questions," growled the boy.

"And who gave you such authority?" asked the man.

"I am acting under the authority of various important personages associated with the University," said the boy.

"And what exactly is your goal?" asked the mystified man.

"I am to keep a close watch upon this window tonight," said the boy, "there are foul plans afoot."

"I see," said the man, "and who has alerted you to these plans and who is doing the planning?"

"Why should I answer your questions?" asked the boy.

"Because we seem to serve a common purpose," said the man, "it is also my duty to guard this window against hostile forces."

Arora, awakened by the debate stuck her head out the window and said, "if you two must argue, can you do it elsewhere?" Both of the men jumped in surprise and made polite bows to the lady.

"I am sorry to awaken you my lady," said the boy, "but this man insists upon asking foolish questions and will not reveal his business."

"And what exactly is your business outside my window at such an hour?" asked Arora of the boy.

The boy puffed out his chest and said, "I am here to defend you against those who would do you harm."

"And what hostile foe am I facing save a lack of sleep?" asked Arora.

"We should discuss this in private," said the boy.

"I agree," said Arora, "you must all three come inside and we will discuss this civilly and quietly.

"Three?" gasped the boy as Tristan stepped out of his hiding place.

"Three," said Tristan patiently, "let us not keep the lady waiting, I do believe that is the gentlemanly way to act in such an instance." The three men traipsed into the building and quickly found themselves facing Arora in her own quarters.

"My lady," began the boy, "what are these men doing lurking outside your window at such an hour?"

"I will ask the questions Raye," said Arora patiently. "My question is," said she, "what exactly are you doing outside my window at this time of night?"

The boy swallowed nervously and said, "it has come to the attention of some of the faculty that your life may be in danger. It was decided that perhaps a watch should be kept to keep you from harm. I volunteered for the first shift, as I am skilled with a blade. I was maintaining my position outside your window, ready to ward off any would-be invaders when this man happened upon me. And yet another man was hidden in the shadows watching everything. I must say that I have distrusted this man from the beginning. He has negatively influenced at least one fellow student and I also have reason to suspect him in the attempt on your life at the concert."

"And what would you have done had a true threat arisen?" asked Arora.

"I would have defended your life with my blade," said the boy proudly.

"And what if you were outmatched by this attacker?" asked Arora, "would you have bought my life with yours?"

"Any true man would call it a fair exchange to die in place of a lady," said the boy gallantly.

"What training have you had with a sword?" asked Arora.

"I have been instructed by the finest available warriors since I was big enough to hold a sword," said the boy.

"Your sentiments do you credit, but I fear you will sell your life for naught," said Arora, "I do not wish an unsuspecting student to die on the blade of a professional killer."

"I am not an unsuspecting student," said the boy in irritation, "I know what it is I face."

"Do you?" asked Arora, "are you willing to face someone who has sold their soul in exchange for dark and vile powers? Are you willing to risk your life on the possibility that your swordsmanship is better than that of a seasoned warrior? Have you ever taken a life or even drawn blood? Have you faced a living man in actual battle where your life hangs in the balance? I do not doubt your heart, but I will not allow you to risk your life in defense of mine if you are not up to the task."

The boy was not happy with her assessment of his skills and said, "I am every bit the warrior as either of these men even dream of becoming. I may never have faced someone in actual combat but I am not afraid."

"It is not whether you are afraid or not," said Arora, "it is whether or not you will get yourself killed in the process because you are lacking in skills or freeze in terror."

"May I ask what these two were doing outside your window?" said the boy petulantly.

Tristan nodded to Arora's silent question. "These men were doing what you were attempting to do," said she, "there is a threat against my life as long as I remain here. There are those who do not appreciate my interference in matters concerning the University. They and a select few are constantly guarding my person from potential threats."

"Why do you trust such a man to protect you my lady?" asked the boy as he glared at Tristan.

"I trust him more than any man alive," said she, "and you would do well to trust him also."

"Why?" asked the boy.

"He is a skilled warrior and a dear friend," said she, "I trust him with my life." "Why are you so interested in my safety?" asked Arora.

The boy blushed and said, "I have traveled a bit during my journey and everywhere I went I was ignored or ridiculed. You are respected and listened to everywhere you go. I want to know why so I can gain such respect. You also seem to know a great deal about many things rather than much about some small topic that no one cares about. You are the only professor that actually speaks about useful things. I have also come to respect you greatly as a teacher and as a person."

"You would risk your life on only a few weeks' acquaintance?" asked Arora in surprise.

"Any man should risk his life in defense of even an unknown lady," said the boy simply.

"Are there many students or faculty that feel as you?" asked Arora.

"There are a good number of us concerned with your safety, though few are skilled enough to defend you," said the boy, "but such as have skill and are willing have formed an impromptu security detail to better protect your safety."

"Why are the faculty convinced my life is in danger?" asked Arora.

The boy was silent for a moment and then said, "I am not fully aware of all the details, but it seems there have been hints whispered among the faculty that some are not happy with your presence here. Also, there was the attempt on your life at the concert, though few of the students are aware of it."

"I am not convinced that risking your life in this way is a good idea," said Arora.

"Who will protect you?" asked the boy in astonishment.

"I have protection enough with these two men and their associates," said Arora.

The boy looked at her angrily, "they say that you are married and it should be your husband's duty to protect you. Where is he in your hour of need? If I ever meet this disgraceful man I will have much to say to him."

Tristan smiled at the boy, "you have already met him, and you have also said more than you probably should."

"Who is he?" asked the startled boy.

"I am he," laughed Tristan, "but this must remain a secret between ourselves; it must not be known to the wrong people. I appreciate your dedication to my wife's safety, but I will not allow you to risk your life or hers by letting you guard her if I feel you lack skill with your blade."

"You will not allow?" asked the skeptical boy, "I am master of my own actions."

"Yes," said Tristan dangerously, "but I am in charge of my wife's safety and an inept guard is worse than no guard at all. You must prove to me that you are as skilled as you think you are before I allow you to ward her safety. The same will go for any student or professor who wishes to be part of her guard. If you wish to try your skill against mine, you may do so and then we will discuss this matter further."

The boy looked dejectedly at Arora, but she said, "you must bow to his decisions. I will not interfere in such matters. If you wish to go forward with your plan you must do as he says."

The boy looked pathetically around the room for a sympathetic face, but found none. He said, "it will be as you say it must. What do you propose?"

Tristan nodded approvingly and said, "meet me in the grove behind the University tomorrow around noon and we will see if there is skill to match your boast. Bring any other would-be protectors if you wish." Tristan and Raye retired to their quarters, Arora tried to return to sleep, and Tristan's replacement resumed his post.

The morning dawned cool and fair, a perfect day for a little swordplay. Tristan, Pallin, and one of the other Brethren assembled in the little clearing at the center of the grove behind the University complex. Around noon, a dozen young men and two professors wandered into the glade. Tristan, a little surprised at the number of people questioned Raye, "is everyone here for the same purpose?"

The boy smiled at his surprise, "yes, there is much interest in keeping the lady safe."

Tristan faced the gathered men, "you have all been briefed by Raye?" Nodding heads were seen throughout the gathering. "Very well," said Tristan, "anyone who wishes to participate in guarding the safety of Professor Arora will only do so under my authority. You must meet or exceed my expectations for martial skills, and must also obey any orders given by myself or my associates. Failure to comply with either requirement will result in exclusion from such duties. Any questions? This is a voluntary position and you may withdraw at any time, assuming it is not in the middle of one of your assigned watches."

No one had any questions, so the sparring began. Tristan faced off with Raye, as he was the one who had initiated the whole thing. The boy was far from a seasoned warrior, but he had quick feet and good reflexes. His technique was excellent and a little practice in the more rough and tumble methods of real world fighting would make him a challenging foe. As they sheathed their swords Tristan said, "very good. There are a few things I would like to work on with you, but your skill equals your boast." The boy grinned from ear to ear, he still was a little distrustful of the man, but Tristan's skill as a swordsman had earned his grudging respect. One down, thirteen to go. The three Brethren rotated between the remaining recruits. Two more students and one of the Professors were found to have enough skill with a blade that Tristan felt they would not pose a danger to others or themselves. The rest had little skill, but high ambitions. Reluctantly, Tristan agreed to work with the assembled recruits on their technique; for some it would mean learning which end of a sword was which!

The four men who had 'passed' Tristan's test would be paired up with one of the five Brethren and then would be allowed to stand watch with their new mentor. It might be annoying to have an accomplice that needed constant training and supervision, but having another set of eyes would be very helpful. It would also relieve some of the tedium that comes with constant vigilance and gave the students something to do besides absorbing useless information. Tristan scoured Dara, looking for used swords and weapons to use in his new training program. He acquired a dozen old blades that looked like they had last seen service in the Dragon Wars. He wrapped each blade in padding to partially protect his students from the consequences of an unintended blow.

He still occasionally protected Arora himself, but as his sword training became more popular and his confidence in the students' abilities grew, he took a more supervisory and teaching role and became less involved in the actual guard duty. Though weapons and violence were frowned upon by a majority of the Professors and many of the students, enough found an interest in such things that once word spread of Tristan's fencing classes soon he was overwhelmed with requests for instruction in the art of the sword. Arora, seeing an opportunity, took Tristan on as an 'associate professor' in her department, claiming that the sword was an integral part of Lore and Myth. She insisted that learning more about the warrior arts was vital for her students' comprehension of history, myth, and legend. As she was head of her department, no one could gainsay her. As the popularity of her classes and Tristan's grew, the complaining lessened significantly, except from those who were jealous of her success. It was felt that whatever was good for continued student growth, must be good for the University, even if one disagreed with the finer details of what was taught. It was one of the advantages of the University that it had no governing body save the voting members of the faculty; it was also its greatest weakness.

### Chapter 13

The weeks passed and no more attempts were made on Arora's life. Tristan began to wonder if they had somehow thwarted the Brotherhood's plans of 'disposing' of her in secret by making her such a prominent figure on campus that anything that happened to her could not be done quietly. However, this did not mean that the Brotherhood would not use other means to destroy her influence within the University. Vicious rumors began to circulate alleging many things about her background and curriculum, though no one could verify them and they often conflicted with each other. If anything, the controversy made Arora's classes even more popular. During her classes, she sang or played briefly some legend or history and then spent the balance of the hour discussing the events behind the song. So great was the demand for her talents, that she agreed to perform at least twice a month for any who wished to attend. In her lectures, she taught many histories, legends, and stories that raised eyebrows amongst her colleagues but she hoped opened the minds of her students. Many had questions and were ravenous for substance and Truth, both of which they found sorely lacking in their other classes. Many students asked if she could teach them to sing or play an instrument; she told them she could, but that was not her purpose at the University, nor did she have time for such pursuits. If they persisted, she said she could direct them to someone who could teach them, and several of them quietly set out for Astoria.

Over the following weeks, as the rumors continued unabated and each incarnation was worse than the last, several unexpected guests arrived on campus and sought out Arora. The Lady had been faithful to her word of sending other Teachers to the University to see if they could talk some sense into the student population. Arora gladly welcomed them into her department. Though they had not the musical skill with which she was gifted, they were equally knowledgeable (if not more so) in history, legends, lore, the Truth, and Common Law. She was overwhelmed by her teaching responsibilities and these newcomers were eager to help. Soon, their popularity and renown as instructors nearly matched her own. Their presence somewhat eased the crowding in her own lectures, but she still attracted a large following. The other Professors watched in astonishment as students flocked to lectures on what they deemed nonsense or fairy tales, while their own 'rational' class attendance dropped sharply. Many of them were not happy about the situation, but several took the time to sit in on a few lectures by these 'preposterous professors' and began to realize their own lectures were lacking something very important: relevance. The more sinister agents planted within the student body and faculty grew frustrated with the recent changes in University doctrine, but were overjoyed at the growing unrest amongst the more unpopular professors. They could no longer plot a quiet demise for the songstress, but they could get her thrown out in disgrace. Their new plot was to undermine her authority and have the whole department disbanded. They even had a valuable weapon on their side: the truth. They circulated a new rumor and this time it was disturbingly true.

After a full day of teaching, Arora had withdrawn to her rooms after supper hoping for some well-earned rest. It was not to be. A bang on the door brought her suddenly awake. She opened it carefully and there stood Raye demanding to be seen at once. "May I come in?" asked the red-faced youth.

"Of course," said she, "what ever is the matter?"

"Is it true?" demanded the boy once the door was securely closed.

"Is what true?" asked Arora patiently.

"The rumor," said the boy.

"Which one?" asked Arora bemusedly, "the rumor that I am actually a witch and have cast a spell upon all who listen to me or perhaps that I am married to an ogre who eats small children for breakfast or even that I am out to take over the University and turn it into an all-girl school."

"None of those," said the boy in frustration, "the rumor that you are one of those despicable Brethren."

Arora sat down suddenly on the bed, "and when did this rumor start?"

"I heard it at supper and made my way straight here to have it contradicted," said the boy desperately. "Is it true?" asked the boy pleadingly.

"And what if it is?" asked Arora, "what would that mean?"

"It would mean that you have lied to us all," said the boy.

"On what grounds?" asked Arora patiently.

"What do you mean?" asked the boy in confusion.

"Have I ever said I was or was not a member of the organization in question?" asked Arora.

"Not that I have heard," said the boy, "but what is your point?"

"If I have never said that I am not part of that organization then I have not lied to anyone," said Arora.

"But you deceived us," said the boy on the verge of tears.

"How?" asked she with compassion strong in her voice.

"Professors are supposed to be wise and knowledgeable and rational and free thinkers," said the boy, "not part of some group that turns people into unthinking entities that merely wish to replicate themselves by spreading their indoctrination."

"Have you noticed me indoctrinating anyone?" asked Arora simply, "are not students free to come and go as they please. Can they not voice their disagreements with me on a daily basis at the nightly debate or after class or come to my quarters and do as you have done with your concerns? You are in my classes day after day and yet I never hear you complain of shallowness of thought or smallness of mind. In fact, most of my students are surprised at actually having learned something worth knowing."

The boy cried openly now, "but Professor Grim says the Brethren are a horrible excuse for an organization and should be disbanded for the common good. Professor Brett says they plan to conquer the world and remake it in their own image. Many of my professors say such things. What am I to believe?"

"Believe what you have experienced," said Arora, "where did your Professors come by their information? Is it from experience or from rumors they heard in the marketplace? Why not ask them about the source of their information and see what kind of an answer you get. Otherwise, rely on your personal experience."

"What experience?" asked the boy, "I have never encountered any of these people except perhaps you, if you truly claim to be one of them. You never did directly answer my question."

She smiled at him and said, "of all the rumors about myself that I have yet heard, this is the only one with any truth in it. I am a member of the Brethren."

Instead of feeling anger as he thought he would at such a betrayal, if it could be called a betrayal, he only felt confusion. "Why am I not angry with you?" asked the boy.

She said, "because you are doubting your own suppositions about who the Brethren are and what they do. Once you based your opinion solely on your professors' prejudices, now you are recalling your experience with me and wondering who is right. Has my whole tenure as a Professor been one great act or are your professors simply misinformed or willfully ignorant? What have been your interactions and feelings towards Tristan, Pallin, and my other guards? How about the new teachers in my department? They share the same affiliation as I."

The boy looked at her in open disbelief, "all of you?"

She laughed, "yes all of us."

"But you have not tried to indoctrinate anyone," said the boy, "and you certainly do not seem the kind of people who plan to take over the world. You do not even seem all that mystical or mysterious or self-righteous; in fact you seem very...well...normal."

She laughed at his observations and said, "taking the Oath does not make one any less human. In fact it may make us more so by encouraging us to cultivate those qualities that set man apart from the irrational beasts."

"To the best of my knowledge I have violated no law or rule by becoming a Professor here," said she, "some of your professors may misunderstand the Brethren or disagree with their doctrine, but it was not brought up as a means of excluding someone from teaching here whom the faculty deemed worthy of such a position. I am sorry for the roundabout way in which you discovered my affiliations, but if you had asked I would have told you. But since you did not ask, I do not think you even thought it possible."

The boy grinned sheepishly, "I thought you the opposite of what one of these Brethren must be like. I greatly respect the other teachers in your department and also enjoy the company of several of the men in your guard. I am not particularly friendly with your husband but I respect him as a teacher and as a man of honor. I will go with my personal experience and not rely on the prejudice of others."

"That this rumor is circulating," said Arora, "tells me there are those amongst the faculty or students that work with or belong to the Brotherhood of the Serpent."

"The what?" asked the boy.

Arora said, "they are a vile group bent on spreading evil and chaos over the whole face of the world. They are the men behind the attempts on my life."

"Attempts?" asked the boy, "I thought there had only been one at the concert."

Arora looked at him grimly, "there was another that night. A dark man was waiting in my quarters when I returned. He threatened me with death if I did not leave immediately. I told him I would not be leaving and had to fight him off with a sword."

"You can use a sword?" asked the boy in astonishment.

"Yes," said Arora patiently, "perhaps not as well as Tristan, but it is a required skill for any who wish to travel abroad in the service of the Brethren. There are many dangers upon the road."

"Why do they want you dead or gone?" asked the boy.

"We believe they were involved in the founding of this place, if not in its daily functions," said Arora, "we believe their goal is to spread so much useless information about in the Eastern Realms that no one knows what to believe and nobody listens to anything anymore. The University has become very good at spreading such idiocy abroad. Their plan is working very well; you cannot get anyone to listen to a word you have to say in most of Syre and Arca. My presence here means students are becoming familiar with things that might actually be interesting or useful and this weakens their ability to remain ignorant of the nonsense they are learning from other instructors. By getting rid of me either physically or through disgrace, they have no competition and the students continue to blindly participate in their evil plot. That they have turned to rumors to try disgracing me is at least encouraging in the fact that perhaps the attempts on my life are at least temporarily on hold. That the rumors are spreading means that there is someone or several someones about to initiate them." The boy stared at Arora, dumbfounded. He had never even considered that he might be ignorantly caught up in such a plot.

"What can I do to help?" asked he.

She smiled, "I am glad you ask. I need someone who can discover where these rumors are coming from and also to inform me if they notice anything else odd about the University or its inhabitants. This mission will be far more dangerous than guarding me if you are discovered." The boy smiled in anticipation of the danger and agreed to report anything he could discover.

Arora summoned Tristan to her and discussed her recent discoveries. He agreed with her conclusions and also suggested that they discontinue constantly guarding her person and commit their resources to more vital tasks since her safety no longer seemed in imminent danger. She agreed and also suggested that putting the Brethren and the more reliable students from her guard on the trail of the rumor-mongers might yield some helpful information. As they finished their discussion, a knock came at the door. Arora answered it and found a student waiting with a sealed letter. She took it and thanked the boy. She broke the seal and opened the letter; Tristan read curiously over her shoulder. It was an official summons to stand before the assembled faculty on the following day; they would take a vote which would determine her future tenure at the University. She glanced at Tristan and he shook his head. It seemed someone was finally going to take some of the rumors seriously. They would both need their sleep to face the next day's trial, so Tristan bid her goodnight and both sought their beds. Before Tristan retired, he made his rounds of the other Brethren on campus and made sure they would be at the proceedings to defend Arora if necessary. The morning came far too early, but she would do what she must. She put on her best gown and concealed her sword about her person, just in case. She then went to face her accusers.

A great majority of the faculty was assembled on the lawn; the curious students stood at a distance, but were not allowed to join in the proceedings. The charges were that Arora was unfit to continue in her post as a Professor and department head; if a majority of the faculty voted against her she would be expelled from her position and barred from the University. She walked calmly to her appointed seat amidst the gathered faculty; her associate professors sat behind her in their assigned positions. She felt reassurance flow through her knowing Tristan was at her back. This would be nothing compared to some of the adventures she had lived through. "Professor Arora," said an ancient man acting as the moderator of the proceedings, "you are accused of many things, any one of which may qualify you for immediate expulsion from your current post. How do you plead?"

"I plead nothing, sir," said she, "until I know what the charges are against me."

The man smiled grimly, "of course, I will gladly inform those here gathered of the charges of which you stand accused. Many vicious rumors about you currently float about the campus, but most of these we hope are hearsay. The faculty has, however heard several charges that cannot be so easily dismissed and if true are most disturbing indeed. The charges with which we are most gravely concerned are these: you are accused of being married to a man of questionable character or possibly to no one at all, otherwise he would be made known to all and sundry. You are further accused of inciting a lust for violence amongst various of our students and may have been involved in the disappearance of a student called Geff some months ago. Finally, you are accused of being a member of a subversive and divisive group that calls themselves the Brethren and hopes to gain a foothold over the minds of our students. How plead you?"

Arora stood and made eye contact with as many of her fellow Professors as she could and smiled confidently. She began, "gentlemen of the University, I am honored to stand before you today. The charges laid at my feet are grave if true, but I hope to prove beyond a doubt that they are nothing but nonsense arising from the minds of malicious or bored individuals. The first accusation about my husband or lack thereof is understandable. One qualification for taking this post was that I quickly find myself a husband so as not to distract the wholly male population of this University. I then informed my interviewer that I was indeed already married, but have kept my husband's identity a secret to keep him from unnecessary irritation should he become more widely known. The reason for the secrecy was not to keep any infamous deeds of his from public knowledge but to spare him the unwanted attention. I am married to one of the most honorable and respectable men who currently walks the earth; many of you have even met him. Tristan, please stand forth." Tristan stood up briefly (as they had previously arranged should this situation arise) and bowed to the assembled faculty. A gasp of astonishment ran through the gathered crowd at this strange revelation. Tristan resumed his seat and smiled encouragingly at his wife.

She continued, "you must decide for yourselves whether my husband is as infamous as rumor holds him to be, but as you can see he does exist. The next charge, that I am inciting students to love violence rather than peace and am also personally involved in the disappearance of a student called Geff are preposterous. Yes, I have encouraged some of my students to take some basic fencing lessons, but only if they are truly interested. I am personally very fond of peace, but there comes a time when peace must be defended with a sword for there are always those who would prey upon the weak. I encourage my students to learn the sword only as a means of defending themselves and others from those who would take advantage of them. As for your accusation that Geff vanished whilst in my company I would argue otherwise. He has presently returned from his journey and would like to make it known that he is in fact safe and hopefully a little wiser. Geff please step forward."

Geff stepped forward out of the gathered students and bowed respectfully, "the lady speaks truly. Tristan nearly died saving my life some months ago, but for him I would not stand before you today. It would be a great shame to lose such a knowledgeable and caring Professor over such pithy fables." He bowed again and resumed his anonymity among the audience.

Arora resumed, "the final accusation, that I am a member of a divisive and seditious organization are utterly false. It is true that I am a member of the Brethren, however." She paused and let her declaration sink in; once the audience recovered from their shock she continued, "I know many of you hold very negative views of the Brethren, but I stand before you as a representative of the type of people we are. We are not out to conquer the world or spread misinformation or scare people into believing us. We simply speak the Truth and leave the decision to our hearers. We welcome any who wish to join our ranks, but do not look down upon those who remain unconvinced. Those of you with no personal experience with the Brethren, I ask to consider your interactions with me over the last few months and let that be a factor in determining your opinion of the organization as a whole, rather than letting the bias of a select few distort your view of me and my fellows. I rest my case." She resumed her seat.

The audience was dead silent for a moment and then the entire company erupted in a great uproar as everyone tried to talk at once. "Silence!" raged the old man, "silence please!" Eventually he managed to quiet the raucous audience. "Will the witnesses against the Professor please come forward and plead their cases or forever remain silent," roared the old man above the din.

Raye came forward first and said, "I was to stand forth and accuse the lady of associating with a man of questionable character, who was also incriminated in the disappearance of Geff, but Geff it seems has not actually disappeared and I have no reason to doubt either the lady's character or her husband's. They are very honorable people and I respect them greatly." He bowed and retreated into the audience. The old man looked a bit surprised but called the next witness forward. He went through half a dozen witnesses; people who had taken classes from Arora or Tristan or professors who had interacted with her. None could be found to testify against her character, though several disagreed with her material, no one doubted her sincerity.

Finally the old man said, "are there any more who would testify against the Professor?" No one stood forth. The man then said, "I hereby declare this case closed. It is now up to a vote of Professor Arora's peers to determine her fate. All in favor of dismissing her on the grounds of conduct unbefitting a Professor please stand up." A few individuals stood, but they were few and far between. Then he said, "all in favor of allowing her to continue in her present post, please do likewise." As if on cue, the whole assemblage seemed to stand as one. The old man said, "the vote is official and binding. Professor Arora will continue in her present position until further notice. I thank you for your time and cooperation. I declare these proceedings at an end."

"What!" screamed a man from the back, "how can that be your decision?"

The old man looked around vaguely for the source of the voice and said, "it is not my decision, it was the will of this assembly."

"She is obviously unfit for such a position!" said the angry voice, "I demand a revote."

The old man said, "a revote will require new evidence and a sixty day waiting period."

"Do not quote rules to me old man, I helped write them!" scowled the man who had finally worked his way through the gathered Professors and made his way to the front to confront the old man. "If there cannot be a revote then I demand a duel," said the stranger. The audience murmured in surprise.

"A duel?" said the old man skeptically, "on what grounds?"

"On the grounds that she is unfit to continue as she has," said the stranger.

"You have no cause for dueling over such a matter," said the old man, "it is not within your jurisdiction to do so and the rightful authorities have already decided the matter."

The stranger snarled at the unhelpful old man, "then I demand recompense for the injury I took during an unprovoked attack some months ago while trying to give this impetuous young woman some helpful advice."

"Is this true?" asked the old man of Arora.

She stood and faced the old man and her accuser, "if I am understanding him correctly, he does not consider breaking into my quarters and ambushing me with death threats worthy grounds for defending myself."

The old man stared at the stranger, "what have you to say to this?"

"I still demand a duel," said the stranger, "even if I have no legal grounds for it."

"I would not duel with you even if you did," said Arora, "you have no honor therefore a duel betwixt us would be pointless."

"I gave you a chance," snarled the stranger as he lunged forward with his sword drawn, but Arora was expecting something of the sort and had hers out and waiting to meet his first blow. "You are a nuisance and must be removed at all costs; secrecy and sabotage have failed so outright violence must do." As the pair swirled about in a lethal dance of flashing steel, several things happened at once. One of the Brethren sitting in the back of their assigned section screamed and fell clutching his ruined throat. The man seated next to him began to draw his sword in response but took the attacker's blade in the heart; with his last strength he drove his own sword into his foe's chest and the pair fell in a crumpled heap. Several more darkly clad men with swords leapt into the fray and the gathered Brethren scrambled to fend off their attack. The audience froze with fear and confusion as all about them swords flashed in the morning sun. Among the students, a ruckus erupted as a group of students armed with swords tried to join the battle, but Tristan had had the foresight to arm some of the more talented swordsmen amongst his students and they fell upon their peers with a vengeance. Somewhere in the middle distance an equid screamed in fury and a terrible snarling was heard over the din. Without warning, a small pack of lurkers made to fall upon the gathered crowd. But they had not come within reach of the crowd before nine unicorns fell among them and gave battle: hoof and horn against fang and claw.

It was a swirling maelstrom of death with all fighting for their lives. As the men of the Brotherhood fell, they lost mental control over their mounts and the beasts stopped dead and stared blankly into space, which made them an easy target for flashing hooves or swords. A few of the monsters were released from their bewitchment when the crystals upon their breast collars shattered; the disoriented beasts fled from the conflict only to be hunted down later. Almost as soon as it had begun, it was over. All the lurkers were dead, save one that had fled, but Pallin and his mount were in close pursuit. One of the unicorns had taken a fatal wound to the neck and had already faded upon death. Two of the Brethren had died almost immediately with the sneak attack that had initiated the conflict. Arora's opponent was down and gravely injured and laughed viciously as he took his own life.

The other five members of the Brotherhood lay dead, either from their wounds or by their own hand lest they be captured. One of the Brethren nursed a wounded shoulder, but his unicorn was happily drooling all over the wound to ward off any foul curses that might have accompanied the slash. Another lay on the ground futilely trying to keep his innards from creeping out of the gaping hole in his abdomen. His unicorn was the one that had fallen to the lurkers. The unicorns whose masters now lay dead came quietly towards the stricken man. One nuzzled up against him and inspected his wound; in the blink of an eye she took the wound upon herself and fell over dead, following her master into eternity. The now fully healed man stared in disbelief at his intact abdomen and looked mournfully at the fallen beast, which faded away even as he watched. The second of the two came slowly towards the now healed man. He flung his arms about the great neck and they found comfort in their shared grief. Five of Tristan's students had been armed, but two now lay dead. There had been three students ready to join in the fight on the side of the Brotherhood; all but one had been slain. The lone survivor had been disarmed and clutched his injured shoulder while his classmates held him at sword point. He glared daggers at all and sundry. Miraculously no one amongst the onlookers had been injured.

"What just happened?" asked the old man once he again found his voice.

"I believe that a group of very evil men has made their final, desperate attack against the University and truth," said Tristan, "I also believe they are the source of all the rumors pertaining to Arora. I hope now their influence upon this institution is at its end, and in that light I also hope the University can now reach the potential I know it has." He turned to the captured boy, "is this all of your associates?"

The boy sneered at him, "I will tell you nothing. You and your thrice cursed Master are a blight upon the face of the world and must be eradicated."

Tristan looked at the boy grimly and in a dangerous voice said, "I know you are not yet high enough in the circles of the Brotherhood to have attained such hate and malice, nor the power to end your life at will. This I also know, that you stand guilty of treason, if not murder and will be held accountable for every drop of blood spilt this day. There is no country or ruler that would deny that you deserve nothing short of death. But I offer you this small hope. Any information you can provide about these evil men and their plots may gain you some small shred of mercy when the deciding of your fate comes to pass. You are young and misguided, but I do not believe you have already sold your soul into slavery to such a terrible master. This is your last chance to avoid the fate that has already overtaken your friends."

He glanced solemnly at the fallen students and the boy's eyes followed. When next he looked into the boy's eyes, Tristan saw the hatred had been replaced by fear. The boy said, "I do not know much, they are a close bunch and never said more than we absolutely needed to know, but I will tell you what I can. I am not ready to die."

Tristan gently helped him to his feet, "you have made a wise decision. Let us see to your shoulder and then we will discuss your future." The boy nodded dejectedly and allowed himself to be led off to a more private place.

The boy's wound was cleaned and dressed and he was given a fresh tunic. Once he had been taken care of, Tristan faced him and asked, "what can you tell me of these men, their plots, and their involvement with you and the University?"

The boy swallowed nervously and said, "around the time Professor Arora appeared on campus, rumors started to circulate that there were some very powerful men seeking apprentices from amongst the student population. Several of us tracked those rumors to their source and discovered the man who called himself Gorge, the man who confronted your wife after the trial. He told us many things and hinted at more; he promised power and wealth beyond imagining for any who cared to follow in his footsteps. Most of my friends were too timid or skeptical to take him up on the offer, but three of us fell in with him and his followers. We did many things to assist in whatever plots or plans the dark men were trying to accomplish, which included spreading the rumors about your wife. We did not understand their full intent, but the lure of such power was intoxicating. We began to learn the art of the sword and other more arcane secrets and skills, though we had far to go before they would allow us into their inner circle. Today, we were told, might be our chance to prove our dedication and courage if the chance arose. It did arise, but it did not end as they had expected. I have counted six different men associated with the scheme; all of which now lie dead. I do not know what their plans were after today; I only know that they were desperate to rid the University of your wife and her influence. Apparently, at whatever cost to themselves or their plans. They hoped the trial would turn out differently, but they were forced to confront her directly when she was not expelled from her post. These men had a strange influence over the Professors with whom they spoke and could make them say almost anything they wished. When in the presence of these dark men, the professors would become somnolent and simply repeat whatever they were told. If that technique did not work, they were able to scare people into saying whatever they wanted said. In this way, they held sway over various professors, classes, and votes by the faculty. With the arrival of your wife, their influence was greatly hindered, as if her presence somehow warded off their evil manipulations. Her arrival also created a stir amongst the students and many began to reevaluate the gibberish we had once absorbed without question. We actually began to think for ourselves and wonder what was the actual point of all this nonsense. All of which seemed to anger our dark overseers and they grew more frustrated and desperate with each passing day, until finally they misjudged the situation and it led to their downfall. The only other tidbit of information I know about is that Gorge planned to ride into the uttermost East tonight to meet with someone very important."

Tristan looked seriously at the boy, "your information has been very helpful and it will weigh heavily in what course your future takes. Your future will also depend partly upon your decision to continue pursuing this evil course or to turn from your mistakes and seek again the good and the true. While your information cannot bring back the dead, it can perhaps make some progress in righting some of the wrongs you have helped perpetrate. I will leave you in the hands of my colleagues and the University and when I return we will discuss your future further. Farewell." Tristan rose and went in search of his comrades and most importantly his wife. He found her weeping at the freshly dug graves for the two fallen Brethren and the four dead students. The agents of the Brotherhood had dissolved into oily puddles upon death. He put his arm around her and drew her to him. He allowed her to weep as long as she needed and once her sobs had faded to sniffles, he said, "I must ride east tonight. I will take Pallin and his three associates with me. I am sorry to leave you so short handed with your teaching staff, but the boy has revealed some vital information and I must act upon it immediately."

"Come back to me," was all she said as she buried her face in his arms and wept once more.

When she had finished crying he continued, "I am leaving the boy in your care. I think there is hope for him, but he will need to be watched. I also think a good dose of your lectures and music will do him (and us all) a great deal of good. Why not perform tonight and let the whole University start to heal from this disaster?" She nodded and he held her quietly for some time. Eventually, Pallin and his three associates worked up the nerve to interrupt the pair.

Pallin cleared his throat loudly and said, "we are riding east tonight?"

Tristan nodded, "the General is expecting a visit from his henchmen and I intend to pay him my respects in lieu of his dead servant. I will need your help to get into the castle. None of us may walk away from this one."

The others nodded unconcernedly; they knew the risks when they took their Oaths and all of them were willing to face a hopeless situation if it was deemed necessary. "We should bring some of the more skilled students," said Pallin.

Tristan looked at him in surprise, "really?"

Pallin smiled, "we will need more swords than just the five we have. Some of them are looking for a way to help rectify today's events and would be more than happy to walk into danger with us."

Tristan nodded grimly, "make sure they are fully aware of the risks and no one is to come who does not know he may be facing certain death." Pallin saluted and ran off to round up some reinforcements. Tristan spent the balance of the day comforting his wife.

### Chapter 14

As evening gathered, most of the University population was assembled on the lawn listening to Arora's sad, but hopeful music that healed hearts as well as soothed shaken nerves. Tristan had bid his wife a warm farewell and both knew he might not be coming home this time, but neither despaired as their parting would only be temporary, come what may. The five Brethren were already mounted and waiting for the three students who had agreed to accompany them. Raye was their unofficial leader; he looked quite at home in the saddle. His two friends looked a little awkward, but did not seem in imminent danger of falling off. Once everyone was mounted, they headed East with all speed. They rode hard and only stopped for brief periods to rest until they reached their destination. A chill ran through Tristan's spine as he surveyed the castle that he never wished to see again. They had made good time and spent the balance of the day resting in the woods a mile or two from the fortress. As evening came, Tristan approached the gate alone. The rest remained hidden in the woods, hoping for some sign as to their next move.

Tristan was clad all in black and had his hood pulled up, obscuring his face; Taragon took the guise of a black horse. He let Taragon walk ominously towards the gate and then stopped and said in his most sinister voice, "open immediately."

"Who goes?" asked an eerily familiar voice; it would have to be Prat guarding the gate.

"The General is expecting Gorge is he not? I have vital information for him," snarled Tristan.

"You are expected," said the man, "but..."

"No buts!" roared Tristan, "you will open this gate now or I will have your head as a doorstop. I am not to be hindered by the likes of you." The man was visibly shaken and complied immediately. Tristan rode into the courtyard and dismounted. Tristan pulled Prat aside as if to speak with him privately. He lowered his hood and placed a hand over Prat's mouth to muffle his scream of terror.

"You...you...are dead," whispered the man in horror.

"And if you do not wish to join me," said Tristan, "you will do as I say." The man nodded helplessly. "Is there another way into the castle besides the main gate?" asked Tristan fiendishly.

The man nodded and said, "there is a back gate."

Tristan smiled dangerously and said, "you will unlock it and call the watch on that part of the wall down for new orders, unless you would rather find out what lies on the other side of death." The man blanched white and immediately did as he was told. As he scrambled in the direction of the back gate, Tristan followed sedately and pictured the gate in his mind for Taragon. Taragon passed the image on to his fellow unicorns and the unicorns to their riders. They knew what to do. Prat unlocked the gate and then shouted up to the watchmen upon the walls that there had been a change in plans and ordered them down. They came curiously and they withdrew to the stable for a private conference. Tristan easily rendered them unconscious, disarmed them, and secured them in an empty stall. He and Prat then donned their gear and headed for the back wall. By now, Tristan's men were quietly filing in the back gate. Tristan and the hopeless Prat walked along the battlements and approached the unsuspecting watchmen on the adjoining side. Once Tristan was sure his men were in and scaling the opposite wall, he took down the curious guards and headed for the front wall. By now, some of the guards began to grow suspicious, but Tristan's men moved quickly and with Prat's help all were soon captured. The sleeping men and the servants were also secured.

At this point Tristan asked, "where is the General?"

The morose Prat said, "he rode away this morning with two of his minions to resume his former post."

"Are you telling me that there are no members of the Brotherhood of the Serpent in this forsaken rock heap?" asked Tristan.

"You have captured an empty shell," said Pratt.

"You are not amongst their number?" asked Tristan.

"My men and I are merely mercenaries and the servants are honest men, as far as I know," said Pratt, "we just do this because it pays well."

Tristan shook his head in disgust, "very well. You and your men may go free after I have spoken with them; would any of them know anything about the Brotherhood or the General?"

"No more than I," said the man, "you are not too bad for a ghost."

Tristan smiled grimly, "I am no ghost my friend, though perhaps I appeared dead for a time, I am quite alive." Tristan and the much relieved Prat made their rounds of the soldiers and servants within the castle, but no one had any more information that Tristan could use. But perhaps they could use the musty old castle to their advantage. As none of the current residents was apparently guilty of anything beyond a poor choice of employer, Tristan allowed any to leave who would. The rest were allowed to stay only if they agreed to obey his orders without question. He seemed a much more agreeable master than the General so no one found this a disagreeable change. Tristan's men took turns sleeping and supervising their new abode, just in case someone decided to betray their new masters.

Tristan's plan was simple: he would use the castle to trap any messengers of the Brotherhood that had not heard of the General's change in address. Over the next few weeks they might actually capture a wayward messenger until the General's new location became more widely known to his minions. They settled in to wait. To pass the time, Tristan drilled the students (and any interested mercenaries and servants) in sword fighting techniques. Otherwise, life continued on as normal for the inhabitants of the castle. One night, as Tristan sat discussing some historic battle with an eager Raye, Prat entered the kitchen. He and Brom had been on patrol and between them they dragged an unconscious man. Prat said, "we found him sneaking about the place and thought you might like to talk to him."

Tristan smiled at the pair ironically, "thank you, I would. You did not kill him this time?" The pair laughed as they bowed themselves out of the room. The man lay in an unconscious heap, facedown on the floor. Slowly he began to stir and then groaned as he sat up. Tristan's hopes of having finally apprehended some link to the mysterious General died aborning.

"Tristan!" gasped the now conscious man, "what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," said Tristan smiling, "I am sorry for the inconvenient manner of our meeting. But what are you doing sneaking about this stagnant rock heap?"

Trap shakily took a chair and said, "the Lady sent me and several others to keep an eye on this place. A week ago we saw the head honcho ride off with two of his henchmen in tow. Then we saw a dark stranger come in through the front and another party come in the back. We did not hear much to suggest a skirmish so we thought it was just business as usual. Word has just come down that things are moving faster than we thought and the Lady has ordered us to capture the castle if we can and find out if anyone here knows anything."

"When are you supposed to strike?" asked Tristan in dismay.

Trap catching his meaning said, "any time now."

Tristan barked at the stupefied Raye, "call everyone off the walls, now!" The boy ran from the room as fast as he could and started shouting orders.

Prat and Pallin barged into the kitchen demanding to know what was going on. Tristan said, "we are about to be invaded. You are to allow the invaders to enter without resistance. That is an order." Pallin took one glance at Trap and understood.

Prat stared in disbelief, "who is this guy?"

"An old friend," smiled Tristan, "and we are apparently going to have a few more dropping by. I hope you set out extra places for dinner." They all went into the courtyard and waited. The bewildered watchmen had pulled back from the walls and watched with dismay as several grappling hooks came up over the battlements and several dark figures were soon upon the walls. The confused invaders wondered why no alarm was raised and why the watchmen just stared at them glumly instead of resisting.

"Why do you just stand there and stare at me stupidly?" asked a confused voice, "what manner of place is this?"

"I have my orders sir," said the guard.

"I see," said the voice, though from the tone he clearly did not. "

Put away your weapons," said Tristan, "no one will harm you."

"Under what authority do you give me orders?" asked the invader.

"As the current master of this castle and also as your Brother in arms," said Tristan laughing. He continued, "Turin put that thing away before someone gets hurt."

"Tristan?" said Turin, now more confused than ever, "what is going on here?"

"Tell your men to stand down and I will explain," said Tristan, "Prat you may order your men to resume their regular duties. These 'invaders' are to be counted as guests." The confused man bowed and went about reordering his men. Turin and his eight companions joined Tristan and Trap in the courtyard. They knew Trap had been captured and were overjoyed to see him safe again. They retreated to the kitchens and the servants found enough food and drink to satisfy the ravenous invaders.

"What exactly are you doing sitting in this rotten fortress like some miserly spider in a cave?" asked Turin once he and his men were settled.

"Trap mentioned you saw a shadowy figure come in through the front gate a week past," said Tristan. Turin nodded. Tristan smiled, "that was me."

Turin nearly choked on his bread, "what?"

Tristan laughed, "we had a reliable source at the University that said one of the General's henchmen was expected here so I took his place and snuck in in his stead. My men were the group you saw coming in the back. We captured the fortress without spilling any blood. Of course the General had ridden off before we got here and left nothing but mercenaries and servants to watch his property until he returns. I had hoped to capture any unwary messengers coming to speak with the General, but all I have managed to do is be invaded by my own colleagues. By now I think even the most remote of the General's servants must know he has relocated to Panmycea and resumed his seat on the High Council of the Order of the Unicorn."

"Lovely," said Turin, "but what are we to do now? You have already discovered that there is nothing useful here and any messengers of this General are unlikely to venture forth hereafter. We cannot man this rock pile on the edge of forever as it has no value whatsoever except as a nice place to hide from one's enemies, yet I do not wish to abandon it for fear that one day it will again be held against us. The Lady ordered us to take it, believing that there might be something of value hidden inside. Word has reached us that any member of the Order that has trained in Astoria is to immediately resign his commission and all Knights of the Order who are studying at the University have been recalled. We fear there is a major shift coming in how the Order functions, especially if this evil General is being recalled to serve on its governing body."

"This is grave news indeed," said Tristan, "what of Karly? It was he who took the General's seat on the council after his flight and it was he who supported an alliance between the Order and the Brethren."

"I do not know," said Turin, "but I am sure the Lady will not abandon so faithful an ally."

"I do have an idea for this pile of rocks," said Tristan changing the subject slightly, "why not donate it to the University?"

Turin looked at him as if he had lost his mind but said, "what?"

"There have been a few changes in the way the University operates," said Tristan and he briefly recounted his recent adventures in academia.

"Now that you put it that way, I see your point," said Turin enthusiastically.

As they sat talking, Prat barged in and said, "sir, I fear we have an uninvited guest, another uninvited guest. He approaches the gate as we speak." Tristan exchanged curious looks with those gathered in the kitchen and they sprang into action.

### Chapter 15

A lone horseman approached the gate at an ominous walk, eerily similar to the events of a week ago. "Who goes?" barked the guard at the gate.

"One who has come to see your master," hissed the horseman, "open up you putrid swine before you regret it."

"Yes, sir," whimpered the guard as he opened the gates. The stranger walked his horse into the central courtyard and dismounted. A servant ran up immediately to take the man's reins.

"Where is your master?" hissed the man. The terrified servant pointed nervously towards the door into the kitchens. The man strode importantly towards the indicated door. The kitchen door banged open and the stranger entered the room. He saw only Tristan, sitting with his booted feet upon the table in front of the fire sharpening his sword. "May I help you?" he nonchalantly asked.

The man quickly recovered from his surprise and snarled, "where is the General?"

"He is not here right now, can I take a message?" asked Tristan merrily.

"Where is he you useless oaf?" growled the man.

Tristan smiled sweetly and continued to hone his blade, "he has returned to Panmycea to resume his former post amongst the Order."

"Panmycea!" choked the man, "I do not have time for such a journey, you must send a messenger."

"I will see if I can spare anyone," said Tristan thoughtlessly, "I am sure we can get your message there within a month or two."

"A month or two?" snarled the man, "have you any idea who you are trifling with?"

"Since you failed to introduce yourself," said Tristan, "I have no idea."

The man quivered with rage and said, "you will send this message tonight or I will have your head, I would have it on general principle but I am in a hurry."

"I like my head where it is thank you," said Tristan, "but when I am done with it I am sure you can have it."

"Silence minion!" shouted the man, "here is the message you will send to your master. Take careful notes and seal the letter."

Tristan slowly put his sword away and took up pen and paper. The man shook with ill-contained anger as he waited for Tristan to ready himself. "I am ready," said Tristan politely.

"Thank you so very much," snapped the man, "now start writing. Dear sir, a terrible tragedy has befallen our agents at the University and it is feared none are now alive to see that our plans are carried out. In this light, it is no surprise that the University has taken things in their own twisted direction and have fallen under the influence of the Brethren. They are very interested in teaching 'useful' things and other such nonsense. They have also recalled all of their students from their Journeys and will not allow anyone to go abroad who is not well versed in something of value to the common folk. Instead of sending students on a 'teaching journey' they now encourage them to go out and expand their knowledge by studying under a master in a given field or by conducting a research project to further what is known about a particular subject. As could be guessed, this has had a disastrous effect on our efforts to inundate the commoners with nonsense and gibberish. Without students blathering in their ears constantly, the peasants are slowly opening up to other sources of information, most distressingly the Brethren. I will go forth and try to salvage what I can, but will await further orders. You will know how to contact me. Sincerely, Nevis. End the letter. See that this is sent immediately to your master."

"As you wish," said Tristan gaily.

"This is no laughing matter," said the man, "your master will be very disappointed when he discovers how his steward runs things in his absence." The man stormed out into the night and rode off into the darkness, nearly running down the startled gatekeeper.

Trap, Turin and the others crowded out of the larder where they had been hiding. It had been a very crowded hiding place, but they had heard all the stranger had had to say. "What do you think?" asked Tristan of the others.

"I think we have nearly succeeded in driving the promulgators of confusion from the East," smiled Turin, "now what?"

"We had best inform the Lady," said Tristan. Tristan lost no time in mounting up and riding West towards Astoria. While he could have sent someone else, he was growing weary with nothing to do in the castle all day but train students, so the journey was a welcome change. He also sent a rider towards Dara with an update for Arora; he also sent a small group of the more learned in lore among the Brethren at the castle to reinforce Arora's bare bones teaching staff. The rest would wait at the castle for further instruction under Pallin's command. The stranger had turned off the road heading West just out of sight of the castle hoping to verify that his message was indeed sent out tonight. He was pleased to see a rider setting out soon after his departure, but there was still something about the whole thing that he did not like. With nothing more pressing to do, he decided to follow the messenger just to make sure his message reached the appropriate destination. While he could try and salvage what little remained of their grand scheme, nothing could really save it and if there was treachery in the works the General must know of it. The rider moved swiftly, almost to the point of recklessness. At this pace, he would kill his horse far before they reached Panmycea. This would never do; he appreciated the haste, but if the messenger's horse succumbed to exhaustion his letter would never reach the General. Besides, at such a pace his own horse would soon wear out. If the fool meant to be careless, there was only one thing for Nevis to do. He reached out with his mind and found the unthinking void that was his lurker's mind and bid the creature follow as fast as it could. The beasts had little enough mind when not enslaved to the Brotherhood; once so bewitched they had almost none at all. But they were not favored as mounts because of their wits; they could outrun and outlast any other creature that went about on legs save a unicorn.

Nevis's horse was showing signs of exhaustion when the creature finally caught up to them. He dismounted and left the worn animal to its own devices. It would have fled from the monster had it not been on the verge of collapse. How the messenger's horse could continue at such a pace was truly a mystery. Finally, the cursed man stopped for a rest, but he was on the road again far sooner than any sensible traveler ought to be. It was an exhausting chase and it soon became clear that the rider was heading North and West instead of angling south as he should if he wished to reach Panmycea. There was treachery among the General's servants it seemed. Nevis had no choice but to follow the messenger to his final destination and try to discover his true allegiances. But a desperate thought was trying to make itself known though he did his best to drive it away. The further they went, the more apparent it became. He had given his report into the hands of the Brethren. It was the only way the man could possibly maintain such a speed over such a distance. It was also the only civilized country on the road they were taking. Finally, after a relentless chase they finally arrived at the destination Nevis's worst dreams had anticipated. The man rode directly into the castle in the middle of the bustling city of Astoria. The guards took one look at the man and let him pass; Nevis could not continue on into the city on his beast without causing a panic. If he continued on foot, the man would easily be out of reach before Nevis could stop him.

He had no choice; perhaps he could learn something of the Brotherhood's greatest enemy while he was here. He put the monster into an enchanted sleep and hid him as best he could and then headed towards the main gate leading into the city. As he approached the gate one of the guards halted him, "what business have you in Astoria?"

Nevis put on his best oily smile and said, "I have traveled from the distant East on urgent business to your city."

"He tells the truth," whispered the other guard to his comrade.

The man whispered back, "I know, but there is something about him I do not like. He practically reeks of evil." Just his luck, the guards had to be numbered among the Brethren. It was said they could sense the presence of one sworn to the Brotherhood and also discern a lie from truth. He hoped that hearsay was wrong. "What manner of business brings you hence?" asked the guard.

"A message I sent has gone astray and I have come to see that it does not reach the wrong ears," said Nevis.

"You tell the truth stranger, but I do not like the feel of you," said the guard, "I cannot let you pass until I have consulted my superiors on this matter." For a moment he thought to reach for his sword and force his way in, but both men were eyeing him suspiciously. He might take one of them down, but he would die in the process. He wisely chose to wait while the guard sent a servant running towards the fortress.

Meanwhile, Tristan had reached the courtyard of the castle and dismounted. He went immediately to find the Lady. She could not be seen immediately as she was in an important meeting with some dignitary or other. He sat outside the room and waited. A very short man bowed as he left the room. Tristan jumped as he looked upon the man; if he did not know better he would swear it was one of the woodland folk from the Northern Wilds, but he doubted they would venture so far from their homes. A servant emerged from the room and beckoned Tristan to come in. He bowed to the Lady and she nodded courteously. "Why must you always come to me looking like a vagabond?" she asked lightly, "I know necessity makes bathing impractical, but it is nice to be greeted by visitors who do not smell like a sweaty horse. What news brings you so far so swiftly?"

He related his news to her and then gave her the letter dictated by Nevis. "It is good to know our plans in the East have finally begun to bear fruit," said she, "I am glad we have captured the castle, but it is distressing to know it was in vain. It is troubling to know that the Order is once again under the sway of evil, and this time voluntarily. Something must be done about them before they return to their previous ways or become far worse. We have had many of the Brethren within the Order riding back after their untimely discharge from the Order's service. I am also expecting Ex-councilor Karly at any time. He was booted off the High Council and fled just ahead of the men sent to arrest him. Our agents have helped greatly in his escape; what will arise from this action I know not. I have also had disturbing news from the Northern Wilds. It seems that there are many strangers abroad and that evil things are stirring. I fear war may be brewing and I cannot point a finger at any specific enemy. Where stealth and manipulation have failed, I think the enemy is finally going to move openly against us. We must be ready. I am alerting all of our agents in the field to keep their eyes and ears open and we will be recalling many of them and redeploying them to the areas where they will be the most useful should such a conflict arise. The Brethren have not ridden openly to war in a millennium, but I fear there will be no stopping it if things continue as they are. But that is neither here nor there, I am glad to hear the University is finally coming around. I will send some Teachers to assist Arora in her efforts there. I will recall the Brethren stationed at this castle of yours immediately. I have need of them elsewhere. As far as what to do with the thing, I think your idea of handing it over to the University is best. I have no wish to waste resources defending such an inconvenient location, yet letting it fall back into enemy hands is out of the question. What a hassle over such a hopeless ruin!"

As she finished there came a knock at the door and a servant popped his head in. He said, "My Lady, there is a questionable man at the gate and the guard asks what to do about him. He says the man 'reeks of evil.' They await your counsel."

She turned to Tristan, "any idea who this might be?"

He said, "I wonder if it is not the author of my letter. Taragon thought he smelled some stench of the evil beasts the Brotherhood uses on a couple of occasions during our ride, but we never took the time to investigate. He may have followed us."

The Lady smiled to herself, "send four of our best Warriors down to escort him to me. We will see what he wants." The servant looked at her in dismay but bowed and went to pass along her orders. Tristan looked at her in shock, what was she up to?

Four Warriors in full armor walked down to the main gate. Their leader said to the waiting Nevis, "the Lady of Astoria wishes to hear your case. If you wish, we will escort you to her but you must leave your weapons in the guard house." Nevis nearly jumped with surprise. The Lady wanted to see him? He wondered what trickery she was up to, but it was an opportunity not to be missed. To the best of his knowledge, no one in the Brotherhood's history had ever gotten anywhere near the leader of the Brethren. He stripped himself of all his weapons save a dagger hidden in the top of his boot, but the guard asked if that was everything and when he said it was, the guard glared at him dangerously until he removed the hidden knife and placed it with the rest of his gear. So much for ulterior motives. He entered the gates and the four guards formed up around him and escorted him through the city and into the castle. They brought him to a small room that was dark save for the cheerful fire burning on the hearth. Before the fireplace sat a table, upon which rested some familiar feet, which belonged to a man sharpening a familiar sword.

"You?" squawked the confused man, "I thought I was to see this Lady of yours."

"You will," said Tristan patiently, "but first I must let you know she greatly appreciated your letter. It was very thoughtful of you." As this exchange took place, the curtains were drawn back and sunlight filled the room. Nevis turned from his annoying adversary and faced the woman he had come to see. An absolutely ancient woman sat in a chair by the window, apparently uninterested in him or her insubordinate agent.

"You have sent a most informative letter young man," said she, "and I thank you for your pains. I am sorry if it will cause any trouble on your part. I am sure your masters would not approve of you sending such a message to their enemies."

Nevis spluttered in agitation, "I did not direct that letter here. That man brought it here against my will."

Tristan broke in, "you said to take it to my 'masters' and she would be my master so I have simply done as I was told." The man fumed silently, there really was no way around such an argument.

"What do you want of me?" demanded Nevis.

"We demand nothing of you," said the Lady, "I wish only to offer you our protection should you find returning to your masters too dangerous after such a gaffe."

"Your protection!" shouted the man, "what kind of an offer is that?"

"Simple," said the Lady, "I assume your life will be forfeit when it is discovered what has happened, hence I offer you my protection. Of course you will have to revoke any oaths you have sworn to the Evil One." The man was nearly shaking with rage; the woman had the audacity to make demands of him that no sane person would even suggest in his presence.

"Am I your prisoner?" asked the man trying in vain to remain calm.

"I have no knowledge of your wrongdoings though I am sure they are many," said the Lady, "and I offered you something of an amnesty in allowing you into my presence. You are not my prisoner and may leave if you wish. Though if any of my agents happens upon you in the future, this amnesty will hold no sway over their actions and I cannot promise that things will turn out well for you." The Lady stood and made her way to the door and as she walked past him, Nevis seemed to flinch in pain. He had never felt such awe or reverence for anyone. Even his own masters only inspired fear. Something in her presence demanded the respect she was due; here was true power, though none of her own doing. Tristan stood and bowed as the Lady passed by on her way to the door. Before she left she said, "you will be given a room where you may think on my words. If you have come to no decision by morning, you will be escorted from the city. Otherwise you may leave whenever you like prior to the deadline. Goodnight." The door closed quietly behind her and he was left alone in the room with Tristan.

Nevis turned towards the annoying man, "what exactly is going on here?"

Tristan smiled and said, "the Lady has said exactly what she means. You have until dawn to revoke your oaths to your sinister masters and then you will be given her protection. Otherwise you will be asked to leave in the morning and left to face whatever fate will befall you." "

Why do you care what happens to me?" asked the man curiously, "I am your enemy."

Tristan smiled, "true, you and I are currently on opposite sides of an ancient war that neither of us started, but you are still one of the Master's children and therefore I am still prone to care about your welfare, physical and otherwise. It was my doing that you are in this mess and it is only fair that we offer you a way out."

"If you care so much about me and my kind, why do you destroy us every chance you get?" asked the skeptical Nevis.

Tristan said, "I would love the opportunity to give every one of your sinister brothers the chance we are giving you, but you know as well as I that there is little time for idle talk amongst warring factions. If your people would sit down for a peaceful chat, I would be happy to discuss these things with them, but as it is, we more often meet for battle than for negotiation. I fight to defend the innocent lives you seek to destroy. If you did not force my hand, I would not be so determined to kill in order to save my own and other lives."

"You really mean all this!" said Nevis, "I have much to think on. Lead me to my quarters." Tristan opened the door and nodded to one of the waiting guards who joined him in escorting their guest to his quarters. The other three guards followed at a distance.

When they reached their destination Tristan said, "these gentlemen will be waiting outside your door to answer any of your questions or to escort you out of town if you wish to leave. I bid you goodnight." He left the confused Nevis in the care of the four Warriors.

Once he was alone, Nevis sat on the bed deep in thought. This little errand had most definitely not turned out the way he had planned. These Brethren were completely different than he had been expecting. They were his sworn enemies, yet for the most part they treated him with more respect than he received even amongst his own brothers. The Lady was quite impressive in and of herself; he had never seen such grace, power, and wisdom gathered all in one person. There was a peace and a power about her that he envied. There was none of the terror and greed that filled his own masters and colleagues. Here, there seemed to be a determined sort of cooperation and companionability whereas amongst the Brotherhood there was a continual striving against one another. He almost envied them. The darker side of life had always fascinated him, especially when he discovered that it could be used as a path to greater power and influence. He had always thought those who strove for the rights of the weak and oppressed were pathetic and feeble, but here he discovered that it took a special sort of strength to fight back your own desires and work for the good of others no matter the cost to oneself. He was also amazed to learn that while he was an enemy to these people, he was still considered a valuable person even with all the evil he had done. It gave him much to think about.

Sometime in the small hours of the morning, Nevis peaked his head out the door and looked up into the eyes of his watchful sentries. "I wish to speak with the man who was here earlier," said he. One of the four nodded and headed off at a trot. Nevis smiled at the thought of rousing Tristan from his bed after such a long ride.

A bleary eyed Tristan soon came walking towards Nevis's chambers behind the sentry. "Yes?" said Tristan as he yawned.

Nevis grinned, "I just had a few questions. Will you come in?" Tristan nodded and motioned for the guard to remain outside. He sat in a handy chair while Nevis took the bed.

"What can I do for you?" asked Tristan now a bit more awake.

"I have been thinking much on this strange little association of yours," said Nevis, "but one thing still bothers me. What has become of the traitor to the Brotherhood known as Trap?"

Tristan eyed him skeptically, "why are you asking?"

"It is not widely known amongst ourselves what becomes of a man who revokes his oaths," said Nevis, "I want to know what I am in for should I decide to do likewise."

"Perhaps I am taking a risk, but consider it an exercise in trust," said Tristan, "Trap was captured in Arca some months ago after losing a fight with myself and another of the Brethren. He was on the verge of taking his own life when I questioned his fate after death. He laughed me to scorn, but something must have changed in his mind because he did not allow himself to die as so many of your colleagues do. Over time he gradually came to the realization that nothing worthwhile could come of his relationship to your evil masters and he revoked his oaths. He was a broken and lost man after that, mostly because everything he had ever believed in life had been a lie. Gradually he found some meaning and direction in life again. When he was well enough to travel, he was escorted to Astoria under guard and stood before the Lady on charges of murdering three of the Brethren, amongst other things. His life was justly forfeit the minute he surrendered to us and he knew it. He had found peace with himself and was willing to face the certain death he knew was coming, but the Lady offered him a choice. His life was no longer his own and he could choose to end it immediately via a swift execution or he could dedicate it to something larger than himself and serve others for a change. He chose to dedicate his life to the Master's service and was thus spared from execution, but he may yet meet death as a result of his choices. You are under no such stricture. We will not execute you if you refuse to join us. All we ask is that you no longer serve evil."

Nevis stared at Tristan in disbelief, "you threatened Trap with death unless he took your Oath?"

Tristan shook his head, "the Oath is not something that can be forced. It was offered as an option, but it could not be taken unless it was something he truly wanted with all his heart."

"You have said enough," said Nevis, "I will continue to think upon this and you will have my answer in the morning." Tristan bid him goodnight and left the room. Nevis sat long in the darkness thinking over his past and his future.

Just after dawn there came a knock at the door. Tristan slowly opened the door and closed it behind him. Nevis sat upon the bed with a grim smile upon his face, "I have come to a decision. While this has been a fascinating study in the ways of your people and my masters will be happy to know about the fate of the traitor, I must tell you that I cannot take you up on your offer. I am not seeking sanctuary, nor do I regret joining the Brotherhood. My only regret is being so foolish as to entrust my message to you without enquiring further into happenings at the castle in the General's absence. I must go back and face whatever penalty my foolishness has earned. I have, however gained a new respect for the Brethren and perhaps someday we can meet if not as friends, at least not as enemies. Perhaps we can come to a mutual understanding."

Tristan shook his head, "there can be no 'mutual understanding' as long as you serve evil willingly. There is only right and wrong, there is no middle ground. There is only the Truth or chaos. Your decision saddens me, but it is yours to make and we will keep our word. These gentlemen will escort you to the border and you may go as you wish from there. I hope one day you will find the chance to change your mind, but the decision is yours and I will hinder you no longer, farewell."

Nevis was soon escorted from the room and out into the countryside. As he left, he stared back in wonder at the strange folk he had left behind and wondered again at what course his own future might take. He rode hard for Panmycea. The Lady and Tristan watched him go from an upper window. "I did not think he would take our offer," said the Lady.

"Do you think it was wise allowing him to see and hear so much of our business, especially Trap?" asked Tristan.

"I do not think any great harm will come of it and greatly hope that in the end it may prove a fruitful endeavor," said the Lady. As they were turning from the window, a large mounted party came riding out of the woods along the road. The Lady sent Tristan down to greet their visitors.

At the main gate to the city, the party was stopped by the guards. Tristan soon arrived out of breath. It was as the Lady had thought, Karly had come at last. Tristan bowed formally to Karly and his party and signaled for them to ride forward. As they wound their way through the crowded streets, Tristan easily kept apace of the horses. "It is good to see you sir," said Tristan, "I only wish it were under happier circumstances."

Karly looked down at his former officer, "perhaps it was a day that should have come sooner. I only wish the more honorable days of the Order had not been so short lived. I am not too saddened to be leaving, especially with the recent changes to the Order. It is just hard to change the course of one's life so abruptly, especially after so many years of dedicated service."

The Lady herself met the party as it rode into the courtyard of the castle. "Welcome Karly," said the Lady, "it is good to see you once more. My sympathies for your recent loss and close call."

He bowed from his saddle and said, "if not for you and your men, I would have no escape at all. I must speak with you directly." She motioned for him to walk beside her.

Tristan and Karly's escort followed. Once they reached the privacy of the Lady's favorite audience chamber, everyone found seats and Karly began, "it will be no surprise to you that General Vrill, a suspected member of the Brotherhood, has returned to Panmycea at the invitation of the High Council and has resumed his former post on said Council. All members of the Order who trained in Astoria or had amiable relations with the Brethren were summarily dismissed from the Order. Through this process many of the more honorable men amongst us were removed from the Order, leaving only the troublemakers and men of more dubious character. This being said, the conditions were ripe for what happened next. Shortly before my expulsion from the Council, a measure was being discussed to change both the name and mission of the Order. After recent happenings, I do not doubt it will pass."

"What is it?" asked the Lady.

"The new name is to be The Legion of the Serpent," said Karly, "and their mission is to conquer the known world for their new namesake. At first I thought it a joke, but then some very questionable things started to happen and as things progressed I knew it was only a matter of time. War is coming My Lady, and I have come to offer what help I can. Many of the Order have already sworn allegiance to you and once removed from their former posts have found shelter amongst the Brethren, but there are those of us who are friendly towards Astoria but never swore your Oath and may never do so, but wish to fight this evil alongside you. I offer you the services of the Order in exile. We will fight the coming storm under your banner." The Lady was speechless for the first time in living memory.

Shadow of the Unicorn

Susan Skylark

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2015 Susan Skylark

**A Brief Note on Reading Order for the 'Chronicles of the Brethren:'** you may pick up any book in the series and begin reading, but for maximum enjoyment, it is suggested by the author to begin with 'The Serpent and the Unicorn.' 'Once a Thief,' is a prequel to 'Serpent,' 'Thus It Began,' chronicles the origins of the world, and 'A Song of Lesser Days,' is set 1000 years before 'Serpent.' 'The Legends' are set in various times and places, the chronology not important to the story. This story takes place approximately 1200 years after 'Thus It Began.'

Table of Contents:

Student:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Apprentice:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Brother:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Shadow:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Student:

Jace stood upon the battlements, staring, though unseeing, out upon the bleak grey landscape of the failing year ere snow covered and softened the weary land for its winter repose. Leaden clouds lowered ominously on the horizon while a mournful wind moaned pitiably in the half completed towers of the grotesque fortress; the river passed sullenly by without comment, preoccupied with its looming icy imprisonment. Though only partially complete, the grim fortress was already falling to ruin, as were the souls who lingered therein. The place was hardly cheerful, even upon a bright morning of spring, and was at its most dismal ere the first snows of winter, but it was not the weather that brought the boy out to pace the battlements upon such a dreary day, rather he had much to contemplate and none of it good. His patched cloak flapped wildly in the wind but he little noticed, for his thoughts were just as unruly. His grandfather, a nobleman displaced by war, had laid the foundations of this ruin and his father had further built up the fortress after its founder's untimely death, but the family fortune had run out long before the project was finished, so it moldered in half-completed splendor while its occupants dwelt ever in the shadow of poverty and isolation, and now it seemed, madness as well.

Jace's father was but a boy when war forced the family to flee with what they could salvage of their wealth. The patriarch was determined to start anew in a strange land, much to the dismay of the locals, but they were a rather peaceful folk and he began his project without asking their permission, and as they were notorious for their willingness to forgive, the project continued despite their misgivings. But tragedy struck the third winter the family spent in their new home, for both of Jace's grandparents died of pneumonia within a fortnight of one another, leaving their son, still very much a boy, alone in the grim fortress with only a few faithful servants and guards that had accompanied the family in its flight, for they trusted no one in this strange land, least of all those of common descent. But the boy was not crushed by his loss, but rather was as determined, perhaps more so, than his father to finish the project and become a veritable lord in this strange land, the protests of the original inhabitants aside.

Construction continued slowly as the boy grew to manhood and the family fortune dwindled, but surely the son of a nobleman might make a proper match and thereby reinvigorate his fortune as well as perpetuate his line. So it was that Jace's father went a-courting and soon came home with his beautiful and captivating bride, the very picture of a wealthy lady, but only a picture, for though of noble blood, her family was as destitute as that of her new husband, though neither had thought to broach the subject before their marriage, assuming the other was indeed as rich as they portrayed themselves to be. The truth came out very soon after Jace was born; the ensuing fight was the stuff of legend, at least if you believe the tales told in after years by the aging servants, but in the end, the lady fled, leaving her infant son and husband to fend for themselves. The man looked coldly upon the boy, who was so like his mother in form and feature that he could not help but despise him. He turned his back on the child, stared stonily at the open door out which his wife had fled, and then withdrew to his own chambers. Had one of the few remaining servants not taken pity upon the poor creature, he likely would not have survived infancy.

The man seemed indifferent to the fate of his son, pretending that he did not even exist and focusing all his time, thought, and energy on his project instead, but there was no money to pay workmen or buy stone and timber, so the man had to do everything himself. Only two servants remained of the few that had fled with the family, lingering on out of faithfulness and because they had nowhere else to go, for their lord had long since ceased to pay them. The old housekeeper did the cooking, looked after the domestic side of things, and was the only mother the boy ever knew. The other was an aging guardsman who had taken on the duties of butler, valet, and jack-of-all-trades; it was he that taught the boy what little he knew of reading and more importantly, to his mind at least, the sword. The rest of the lad's education was left to what he could glean from the few books that lay forgotten around the fortress and what the housekeeper could impart in the form of old stories as she wandered about the keep seeing to her myriad duties.

As the boy neared manhood, at last his father took a modicum of interest in him, but whether it was due to some newly realized desire for kith and kin in his fading years or because his rheumatism forced him to abandon his fortress building activities, none knew. But one day the master of the ruin summoned the lad into his chambers, where he sat in relative splendor in a fraying robe with a moth-eaten velvet chair for a throne. Upon the lad's entrance, the man studied him as he might a horse he had a mind to buy. After several minutes of dreadful silence, the man said at last, "what do they call you boy?"

The lad blinked in surprise that his father did not even know his name, but his servile foster parents had taught him courtesy, if little else, said he with a proper bow, "I am called Jace, sir."

The man nodded as if it were of no matter and continued, "very well boy, they say you are my son, a claim I cannot verify yet neither can I fully deny it. In either case, it is high time you started to earn your keep around here. My father had a vision that this castle would one day tower over the surrounding countryside and herein would his descendants be safe from war, plague, and the like, nevermore to be driven like refugees from that which was rightfully our own. This is all my purpose and destiny and it shall be yours, whether you like it or not. You will take up where I have left off: cutting timber, collecting stone, using it to finish what my father began, well?"

The boy gaped, was this to be all his future? A slave to another man's futile dream?

The man shook his head sadly, "I see you are not a man of vision, like unto mine, a pity, for I think it proves that you are not my son after all. I will give you the afternoon to ponder your future, either submit yourself to my father's dream and fulfill your true purpose in this life or get you gone from here, never to return." The boy gave a perfect bow and vanished from the room, fleeing to the battlements to mull over his future, whatever it might be.

Night was falling and still he had found no sensible reply for the grim man waiting impatiently in his chambers below, prematurely aged by labor, sorrow, and unrestrained ambition. Jace glanced uneasily out upon the darkening world, could he truly find a life out there in the world that had forsaken his family, from whose stock had sprung his faithless mother? Yet he knew he could not remain forever a slave to his grandfather's dream as his father had ever been. What was he to do? Where was he to go? The outside world terrified him, but could he live on for countless years in futile toil? He wanted to scream or weep and came very close to doing both, but his reeling thoughts were interrupted by a stooping ghost that loomed out of the darkness before him.

Came the gruff but concerned voice of the guardsman, "what troubles thee lad? The master sent me to find ye, he is impatient for yer answer."

The boy glanced silently out into the darkness and the man nodded in grave understanding, "aye, it is a hard choice, but no choice at all I think. This cursed place has consumed two generations of yer family lad, don't be a fool and make it three. Whatever horrors lay without, they can be nothing to what lurks herein."

The boy nodded his silent thanks and then went to find his father, knowing the man had spoken truly. He knocked timidly upon the door and entered upon the gruff command to do so. He found his father standing before the hearth, staring into the flames, his hands clasped at his back; he did not turn around or even look at the boy, said he, "a harlot's son, through and through, cannot even stay on to succor an aging wreck of a man in his failing years, the selfish, selfish wretch." Suddenly the man turned, his anger giving him strength and speed that years of hard labor had stolen, he took up an iron poker that lay to hand and his eyes seemed to blaze with the light of the fire at his back, snarled he, hefting the poker aloft, "Out! Out! Get out, you insolent oaf!"

The boy knew the man was in earnest and half out of his mind besides, lingering not a moment longer, he turned and fled the chamber and hied himself that moment from the crumbling keep. The housekeeper and guardsman watched him flee with sad eyes, shook their heads in dismay, but had known for many a year that there could be no other end to the tale, but at least this wretched fortress would not utterly consume the boy as it had his forbears, what the outside world might do to him was another matter entirely.

Jace fled with only the clothes on his back, packing was of little matter as he was currently wearing everything he possessed. His only thought was to escape the broken dreams and empty years that lay behind with no concern for what the morrow might hold, for he knew nothing of purpose, joy, peace, hope, or comfort. His world was as cold and lonely as the fortress he had just fled. A miserable drizzle began to fall not long after his flight, forcing him to seek what shelter he could beneath a clump of spruce trees that seemed to huddle together for comfort amid the cold, wet dark. Every fiber of Jace's being cried out to do the same, but one cannot comfortably cuddle with a conifer so there was nothing left to be done but cry himself to sleep.

A wan shaft of sunlight filtered down through the clouds and pierced the fastness of the boy's retreat, bringing him blinkingly awake. He sighed heavily as he gained his feet, seeing no reason to go on save that he was too anxious and grieved of heart to sit still. So off he went into the dawning, grateful that the rain had stopped and that he could now see whither he fled. Which got him to wondering where exactly he was to go. He knew nothing of the outside world, save for forays with the guardsman into the surrounding forest to collect wood or to hunt. He had never even seen a farmer's cot, let alone a village. He had heard the housekeeper mention a city once, a concept he could not quite comprehend, but he was not sure he wanted to venture thither, for she had spoken of it in hushed tones one night with the guardsman as they sat before the kitchen fire, certain the lad was abed and not hiding in the doorway, listening in horrified fascination as she described the demon-worshippers that dwelt therein and the horrid practices with which they maintained their uncanny powers.

He smiled grimly to himself, pondering what was best to be done, as his feet followed a game trail seemingly of their own accord, so little did he notice or care whither his path led. He could wander out into the wilderness and undoubtedly die of exposure or starvation during the coming winter or he could find this city and see if the housekeeper's awful tales were even half true. It might be death either way, but at least he could discover what a city was ere the end. With this grim acceptance, did he suddenly step out of the surrounding woods and look upon a great swath of cultivated land, dotted with farmhouses and well-tended copses, and in the distance loomed the infamous city. He had inherited a little of his father's ambition, so with a grim smile pasted on his face did he set out in quest of what could only be his doom.

His smile became incongruous as his journey progressed in a rather anticlimactic fashion, for though he had prepared himself for sights grim and terrible, the countryside was rather picturesque and the few folk he observed in passing seemed as sensible and down-to-earth as either the guardsman or the housekeeper. He consoled himself with the thought that of course the commonfolk would be of similar disposition to the menials with which he was acquainted, it was only their fell masters that would be workers of such foul magicks. He hastened his steps to discover this inevitability for himself but was again sorely disappointed. He soon found himself in a veritable flood of humanity headed for the city to conduct the day's business. People at first trickled in from the outlying farms and villages but soon converged upon the main road leading into the city.

Jace gazed about him in wonder, never having imagined there could be so many people upon the face of the earth, let alone upon one certain stretch of road. The houses and shops that began to line the way were also strange to his eyes and he goggled like the yokel he was; some of the more world-weary passersby about him smiled in welcome amusement at the lad's befuddlement, for a moment remembering their own forgotten youth. A veritable city had grown up around the walls of the original settlement and many of Jace's fellow travelers vanished into the labyrinthine streets and alleys upon their own errands, but most continued on through the gates, few even glancing at the guards who stood silent watch at the gates and upon the walls, but the boy froze in fascinated terror. His sudden halt brought a few complaints and jostles from those nearest him, but they shoved around him and continued on their way, some giving him a meaningful glare but most shaking their heads in vast amusement.

So too did those fell warriors eye the boy with smiles that never broke the stony facade of their faces. But as more and more people pushed by the lad and entered the gates unscathed, he drew a deep breath and pressed ever onwards into the heart of a city inhabited by sorcerers and worse, though strangely, none of the folk about him seemed overly concerned about their impending doom. He was drawn inexorably to the center of the city where a great castle towered over everything. For a long time he stood as one transfixed, staring up and up and up at the edifice that soared above him. A rueful smile split his lips, for even had he and his descendants ten generations hence worked ceaselessly, never could they hope to make anything like this of that horrid fortress. And thence lay his doom. At last, he gathered his courage and set forth upon the last leg of his final journey, thinking it quite a heroic effort on his part and not a little disappointed that there was not a bard or poet at hand to record the tale. Most of his erstwhile companions had vanished long ago into the city proper and left the bumpkin to stare as he would. So it was that he came to the castle gates and found himself very much alone with a whole host of those grim faced guards just waiting to make a gory end of him. Where was a poet when you needed one?

He stood awkwardly out of the way, studying those who guarded the gates and those who came and went upon their own errands, not finding anything too sinister in any of it. Again rather disappointed, the lad at last made his own approach, knowing his courage was hanging by a thread. His first attempt at speaking failed dismally with the guard looking at him in perplexity and what might, to Jace's horrified mind, be pity!

But the guard saved him from further embarrassment and possible flight by asking, "what can I do for you lad?" He actually smiled, "you need not be so terrified, you are quite safe within the confines of Astoria."

The boy blinked in utter astonishment, could this fearsome warrior truly be speaking to him, and with kindness? Demon-worshippers indeed! Said he at last, a quaver in his voice, "I am in desperate straits, sir, but well know that there is little hope for one such as I in this cold, indifferent world."

The guard nodded in understanding and said gently, "aye lad, many come hither with just such a tale, but take heart, for we shall do all we can to remedy your plight, whatever it be." Jace looked near to fainting with hunger and astonishment, as the man motioned for a servant standing within the courtyard to take charge of the flummoxed lad and see to his comfort. The servant smiled in amusement, having done the same a thousand times before, and easily guided the gaping boy into the castle proper, leaving the guard to speak with the next person awaiting his attention.

At last Jace collected his wits enough to comprehend what the servant was saying, "the morning meal has just finished, but I can bring you something once you are settled." He studied the lad's ragged attire that was more patches than original cloth and smiled wryly, "and I'll see to your wardrobe as well. Have you come to study then?"

Jace froze and studied the man as if he had asked if his father were a toad, said he in astonishment, "study? You must know I could little afford such a luxury!"

The servant grinned, "I suppose it is priceless at that, but come lad, anyone is free to study in Astoria and all the Lady asks is that you abide by her rules whilst you reside in the city."

The boy gaped anew, but a smile danced in his eyes, said he with an incredulous grin, "then I will certainly take you up on that offer, sir." The servant nodded as if it were simple sense and they continued on their way.

He stopped before a door at the end of a long corridor and said, "you can sleep here for now, this room is currently unoccupied but if you stay very long, you will undoubtedly find yourself with roommates rather soon. I'll see about finding you something to eat and some appropriate attire." He smiled broadly as he turned to go, "welcome to Astoria!"

The boy stared wistfully after the retreating form for a moment and then curiously opened the door and entered the room. Glancing about at the small but comfortable chamber, he laughed aloud and said, "demon worshippers indeed!"

"How dreadful!" came a startled and unfamiliar voice.

Jace turned around in surprise to find a girl about his own age, or at least so he assumed, not having much experience in such matters, peeping round the door, a broom forgotten in one hand. She squeaked in dismay, "forgive me, I was just sweeping the hall when I heard your outburst and just had to investigate." She blushed crimson at her own unseemly outburst and though she colored further, pressed on, "can you tell me more about these demon worshippers?"

Jace was not sure whether he was more startled, annoyed, or amused by this perplexing creature, but said as calmly as he could, "I haven't much to tell, for I was only laughing at the incongruity of this place with a description I once heard of it. The old woman was convinced this place was naught but a den of such villains, but I have yet to find them, should they exist."

Briane laughed excitedly, clasping her hands like a little girl, "oh, you will have to look long and hard to find such in Astoria. I have been here all my life and have never heard of such goings on."

Jace smiled wryly at his previous eagerness, "so there isn't anyone in Astoria possessed of uncanny abilities as my unenlightened source assumed?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," came the voice of the returning servant. He gave the girl a patient look, "have you not things to be about?" She squeaked again, dropped a curtsy, and disappeared round the corner with a death grip on her broom. The servant shook his head and smiled ruefully, "the silly girl spends more time eavesdropping than attending to her chores; more curiosity than a cat, has that one."

Jace was gaping again, but the servant ignored him and thrust a pile of clothes and a tray of food into his hands, saying as he did so, "as promised, here is your breakfast and a change of clothes. If you hurry, you can just make it to the next class session. You'll have an official schedule soon, but until then you had best tag alone with some of the other Students." He smiled impishly, "and as to your unasked question, you'll soon discover the answers for yourself if you pay attention in class." He nodded at the boy and vanished about his interrupted errands.

Jace shook himself, frowned in consternation at the servant's retreating back, and then hastily changed his clothes and wolfed down the food, both from hunger and eager to begin his education. Only then did he realize he was alone in an unfamiliar castle with no idea where to find said classes. He shrugged, smiled as his audacity reared its head once more, and dashed down the hall in search of a class or an adventure, whichever came first.

He nearly collided with a pair of slightly older boys as he came careening around the corner, determined not to be late. Suddenly ill at ease, Jace muttered his apologies and stared at his feet. One of the older lads must have heard, 'new here,' amongst Jace's mumbling for he cheerily replied, "don't worry about it! Come with us and we'll help you get settled."

The boy stared up in astonishment, gaping yet again, stuttered he, "how can this be? How can you be bothered with helping me? I don't understand?"

The older pair exchanged a grin, then Adan, the lad who had spoken, clapped the younger boy on the back and smiled, "it seems you have much to learn about life in Astoria. Wherever you came from, it must have been a rough life. But come, else we'll be late." Jace smiled at his reassuring words and then blanched in near panic at the thought of being the cause of their tardiness. The older pair shook their heads in amusement but all three hastened off to class.

Jace remembered little of that first lesson, so overwhelmed was he with all that had happened in the last day and all the novel sights and experiences he had taken in. His erstwhile guides were assigned chores in the stable the following hour, which allowed the overwrought Jace some much needed time to sit and think while his companions shoveled muck. The midday meal offered another course of novelty and wonder to Jace's abused sensibilities, never in his life had he been amidst so many people, and most astonishingly of all, though complete strangers, they actually seemed to care about him. Another round of classes was set for the afternoon, but Jace felt he needed some time alone to sort everything out, and perhaps even a nap after his difficult night. He goggled, less than a full day had passed since his father had cast him out, alone in the night. Adan nodded his understanding and showed him back to the corridor that housed his room, and though he valiantly intended to contemplate upon all that had happened, he fell promptly and soundly asleep.

A ruckus in the hall wakened the boy as the eager Students returned to their rooms after their last class before going to the evening meal. Jace glanced blearily about, wondering for a moment where he was, but suddenly realization dawned and a great smile lit his face. He had come home at last. He adjusted his rumpled clothing, grateful it was not too wrinkled from his nap and ran a hand through his hair, it would do, then dashed excitedly from the room, again nearly colliding with Adan, who smiled roguishly at the boy and hoped such behavior was not becoming a habit. Said the elder lad with a grin, "it is good to see you so refreshed, you looked rather stunned when we parted and I know you learned nothing in class today, but it seems there is hope for you yet."

Jace smiled ruefully, "it has been quite a day." He glanced hopefully in the direction of the dining hall, even after so short a stay he had become very much accustomed to being fed regularly and well, which was an unlikely occurrence in his former life, said he, "and I'd be happy to tell you all the tale over the evening meal, that is if you care to hear it."

Adan laughed outright, "aye, it must be quite a story indeed, but fear not, there shall be plenty of food to go around."

Jace colored and began studying his boots, abashed that his greatest desire at the moment was so blatantly obvious. Adan glanced at said boots as well and frowned, "but first we had best stop by the supply room and find you a decent pair of boots."

Jace looked up suddenly in surprise, would the miracles in this place never cease? He had never owned a decent pair of boots, this particular pair had been worn by his father when he fled his homeland, ages ago! Adan smiled warmly at the look of grateful astonishment in the lad's eyes and led the way, eager to see the wish fulfilled. The servant in charge of the supply room at that hour took one look at the antique footwear, turned away with a disgusted groan, and vanished into the storage area, reappearing with a worn, but quite serviceable pair of boots that actually fit the agape lad. Rather pleased with himself, the servant smiled smugly and reluctantly took the ancient boots in exchange, his countenance taking on an unruly expression as he did so, their fate remains a mystery to this day but judging from his face, it was not a pleasant one.

As they walked to the dining hall, Jace remarked with an awe tinged voice, "I have never encountered such generosity, not even from my own folk!"

Adan shook his head, his eyes sparkling, "you've seen nothing yet, all we've done this day is see you properly clothed and fed."

Jace froze mid-step and faced his companion, "there's more?!"

Adan clapped him on the shoulder and smiled, "aye, more than you can begin to imagine." They continued on, Jace speechless in incomprehension.

As they sat at table, finishing their food, Jace told his tale, much to the horror and astonishment of Adan and his friends who had joined them for supper. No wonder the boy was so grateful for the least bit of kindness or attention! Adan said at last, "so that is the tale behind that ugly heap of rocks up river? Long have we theorized amongst ourselves about who or what had built it, or rather begun it, and why. It is a grim enough story in its own right." He smiled ruefully, "though nowhere near as horrific as some of the tales we've birthed."

The others shared a wry laugh and eyed their companion with both pity and wonder, Jace awkwardly studied his peas, uneasy being the focus of such attention. Adan continued, more to distract his companions away from their study of the abashed boy than for anything else, "well, this is the place to start over or start anew, if that is your wish. Any idea what you want to do with your life?"

Jace could not restrain his laugh, "it was but a day ago my father cast me out and I encountered true human society for the first time in my life, let alone human kindness. Must I already know the course of my future?"

The others joined in his mirth, forgetting how high were the expectations of their hosts and thus, inadvertently perhaps, their own. Once the laughter had subsided, Jace asked a bit timidly, still uneasy speaking his mind amongst so many strangers, "what is this place? Who founded it? How can they afford to support so many ragamuffin students with no expectation of remuneration? Is there some hidden agenda or trap, for it seems too good to be true?"

Adan smiled, "rest easy my friend, there is nothing sinister or hidden here. You may stay as long as you wish and leave likewise. The only requirement is that you do your best, be respectful of others, and follow the rules as best you can. According to legend, Astoria was founded centuries ago, near the very Beginning. The country is self-sufficient and quite prosperous in its own right, but is also supported by various Kings, Lords, and wealthy benefactors who believe in its mission or have benefited from its services themselves. They have been educating all comers since its foundations were laid."

Jace nodded thoughtfully, "a noble cause I suppose, but who founded it and why? My experience of the world is limited, but I do not see blind philanthropy as a common trait amongst men, someone must have had a reason."

Adan studied his companion thoughtfully, trying to gage his reaction to what was to come, said he at last, "you will learn far more in your initial classes, but the simple answer is: the Master Himself provided for the city's founding as a home for the Brethren and those they serve."

Jace blinked, not having imagined the so far sensible Adan to be one who believed in fairy tales, said he in consternation, "that is what the legends say?"

Adan grinned, "you are a skeptic then?"

Jace shrugged somewhat sheepishly, though he was not the one who seriously thought myth had once walked about under sun and star, "I suppose, though I know little enough of the subject, and of all else for that matter, that I should withhold judgment until I am certain."

Adan nodded, "fair enough, but don't worry, there is no requirement to believe a certain way to study here. Even if you hold it all to be a tall tale, there is still more wisdom to be garnered here than you'll be able to absorb in a lifetime."

Jace smiled in relief, "that is good to know." He frowned thoughtfully, "I met a servant earlier who made a rather cryptic comment about certain individuals around this place having uncanny abilities, but he said I would have to wait for my classes to answer my questions in that regard. Our old housekeeper was convinced the city was inhabited by demon-worshippers, a claim I am certain is wrong, but what is the truth about this place and its denizens?"

Adan smiled in amusement at the servant's evasiveness, he was pretty certain who it was the lad had met, but he said, "the Brethren are purported to have certain gifts given to them in their service to the Master, you will learn far more in days to come if you want specifics, but there is nothing evil in the mix. Uncanny yes, miraculous certainly, but not demonic." He smiled impishly, "how is it you can believe in demons but not the Master?"

Jace frowned at the thought and then smiled ironically, "that is an incongruous thought! But then, I am not sure I believe in demons either, it was just something I overheard and never gave much serious thought until I was bound hither in the dark, alone, after being cast out from all I ever knew. I guess the imagination is prone to embracing the grim and frightening with far less reluctance, especially under such circumstances, than the rational mind is in accepting the supernatural in far more congenial surroundings."

Adan smiled broadly, "my friend, you have come to the right place, for yours is a mind quick and ready to absorb all available wisdom and knowledge, and here you will undoubtedly find ample fodder for thought."

They continued their conversation upon more general topics, for which Jace was thankful, little liking being the center of attention when he was so little used to it; so absorbed was he in all that was said that he did not notice Briane sitting on the edge of the group, studying him with sparkling eyes and a knowing half-smile upon her lips.

Adan saw him back to his quarters after the meal, for even with his nap, Jace was exhausted though sorely disappointed not to be able to participate in the games and conversations held amongst the students that evening, but such was the ritual every night, so he consoled himself with the thought that there was always tomorrow and many days thereafter. Yawning, he bid goodnight to his companion, and was soon asleep.

Once Jace had retired for the night and his companions had dispersed, Briane hastened down to the kitchens in search of her mother. A few of the servants looked askance at the girl in the Student's uniform hurrying through that part of castle at so unseemly an hour, seeing only the uniform and not the face, but those that recognized her thought nothing of it, for Students were rarely found in the kitchens at that hour so the former thought her up to some mischief while the latter knew her true errand. "Mother!" said the girl eagerly, "might I have a word with you?"

Juliene, the head cook, frowned at her daughter in consternation for her unseemly behavior, but quickly wiped her hands on her apron and motioned towards the pantry, which was for the moment unoccupied. The girl smiled exuberantly, quite unconcerned with her mother's disapproval and dashed into the small room, impatient to impart her strange news, the flummoxed dame following in her wake. As soon as the door was securely shut behind them, the girl burst out, before her mother could reprimand her for her impudence, "did you not once tell me a tale concerning yourself and that awful fortress up the river?"

The lady frowned the more, wondering what had gotten into the child, but said slowly, "yes, but what brought it to your attention tonight and why the secrecy?"

The girl grinned unabashedly in her excitement, "there is a new student, a boy about my age, who claims to have fled the place, just last night."

The good lady sat down suddenly on a barrel, her hand over her heart and a small gasp marring her usually unflappable demeanor. Briane took a step towards her mother in concern, never having seen her so shaken, said she, "have I said something wrong?"

Juliene smiled wanly, regaining her composure, said she, "no, you have just said the impossible child, did this boy say what role or position he held in said ruin?"

The girl grinned, "he claimed to be the proprietor's son."

The woman shook her head adamantly and locked eyes with her daughter, "you are certain of this?" The girl nodded, curiosity burning in her eyes. The cook could not help but smile, knowing the girl took after her mother in that particular trait, perhaps too much so, said she, "I once mentioned I was an inmate of that place, but have said little more, for it is yet a painful subject to me and some might take the story amiss, but it is time you knew something of my own past and your own history."

She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts, as the girl's eager eyes tried to burn a hole into her mother's mind, continued she, "you have often asked of your father but I have said little of him. If this lad's tale is true, that would make him your twin brother." She paused and allowed the girl to absorb the shock before resuming, "I was once mistress of that wretched keep, at least in title, but was in truth little more than a servant. I was a daughter of noble stock, but with no wealth left to the title, and so it was also with your father, though neither of us admitted as much until long after the wedding, both assuming the other to be in possession of a fortune and embarrassed about our true straits.

It was shortly after your birth that the truth came out and I fled that place in fear of my life, such was your father's reaction, though the fault was as much his as mine, but it was far more grievous a blow to himself, in his own thinking, because his only true love was that wretched fortress and now there was no dowry to continue in the building thereof. We fought, his temper as unruly as my own," the girl smiled openly at this, "and you can imagine the outcome. At last fear overcame pride and I snatched up my infant daughter and fled, bitterly leaving my son to his father's ill-mercies, but unable to carry both of my children away. I came here and was given a place among the servants, eventually working my way up to my current position. I thought your brother long dead or forever a prisoner within the grim walls of that horrid place, but your news gives me exceeding hope that it is not as I feared."

The girl's eyes sparkled with tears of sorrow and joy as she leapt forward and embraced her mother. They stood there for a long moment before the lady separated herself from the girl and said, "now, I shall look further into the matter and you, my dear, should be in bed." A mischievous smile lit the girl's face but her mother said sternly, "do not even think about it Briane, you are to say nothing nor act upon any of your girlish impulses until I give you leave to do so. Remember, you are a Student now, not just a servant's child, and as such you must act accordingly, am I understood?" The girl nodded contritely, her mother smiled gently, and chivied her to bed, but did not emerge from the pantry herself for some time, a hopeful smile on her face and unshed tears glistening in her eyes when she did so.

The next morning, contrary to her mother's commands, Briane waited impatiently outside Jace's door, convinced that she would die of curiosity if she did not do something, and soon. After all, no one had forbidden her from speaking with the boy, she just could not reveal anything in particular to him at the moment, besides, he was new and undoubtedly in desperate need of a friend, thus she reassured herself repeatedly as she waited for his emergence.

At last the door opened and the boy jumped to find the impertinent girl of the broom lurking without like some predator waiting in ambush. Said he in annoyance, "could I help you?"

She grinned impishly at him, sensing his was a temper akin to her own and that of her mother and thus infamous, said she, "I thought you might appreciate having someone show you around today."

The boy gaped at her pertness, but a mildly amused smile replaced his frown, as he said, "I suppose it would not be the worst thing in the world, though I had hoped Adan would be my guide again today."

She made a face of disgust, said she, "why would you want to be guided about by that stuffy boy? Besides, he is a far more advanced Student whereas we are both beginners. Do you have your schedule yet?"

Jace grinned at this description of his new friend but said nothing as he rummaged around in his pocket and withdrew a crumpled paper and handed it to the girl, who took it with interest and nodded as she studied it. At last she said, "we are in the same classes it seems, so I am far more suited to guiding you about than that bore."

Jace wore a vastly amused smile and the girl paled in horror, guessing immediately who it was that must be standing at her shoulder. She turned with wide eyes to meet those of Adan, which were dancing with silent amusement. She blushed scarlet, but held her ground, refusing to be so easily thwarted. Said he at last, amusement strong in his reply, "come now Briane, I am not all that bad am I?"

She stared at him, never having imagined he possessed such a thing as a sense of humor, but his eyes continued to dance while she floundered awkwardly for some way to regain control of the situation, said she at last, "I suppose not, I was just trying to...well anyway...we had best get down to breakfast ere we are late." The boys exchanged an all too amused smile, but politely followed her hasty retreat to the dining hall. As they walked, they whispered quietly together, much to Briane's continued mortification and fury, though the conversation had nothing whatsoever to do with her, her mounting frustration only fed the amusement shared by her companions. They reached the dining hall just in time, for she was fit to burst or throw something in her angst while the gentlemen could barely contain their mirth. Thankfully the obtaining of food and seats allowed all and sundry a chance to regain their composure and take up the conversation as if nothing untoward had happened.

Adan said genuinely, "I think Briane has the right of it Jace, she would be a far more appropriate guide, seeing that your schedules are comparable. She's also a native of Astoria so she just might have more insight into how things work around here than I do. She'd be a perfect source for any information I failed to give you last night." His smile deepened and his eyes danced, "and she's a far more lively conversationalist and much more interesting person, and thus a far better companion."

She glared at him and then turned her fiery gaze upon Jace when he smiled in reply to Adan's observations, which made them both smile all the more. She sighed, resigning herself to their continued mercilessness regarding that particular topic, and said quite sweetly, "I am happy to see Adan agrees with my assessment. What do you say?"

Jace squashed his grin and said as solemnly as he could, "I would be grateful for your help in the coming days."

She nodded curtly, as if the boy were at last speaking sense, and said, "very good, now we had best get to class." The gentlemen stood as the lady vacated her chair and then each proceeded in the appropriate direction. Said Briane as Jace accompanied her to their first class of the day, "I suppose Adan isn't as stodgy as I thought, in fact he hides his wit quite well, so well I once doubted he even knew how to laugh."

Jace grinned, "you just haven't spent any time in his company but rather chose to judge him from a distance and decided he wasn't worth knowing."

She stared at him, this sudden insight worthy of her own quick wit, she smiled proudly, a possessive light in her eyes, which made Jace a little uneasy, but she said contritely, "you have the right of it, sir, I congratulate you on your insight."

He stared at her as if she had uttered complete nonsense, never having believed this half-fey creature capable of such contrition or of offering true praise! He shook his head in wonder but was saved from contriving a reply by their arrival at their classroom. They silently took their seats and awaited the advent of their teacher, a creature Jace was much desirous to look upon, as it would be his first close look at one of the near mythical Brethren, having paid little heed in his class the previous day and being too nervous to look too closely at those warding the gate upon his arrival. He blinked in astonishment when the man entered the room, at the sheer commonality of the man, having assumed the members of said brotherhood would be obviously different from ordinary men. This time he attended to the lecture with open ears and a ready mind, gaining at last answers to some of his myriad questions and birthing far more. He smiled in amusement at his own tenacity, wondering if he would ever be sated when it came to knowledge or if he were doomed to ask more questions with each answer he was given. He sighed at his tendency to wander and forced himself to pay attention to what the man was saying.

Afterwards, Briane met him at the door with a quizzical smile on her face, asked she, "well?"

Jace grinned, "if this class is any indication, this place has well earned its reputation as the center of learning and wisdom in the civilized world."

She nodded proudly and escorted him out to the practice yard where their sword class was to commence. Jace was both eager and anxious for his next class, for the old guardsman had taught him much, but claimed Jace was too clumsy, slow, and muddleheaded to learn aught else of the weapon, but the boy wondered if it were rather that the man had come to the end of his knowledge and was too ashamed to admit it to a mere boy. Today might tell him the truth of the matter. The class was apparently made up of neophytes who did not know one end of a blade from the other, and it was with a broad smile that Jace realized he was at the top of his class the very first day.

The aging swordmaster eyed the young scamp with some pride but reproved Jace sternly, "don't let it go to your head lad, just because you know how to hold a sword without cutting your leg off. You might be good compared to these beginners but we'll see what comes of you in a more advanced class."

The boy's triumphant smile fell and an anxious light entered his eyes, what would come of him in an advanced class? The man saw his reaction and nodded approvingly to himself before turning to a nearby student to offer comments on his stance and grip on the weapon.

Afterward, Briane beamed, "I have never seen the swordmaster so impressed! He is not one easily moved."

Jace gaped, "impressed?! The man just took me down three pegs and nearly promised to let the advanced students use me as a practice dummy."

Briane grinned all the more, triumphant in knowing she understood at least one person better than her brother. She led the way to the kitchens where they would spend the next hour helping with the busywork necessary for the noon meal. He exchanged a glum look with his escort and said, "I forgot that there is more to life in Astoria than learning and leisure."

She grinned at him and handed him a knife and a potato, saying, "I hope you are as handy with this blade as you are with a sword." He returned her smile and they both set to work while Juliene watched surreptitiously from the far side of the kitchen, irritated at her daughter's disobedience but encouraged at their budding friendship and the little quirks and characteristics that marked the boy indelibly as her own offspring. She smiled eagerly, but forbore telling the lad just yet, not wanting to distract him from his remaining duties that day. The pair finished their tasks and vanished towards the dining hall for their midday meal.

Jace's heart dropped into his stomach as a servant approached him after supper that night, for it seemed the head cook was intent on speaking with him privately upon some serious matter. Yet again he was to miss the camaraderie amongst his fellow students that inevitably followed dinner, but he dared not keep the lady waiting, he wondered if he had made some horrid mistake slicing vegetables earlier in the day, if so, the discipline here was far harsher than he had at first imagined! He dejectedly followed the fellow to a small room just off the kitchens, fully chastened before he had even faced the Lady of the Kitchens. The servant opened the appropriate door, bowed himself out, and shut the door as he left. Jace was left alone with the imperious looking woman, who wore a thoughtful smile, which he assumed boded ill for his own wellbeing; the Lady of Astoria herself could not be more intimidating, or so he thought at that particular moment.

She saw his timidity and said gently, "easy lad, you are in no particular trouble at the moment. I simply had a few questions for you."

He relaxed somewhat and took the chair she offered as she assumed the one opposite and then began to interrogate him regarding his history and family. He was unsure what she thought of his answers, as no hint escaped her thoughtful but stony visage, at last she said, "you do know that Briane is my daughter?"

He gaped and quavered in reply, "no my lady, that she failed to mention." He added hastily, "but don't worry, we're just friends, honest!"

She could not restrain her smile at such an outburst, how was it her children were so good at discomfiting her of late? Laughed she, at which he visible melted, "that is the last reason I asked for this interview, but I am glad you find her company agreeable, for she is your sister."

She gave the boy several long minutes to gape and stutter and then began her own story, he soon lost himself in the telling, nodding and grimacing as he recognized his father in her words, which was all the more proof, had she needed any, that he was her lost son. When she had finished, they looked at one another awkwardly for a moment and then she said rather anxiously, "I know it has been an eventful few days, but I hope this last revelation has not completely overwrought your sensibilities and that you can forgive my abandoning you when you needed me most." She studied her hands in dismay, "it was the hardest thing I ever did, and you will never know how it wrung my heart, but there was nothing else to be done." She looked up hopefully, "but perhaps we have a chance to right the wrongs of the past and to start anew?"

The boy was silent a moment, but there was such a piteous plea in her voice and so desperate a look in her eyes that he could do but one thing: wholeheartedly did he fling himself into the dear woman's arms; she needed no other answer. They stood there for a long time, sobbing like heartbroken children in both unfettered joy and releasing years of buried sorrow. The weeping subsided into an occasional sniffle or sigh; they looked at one another with radiant though teary eyes, strangely happy, heartbroken, and embarrassed all at the same time. A stifled giggle, quite alien amidst that solemn, nay sacred atmosphere, brought a flare of color to both faces and two sets of eyes set to desperately searching the far corners for this profaner of a moment most dear. With an exasperated sigh, Juliene released her son and turned stern but forbearing eyes upon her daughter, in no way surprised that the girl had somehow discovered their tryst and found a way to secret herself in the back of the room. She would have smiled in rueful pride save that it would only encourage the girl, for it was a feat worthy of herself at that age.

At last she said, "quit lurking in the shadows Briane and let our family be whole once more." The girl crept unabashedly from her hiding place, nearly glowing in triumph, smiled like a smug cat at her brother, and nodded in greeting to her mother. What followed was long cherished in all their hearts as one of the dearest hours in each of their lives. Finally, long after curfew, all three crept wearily but joyously to their beds.

Jace awoke the next morning both jubilant and disbelieving, could it be true that he was no longer alone in the world? That the future lay wide open and bright before him? He smiled joyously and flew through his morning routine with a zest that defied the meager amount of sleep he had had the previous night and very nearly danced his way down the hall to breakfast. He felt a prisoner long held in darkness and chains, just now released into freedom and sunshine, for he was no longer the friendless boy enclosed by grim walls of stone and worse, fenced out of all human society and companionship by hearts far more hard and grim than the ramparts of that forsaken keep. He was far from whole, but last night there had come a breaking, and with it, the healing might now begin. He smiled like joy itself as he skipped into the dining hall, nearly trampling Adan in his exuberance. The older boy shook his head and smiled at what was by now a familiar ritual, but then his eyes narrowed and he studied Jace with an uncomfortable intensity, for there was something odd about the lad this morning.

At last he said, "you are very nearly glowing, my friend, what has passed in the night to elicit such joy?"

Jace's smile nearly split his face asunder, for he could not wait to broadcast his joy to the world. As they sat down to eat, he began his tale, little noticing his fast cooling eggs as they congealed into something quite inedible, but so too did his audience grow with each passing word and many a plate was ignored or forgotten that morning, as half the student body listened in wonder to the tale that was told. When he finished, a great whoop of joy escaped each astonished throat, echoing the unexpressed wonder in his own heart. Only then did they notice the time, and as one, they vanished hastily to their forgotten classes lest they all be late.

Breathing hard, but just in time, Jace raced into the weapons practice yard for his first day in the intermediate sword class. The old swordmaster eyed him gravely but could not hide the slight smile that lifted one side of his mouth, the other was permanently frozen in a dour expression thanks to a great scar that ran from temple to jaw, many were the stories told of how he had won it, but none knew the true tale, for no one had yet been bold enough to ask. The man nodded to the latecomer gravely, motioned for him to take up a practice sword, and join the others that were impatiently waiting for the lesson to begin. The older students eyed the newcomer with incredulity, wondering how this mere boy qualified to stand among them, but Adan smiled knowingly and gave his friend an encouraging wink. They paired off, set themselves, and began to spar.

Jace was at first overwhelmed, having only ever faced the grizzled old guardsman in feigned combat, his current opponent was far younger, quicker, and felt it his duty to teach this upstart boy his place, but years of practice and a natural talent quickly overcame his hesitation and it was the older lad who learned a lesson that day: that age or lack thereof did not necessarily signify one's level of experience or skill. The swordmaster watched stonily, a strange light in his eyes. He called a break, allowed the boys to catch their breath, and switched up the pairs for another round. So it was that Jace bested every lad in the class that day, save Adan, whom he fought to a standstill, but he could not say of a certain that he did not go easy upon him for the sake of their friendship.

The swordmaster was far from pleased. He dismissed the other lads that they might clean up before their next class, but Jace he held after for a private dressing down. The boy was rather dismayed, feeling the man should be impressed by his demonstration of skill that day, but it was not in this that he was disappointed, rather he rounded on the boy and said, "what were you thinking in that last round lad?"

Jace frowned, "I do not know what you mean, sir? I did the best I could."

The man shook his head adamantly, "that you did not, perhaps you thought you did, but you went easy on the lad, is he a friend of yours?" Jace frowned thoughtfully but nodded his assent. The man smiled in grim satisfaction, continuing in a less exasperated tone, "you must learn to employ your skills to their fullest but also learn when quarter must be given. You must overcome your natural tendency to go easy on those with whom you are close, and rather consciously decide how hard to press your foe, or friend, whatever the case may be. There may come a day lad, when you are forced to cross swords with him whom you love best in the world and on that day you must be able to control yourself, to press yourself hard, else all will be lost. It is a great responsibility, but it is the cost of bearing and using such a weapon. Can you do it?"

The boy gulped, his eyes wide, and nodded adamantly, determined not to disappoint this gruff old man. That half smile flashed briefly across his countenance, but Jace was certain of what he had seen, and knew Briane would not be pleased to know that he could now read the stony swordmaster at least as well as she, which brought a silly grin to his own face, which was rather out of place at such a moment. The swordmaster barked, "off with you now before you are late, again." The grin vanished, the boy bowed his farewell, and flew like a fox before the hounds.

His reassignment to a different sword class meant his entire schedule had to be switched around, which meant he now shared only half his classes with Briane, rather than the majority of them. He had not seen her since the previous night, for she had not come to breakfast, but he hoped to see her during their introductory philosophy class. He crept in at the last moment and took a seat far to the back, Briane sat near the front and flashed him a mischievous grin as he slunk in and then returned her attention to their teacher, who watched his last student enter with a long suffering smile before beginning the lesson. Chagrin briefly colored Jace's cheeks, but soon enough he was lost in the topic and his heart leapt eagerly as the lesson progressed, for never had his mind tried to wrap itself around such concepts and ideas; suddenly a whole new universe of thought had opened itself to him, like a rose breaking forth into full bloom as the sun's first rays fall upon it, though he did find it mildly annoying that such an astute man must ever weave the Master and his doings into what should be a purely factual presentation. He smiled wryly and supposed it was a foible he must tolerate if he were study under such fanatics who mistook myth for very truth.

After class, Briane joined him in the hall with a warm smile, said she, "well brother," she shook her head at the strangeness of speaking it aloud for the first time and smiled the more, "I heard of your exploits in the weapons yard this morning, why did you not tell me you were so skilled a swordsman?"

Jace smiled like a rogue, "but my dear sister, you never asked, and I would never think of insulting one of your cunning by blatantly telling you something that you should be able to discern simply by spending a moment in my company."

She rolled her eyes and laughed, "you didn't know the extent of your own skill. Why did you not just say so in the first place? There is no sense dissembling to, quote, 'one of my cunning.'"

He laughed, "you have me there little sister."

She glared at him, "and how am I your little sister? We do not know which of us was born first and we are of a height."

He returned her smug smile from the previous evening but said nothing in reply, leaving her to wonder what it was he knew or wanted her to think he did.

After dinner that evening, Adan, Briane, and some of their varied friends and acquaintances gathered around Jace with curiosity, pride, and wonder in their eyes, as if he were the hero of some great tale that was only begun. He had already proved himself a man of skill and intelligence during his brief stay in Astoria; the miraculous appearance of a mother and sister added the necessary bit of romance to the saga, this along with his difficult and mysterious past were irresistible to these lovers of epic tales, now all that remained was a romantic interlude to make it a proper story. While Jace's admirers and well-wishers gathered in one corner of the dining hall, another group of students assembled on the far side, composed mostly of those older students he had bested with the sword that day and those who sympathized with them.

Though the Brethren did not encourage rivalry amongst their pupils, being human and young, it was inevitable that such feelings would arise from time to time, especially surrounding one so young, yet so talented. So it was that a legend was born, or as much of a legend as one can be without having accomplished something significant in life. There was no arguing the fact that the boy was very likeable, quite skilled, and great fun to be around. The other students fell firmly into one of two camps: they either loved or loathed him; there was no middle ground. Those his own age and younger or who took the time to actually get to know him, found much to admire while those who were older, jealous, or felt themselves humiliated or wronged, loathed the very thought of him.

He excelled in everything he turned his hand or mind to, being an excellent student as well as a natural athlete and warrior. He quickly outpaced his classmates in the beginner lessons and soon found himself placed in the intermediate and even the advanced classes with students several years older than himself, which only increased the abhorrence felt by his detractors and the near adoration of his supporters. Jace was so used to indifference or even open hostility from those nearest to him that he easily ignored his critics while growing ever closer to his friends and newfound family. So it was that he truly began to flourish, having found his place and his purpose, or so he thought, for there was nothing he could not do and those that said otherwise were only deceiving themselves.

There was only one thing he could not understand, one blotch upon an otherwise perfect existence and bright future: he could not reconcile himself to the existence of the Master or rather his need for such a concept, yet the supposedly wise folk that lectured him daily upon any number of topics seemed to take His existence as a matter of course and found absurd ways to interconnect it with everything they said or did. How could such learned individuals not see their own folly and be so oblivious to their own blindness?

One night he cornered Adan in the dining hall after supper, said he, "we need to talk."

Adan quietly studied his friend and knew the moment of decision had finally come. He had watched Jace struggle, fight, and mull over the issue since his arrival in Astoria. He nodded somberly and said, "let us retreat to your room where we may speak at length and undisturbed." Jace nodded and led the way out of the dining hall and back to his room.

Once they were comfortably ensconced in the little room, Jace began, "you know how I have struggled for weeks with reconciling the concept of the Master with what is otherwise a wise and rational folk. How can they believe as they do yet seem so wise and learned?" He frowned, "you have never told me of your convictions in this matter."

Adan could not help but smile, said he, "you have never asked, and struggling as you are, I did not think you would appreciate me foisting my own thoughts upon you unasked."

Jace nodded, his mouth twisted in a wry expression, "I am grateful for that, but the time has come and I now ask that you tell me truly, how it is you can accept all the words of our teachers as truth or how you accept part as truth and discard the rest as folly."

Adan studied his companion silently for some moments, trying to gage his reaction of the revelation he was about to make, hoping it would not destroy their friendship, said he, "I find no incongruity in their words or beliefs, rather I do not see how such a wondrous world could arise without Someone to give it form and function, nor can I see how such concepts as love, joy, beauty, and purpose have any place in a world that is the result of accident or happenstance."

Jace sighed deeply, inhaled slowly, then looked his friend in the eyes, saying, "you are no fool, my friend, so I must respect your opinion even if I cannot hold it as my own." He glanced down nervously at his hands, which gripped his trousers in unconscious dread, hesitatingly he looked up and asked, "do you intend to go through with it then?"

Adan's eyes narrowed, "go through with what?

Jace clarified in growing apprehension, "to join them, the Brethren, I mean."

Adan nodded, leant back in his chair, evenly met his companion's worried gaze, and said quietly, "I do."

Jace sighed heavily, as if hearing dreadful news about which he could do nothing, then said resignedly, "I will miss you."

Adan barked a laugh, "it will be a few months yet before I am old enough, and anyway, it is not like I am going to die when I take my Oath."

Jace shook his head, "you don't understand, do you?" He locked gazes uneasily with his confounded companion, said he, "when you become one of them, you cease to belong to the world in which the rest of us dwell. You enter a world of myth and magic, in which rational minds can have no part. I wish you well of it, my friend, but I cannot be happy in your decision."

Adan grinned in spite of himself, "then at least be happy for me, for it is what I want with all my heart."

Jace smiled sadly, accepting his friend's heartfelt words, nodding he said, "very well, I shall rejoice in your contentment and try and be so myself." He sighed again and with a wan smile said, "come, the night wastes, let us make all we can of the time that remains to us." Adan shook his head ruefully, wondering why Jace kept speaking as if joining the Brethren was akin to committing suicide, but he faithfully followed his friend back to the dining hall to see what their comrades were up to.

The next day as Adan and Jace were crossing the castle courtyard on their way to their sword class, they were forced aside as a large mounted party clattered into the courtyard and a bevy of servants came rushing forward to hold horses, help with luggage, and assist the ladies in dismounting. The pair of students watched in fascination from the shadow of the stables, ignoring the myriad guards and servants that accompanied the party, rather focusing on the lady just alighting from her horse, a girl about their own age, but judging by her entourage, clothes, and bearing, of noble if not royal birth. She was also the most beautiful woman either had ever seen. She disdainfully scanned the courtyard, completely oblivious to their very existence. They exchanged a rueful smile and then hastened off to class, knowing the swordmaster was far less keen on tardiness than all their other teachers combined.

When they returned after practice, the courtyard was again empty save for the usual denizens thereof busy about their errands at that particular time of day. Just then Briane ducked out of the stable where she had just finished her turn at mucking stalls, said she excitedly, "did you see that royal lady that just arrived?" They nodded, eager for her to continue the tale, entranced as they were with the comely maiden, despite her haughty demeanor. Continued she, "the Lady of Astoria herself came down to meet her, for she would speak to no one else. It seems she's a veritable princess, if the eighth of twelve children, but she acts as if she were already a sitting Queen. Her father sent her here to study."

She glanced around quickly to make sure no one was listening or paying them any heed, gossip was not a trait the Brethren encouraged any more than rivalry, she lowered her voice and said, "though in truth, I think she's here to find a husband. There's many a great lord and even a few Kings that send their sons here to study in hopes they'll make better leaders one day. She was quite distraught when the Lady said her entourage couldn't stay in the keep; she alone could remain, and only so long as she submitted herself to the role of Student. Her companions would either have to go back to her father or find somewhere to stay in the city. My how she gaped and railed, but in the end she had no choice, no one can match the Lady glare for glare, especially so spoiled a girl. I bet she won't last a fortnight before she goes sulking back to daddy."

Both of the boys looked rather disappointed which made Briane grimace in dismay and no little disgust, "don't tell me you two are falling for her?!"

Jace said rather lamely, "she is rather pretty."

She shook her head and sighed at her hopeless brother and then frowned at Adan, said she, "and what about you?"

Adan grinned roguishly, "and what business of yours is it whom I find attractive, my lady?"

She crossed her arms and scowled, "as your friend and your best friend's sister, I should think it is some business of mine."

Jace quietly studied his furious sister and the strangely taunting Adan, suddenly wondering if there might not be more between them than friendship, though apparently neither was aware of their deeper feelings at the moment, if any. A rather devious thought occurred to him, and happy for some distraction from this disquiet revelation, Jace said with an impish smile, "the lady in question hardly seems likely to join the Brethren, thus Adan must look elsewhere for female companionship if he truly intends to take his Oath one day."

The pair had been exchanging glares, Briane's was furious and Adan's highly amused, but this outburst brought both sets of eyes to bear on the now abashed Jace, desperately wishing he had thought it over before just blurting it out. He saw the hurt in Adan's eyes and flinched as if he had been physically struck while Briane was flabbergasted. She whispered at last, "is this true?"

Adan frowned at Jace in consternation at this breach of trust and then turned to face Briane, saying softly, "such is my intention though I had not yet told anyone but your brother, whom I did not give leave to spread it abroad."

"Well," said Briane, a little too sharply, "we had best get to class or we'll be late!" She dashed off without a farewell and Jace thought she was trying to hold back the tears as she fled.

Adan gave him a grim look, Jace studied his feet and colored like a sunset, he raised his eyes to his friend's stony gaze, and muttered, "I'm sorry, I didn't think before I spoke. I was just trying to rile you both. I didn't mean to hurt Brie or break your trust."

Adan's grim face melted into a rueful smile, "I suppose word would get out eventually, and you are right, I have no right to be making eyes at a woman who is not likely to become one of my future comrades. I had just hoped to enjoy a little more time as just another student rather than face my companions in the role of future Apprentice. You are my dearest friend and got all weird when I mentioned it, imagine how those less acquainted with me will take it."

Jace smiled wryly, "my sister was example enough, but maybe once everyone gets over the initial shock things will go back to relative normalcy."

Adan smiled, "I hope you are right, and even if they don't, it is the truth and I must live with it regardless, I had just hoped to announce it in my own time, not have it prematurely broadcast hither and yon by an overwrought Briane."

The noon meal was as awkward as either of them could have imagined, which only reinforced Jace's opinion that one might as well commit suicide as join the Brethren, for the effects on one's social status were inevitably the same thing. A few of their closer friends and most of the current Apprentices in residence came over to verify the rumor and wish Adan well in his future career, but most of the Students kept their distance and stared at him as if he had sprouted another head. Briane was nowhere to be seen, which only made Jace feel even more wretched over his ill-timed comment. Adan gave him a wry grin as they sat by themselves, as if they carried the pox. Jace smiled ruefully in return, deciding they might as well find the situation amusing if they could, it was either that or break down and cry, which wouldn't help things at all. Besides, things would settle down in a few days, especially with a renegade Princess in residence who should provide distractions aplenty in days to come. He frowned as he considered what his continued association with Adan might do to his own social standing.

Thankfully his prediction came true before he had managed another forkful, providing some much needed relief from that last troubling thought, as the lady in question stormed into the dining hall, demanding that someone, anyone, attend to her needs immediately. Every lad amongst the Students, save the disgraced Adan and his companion, leapt to their feet to do her bidding, but a collective gasp ran through the hall and froze all where they stood, as the Lady of Astoria herself strode through the hall. Jace studied her in wonder, this being his first real view of the legendary leader of the Brethren; he was not disappointed, for here was power indeed! She calmly ordered the students to resume their seats and interrupted activities, before sternly drawing the girl aside to give yet another lecture on the behavior expected of a Student.

The Lady then withdrew, leaving an awkward silence in her wake, before everyone burst into conversation all at once. The seemingly cowed princess contritely fetched her own food and meekly looked for a place to sit before seating herself across from the other outcasts. Jace smiled warmly in greeting and for a moment, her icy haughtier melted away to reveal a warm and eager smile in return, but she soon schooled her features to indifference once more as she studied her erstwhile companions.

Said she with only slight disdain, "are either of you of noble blood?"

Jace grinned the more while Adan rolled his eyes, said the former, "I am in a way, my lady."

She frowned, imperiously studied the food on the end of her fork, and then asked in perplexity, "in a way? Either you are or you are not, sir, be good enough to tell me if you are truly of that persuasion."

Jace shrugged, taking the plunge, "my grandfather was a nobleman but forced to flee his homeland when war broke out. My mother is likewise of noble stock, though long bereft of fortune. I shall bow to your wisdom in this instance, for I do not know if that qualifies me as nobly born or not?"

She smiled pertly at his boldness, "very well sir, I shall pronounce you a nobleman born and bred, and therefore one with whom I might feel at ease interacting. A well-bred horse is no less fine for having fallen in the mire or tangling itself in briar and bramble, neither do hard times destroy a noble lineage. What of your friend here?"

Adan grinned in spite of himself, "I am of peasant stock my lady and also in disgrace amongst the Students of Astoria, you could not find a worse rogue with whom to converse at the moment."

She looked at him askance, as if she wondered at his bantering tone and whether his words were merely taunting or the truth.

Jace laughed, "he might be a peasant born my lady but knows nothing of playing the rogue. It has merely come to the attention of our comrades that he wishes to join ranks with our esteemed hosts one day and for this he is temporarily ostracized by our peers."

She smiled slightly, catching their amusement, "ah," said she, "a fugitive lord and his outcast friend must be far more interesting companions for an exiled princess than many hereabouts." She thawed completely and Jace caught his breath as she smiled whole-heartedly, "very well, you shall have the honor of showing me about this peculiar place and teaching me all I must know." Jace nodded exuberantly and Adan shook his head in wonder at his friend's infatuation.

Just then a feminine throat cleared behind her ladyship and all three jumped to see Briane standing there, said she with only a slight tremor in her voice to betray the shock she had suffered earlier that day, "you want these two clowns to lead you around, my lady?"

Ella turned round to glare at the insolent girl, saying, "and who are you to gainsay me?"

Briane didn't even flinch, but actually smiled, "your esteemed lord happens to be my brother."

"Ah," said the lady, "then I suppose you might join our company, if it is agreeable to you, for I cannot so easily dismiss perhaps the only lady of noble birth in all of Astoria."

Briane could not help but laugh, "nay my lady, that would be very unwise, for I must either love you or loath you, for you are not a personality I may simply ignore. Very well, I shall accompany you and these reprobates for a time and we shall see what comes of it." She glared warmly at said reprobates and seated herself beside the princess, who could not help but smile at the girl's boldness and fiery temper. Thus it was agreed that the three would do their best to acquaint her ladyship with life in Astoria in the days to come, and for the first time since her father declared her exile, Ella felt the first stirrings of eagerness for what was to come.

Ella accompanied Briane to her remaining classes that afternoon, and eagerly plied the girl with questions regarding her rather handsome and roguish brother. She was delighted to hear that he was smart, popular, athletic, and had an upstanding reputation, though it must be taken into account that this was a fond sister's representation, but that not withstanding, it was a promising start. By the end of the day, the two girls were chatting and giggling as if they were old friends, a display Jace was both happy and dismayed to see, wondering what his sister would tell her companion of her irksome brother yet glad to see that the comely girl could forget her royal heritage and actually act like a warm and responsive human being on occasion.

They suddenly seemed to sense his presence and glanced at him sharply, at which he grinned insolently and offered Ella his arm, saying, "might I escort you to dinner, madam?"

She beamed at him, gave him a perfect little curtsy, took his arm, and together they vanished in the direction of the dining hall, each giving Briane a smile in farewell, his was even more insolent and hers was most cordial. Briane shook her head in exasperation at her tiresome brother's antics and went to find Adan, needing to talk with him privately after the day's troubling revelation. She frowned, usually the pair was inseparable this time in the evening, but she could not see him anywhere.

She jumped when she saw a shadowy figure moving out of the corner of her eye but hid her chagrin rather well as she hastened after the retreating form, who had been watching from a far turning in the hall. Adan stopped when he heard Briane following, allowing her to catch up. He smiled ruefully at her and said quietly, "alone as well my lady?"

She smiled sadly up at him and said, "that I am, my good man."

He grinned impishly, "have you forgiven me my intentions yet? Or your brother for his ill-timed outburst?"

She shook her head in feigned dismay, "that scamp! But yes, I cannot stay angry with him for long, he means well, if he is not always tactful in his approach." She turned curious eyes upon Adan, "do you really mean to go through with it?"

He nodded, "it is my dearest wish."

She looked at the floor, unable to meet his solemn but eager eyes, quavered she, "I had not realized what you meant to me until Jace's announcement; I felt as if someone told me you were dead!"

He laughed heartily, "why does everyone react that way?"

She shook her head ruefully and met his gaze once more, but then looked away abashedly, wishing she had not, pled she, "is there nothing that will change your mind? What if I said that you are more than a friend to me and I hope one day it will be far more?"

He smiled down at her sadly, placing his fingers under her chin and raising her eyes to his own, said he, "not even that lady, though your words are music to my heart. Know that your feelings are not unrequited, but I know with all my heart I must do this thing."

Tears glistened unshed in her eyes as she nodded, glancing again at the floor, "is there no way?"

He smiled wanly, "aye, there is a way, but I fear it is not a path you will take."

She looked at him with all seriousness and said, "what must I do?"

He shook his head, "I may only pursue a woman of my own calling."

She gasped but frowned thoughtfully, "I had never even considered it."

He said quietly, "neither can you pursue that calling simply to win my heart, it must be done willingly for its own sake."

She sighed heavily, but said, "I must carefully consider this matter." She put a gentle hand to his cheek, smiled sadly, and walked away. Adan watched her go, wearing a smile both thoughtful and sad.

The great wagons rumbled to a stop on the outskirts of the modest city and immediately the peddlers leapt from their perches, broke out their wares, whisked their horses out of the way, and cried aloud all the while, extolling their peculiar and much desired wares; the crowd closed in like vultures on carrion to discover what, if anything, borne by these traders from afar might convince them to part with their hard earned coin. As evening faded into night, the last of the customers straggled home, leaving the merchants at last to themselves. Jay had just finished his attentions to the last of the horses as he settled the beasts for the night when his father approached, placing a firm hand upon his shoulder.

Jay turned to meet the man's beaming gaze and smiled contentedly, knowing he could not ask for more out of life, but the man's countenance fell as he said, "lad, I know what it is you want most in life, but there is something you must do ere you have your wish."

The boy steadily met his father's gaze, wondering what it was the man proposed. Continued he, "I know you want nothing more than to have a wagon of your own, full of wares to sell, and impatiently await the day it will be so, as do I, but first I think it best if you discovered what else the world might hold for you, rather than dooming yourself to the life of a wandering merchant. I want you to spend a year in Astoria, study what you will, interact with others your own age, and see if anything else sparks your interest or desire. If not, we'll be back in a year's time to retrieve you and then you shall have your wish. If you find something else, well, anything that makes you happy could not make me prouder."

The boy stared at his father in dismay, a year?! In a strange city, alone? The man laughed heartily at the boy's discomfiture, "easy lad, it is only a year and that to spare you a life of regret. I never had the chance and I've always wondered what else my life might have been. I will not curse you with that burden. What do you say?" The boy sighed heavily but nodded, he could never defy his dear papa in anything.

The next morning saw the lad bidding a sad farewell to his folk, knowing this would undoubtedly be the longest year of his life, but saying nothing of his dismay, he tried to smile and part ways as pleasantly as such a thing could be done. He turned up the road leading into the city proper with drooping shoulders, soon losing himself in the growing sea of strangers; his father watched with a sad smile, long after he had vanished from sight. It would break both their hearts but he knew it was for the best; it was only a year after all.

The boy tromped along, unheeding of anything else about him until he stood outside the gates of the towering castle. He mumbled something incoherent about coming to study to the guards at the gates and was soon admitted and given into the keeping of a waiting servant, who did his best to get the dejected young man settled, but there were some comforts the man could not give. He smiled sadly at the boy, knowing innately that he was heartsick for home, and knew only time and love could heal that particular wound. He left the lad with a cheerful farewell, sitting listlessly on the bed in his new room, but he was not even sure the lad had heard him before he returned to his own duties.

Jace returned briefly to his room during the lunch hour to discover he had a roommate at long last. He glanced anxiously about the room, embarrassed that he had books and papers and clothes strewn about the room as if it were entirely his own, but the newcomer didn't seem to mind or even notice. He frowned when the boy failed even to raise his head to see who had opened the door. "Hey!" said Jace, but the lad just sat there, staring out the window with unseeing eyes. Frustrated, the boy did the only thing he could think of and splashed the unresponsive fellow with a handful of water from the washbasin.

That did the trick, the boy leapt off the bed in a fury and looked ready to tear this impertinent intruder asunder for his temerity, but the impish grin covering the fellow's face froze him in his tracks. He frowned at Jace and grumped, "can't you leave a fellow to his own thoughts?"

Jace shook his head, "not when they are so dreadful that life is no longer worth the living. I can't let you stew in your own dejection!"

Jay sighed heavily, "but I've lost everything I've ever loved."

Jace gave him a horrified look, "permanently?"

Jay shook his head, "only for a year."

Jace laughed wryly, "what are you thinking man? You haven't lost anything, rather you've merely laid it aside for a time." Said he more soberly, "be glad you have something to lose."

Jay frowned, "what does that mean?"

Jace shook his head, "nothing, just that it is a truly blessed man who has friends and family to miss him whilst he's gone."

Jay actually managed a wan smile, "right you are my friend, I hadn't quite thought of it that way. It is only a year after all and this place can't be all that dreadful if they allow scoundrels like you to run amuck." Jace returned his grin and offered to escort him to lunch, to which the newcomer heartily agreed.

Briane, Ella, and Adan were waiting for Jace impatiently when he finally entered the dining hall, for he had gone to his room simply to fetch a book, they were all rather astonished to see him return with a person instead. After getting their food and introductions all around, they settled in to interrogate the new arrival, which proved a pleasant distraction from his otherwise unsettling thoughts. He was surprised at how much he was enjoying the company of others his own age, especially those of the feminine persuasion, perhaps his father had had the right idea after all.

As they sat before a roaring fire in the library that night swapping stories of the day's misadventures, Jay felt himself right at home and eager to know more of his companions, and strangely, the world in general. He smiled contentedly, knowing his father was a wise man indeed.

The next day was their Free Day, the one day of the week in which they had no classes or chores to attend to and on which they could wander about the city, gather with their friends, catch up on their reading, or explore the countryside about Astoria. The odd little fivesome chose to do the latter, borrowing horses from the stable and bundled against the chill of early winter, they set off with joy in the morning. They rode rather slowly, though the boys wished for nothing more than to go galloping over the frozen ground, but the ladies convinced them that such reckless riding over snow, ice, and frozen furrows could only end in disaster, so reluctantly they kept to the main road and the wider cart paths, keeping their pace to a safe but tedious walk.

They chatted gaily amongst themselves, moving freely about the group, even Ella deigning to speak with those of common descent, having finally forgotten that she was of Royal blood and therefore superior to all life on earth; at last she was free to be merely a girl, without the pressure and temptations of palace life to crush her into a shape that was not naturally her own. With each passing day, she relaxed more and more and truly started to bloom, becoming the woman she was always meant to be. Jace watched her proudly and a bit possessively, though he had not yet realized that she was on the hunt for a noble heart and had selected his as her primary prey.

Jay watched their interaction curiously, seeing enough between them to know that this particular lady, at least for the moment, was not open to or interested in his pursuit. He smiled ruefully, with her Royal pedigree, she wasn't likely to make a content peddler's wife anyway. He turned his attention to the other members of the party and studied them just as curiously, trying to map out the strange dynamics of the little group. Adan rode with Jace's sister at the moment though neither said much, save perhaps to comment on the weather or point out some pleasing view or oddity along the way. There was definitely a little awkwardness there, but also more warmth than he would expect in mere friends; he scratched his head in befuddlement and decided the pair would bear watching, perhaps they did not even know themselves what was going on.

At last the pairs broke up, the gentlemen closed ranks while the ladies rode close together, whispering eagerly with no few giggles in the mix. Asked Jace of Jay as they plodded along, "so you intend to finish out your year and then return to the wandering life of a merchant?"

Jay nodded, "that is my plan, at least at the moment." He grinned, "but who knows what may happen in a year in this peculiar place?"

Jace glanced at Adan with a knowing smile, "who indeed?"

Adan frowned good-naturedly at the pestiferous boy, forcing Jay to ask, "what does he mean?"

Adan studied the newcomer for a moment before saying, "he thinks me mad for wanting to join the Brethren." He glanced unconsciously ahead at Briane's back and sighed, "and sometimes I wonder if he is not right."

Jay followed his gaze and nodded to himself, so that was the game; there were feelings between the pair yet the man's determination to do his duty as he saw it was coming between them. What sort of man was this who would throw aside love for duty? He felt a great respect budding in his heart for this noble young man. Asked he of Jace, "you have no interest whatsoever in the matter?"

Jace grinned broadly, "I have no use or time for such a concept; I am well content in and of myself." He glanced fondly towards Ella before continuing, "what need have I for myths when life is so rich and full?"

Jay grinned, "strange that you can sit day after day in classes taught by those that hold such myths as very truth yet not come away tainted by association."

Jace laughed, "I can sort the true wisdom from the chaff; I have long ago settled the affair to my own satisfaction."

Adan leaned over with a wry grin and whispered, "just last week, actually."

Jace glared at him but a rueful smile softened the expression and they all laughed, drawing the ladies' attention. They smiled back at the gentlemen, allowing their horses to lag so that the boys might catch up that they might ride all together, placing themselves on either side of the row of horsemen. When they stopped for their midday picnic, the girls complained of the cold and Adan promised to escort them home after lunch while Jay and Jace agreed to venture further into the wood, wanting to explore, no doubt more recklessly than the ladies would otherwise approve. They finished the meal, made their farewells, and then parted ways.

They left the horses tied on the verge of the forest, knowing they would be more hindrance than help upon their intended path. A deep gorge wound through that part of the wood with a frozen river at the bottom of a sheer rocky drop. They had intended to try climbing down, but the ice and snow clinging to the crevices hidden in the steep sides convinced them otherwise, instead they contented themselves with exploring the rim, gazing down into its depths, and eventually crossing to the far side via an ancient tree that had fallen across the ravine and acted as a natural bridge. Their adventure was cut short by the early onset of night at that time of year and only reluctantly did they return to their horses and the city itself. But they were very grateful to meet their friends at the castle gates with warm drinks, eager to hear of the day's adventure. Jay goggled at the fact that he was nearly a stranger, yet these peculiar folk had already embraced him as one of their own. His heart still ached for his father and the family circle that was the merchant caravan, but at last he was content to realize he possessed a family of a different sort and there were acceptable ways to live other than that to which he was accustomed; he smiled to wonder how he would feel a year hence.

One day a few weeks later, Briane ordered Jace to accompany her back to his room and told Jay he had best stay away for a while, because she wanted to talk with her brother, alone. Jace smiled incredulously at the girl, who was she to be demanding privacy when she managed to sneak her way into every secret conference he or their mother had ever tried to arrange, but so troubled was she that the irony was completely wasted. He nodded, gave Jay a grateful look, received an amused nod in reply, and followed his sister as she marched off down the hall.

Once they were alone, she turned to her brother and said with a troubled voice, "is Adan still intent on going through with this?"

Jace smiled sadly, "I am afraid he is and it is fast approaching." He had seen the growing affection between them and it hurt keenly to see his sister and best friend so confused as to what their relationship was and what the future held. Adan sometimes spoke of 'what ifs' but he always came back to his original intention and from that he never swayed. Poor Brie could not fathom why anyone would want to join the Brethren in the first place, which should have immediately ended the relationship, for her lack of understanding only made the situation worse when it was the most important thing in Adan's life at the moment, but she was persistent and refused to abandon him until there was absolutely no hope. He could not refuse her anything, being the consummate gentleman that he was, so they floundered along day by day, waiting for something, anything to happen, but it never did, save the day of the Oathtaking gradually drew closer.

"There is no hope?" mourned she.

Jace shook his head, "not unless you take the Oath too."

She sighed heavily, "why can't I just ignore him and get on with my life?"

Jace smiled sadly, "because he's a good man, too good to be wasted on such a futile life, but it is his life to squander."

She frowned, "but he doesn't see it as such and he's no fool. What are we missing?"

Jace looked at her thoughtfully, "I have no idea. Either he is wrong or we are. But how can we be wrong?" They shook their heads but came no closer to an answer.

She said resignedly, "I can't abandon him, no matter how much it hurts, whatever betide, he is still my friend."

Jace nodded, "my feelings exactly, perhaps it will be better once all of this is finally resolved and we can all go back to the way things were before."

She said wistfully, "I am not sure I want them to be as they once were." Jace smiled sadly in understanding but had no answer.

They returned to the dining hall and joined the rest of their familiar company, Briane drawing aside with Adan to talk quietly in a corner. They seemed to come to some sort of mutual understanding, even if Brie did run off crying to her mother, a not uncommon occurrence of late.

As Adan returned to the group, Jay frowned, "what is it with you two?"

Adan shrugged, "she yearns after something I can never give her, at least not in the way she wants it. I think at last she has come to understand that." A pained look entered his eyes, "and for that I am most grateful." Jace gave him a sad smile and nodded in commiseration. Jay looked thoughtful.

Trying to change the subject, Ella chimed in, "she'll get over it, a woman always does, though it tries her heart sorely in the interim." She smiled sweetly at Jace, "I hope I never have to go through such a trial myself."

Jace caught her eye and blushed like a sunset, Ella being one of the few people who could fluster him these days, for his confidence and skill grew daily, but he was still uneasy around the ladies at times, especially those he found particularly attractive, most especially Ella. The other students held him either in contempt or awe, with few exceptions, those being the members of their intimate little company, of which Jay was becoming a vital member, for with Adan soon to join the Apprentices, Jace was in desperate need of someone sensible to talk to. He didn't intend for it to happen, but slowly their friendship was changing as the Oathtaking approached, and after, he knew it could never be the same. Thus he drew closer to Jay while he slowly drifted further from Adan. He supposed it didn't help that his sister was in love with the man, Adan reciprocated her feelings, but would not throw aside his silly Oath to pursue her. With a sigh, he turned his attention back to the others, in desperate need of some distraction from these unsettling thoughts.

Distraction did come, but not in any form Jace had anticipated. A servant approached and said that the Lady of Astoria wished for an audience. The boy blanched in terror, having only ever seen her from afar, save for the day when she confronted Ella. He held her in as much awe and dread as the other students, though terrified and perplexed as to what this could possibly be about, he dared not refuse her. He nodded, stood, and exchanged an anxious look with his friends, before vanishing in the servant's wake.

The servant led Jace deep into the castle, wherein the Lady kept her formal audience chamber, but they bypassed that particular room and entered a smaller room off to one side, wherein the Lady sat before a dying fire with a cup of tea in her lap. She smiled warmly when Jace bowed himself in and the servant vanished, closing the door as he left, leaving the boy alone to face his doom, or whatever this was. She motioned for him to seat himself in the opposing chair and help himself to some tea, had he the desire. He was far too nervous to even think about tea and would rather pace than sit, but he dared not refuse her entirely.

Said she at last, a trace of amusement tingeing her voice as he finally seated himself like a condemned man before his judge, "I suppose you are wondering why I have summoned you?" He nodded minutely and she continued, "you have quite a reputation young man, the reports I hear of your performance are remarkable, nay astonishing. We have not seen your like in two centuries." She pierced him with her hawk-like gaze, "yet I also hear you are something of a heretic."

He was on his feet in a moment, his fear forgotten, ready to defy the Lady of Astoria to her face. She smiled amusedly as horror registered on his face and he sat suddenly, quite contrite, mumbling his apologies. Her warm laugh was the last sound he expected to hear. He looked up in astonishment into eyes warm, deep, and knowing, feeling that she could see into his very soul and understanding anew why Kings trembled in her presence. Said she, "there is fire in you lad, just like your mother and sister." Her smile deepened at his shock, she continued, "I know most of what passes within the walls of my Keep." She sobered, "now why won't you use your exceptional skills in the Master's service?"

He stared at her incredulously, forgetting that it was rude, said he agape, "I have no use for your mythical Master. I am content in and of myself, I need no one else."

She smiled sadly, nodded, and said, "then there is nothing else we need discuss, save that I am very sorry for you, that is unless you have anything you would ask of me?" He shook his head adamantly, made his bows, and literally flew from her presence. She stared into the fire and sipped her tea, wondering what would come of such a remarkable young man if he continued to stubbornly refuse that which was asked of him. She shuddered to think what that might be. He had not been so blessed with skill, wisdom, and strength of character to live solely for himself, and she pitied him in his discovery of that fact, and prayed that he had the wisdom to see the light and embrace it when that fateful day finally came.

The weeks passed slowly for the little company, but finally the pivotal day of the Oathtaking came: the day that would utterly change everything, and not for the better, thought Jace bitterly. Adan made his preparations and vanished for the ceremony. Briane was inconsolable and would not leave her room; Ella condoled with her and refused to admit anyone else, leaving Jace and Jay to fend for themselves. The only solace in all of it was that he and Ella were all but engaged, but that was of little consolation when Jace felt as if his heart was about to fall to pieces. Curse the Master for deceiving and stealing his best friend and breaking his sister's heart! He was too distraught to consider the irony of cursing a being in which he did not believe.

He turned to Jay and growled, "I can't stay here any longer. I need to get away from Astoria until all this is over, for better or worse. Come with me; bring your sword."

Jay nodded silently, concern and unasked questions in his eyes, but he followed Jace's lead and soon found himself riding out of the city, practice sword strapped to his hip. They rode without a word to the edge of the forest and left the horses, heading towards the gorge with all haste. Jace drew his sword and climbed up on the great bole of the fallen giant that spanned the ravine, calling recklessly to his friend, "come, let us try our hand at a little sparring!"

Jay gaped, "are you mad?" It was early spring, but the wind was still bitterly cold as it fretted with his cloak while ice and snow still lingered in the crevices, making Jace's stunt not only foolish but truly treacherous.

"Coward!" shouted Jace, trying to goad his companion into a fight, shaking his sword for emphasis. So frustrated and confused was he, that he was desperate for this foolish match to vent some of his irritation with life in general and the Brethren in particular.

"Come down Jace!" Jay shouted back, "there are better ways to deal with your frustration!"

Only then did Jace truly appreciate his situation: the gorge gaping on either side and an icy tree trunk under his feet. He paled, nearly panicked, tried to gain control of himself, and then took a tentative step back towards the safety of the near side, only to slip and plunge into the chasm below. Jace heard Jay's howl of terror before something struck his head and then all was pain and blackness.

Jay raced to the edge of the gorge and stared in horror at the broken figure lying unmoving beside the frozen river. He could not safely climb down to reach his friend without suffering a similar fate, nor was there anything he could do to rectify the situation even if he could. His only choice was to ride back to Astoria and fetch help, which he did with a heavy heart and tears in his eyes.

A magpie lit on the chest of the unmoving boy, his breathing ragged and shallow while his eyes stared fixedly at nothing. The little carrion fowl studied the prone form curiously, cocked his head, and suddenly the boy's breathing normalized and his once vacant eyes blinked once, caught the bird's eye, and then all was again blackness.

Jace glanced desperately around himself, but everywhere he looked there was Nothing. This wasn't just the deep black of starless night cloaking all in its midst; it was truly Nothing. He was alone, dreadfully alone, and he wanted to scream in horror, for he was all there was and all there would ever be. When he boasted that he needed nothing but himself, this was not what he thought he meant.

Suddenly there was Something: a flicker of light, a breath of air, another presence, and his heart leapt in very joy at the mere thought. But his heart fell as he realized Who his companion was. He trembled in terror and looked up into the fathomless eyes of a Great Unicorn, in whose depths churned all the joy and wonder and love in the worlds and beyond them, but with such a grief and sorrow marring their surface that it would tear a lesser heart asunder. And he knew to his inmost being that he was the cause of that sorrow, with that thought he wanted to flee back into the Nothing in shame and terror.

The Nothing was about him immediately and his heart quailed in terror, forgetting how dreadful it truly was. The Master appeared again, His great head cocked as if in question. The boy stared into those eyes and knew himself known fully and intimately, yet felt himself loved infinitely, even so. His gaze fell to the ever-dripping wound that marred that glorious side, a wound taken to spare Jace the unending dark, that he might be called Child instead of Rebel, Beloved instead of Wretch, that he might have Everything rather than Nothing. His heart ached with an agony of understanding, shame, and remorse. He had not made himself, the world, or anything in it, what right had he to say he was anything at all? To think he could be content in and of himself? He was nothing, would inherit Nothing, if that were his wish, but it was not so any longer.

He was on his knees, weeping bitterly, what hope was there for such a wretch as he? He felt the gentle touch of a velvet nose and then all comfort and joy washed over him. It was gone, all of it! The shame, the guilt, the doubt, the fear! All plunged forever into the Nothing and forgotten, only the love and the joy and the peace remained, and a grateful sense of newfound humility and childlike wonder. Then there was nothing but an all-consuming light.

Jace wakened to find a grim looking Warrior kneeling beside him, studying his wounds. The man leapt to his feet in astonishment when the boy's gaze met his own, for the lad had been on the brink of death only a moment before, with more bones broken than whole and a nasty head wound besides. But the boy was struggling to sit up, gazing about in wonder and confusion; he met and held the Warrior's gaze, saying, "can you help me stand?"

The man shook his head adamantly and said, "you should be unconscious, if not dead! How can you move at all? Your body was crushed, your bones and spine shattered!"

But the boy only smiled impishly and asked, "I thought your folk believed in miracles? Now come, help me stand or we'll be trapped down here after dark."

The man shook himself and stepped forward to help the boy, who was now sitting up but grimaced in pain as he tried to move his left leg. They both studied it in wonder, for all his other bones seemed miraculously whole, but the great bone in his thigh was still broken. They exchanged a wondering look and a thought flitted errantly through Jace's head, 'lest you grow too confident and forget.' He smiled ruefully and said, "I shouldn't complain of a broken leg when death should have been the price I paid for my idiocy." They shared an understanding laugh and then set to work splinting the leg. Jace looked up hopefully and saw several individuals busy at the top of the gorge. Once the leg was at least temporarily secure, the Warrior called up to his companions above and they cast down several ropes and a canvas sling.

He secured Jace in the stretcher and they began hoisting him aloft, his rescuer climbing slowly alongside, doing his best not to let the unwieldy contraption and its injured occupant swing into the cliff face any more than necessary. At last, after a rather harrowing climb, both were safely on the ground, well away from the ravine. Jace lay helplessly on his back, still restrained in the sling, until someone released him. He heard the sound of approaching feet and someone knelt beside him, though the individual did not seem intent on loosing him.

He heard a morose Jay snap, "Jace, you're an idiot!"

Jace could not help but smile, laugh ruefully, and fully agree, "you are right, and I should be a dead idiot at that."

He heard a gasp of astonishment and then Jay was leaning over him, shock plain on his face; Jace's rueful smile deepened as he realized his friend thought he must be gravely wounded, if not dead. He smiled recklessly back at his astonished friend, who finally managed a wan smile, still too shocked to speak. Finally his rescuer approached to release him from the sling and then helped him awkwardly to his feet, though he put no weight on his bad leg and was forced to lean heavily on the man's shoulders. He counted three of the Brethren atop the gorge, besides for his companion.

He smiled gratefully at his friend, asked he, "who did you tell and what did you tell them?

Jay flung himself at Jace and for a long moment they were lost in a relieved hug, then said he, "I told only the guards at the city gates what was amiss and they accompanied me out here, no one at the keep yet knows. I figured the Oathtaking was still going on and there was no reason to ruin that, especially if there was nothing to be done." He frowned, "how is it you survived? What I saw from up here was bad enough."

The Warrior supporting the invalid frowned and nodded, "I would like to know myself, when I got to the bottom, you were barely breathing and unresponsive, your body was shattered! And to come away with naught but a broken leg? It is a miracle!"

Jace smile wryly, "miracle indeed, but I'd rather tell the tale when everyone who needs or wants to know can hear, so I don't have to tell it fifty times, but let us just say the Master had mercy, far more than I deserved!"

Jay frowned, "the Master? You? I don't believe it!"

Jace grinned, "I don't believe it myself, but it is still true."

He shivered and his companions suddenly remembered he was injured and had had a rather trying day. They wrapped him up in several cloaks, secured him in the back of a pony cart with Jay beside him, and headed back to Astoria, a far more cheerful party than that which had come to fish his broken body out of the bottom of the gorge. Even though Jay had told no one, someone must have overheard, for by the time they reached the castle, the courtyard was crowded with anxious faces, including the Lady herself; Jace's heart sank with grief as he realized the heartache his foolishness had cost so many others, it wasn't only himself that had suffered. He smiled ruefully and offered up a grateful prayer, for the tragedy should have been far worse. The crowd parted, allowing the cart and its escort to enter the courtyard, with many sighs of relief when they saw the boy alive and well. They did not know exactly what had befallen the boy, but rumor had made the tale grim indeed.

Juliene and Brie and Ella hurried to Jace's side as the cart lurched to a stop while Adan smiled joyously from the opposite side, it seemed even tragedy could not bring Briane to forgive Adan, at least not today. Then the entire company crowded around the boy, everyone trying to be heard over everyone else, wishing him well, asking questions, and giving their own take on the matter.

At least the Brethren had tact enough to give him some time and space, the Warrior who had fetched the lad out of the chasm went directly to the Lady and told all he knew. She nodded thoughtfully and then spoke for all to hear, her voice carrying easily over the chaos, "the lad took a grievous fall, but aside from a broken leg, he is in good health and will make a full recovery. Let us give him some space, see to his comfort, and let him tell the tale when he is ready."

Jace gave her a grateful smile as the entire mass withdrew suddenly, like a hand that has touched a hot surface, though his closest friends and family followed closely as two burly Warriors helped him into the Keep. They settled him on a sofa at the back of an empty classroom with a merry fire dancing on the hearth. It was a pleasant chamber, and happily so, for it would be his home until his leg healed. Instead of going from class to class, he would have to allow the classes to come to him, taking in whatever was taught during his residence therein. The Lady followed after, shooing out any well-wishers and the curious who were not closest to him. She studied him for a moment, seemed to read his very soul, and then asked, "are you ready to tell the tale lad, or would you like to rest first?"

The boy said contritely, "I must speak at once Lady, if not for my own sake then for yours, for I know I have tried many hearts grievously this day and for nothing more than my own foolishness." He looked into the eyes of his mother, sister, and dearest friends, and then momentarily returned his gaze to the Lady of Astoria before bowing his head, said he at last, "I was a fool today and should have paid for it with my life." He looked up and smiled sadly, tears glistening unshed in his eyes, "but the Master is merciful." He amusedly noted their astonishment but continued, "I was furious with the Master in particular and the world in general. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right, and I felt I needed to do something or burst.

We rode out, Jay little knowing what I intended but accompanying me for friendship's sake, and I pressed hard for a certain ravine we once explored together. I had something to prove, or so I thought, but in the end I just showed how utterly helpless I truly am, in and of myself." He glanced down at his hands in his lap, as the shame overwhelmed him anew, but remembering it was forgiven and forgotten, he pressed on, knowing he must also forgive himself, "I tried to goad my friend into a sparring match atop a great log that spanned the chasm, but he sensibly refused me. Only then did I realize my arrogance and stupidity in the first place and the precariousness of my own position, for the log was slick with ice and the gorge gaped hungrily beneath me. Trying to get off, I slipped and fell, and knew nothing more."

He turned curious eyes to both Jay and the Warrior who had rescued him, urging them to add their own part to the tale. Jay began, emotion causing his voice to quaver, "he fell. I couldn't climb down to help him, all I saw was him lying bent and broken far below. So I rode back to the city, told the first of the Brethren I saw, and they orchestrated the rest."

Kent, the Warrior, took up the tale, "we all know of that particular ravine, I think every lad in Astoria must explore it at some time or another, and I knew full well that any accident in association with it could not end well. No man can fall that far and live. So we quickly gathered what we needed and set out in all haste with heavy hearts, knowing we only went to retrieve a body." He shook his head in wonder and smiled joyously, "but that is not what we accomplished. I climbed down, finding the boy broken as I had feared, but he was still alive, if barely. I can't explain it. One minute all hope was lost, the next he was awake and trying to sit up of his own accord. It was the strangest and most wonderful thing I have ever witnessed in many a year in this service." He looked to Jace, who alone could finish the tale.

The words caught in his throat, what was he to say of his vision, his shame, his redemption? Perhaps he could tell a small part in a quiet conversation one day, but to tell it in full to so many was impossible, at least at the moment. Overwrought, he said quietly, "the rest I have not the heart, nay the words, to tell. Perhaps one day you will hear some of it, but I cannot yet wrap my mind around it, let alone divulge it to the world. Let me just say that while I lingered on the brink of death, the Master came to me in a vision and utterly changed everything, least of all my injuries." The Brethren present, including the Lady and Adan, smiled knowingly, while the others stared at him as if he were a complete stranger. He smiled ruefully but could say no more.

The Lady broke in, "we shall adjourn to the evening meal and share some of the story with those waiting impatiently to hear it. I shall send someone with a plate of food for you Jace, and then you should probably rest."

He nodded but asked, "might I be allowed to speak alone with my friends and family this night? I won't be able to sleep else."

She smiled shrewdly at him, but said, "I suppose it must be allowed, but keep it short, for you need to sleep."

He grinned gratefully at her, as all withdrew, except Adan. They studied one another for a moment, each smiling like a maniac, before Jace said, "you were right all along, I just wouldn't see it. I was so content and proud in my accomplishments and position in life that I would not see that I was nothing, in and of myself."

Adan smiled warmly, "I am glad you are no longer blind, my friend." He glanced ruefully towards the door, "you do know that this change of heart may well result in social suicide on your part."

Jace laughed, "what is mortal glory compared to that of our Master?"

Adan shook his head in wonder, "you really have changed!"

Jace sobered, "Brie still hasn't forgiven you?"

Adan shook his head sadly, "and I doubt she ever will, unless she changes as utterly as you. Our entire circle was splintering ere I took the Oath, but afterwards, and with this, the whole thing might well fall to pieces."

Jace nodded sadly, "my thoughts exactly, but there is nothing to be done but to let our friends think us mad or fools and allow them to distance themselves if they feel they must." He looked up, hope strong in his eyes, "we must love them regardless, and hope one day they come to understand."

Adan smiled warmly, squeezed his friend's shoulder in farewell, and withdrew quietly from the room, for he had glimpsed Briane peeking furtively in at the far door, a plate of food in her hands. Jace followed his gaze and nodded at his sister. She cautiously surveyed the room anew, only taking a step towards her brother when she was certain Adan had left through the other door. She handed Jace the plate, though with the expression on her face, he was surprised she didn't fling it at him.

Underneath everything, he could see that she was secretly relieved, but there was such a chaos of fury, confusion, and astonishment writhing across her countenance that he was amazed she dared appear at all. He sighed heavily, knowing that she must feel as if she had lost both her beloved and her brother this day, when she had expected only the former; that Jace was alive and relatively well, mattered little, with his sudden change of heart, which could only be viewed as a betrayal of the worst sort, to her, perhaps, his death might truly have been less painful.

At last she growled, "what has gotten into you? You can't take this so-called vision seriously, after all, you had a rather nasty blow to the head! Let things settle down a bit, sort out your thoughts, and then carefully consider the matter. Is this your way of getting Adan back? Would you fling aside everyone else for his sake?"

Jace frowned, "I did not realize I had to fling anyone aside, least of all you. I understand how you feel, I felt that way just this morning, it was what drove me to such an idiotic feat, but I was wrong."

She stared at him as if he had sprouted another eye, so rare was it that he admitted he was mistaken! She scowled at him, "that's it then? You are just going to go on with life as if it were the most natural thing in the world?"

Jace grinned, "what else is to be done? The world won't stop turning for my sake. And yes, I thought I'd go on living, save with a radical change of heart. I was utterly and completely wrong; it was no concussion induced hallucination, but rather more real than waking life!" He looked at her soberly, "and how do you explain the miraculous healing?"

She frowned at him, "what healing? Your leg is broken."

He shook his head, "I had broken nearly every bone in my body; that Warrior did not exaggerate, I was upon the brink of death, but something happened, something amazing to spare me that fate." He smiled ruefully, "the leg was left as a reminder."

She sniffed skeptically, "a reminder of what?"

He said quietly, "my own frailty and helplessness. That all I am is due to Someone else, it has nothing to do with my own innate wonderfulness."

Said she in quiet dread, "and what now?"

He shook his head, but smiled eagerly, "I don't know, but I have an idea." He turned plaintive eyes upon her, "would you really disown me for believing as I do?"

She studied him for a long moment then sighed, "of course not, I'm just furious at Adan right now and his Master by default. He jilted me for the Brethren! How is a woman supposed to live with that? You turning to his side of things is just icing on the cake."

Jace said quietly, "he was intent on this course ere you ever took an interest in him. Is it his fault that you developed feelings for a man who could never be yours? He hurts just as much as you do, if not more, your treatment of him has been abhorrent. He loves you deeply, even if it can never be as a man ought to love a woman."

She stared at him in wonder, as if a fourth eye had joined that newly emerged third one, said she cautiously, "perhaps you are right. I have been so engrossed by my own hurt of late I have been blind to all else. We are still friends, no matter what else happens but I have forgotten that."

Then she frowned accusingly and Jace smiled in sheepish guilt, admitting, "I have tried to distance myself from him as well, for similar reasons, perhaps afraid that his 'nonsense' might rub off on me." He laughed ironically, "and so it has."

She smiled at him, confusion and annoyance still sparkling in her eyes, but it seemed she was beginning to come to terms with all that had happened of late. Said she in farewell, "I am glad to have you back Jace." She vanished out the far door as Ella came in the other.

She looked at him with eyes fit to break his heart, but he knew as a heavy feeling settled into his soul that he would be the one breaking hers. Said she without preamble, "do you really believe all that?"

He looked her somberly in the eye and said, "I do, I was a fool not to see it before, but I will be a fool no longer."

She nodded once, turned away briefly as she schooled her face to neutrality, and said in a far too businesslike manner, "so what of us? Would you give up your education, your dreams, your future, power, influence, wealth, and me, all for the sake of a hallucination secondary to a blow to the head?"

He smiled at her sadly, "they were exciting dreams Ella, but only dreams."

Her face grew stony and her eyes sparkled like ice, said she with all the chill of midwinter, "you could have been a Prince, an esteemed advisor to my father the King! You could be still."

Jace shook his head, "nay my lady, it can never be so, neither between us or with any woman. I know, somehow, that I shall never marry; it is no longer even a consideration."

Her eyes widened, "what then will you do?"

He shook his head, eyes pleading for understanding, "I know not, but romance is not in my future. I hope we can still be friends, you are very dear to me, but I cannot be more to you now than a friend or brother."

Had she been the girl she was when she arrived in Astoria, she would have shrilled imprecations and insults at him, in a most dignified manner of course, and then would have scorned him publicly every chance she got while finding any number of irksome ways to revenge herself upon him, but she was no longer the same girl. She had matured, deepened, and awoken to the fact that she was no longer the most important and only person in the universe. The coldness remained, but lessened significantly, as she nodded dully and said, "I understand." She smiled weakly, "you know, that is the worst excuse a man can give a woman, but I know you are fully sincere." Her grin grew wicked, "else it might have cost you your life."

He raised his hands and feigned terror, "I cry mercy, lady!"

She smiled warmly at him and said, "very well, sir, as you have already danced with death once this day, I shall go easy upon you." Then she frowned thoughtfully, "how is it you can come back so radically changed? To now believe all you once thought ridiculous?"

His smile was rueful in remembrance, said he, "I was so dreadfully wrong it must come as a shock when I repent of my blindness and willful ignorance. Adan has always been open about what he believes and we just accepted it as part of who he is; it is as if I renounced some part of myself and come back to you a different man entirely, or rather that I was suppressing the man I could have been by ignoring that which would imperil my reputation and pride." He shivered, "reputation and pride are of no comfort when all is said and done. They are but a paper shield against a raging fire, and in the eyes of eternity, will last just as long. It is not who you are but Whose, that makes all the difference."

She smiled at him fondly, tousled his hair, and said in parting, "they have made you a veritable philosopher already." She sighed heavily as she turned to go, "it was a wonderful dream Jace, while it lasted."

His mother replaced Ella at his bedside, said she with a heartfelt smile as she squeezed his hand, "I am glad to have you still, my son."

He gazed up at her, joy gleaming in his eyes, he said softly, "to have found you in the first place was a miracle, but this, this is too much!"

She looked down at him, but her thoughts were somewhere far away, perhaps in the happier days of her girlhood before her journey through the valley of sorrow, said she with a sigh, a slight smile of remembrance on her face, "I once believed, you know." He blinked in surprise, in fact he did not, his astonishment deepened her smile, which had grown sad, continued she, "I even brought an exquisite illuminated copy of the Truth with me when I married, the last of my family's treasures. I don't know what happened to it though, when I fled; I left it in its alcove in the library."

Jace frowned, "there's no alcove in the library."

She nodded, her face becoming grim, "he must have had it bricked in, to remove all memory of me." She laughed bitterly, "he probably left the book where it lay and covered it over; it would be like him." She sighed and looked again at her son, her smile growing warm again, "but then, my greatest treasure is something far different than I thought it was in those days. And to come so close to losing it, twice over now, yet to have it restored, as you say, is miracle indeed. Perhaps I should look closer at those words I once held so dear." The sadness returned, "but after everything, how could I believe in love or hope any longer? In such a cruel world, how could there be aught of good?"

They held one another closely for a few minutes, watching the dancing flames, lost in their own thoughts. At last she said, "but there is love and hope and light and good above and beyond all things. You, my dear, are proof enough of that. Yes, I have struggled and sorrowed, but so too has the Maker of all things, if the stories be true. Who better to understand my own heartache? Yes child, I will look again into those things I once held dear, and perhaps this time my faith will not be so fickle and vain a thing." She kissed him lightly on the forehead and withdrew as the Lady of Astoria herself entered.

She smiled amusedly as the boy flinched and instinctively tried to rise, broken leg forgotten in his distress. She motioned for him to remain where he was, as she settled into an adjacent chair, studying him with those far too intent, knowing eyes. Said she at last, "I shall be the last of your callers this night; you must rest." He nodded and she continued, "it has been quite a day for you no doubt, and the days that follow will be full of questions, doubts, and fears with which you must wrestle, but we are called to seek answers to those things that trouble us rather than to sit idly and pretend our faith is perfect and never falters, for that will soon kill it, whereas wrestling with various challenges will keep it sharp and strong, though never perfect, at least this side of eternity, nor will you find all the answers you seek, for there are some things we simply do not know or cannot yet understand."

He stared at her, aghast, never thinking to hear such words from the Lady of Astoria herself, but in his heart he knew them true and far from heretical. He had always assumed faith meant believing something without question or qualm, rather it meant believing something without a full understanding, yet trusting that one day full revelation would come, and in the meantime seeking answers as best you could while still trusting the One by Whom revelation would come.

She let him process this startling revelation for a moment and then continued, "you have many gifts and talents child, as we discussed previously, and the Master will use them for His own purposes, if you will let Him, but it does not come without a cost. What that will be, none can yet say, but to you much has been given and thus much will be required. Are you sure you want to go through with this?" He nodded, eyes wide but determination burning keenly in his eyes. She smiled at his zealousness and continued, "very well, I will tell you what little I know; for more we must wait for time to reveal what it will. You will be confined to this room until your leg heals, probably for several months. After that, you may resume your usual course of study, should you wish it. While you are thus confined, you will attend the classes given by whomever happens to be teaching in this room that particular day.

Your friends and family may certainly visit you, but there will be much time in which you are alone. I would recommend," she smiled wryly at this, knowing her suggestions were as good as commands to most of those residing in Astoria, "that during your erstwhile seclusion, you begin a thorough study of the Truth, supplemented with various readings that your teachers will recommend. Initiating a routine of prayer, meditation, and fasting might also prove beneficial."

He nodded thoughtfully, but a slight frown creased his brow, said he, "Lady, is this a common practice amongst your new initiates?"

She steadily met his gaze and said solemnly, "it is encouraged certainly, but in your case, I find myself advising it highly. I cannot order you to do it, for it is of no use unless undertaken with a willing heart, but something tells me it is vital for whatever is to come." Here she paused, as if what next she must impart troubled her deeply, at last she said quietly, "I do not know where your heart lies in regards to the Brethren. It has been far too exciting of a day for you to have given it any serious thought, I am sure, but there is something else you must know. This day you have surrendered yourself to the Master, heart and soul, but should you seek to take your Oath, I must, at least at present, deny you."

These words momentarily stunned him, for he thought the Brethren would accept anyone of a willing heart, but something deep within his heart of hearts echoed her words as truth, in the same way he knew he would never marry, so too did he know that her words sprang from something deeper than any mistakes or shortcomings on his part, thus was his vanity spared, not that much remained of it after his interview with the Master. Said he at long last, "I understand." He smiled wryly, "a day ago I would have never dreamed of asking it, and yet now I cannot fathom why such is denied me when all comers are usually accepted."

She smiled at him, a strange excitement barely perceptible in her eyes, said she, "I have my ideas, but you must be patient. Get some sleep," she paused, her smile knowing indeed, "if you can." She vanished from the room, leaving Jace to mull over her peculiar words long into the night, wondering what the future held.

The following day, Jace discovered exactly what it was his peculiar adventure had earned him, at least academically. The room was used primarily for the advanced students of theology, philosophy, and the related arts, most of whom were or would one day become Apprentices of the Brethren. He was heartened to find Adan in several of his classes, an occurrence which had become rare of late, as their interests and future intentions had sharply diverged and thus, so did their classes. They worked together on several projects, discussed what it was they had learned that day over their meals, and exchanged books and notes that they found interesting or helpful. And strangely, Jace had never been more eager or interested in his studies before, though he had previously been an exemplary student; now he found himself ravenous for anything and everything he could learn from his teachers, friends, or books. Happily did he undertake the Lady's suggestion and found himself quite content therein.

But the strangest occurrence of the day was a newly sworn Apprentice, called Hawk, lingering in the room after the last class session before lunch. While Adan went off to fetch food for the both of them, the other Apprentice stood awkwardly off to one side, as if unsure how to approach his onetime rival. Jace caught his eye and smiled openly, which did much to relax the apprehensive Hawk, who then approached with a sheepish smile.

Said he, glancing about to ensure they were alone, "I know we have not always seen eye to eye."

Jace grinned ironically at this understatement, for the boy was the veritable leader of the cohort of Students that had either ignored or abhorred him. Jace had never openly opposed them, but they disdained having anything to do with him, one way or another, and he happily returned the favor. He nodded encouragingly, while the Apprentice studied his boots for a moment before continuing.

Said he, "yesterday everything changed, not just with my taking the Oath or your seeming change of heart, but rather, when we thought you severely injured, or worse, it all just melted away, for all of us, the jealousy, the impotent frustration, everything. We knew ourselves in the wrong, wretchedly so, and to think we might never have a chance to tell you! It was awful."

Jace nodded, "I understand, after seeing what my own recklessness had cost my friends and family, I can certainly imagine how you felt."

Heartened, Hawk continued, "you never boasted or treated others with disdain or scorn, thus you might have earned our contempt, but rather we were mostly jealous, our own vanity was injured by your success, and we held you responsible for our feelings of inferiority, though it was no fault of yours. I come on behalf of all who once opposed you, can you forgive us?"

Jace smiled broadly, "with all my heart." His smile became wry, "I can relate, for only yesterday did I fully feel my own inferiority and helplessness, naked before the Master."

Hawk shivered, "I am glad we need only be humbled before a fellow man!"

Jace asked teasingly, "so, was this contrition also brought on by your new status as one of the Brethren?"

Hawk smiled heartily, "I suppose it is befitting one of the Brethren to do so," he paused and his smile turned sheepish, "but no, I cannot say it was brought about by any sudden maturity on my part."

They chatted affably for a few more minutes, until Adan returned with their food, at which point Hawk bowed in farewell and went in search of his own midday meal. Adan was astonished at the reason for the other Apprentice's visit and said as much to Jace, "I think your previous social achievements are about to be turned on their head. Those who once looked at you askance will now call you friend, while those that once looked up to you will soon forget why," he grinned impishly, "fanatic that you are." He narrowed his eyes, "have you thought of making it official?"

Jace sighed heavily, wondering how to broach the subject to his dearest friend, having no certain answers himself, said he, "I toyed with the idea on the ride back to the keep, but afterwards it was made clear to me that it could not be so, at least not yet."

Adan frowned, "could not or would not?"

Jace grinned sheepishly, "it is not recalcitrance on my part this time, the Lady herself said she must deny me should I ask it and somehow I know she is right." He averted his eyes, "the same way I know I cannot ever marry."

Adan whistled in astonishment, knowing the Lady denied no one with a willing heart, ever, and also at Jace's sudden discloser of Ella's predicament, for since her interview with Jace she had been as distant as Briane of late, though Brie had sought him out over breakfast and apologized for her behavior, hoping they could still be friends. Now it was Ella who would be sulking over thwarted love! Sometimes he found women more baffling than the most puzzling stanza of the Truth. But then he had seen Ella making eyes at several of the nobly born Students as he assembled their lunch tray, perhaps she was not near so heartsick as Briane thought herself. He mentioned as much to Jace.

Jace said with a knowing smile, "she was fond of me, of that I am sure, but was far more in love with her dream; we shall remain friends, though perhaps more indifferent than not, but neither of us was really 'in love,' at least as the poets put it. It would have been a good match, a pleasant life, but hardly food for the bards." He evenly met Adan's gaze and smiled sadly, "nothing like what you and Brie share."

Adan mirrored his smile, saying, "at least we have come to an understanding, something she could not or would not do previously. It is a sore loss, but worse still would have been my betraying my calling." He grinned mischievously, "and who is to say all hope is lost? I thought without a doubt that she would change her mind long before you changed yours."

Jace laughed, "it took a miracle for me to see the light, my friend, but then that is Whom we serve, and in Him, hope springs eternal."

His friends all joined him for the evening meal, all except Ella that is, she was off a-courting in earnest, though she had stopped in briefly to give her excuses, at which all exchanged an amused, knowing look, which vexed her but she had her duties as much as they theirs, thus did she console herself. There was still some awkwardness between Brie and Adan, their banter seemed forced and their conversation centered inanely around the weather, but superficially things were back to normal, but Jace well knew that things could never be as they once had been. They were still friends, would always be friends, but the most important thing in the world, and beyond it, gaped like a bottomless chasm between them with he and Adan on one side and the others still on the far side. The things that had once been important to Jace no longer mattered while his new preferences for conversational topics bored silly everyone but Adan, while the rather insipid gossip of happenings within the student population, which he once counted as the highlight of his day, no longer held any interest for him.

He exchanged a questioning gaze with Adan, who only shook his head and smiled, long used to that which Jace was only beginning to discover. His world had indeed turned on its head. At last Brie pled weariness and withdrew, while Adan disappeared towards the library in search of certain books he had promised to find for Jace, leaving only Jay alone with Jace, a circumstance they both found strangely awkward, for he alone had not come the previous night. He began to glance significantly at the door when he was not studying the carpet while shifting uneasily from one foot to the other. At last he looked over Jace's shoulder and said, "so that's it then? You've given up everything for _them_?"

Jace grinned in that irksome way peculiar to himself, "given up what for whom?"

Jay frowned, "you are throwing away all your potential to join the Brethren!"

Jace shook his head, "I am doing no such thing."

Jay's frown deepened, "not joining the Brethren or throwing your skills away?"

Jace's grin became mischief itself, "neither, I have been gifted with much and the Master will use it as He deems best, but I do not foresee taking my Oath anytime soon either."

Jay shook his head as if he were utterly confused, only deepening Jace's smile, but at last he said, "why not? I thought all you fanatics could not help but join up with such a merry crew?"

Jace shrugged, "I have no idea, but it is not to be."

This only confused Jay the more but it seemed there was no getting a straight answer out of Jace, a trait which he thought, ironically, was quite befitting of one of the Brethren. Said he, "are you really giving up your pursuit of Ella?"

Jace looked rather surprised, for Brie asserted that the girl was blatantly flirting with anyone in Astoria who was male, nobly born, and not sworn to the Brethren, but he said, "she would make an uneasy peddler's wife."

Jay took offense, "who is to say I don't aspire to be more myself?"

Jace grinned, much like his old self, somewhat disarming his vexed companion, "as of yesterday that had been your intention."

Jay said loftily, but with a hint of a smile, "perhaps, but as you have demonstrated, much can change in a day."

Jace smiled openly, "then I wish you well with all my heart, if only you can charm your way past her determination to win a man nobly born."

Jay sighed, "there is that I suppose, but it is far less a hindrance than you."

Jace laughed, "I was a hindrance then?"

Jay smiled ruefully, "I didn't mean it that way, and you know it! You were my friend and I wouldn't dare interfere with a lady who was certainly yours."

Jace sobered, "why are you speaking of our friendship in the past tense?"

Jay studied the carpet anew, saying tenuously without meeting Jace's gaze, "what I saw yesterday was really awful, terrible even. It disturbed me in ways I do not yet understand."

Jace frowned, "the near death of a friend or something else?"

Jay met his gaze, hesitantly and certainly embarrassed, but at least he looked Jace in the eye, "thinking you dead was bad enough, but to see you alive and whole, and well...so different is even worse. Just being around you is unsettling; I can't do it anymore."

Jace smiled sadly in understanding, having felt the same around Adan, if only minutely, but he knew what Jay was saying: he felt something pulling at his heart, something deep calling out to the deeps of his soul. And he was terrified of answering that call, of abandoning all he was and had and might be to become something he could not yet understand. It took Jace literally losing everything to even listen to that call, and when he did, he had to admit how utterly wretched and lost he truly was, and that the only hope lay outside himself, but in that moment he had also discovered that what he had previously admired and loved so much, was in truth a rather fickle and silly thing, for here was true Meaning and Purpose, Grace and Love. He had given up nothing and was heir to Everything.

Jace nodded, saying with all his heart, "I understand Jay, truly I do." He smiled in spite of himself, "and believe it or not, I know exactly what you are going through. But you cannot run from Him, for He will pursue. You can ignore, refuse, and delay, but you can neither hide nor avoid Him. I wish you well in whatever it is you intend, but know I shall always be your friend, even if you cannot continue to be mine."

Jay smiled sadly, "this is the hardest thing I've ever done, you are the best friend I've ever had, but I can't be around you anymore. Perhaps one day your words will prove true, but not today or anytime soon, if I have any say in the matter. Until that day, fare you well!" With that, he turned quickly and fled the room. Jace watched him go with a heavy heart, but a strangely content and slightly amused smile on his face, whatever betide, he knew the foe from which Jay fled with all his might and he also knew how implacable was that 'Enemy.' The boy might flee to the ends of the earth, but He would be awaiting him there.

Adan soon returned, a stack of books in hand, smiling knowingly at his friend, he set down his burden within easy reach of the invalid and said, "so now Jay is the one running away?"

Jace smiled wanly, "with all his being."

Adan nodded, "you weren't quite such a coward, at least until the very end."

Jace studied his hands, "I am sorry for that, distancing myself from you as the Oathtaking approached."

Adan squeezed his shoulder and grinned, "I know, I never took it personally, I know how it both draws and repels, and you being who you are, could not help but take a fright and try to get away." He laughed, "and see where it landed you."

Jace looked up, smiling, "exactly where I would have been had I agreed from the start, save the broken leg." His smile became sad, "it seems now you are my only friend."

Adan shook his head, "there are far more that care for you than you think, remember everyone waiting anxiously after your fall? People just need time to adjust to sudden changes. You'll find friends you never knew you had and your old ones just need time to get used to the idea." He smiled, "or deal with their own issues first. Every Apprentice goes through the exact same adjustment after their Oath; it is just another life stage, a beginning of one thing and an ending of another: awkward, terrifying, and exciting all at once."

Jace leaned back on the sofa, smiling slightly, remembering Hawk's unanticipated words. Adan was right; he would get through this and be a better man for it. He sat up and took up the books Adan had lain down. He glanced through the titles, recognizing most of them as recommended reading by either Adan, the Lady, or their various instructors, but there were two books he did not recognize.

Adan saw his frown of consternation and commented, "those two are a puzzle to me as well. One of the servants met me in the hall on my way back and said you had best look through them, though I can't imagine how reading a two volume exposition on advanced mathematical theorems is to prove useful, unless you are having trouble going to sleep that is."

Jace looked up in astonishment, for the books appeared to have nothing whatsoever to do with arithmetic but rather were a two volume set of stories and legends titled, 'The Shadow of the Unicorn,' but Adan was plainly looking at the cover and still thought it a mathematics text? He thought about saying something, but again, that unshakable certainty stirred within his soul and bid him hold his tongue. He laid the books aside and their conversation turned to other topics until it was time for bed. Adan bid him goodnight, and once he was gone, Jace drew out the puzzling books and began to read.

Jace did not sleep that night, for the stories themselves riveted him to the page until he had finished them in their entirety, but they also stirred such unsettling and exciting thoughts in his mind and soul that sleep would have been impossible anyway. He would have to read the books again to glean more detail, but from what he had perused, the future would be interesting indeed, if it were true. The disparity in his perception of the texts and that of Adan was also troubling him, he could easily believe that it was magic, but the Brethren were the antithesis of the magicians and sorcerers the old housekeeper believed them to be. So what exactly was going on? A throat cleared and he looked up from his study of the befuddling books to see a servant standing at the door, the same who had escorted him into the castle upon his arrival in Astoria.

Said the man without preamble, once he had the lad's attention, "you look like you've had a rough night lad." He smiled in amusement, "up all night reading when you ought to be sleeping?"

The boy blinked at him blankly, what was going on? The servants technically outranked the Students in Astoria and often sent them on errands or set them extra tasks if they felt you were wasting time or fooling around, though friendly and ever happy to answer a question, they did not typically fraternize with the Students. The man's smile deepened with the boy's confusion and he continued, "you'll understand soon enough lad, the Truth has a way of asserting itself when it will. Don't worry over the strangeness of those books, it will make sense eventually, but know full well that the tales are true and your own story may well be tangled up in them." Jace opened his mouth to speak but the man was gone. He frowned the more, put the books away, and tried to smile casually at his sister when she brought him his breakfast tray, more confused than ever.

He learned very little in his morning classes as his mind was busy mulling over the puzzle, and by the time Adan sat beside him as they devoured their midday meal, the shock and befuddlement had begun to wear off and his mind churned eagerly with what lay between the covers of the two mysterious volumes. Could it really pertain to himself? What was his part in those strange and wonderful tales?

So inward focused was he that at last Adan commented, "you are certainly quiet today." He grinned, "are those math books giving you something fascinating to think about?" Jace shook himself back to reality, smiled good-naturedly at his friend, and tried to think of something else to talk about.

The days eventually settled into a rhythm all their own for Jace with classes during the day, various friends and family visiting him in the early evening, and then a few hours dedicated to study, meditation, and prayer before bed. He smiled in spite of himself, thinking he could not have found a better way to attend to the requisite reflection and study necessary to his new life, or what would be his new life once his leg healed, had he hied himself into the lonely hills for a sixth month sabbatical at some forgotten hermitage. He had many questions to answer, personal and emotional issues to deal with, and much to learn, and he did so with a will, for it seemed nothing else would slake his now ravenous thirst for such wisdom. Even his social life began to sort itself out, removed as he was from the general population of Astoria, he did not have to witness the death of his once adored public persona, rather other Students rose up to take his place of prominence and strangely, he did not mind, rather he grew closer to some, including Hawk and some of his cohort, with whom he had hardly interacted before while those who had once adored him were all but absent.

He was now something of an outcast and a pariah among the Students in general, having once danced confidently at the peak of social enterprise only to cast it all aside to molder in anonymity among the Brethren and their initiates, yet failing even to properly join ranks with them. They turned their attention and worship elsewhere while Jace dug himself ever deeper into the legends and stories that now consumed him. He found much to discuss with the various Apprentices that kept him company, but he sorely felt the strain with his sister, having so little now in common, for she chatted blithely about the latest social intrigue within the castle but cared nothing for philosophy; Ella and Jay had long since ceased to even visit, busy with their own pursuits. But at last the day came when the doctor said he might try the leg, and after two months of inactivity, it was a momentous occasion, though his muscles and physical strength had atrophied with his enforced inactivity, the leg held and he was allowed to hobble about on crutches until he was strong enough to walk on his own.

He returned to the general student population with hardly a ripple when once his mere entrance into the dining hall caused a tidal wave of interest, but aside for the varied greetings and well wishes on his recovery, thereafter he was roundly ignored, save for those closest to him. He smiled ruefully, but bore it well, having come to peace with the idea over the last couple months. Each day he pushed himself a little harder, trying to regain the strength and skills his recovery had sapped, but it was still early autumn before he could comfortably sit a horse, endure a sparring match, or even dash across the courtyard, but in the end most of his strength and skill returned, though he still had a slight limp and feared it might be so for the rest of his life.

As his physical self improved daily and his mind continued to grow and expand with his grueling course of study, he was rather content in his progress, but at last the day came when his physical recovery began to plateau and he wondered what next to do with himself. He would have taken his Oath that moment were it an option, but alas it was forbidden him. He began to grow restless, questioning his very purpose and direction; he had spent months recovering and preparing himself, but for what? Was he ever to be just a pupil with no place among either the Students or the Apprentices?

"It is time Lady," said the servant as he stood boldly before his mistress, "the lad has fully recovered physically and emotionally, and he begins to grow restless in this continuing limbo. He must be allowed to make his decision."

She intently studied the man before her, little knowing how to answer him, for she knew almost nothing of that which he asked. A collection of old stories, a few hints hidden in the writings of her predecessors, and the little he had told her upon her assumption of this position were all she knew of what he asked. She hated to lose the most promising Student to come to Astoria in the last century, but there was no doubt this lad's life was tangled up in far greater things; she had no choice. She nodded solemnly and said, "do as you must, for I know little enough of the matter. My servants are yours to command and the Keep is at your disposal." He bowed deeply and excused himself from her presence; she smiled wryly at his retreating back, for it seemed there were things to which even the Lady of Astoria was not privy.

Jace was just shutting the door of the room he now shared with Adan, Jay having been assigned a new roommate in his absence, when a Warrior suddenly loomed over him. The boy blanched in surprise but hastily offered the requisite courtesies before trying to dart past the man, lest he be late for class, but the man put a steadying hand on his shoulder and said, "easy lad, you will be coming with me." The boy paled again, had he done something wrong? The man smiled, "you are not in trouble, at least that I am aware of, though my orders are certainly strange, but obey them we must. Put your things away and accompany me to the dungeons."

Jace frowned in consternation, the dungeon?! But he immediately obeyed, following in the Warrior's wake, resigned to his fate like one condemned to the gallows, his mind reeling with terror and excitement. They came silently to the door leading down to the dungeons to find the strange servant awaiting them. He said to the Warrior, "make sure no one is lurking about down there and then return to me to ward the door. No one is to go in or out for three days." Jace did not like the sound of this at all. His mind raced, trying to determine what he had done to deserve three days in the dungeons.

Once the man had vanished down the stairs and the door was firmly shut behind him, the servant turned to Jace and said, "fear not lad, you are not in trouble, rather you have an important decision to make and must do so undisturbed. You will find a water jug, candles, a copy of the Truth, and a chair in one of the cells below. Lock yourself in for a time of prayer, fasting, and meditation. I cannot tell you what this is about, not yet, but that you will soon discover for yourself."

The guard returned saying there was no one below. The servant nodded, ordered the man to stand guard, and motioned for the boy to do as he had been bidden. Jace exchanged a puzzled look with the guard but immediately descended and secured himself in the prepared cell, glancing about ruefully at his strange predicament, wondering what on earth was going on. With a shrug, he knelt in the straw and began to pray. An old barrel sat off to one side, Brie raised the lid slightly, glanced about, smiled eagerly, and then resumed her hiding place, determined to discover what it was the Lady and that odd servant intended for her confused brother.

There was no way to measure time in that place, and for Briane, the wait was interminable, and as the hours passed in excruciating slowness, she sorely wished that she had chosen a less cramped hiding place. Jace had no idea what to expect, but soon lost himself in his prayers, becoming unaware of anything else around him. The tales in those mysterious books echoed in the back of his mind while he tried to focus on the matter at hand. Brie was convinced she had already been secreted in that barrel for three days, though it was closer to twelve hours, when she decided to have another peek and see if there was any sense to her brother allowing himself to be hidden away in this miserable basement for so long. She lifted the lid to glance about, saw a brilliant flash of light, and then the entire barrel, girl and all, toppled over and there was nothing but darkness.

Jace was aware of nothing except the Light; he had once seen the Master in a vision upon the brink of death, but it was nothing like this. Then He had been terrifying to an unrepentant mortal soul, but still in a form that was somewhat comprehensible to a mortal mind; this permutation was anything but fathomable to a mortal man, for no man could look upon Him and live. There was nothing but Light: no dungeon, no Jace, no Astoria, no mortal world, no life, death, or time, just Light, radiant, blinding, glorious Light. It unmade him in a moment, but it was also the Power that had made the worlds and therefore he need have no fear. He knew he yet existed in some form or other, yet he did not care, for all his focus was completely on the Radiance before him and thus could he dwell quite contentedly for all eternity, yet there was something more to be done, something yet to be asked.

There were no words in that place and thought expressed itself in light, but somehow he knew, knew far better than he had ever known anything before, in whatever had come before This, for This was all he knew or wanted, but there was something he must yet do. But would he? Could he leave, go back, return to what was before?

Jared rounded the corner at a trot, so startling the man on guard outside the dungeon door that he instinctively reached for his sword but relaxed as he saw who his indecorous visitor was. Said the servant with dread, "I must pass."

The Warrior eyed him in surprise, saying, "but my orders are that none might enter or leave until a full three days have passed."

Jared nodded impatiently, "and I must countermand them, at least in this instance, for something has gone awry."

Sensing the truth in the man's words, and secretly wondering how a mere servant could contradict orders supposedly given by the Lady herself, the man stepped aside to let the anxious Jared pass. He hastened through the lower door and his heart caught in his throat, the empty cell where the boy should have been gave him no pause but the toppled barrel and prone girl were tragedy indeed, worse, since she was the boy's sister. Jared knelt beside her and smiled in relief to feel a pulse, but she lay unmoving and unresponsive to any stimulation. He shook his head, scooped her up, and carried her up the stairs and out the door, past the flummoxed watchman.

The guard said in astonishment, "what is this?"

Jared shook his head grimly, "there is a reason none are allowed below, save the one involved in the matter. The girl is fortunate to be alive! Only time will tell if and how much she will recover." He smiled in spite of himself, "she is an intrepid though sometimes foolish creature. She minds me much of her brother."

The guard nodded, "and the boy?"

Jared shook his head, "we must wait until the allotted time has passed to know for sure what will come of him." He nodded a farewell to the Warrior and turned to go when suddenly Juliene was beside him, her shriek of grief like a knife in his heart.

She burst out, "what has happened? First my son and now this?!"

Jared said grimly, sympathy strong in his voice, "easy madam, your daughter lives but only time will tell what will come of both your children. She hid herself in anticipation of watching things she was forbidden from seeing, and for very good reason, her intrepidness should have cost her her life, but she lives still."

Juliene touched her daughter's warm but slack hand, a tear trickling down one cheek, said she with a sad smile, "she was always one to find a way in where she was not supposed to be; poor, silly girl! We had best see to her comfort. Do you think she will waken? What of my son?"

A wan, sympathetic smile graced his lips as he said, "aye madam, if she were not meant to waken and live, she would not have survived her foolishness. Your son will emerge, or not, at the appointed time, until then we must be patient, for none can know his fate until then." She nodded glumly but led the way to where he might lay the girl, that she might recover as she would, for in her distress, Juliene must be busy else she would fall apart. Briane lay quietly on her sickbed, unmoving and breathing easily, as one peacefully asleep but nothing would waken her. The Lady herself came to see the distressed Juliene and her daughter, giving Jared a stern, wondering glance as she entered. He shook his head sadly but there was nothing else to be done.

The hours passed slowly, the girl slept on unawares, and those awaiting the appointed time sorely felt each minute. At last, Jared rose from his chair, saying, "it is time. I will fetch the lad, if such can be done." The Lady and Juliene exchanged a pained look, to which Jared replied, "if he emerges, he will be several days in recovering, any amount of stress or excitement could have tragic results. I will send word if all is well, but I advise that he not be told of his sister at the first nor that he have any visitors."

Said the Lady, "I do not fully know what this is all about, but you will bring the boy to me first thing."

He turned astonished eyes upon his mistress, but dared not defy the iron in her voice, bowing deeply he said, "as you wish it my Lady, but pray let there be no one else present save ourselves and mention nothing that will distress the lad." She nodded grimly, he bowed, and vanished from the room.

Juliene turned to the Lady, forgetting decorum in her angst, demanded she, "what is this about? What is so important that it might well cost me both my children? Why all the secrecy and dire consequences?"

The Lady put a gentle hand on the distraught lady's shoulder and whispered, "I know little of the matter child, save that it is of the utmost importance, and I do not believe it shall deprive you of either child. Patience, and we shall soon know more. I will send word immediately as to how matters stand with your son. Remain with Briane, I will go to meet our intrepid servant and your son." Juliene collapsed in a chair, her face in her hands, and for the first time in a very long time, she allowed herself to weep like a heartbroken child. The Lady gave her a sad smile she never saw and silently left the room.

Jared returned to the door leading down to the dungeons, told the guard that none should descend until he had emerged, and eagerly hastened down the stairs in hopes of seeing something that had not happened in two hundred years. He opened the lower door and an awful light filled the stairwell; he smiled for very joy, hastily entered, and closed the door behind him. He took up a dark cloak that hung upon a hook near the door where he had placed it in preparation three days prior. Taking the keys, he unlocked the cell from which the literally blinding light radiated, though it was growing less intense by the moment. He opened the door to reveal the radiant form of a boy, prone upon the flagstones. Quickly he knelt beside the unmoving Jace and draped the cloak about his shoulders.

It was cold, it was dark, it was hard, and he had never felt so stiff or uncomfortable, even after his fall into the gorge. But then that had merely been a brush with death, this was something else entirely; he wasn't even sure what it was, but he had never been so disoriented or befuddled. He felt a presence beside him and something dark and heavy fell across his back. He blinked awake and forced himself to sit up, a process which required far too much assistance from the unknown other, who said in a jovial but quiet voice, "easy lad. Concentrate, that's it, I know it is hard to come back, but you can do it."

They sat for some moments as the boy collected what he could of his bearings, still completely puzzled by his sudden transition from one reality to another and then back again. He looked at the other, stared blankly for a moment, then frowned in consternation, croaked he, "I know you?"

Jared smiled and said, "aye lad, not so well as you one day will, but we have met on occasion. How are you feeling?"

The boy thought vaguely for a long moment, as if trying to understand the question, and at last said with a wan smile, "awful."

The man laughed, "perfectly normal under the circumstances, but fear not, you'll be feeling yourself again in a few days."

Jace frowned again as he studied the man, "you are glowing!" He shook his head as if trying to remember what was normal in this particular reality.

The man laughed, "not half so much as you lad, concentrate."

The boy's eyes widened as he took in the truth of the matter. There was a radiance about his person that would have blinded anyone who happened to glance his direction, and which seemed to cause an echoing luminescence to radiate from his companion. Not exactly sure what the man was talking about or what was going on, he did as he was bidden and the light suddenly vanished, from both their persons. He smiled wanly and his companion returned a whole-hearted smile.

"Good, lad," said he, "now can you stand?"

Stand? He remembered standing once, eons ago, could he still do it? There was only one way to find out. With Jared's help, he awkwardly gained his feet and stood unsteadily for a moment as he regained his balance, feeling as awkward as a newborn colt. They exchanged a wry grin, and once the boy felt both his balance and confidence return, they tried a few stumbling steps. It took them well over an hour to get out of the dungeon, but at last they made it to the top of the stairs where the curious guard awaited them, a smile on his face to see them at last, though he wondered why it had taken so long and why the lad stumbled about as one new to his legs. Jared said to the flummoxed guard, "please inform the lad's mother that he is well." The man nodded and dashed off immediately while the unwieldy pair continued on to find the Lady.

Apprentice:

They found the Lady awaiting them in an informal sitting room, hiding both her burning curiosity and mild irritation behind a face of placid patience. She greeted the peculiar servant and his weary companion with a slight nod as the boy collapsed in a chair while Jared gave the necessary courtesies. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, but remembered the man's warning that the boy would be rather disoriented for a time after his trial, whatever it was, and this seeming affront must therefore be laid at the feet of whatever currently afflicted the boy. She studied him briefly, frowning slightly at the heavy cloak he wore despite being indoors, and then turned her attention back to Jared, said she, "I see he has emerged."

Jared smiled wryly, "aye Lady, and as I said, a little worse for wear, but nothing a little rest will not set aright."

She raised an eyebrow, "and just what is going on in the lowest levels of my Keep?"

The servant shook his head, "I have told you all I can my Lady."

She took a chair with a heavy sigh, said she, "to think there are things within Astoria to which even I am not privy!" She smiled wryly, "the Brethren would think it scandalous."

Jared smiled openly, "that they would my Lady, but you need fear no nefarious business as we are all servants of the same Master." He bowed deeply, "we answer to you as well."

She arched an eyebrow, "do you now? I thought you were the one giving the orders of late?"

He bowed again, "there are rare occasions when it must be so, I fear, but in general we are ever at your command."

She smiled in amusement, "I see," while studying the boy anew, her smile vanishing as something suddenly registered, she had noticed it previously but only now realized its significance. The boy slumped in his chair, little noticing what passed between his companions, seemingly focused on his own thoughts, but there was no mistaking that he was now numbered amongst the Brethren. In all the strangenesses of the day, she must have overlooked this small fact, which was not surprising when everyone all but assumed of late that he was of their number, save he had not taken the Oath. She shook her head in astonishment, "how can this be? He was forbidden from taking the Oath yet here he is numbered amongst us?"

Jared quashed a vastly amused smile and said as seriously as he could, "it was the Master Himself, my Lady." Suddenly he shifted, seeming to grow taller, less grizzled, and thirty years younger while also bearing the unmistakable signs that he too was of that brotherhood. The Lady was quite happy she was already sitting, for this revelation might well have collapsed her in a chair had she not been. She sat up and studied him with incredulity, all the while he grinned like an impish child.

At last she sat back and shook her head in wonder, "how can this be?"

He smiled mysteriously, like a cat that will never divulge its secrets, and said, "that I cannot tell you Lady, but know it is of the Master's doing, and we are technically a part of the Brethren."

She smiled wryly, "technically?"

He shrugged, "for all intents and purposes, yes, but in certain circumstances our orders come from the Master Himself and supersede even your own."

She shook her head in wonder, "am I ever to know the truth of the matter?"

Jared shifted again, and suddenly he was again the man she had always thought him to be, said he, "I am only allowed to reveal so much Lady, and that solely because you are the Lady of Astoria. Even his own kin cannot know half so much, the rest of our comrades, even less so."

She nodded and said, "I suppose we had best get the lad to bed. Why is he so dreadfully listless? What happened in my dungeon? What did his sister see and what happened to her?"

Jared's eyes widened in horror as Jace jerked violently at mention of his sister, no longer indifferent to all that passed about him. The servant barked, "Lady, turn away and cover your eyes!" while simultaneously leaping atop the boy and drawing the heavy cloak about him as that awful light threatened to break forth anew. "Easy lad," soothed he, "your sister is well, easy."

The Lady did immediately as she was bidden, horrified that she had slipped so terribly, wondering what tragedy it might wreak. Even with her eyes closed, covered with her hands, and her back turned, she felt rather than saw a dreadful light, knowing full well that it would have blinded her had she not obeyed that very instant, beginning to understand what it was the girl had glimpsed.

Jace had been listening vaguely to their conversation, paying little heed to what passed between them, rather trying to focus his own wandering thoughts and befuddled mind. Then he heard mention of his sister, he had a sister, Briane, that was it, but what had the Lady said, she had been there when...no! It could not be...it must not be! He lost what little concentration he had had and immediately the light within him burst forth, so carefully concealed since they left the cell, but now a danger to anyone who even glimpsed it, but Jared was suddenly there and his calming words soon brought the boy back to himself, quieted his reeling mind, and with it his concentration returned, at least enough that he could drape that deadly light again in shadow. He looked up in horror, his eyes pleading understanding.

Jared smiled gently and reassured, "easy lad, it is not your fault. It will take you some time to readjust, and you yet know nothing of the quest upon which you have just embarked. We'll get you to bed soon enough."

He relaxed instantly, nodding like a sleepy, comforted child in his father's arms, falling again into his half-somnolent contemplations. Jared looked to the Lady and said just as gently, "you may look, my Lady, it has passed."

She turned back towards the man, a plaintive look on her face, at which the man smiled and said, "no harm done, thank the Master, but as you can see, the boy is not himself, yet."

Her eyes narrowed, "you said he must readjust? To what?"

Jared smiled mysteriously, "mortal life. He was, for a time, in the very presence of the Master, in a place outside of time and space, away from the sin, doubt, pain, sorrow, and fear with which mortality is fraught. His mind has been through too much and it needs time to adjust to the confines of this reality once more."

She nodded, her eyes slightly wide, the only sign that this was proving to be a night of enigmas, wonders, and rather than answering her questions, had only birthed a thousand more. Said she at last, "I suppose you had best get him to bed." She smiled ruefully, "after this conversation I feel like I need to do the same!"

Jared bowed, "there is only one other thing I wished to discuss with you Lady." She nodded that he should proceed, said he, "he will need to be apprenticed to someone in the coming days, might I recommend Baye?"

The Lady smiled in amusement, "my foremost Messenger? Why am I not surprised that he is part of your little conspiracy? When he returns, I will do as you ask." She frowned suddenly in remembrance, and said, "am I right in remembering that two hundred years ago, when I was but a Student myself, there was a similar fiasco surrounding him?"

Jared bowed deeply, "it was as you remember it my Lady and there is a reason he is one of your most talented servants."

She smiled at him, "of course you cannot tell me the precise reason but you can hint all you like?"

He nodded, "I see you understand, I bid you goodnight and will see that the lad is settled." She shook her head in wonder but stood in dismissal as he gathered up the compliant lad and vanished out the door. She sat again and spent a good portion of the night staring into the fire, pondering questions that had no answers.

Jared escorted the lad back to his room, or rather half carried him as the boy leant heavily upon him. Adan was still up, unable to sleep with wondering what had come of Jace and having heard that Briane had also suffered some accident but no one was willing or able to say more. When the door burst open and the upstart servant entered, half carrying Jace, Adan leapt to his feet and helped the man settle his friend in his bed. Said the man with a nod, "he'll be very disoriented, easily excitable, and have little energy for several days. Your job is to keep him quiet, comfortable, and oblivious to all else passing in the Keep. He is to have no visitors without my approval, including his mother. If he should become agitated, immediately cover your eyes and turn away from him and send for me with all haste." With these comforting words, he smiled impishly and departed while Adan stared after in complete astonishment before turning wide eyes upon Jace, who was snoring blissfully in his once familiar bed.

Later that night a quiet knock came at the door, an anxious looking Juliene standing without. Adan, who had been trying to read, but spent more time studying his sleeping companion while uneasy thoughts meandered through his mind, withdrew into the hall, closing the door behind him. He motioned towards the far end of the hall towards a small sitting area where they might speak without disturbing Jace or the neighbors. He sat but she was too restless to follow suit, pacing back and forth as she began, "how fares my son?"

Adan smiled ruefully, "I am assured he will be fine in a few days, but I haven't seen him do anything but sleep." His smile faltered, "how is Briane?"

She studied him for a moment, trying to gage how he felt about her daughter, she still hadn't quite forgiven him his abandonment of her for that silly Oath, but she could hear the concern in his voice and see it in his eyes, said she at last, "she wakened about the time Jace emerged from the dungeons." She paused, having more to say but unsure how to proceed, far from the joyous woman she should have been to tell such news, "she seems to be blind, the doctor hopes it is temporary but there is no way to know." She fell to her knees before the aghast Apprentice, pled she, "tell me what it was that happened to her? What it is that Jace has entangled himself in?"

Adan raised her to her feet and said awkwardly, "I know nothing madam, only that Briane is lucky to be alive and that Jace endured something terrible or wonderful, likely both, that we shall probably never understand, but which is of vital importance to those he will one day serve."

Tears trickled down her cheeks, "can I at least see him?"

Adan shook his head firmly, "nay madam, he is not to have visitors until he has fully recovered, but I will keep you posted as to his progress. Hopefully by then Briane will be herself once more. How is she faring with everything?"

Juliene shook her head, "her mood swings rapidly from despair at her condition to astonishment that she is yet alive to anger that she should be so severely afflicted for a girlish prank to embarrassment that she was caught."

Adan grinned ruefully, "no remorse that she was where she knew she should not have been?"

Juliene smiled wanly, "you know her well." She paused, "I am not sure if a visit from you would be of benefit or not, perhaps in a few days when she has resigned herself to the situation and recovered from the shock? I will give her your greetings first and see how she takes it."

Adan laughed, but it was hollow, "she's apt to throw something." Juliene smiled sadly, squeezed his hand in farewell, and returned to her daughter's room and Adan to his. There was little sleep that night for either of them.

The student body was aware that something strange was going on involving the pseudo-apprentice, but as it concerned the Brethren they paid it little heed until Briane suffered for it. She was a popular and well-liked girl, such an incident could do little to endear the Brethren, the Master, or most especially Jace to them. Rumor was rampant and nothing the teachers or even the Lady herself said, did anything to improve matters, all that could be done was to wait for time to reveal what it would and let matters work themselves out. It was probably for the best that Jace spent the first few days after his return confined to his room with no one but Jared, the Lady, and Adan for company, albeit the former two only visited on occasion to see how his recovery was progressing, while Briane refused to come out of hers, for fear of what people in general would think. She was glad Jace had survived, whatever it was he had so foolishly endured, but somehow managed to blame him for her predicament, even so.

Adan awoke with a start the next morning, where he had fallen asleep in his chair, book still open in his lap, and glanced worriedly at Jace, who still slept on. He smiled wryly, laid aside the book, and stood, stretching the stiffness from his unaccustomed sleeping position out of his arms and back. He froze mid-stretch and stared anew at his slumbering friend, for there was no mistake, Jace had somehow joined the Brethren. He lowered his arm and approached the still form on the bed, shaking his head in wonder. Could not take his Oath indeed! Whatever was afoot, at least that strange business was behind them. Which got him to wondering exactly what it was his friend had gotten himself into, but he did not have time to ponder long, for Jace just then blinked groggily back to consciousness.

He studied Adan blankly for a long moment and then said slowly, "Adan?"

Adan grinned, "welcome back my friend."

Jace nodded sleepily, turned over, and went back to sleep like a little boy reluctant to get out of bed. Adan shook his head, smiled, and returned to his morning routine, but then sighed, he would have to skip his classes until Jace was himself again, for he could not leave him alone, if he were as spooky and discombobulated as the servant implied. What of their meals? A knock upon the door answered this question quite efficiently, as a servant stood without bearing food for the both of them. The interruption roused Jace once more, who stared blankly at the plates as if he had no idea what food was, but a little encouragement on Adan's part soon brought the concept back to the fore. After breakfast, Jace was soon enough asleep once more.

That first day he did nothing but eat and sleep, but the following day, he managed to sit up and chat with Adan upon rudimentary topics for short periods, much as a small child might seriously discuss something rather trivial with his elders who try desperately to maintain their sobriety. The day after that, he got out of bed and was far more himself, though still easily distracted, a little spacy, and far too quiet. Jared appeared the fourth morning, ordered Adan out of the room, and spent half an hour with Jace, when he emerged, he smiled broadly at Adan, saying, "he is well on his way to recovery, tomorrow he can leave the room, have visitors, and the like. The day after, he can resume his usual routine." He nearly skipped down the hall, whistling happily as he went. Adan watched him go with a smile, before returning to the room, where Jace greeted him with a warm smile. He still did not know what had happened to his sister, and Adan figured it best to wait a day yet before broaching such a distressing topic.

Briane's recovery was nowhere near so promising. Physically, there was nothing wrong save the persistent blindness, but emotionally she had been devastated. The other students knew she had been injured somehow but not in what way or how badly, her continued absence bred rumor upon rumor, yet she refused to emerge from her chamber and get on with her life. How was she to function at all? A girl struck blind in her prime? Or worse, would be the pity they'd feel for her! She was strong, she was resilient; she needed no one but herself! Then she would collapse into a sobbing heap of despair, not knowing what to do. The doctor visited her daily, but seeing no sign of improvement, he said gravely, the day Jace at last emerged from his room, "without some miracle, I fear this is a permanent condition." Briane nodded glumly, having already resigned herself to that particular doom but said nothing, absolutely refusing to touch her food that day or speak to anyone.

On the morning Jace was allowed to venture forth for the first time, Adan decided it was time to inform him of his sister's predicament, said he as they both prepared for the day, "Briane was in the dungeon with you, you know?"

Jace froze, tunic half on, said he in horror, "I have some vague recollection of someone saying that, but cannot remember who. It is true?! How can that be?"

Adan shook his head, "you know Brie, she'll stop at nothing to be where least she should be."

Jace smiled wryly in remembrance, but then frowned, remembering what it was they were discussing, "is she alright?"

Adan said quietly, "that odd servant insists she should have died, but she managed to survive, though she was stricken blind and might remain so permanently."

Jace grimaced, "lucky to be alive indeed! No man should look upon that and live..." He trailed off suddenly and met Adan's wide-eyed gaze as he realized he might be saying something aloud that should not be casually spoken of, even to his best friend. He cleared his throat awkwardly, but thankfully Adan had tact enough not to press him for more details but a thoughtful look had entered his eyes. If no man could look upon whatever it was and live, how had Jace survived when his sister was stricken blind for the least glimpse? Continued Jacee, hoping futilely to change the course of his friend's thoughts, "I hate to say it, but it is her own fault, she well knew she was not allowed down there and the guard even double-checked to make sure no one was inadvertently trapped down there when they shouldn't be." He sighed heavily, "but I suppose she does not see it that way?"

Adan smiled grimly, "of that you can be certain. She blames you, the Master, the Lady, even me, but certainly not herself."

Jace shook his head in dismay, "will she allow visitors?"

There came a brief knock and then the door swung wide, revealing a smiling, albeit sad, Juliene standing without, replied she, "she refuses to see anyone but me, even Ella isn't allowed within." She studied her son as she spoke and her smile deepened, becoming downright mischievous, "but exceptions must be made for family. Are you up for this? What she needs is a good spanking, and I fear we have been two peas in a pod far too long for me to do her any good, but maybe her stern, no nonsense brother can make her see sense?" She smiled pleadingly at Adan, "and perhaps her estranged but dearest friend could aid her as well?" They nodded their hearty agreement, smiling with in impish delight to have their part in such a plot.

Juliene had been studying her son the whole time, heartened by what she saw, knowing he had come away from his trial not only whole, but far stronger, more mature, and possessed of a confidence that defied his recent fall from Astoria's social pinnacle, for it was a confidence not borne of this world and thus not easily shaken thereby. But then she frowned as one small detail finally register, said she in some confusion, "did you intend to don Adan's clothes or are you still confused enough to need help getting dressed of a morning?"

Jace grinned sheepishly, "no mom, this is my rightful attire. I am now an Apprentice of the Brethren."

She smiled half in consternation, half in amusement, "well, it was nice of you to keep me apprised of the situation. I had thought you indifferent to the Oath."

Jace grinned impishly, "not so much indifferent as incapable of taking it at the time, but that small matter has been rectified, though quite unexpectedly, in the midst of everything else."

She hugged him fiercely, smiled proudly, and said, "well, if this is what you truly want, and I know that it is, I could not be happier for you. Now let's go talk some sense into your sister!"

As they accompanied her down the corridor, Jace asked, "why are you not more concerned about Briane's condition? I would expect you at the least to be angry with me, the Master, fate, or who or whatever you chose to blame."

She stopped mid-stride and turned to her son, said she, "I don't know what happened down there and probably never will, but I do know the fool girl brought it upon herself and should be happy she lived to tell the tale. Do I grieve for her loss, certainly, but is it the death sentence she has resigned herself to? Certainly not! She is alive and mostly well, while this will prove a major hindrance to life as she once knew it, it is not the end of the world as she assumes it to be. She is sulking like a spoiled child and right now the kindest thing we can do for her is to help her see that." She smiled villainously, "and if it takes a swift kick in the pants to do that, so be it." The boys exchanged a mystified expression, silently vowing never to cross so fierce a woman!

They continued on their way and came to the room wherein Briane skulked and lurked and lately kept her being. Juliene did not bother knocking but barged right in, the two Apprentices in tow. Briane looked up, fury in her unseeing eyes, unable to discern who her visitors were, scowled she, "mother, is that you? Who do you have with you? I absolutely refuse to see anyone."

Juliene said dryly, "as you won't be seeing anyone for some time to come, perhaps the rest of your life, I don't see how that matters. Your brother and best friend have a great desire to speak with you, whether you would reciprocate or not. I will leave them to it my dear and you would be wise to listen." She added archly, "two esteemed representatives of the Brethren must possess at least a little wisdom betwixt them." Smiling amusedly, she withdrew, closing the door after her.

Briane's face was a study in first astonishment then horror as she took in what her mother implied, at last she growled, "can you not leave me in peace? Am I not miserable enough?"

Jace grinned, "you are certainly most miserable, dear sister, but much of it, I fear, is self induced."

She turned on him and hissed, "come to taunt me then in my wretchedness? Is not this all your fault or that of your precious Master?"

He said quietly, "nay, I am not here to taunt or tease, but rather talk sense into that stubborn heart of yours." He smiled ruefully, "was not mine just as mulish?" She smiled wanly at this as he continued, "how is it my fault or anyone's but your own?" He became grave, "it is a miracle you survived!"

She collapsed on her pillows, sobbing, and he was at her side in a moment, holding her close, stroking her hair, patting her back, allowing her to grieve as she must. Adan stood awkwardly by the door, averting his eyes and shifting his weight from foot to foot. At last her tears slowed to a mere trickle and hiccups and sniffles replaced her sobs, said she morosely, "how was I to know what would come of it? How ever am I to get on with life?"

Jace said quietly, "you knew full well what it was you did, though perhaps not the gravity of the situation." He smiled sadly, "and while your loss is grievous, you are still a highly talented and capable young woman, you will figure things out, one day at a time."

She smiled at him, unseeing, but said, "trite, brother, trite. You will make a proper Brother indeed." She grimaced in horror, having forgotten her other visitor, turning her attention to Adan, who she could hear by the door, said she in an aghast voice, "I am sure you think me truly wretched!"

Adan shook his head, though she could not see, and said, "do not be ridiculous Brie, I know who and what you are, and love you for it," he smiled impishly, "or shall I say in spite of it?" She grabbed a pillow and launched it at him, scarily accurate for one who could not see to aim.

Briane agreed to accompany Jace on his official return to normality after that, though she chased them out of the room that she might attend to her person ere her debut. They smiled jubilantly at Juliene as they emerged, urging her to go in and help her daughter ere they were forced to wait all day for her to get ready, knowing girls took far too long as it was to finish their morning preparations without being newly blind as well. But she did emerge at last, and together they made their way down to breakfast. The entire populace of the dining hall seemed to draw a collective gasp as the trio entered, taking in every detail from Jace's new uniform to the strip of cloth covering his sister's vacant eyes. That Jace was now one of 'them' came as no surprise and was of little general interest, but the girl's blindness was another matter entirely.

Ella approached at the fastest pace allowable indoors for a lady of breeding, said she to Jace with a sniff, "stand aside and let her true friends be of service."

Jace grinned in spite of himself, allowed his former sweetheart to relieve him of his sister's arm, and exchanged an amused grin with Adan as the ladies walked away, relegating the Apprentices to their relative obscurity. They shrugged and went to find their share of the morning meal, sitting with a jovial group of their comrades who eagerly welcomed Jace officially among them. After the meal, Adan said apologetically, "I should probably get to class, will you be alright by yourself?"

Jace nodded, "I need some time alone to think and to continue to process the events of the last few days. If the weather is decent, I'll walk about upon the lawn, else the library will suffice."

Adan nodded his agreement and disappeared in the direction of his first class while Jace donned his cloak and made for the enclosed lawn adjacent to the courtyard. The weather was yet fine and warm, even with the recent onset of autumn, and he happily paced about for most of the morning, mulling over all that had happened and what the future might hold. He could remember little of what had occurred during 'the incident' or in the ensuing days, but he knew he had been utterly changed, he just wished there was someone to whom he could talk upon the matter. Wearied with his continued pacing, he at last seated himself upon one of the many benches beneath the ancient trees scattered over the sward.

He woke with a start to find a shadowy figure looming over him, which a moment later he realized with dread, was one of the Brethren. He leapt to his feet and hastily offered the appropriate courtesies, at which the man grinned like one vastly amused, said he as Jace fumbled through the process, "easy lad, the Lady has summoned us both into her presence." The boy blanched further in terror and the man grinned all the more, but wasted no further time in escorting the boy to the Lady's familiar chambers.

They bowed themselves in and she motioned for them to be seated off to one side in a less formal sitting area where tea and a tray of sandwiches awaited them. She smiled warmly at the boy, glad that he was far more himself upon this visit; his complete indifference during their previous interview was as far from his current unease and near terror as the east was from the west. Said she at last, "help yourselves, since I know neither of you has yet eaten."

Baye grinned, "Lady, I had not yet dismounted when I was informed that you wished to see me immediately along with this young rapscallion, whom I found dozing against a tree when I am sure he should have been busy elsewhere."

Jace wanted to sink into the floor, horribly embarrassed, yet also aghast at the man's bantering tone while addressing the Lady of Astoria. They exchanged an amused grin over the lad's mystification and astonishment, before the Lady answered mirthfully, to the boy's continued mortification, "he has had an eventful week, thus I think we can forgive him this lapse, at least this once."

Baye bowed his head gravely and a perplexed half-smile blossomed on Jace's face, as he began to understand the dynamics between the Brethren's august leader and one of her oldest and most capable servants. The Lady saw comprehension dawn in the lad's eye and smiled proudly, the boy would one day be just as vital a Messenger as his soon to be mentor. Continued she, "when was the last time you had an apprentice?"

Baye glanced curiously at the boy and then met the Lady's eye once more, said he far too blandly, "I have never had an apprentice."

She actually gaped at him, something rarely done by someone who had held this position for as long as she, as she regained control of herself, she said, "how is that possible?"

He shrugged but smiled easily, "perhaps with all the dire missions on which you send me, you never thought to imperil one of your pupils likewise."

She nodded thoughtfully and then frowned, "you are correct, with all the missions I and my predecessor have set you, how is it you have survived this long?"

He met her gaze evenly, she knew there was something he was not telling, likely could not, knowing how his ilk loved to conceal things from her, said he, "that I cannot say, but I am ever at your service." He glanced questioningly at the boy, "are you sure you want to risk this one in my keeping?"

Jace gaped, he had never thought to be assigned to a mentor so soon, he had not even given a thought to which sect of the Brethren he might like to belong, but the Messengers? Did he have any choice in the matter? The man saw his reaction and grinned, "see, even he is appalled at the idea."

The Lady nodded grimly, "I fully understand, but this is a very special case." She frowned in consternation at the incongruity of her forthcoming statement, "one of the servants has asked that it be so."

Baye froze, asking quietly, "which particular servant?"

The Lady met his intense gaze and answered just as quietly, "Jared."

Baye turned surprised eyes upon the boy, "is that so?" He smiled amusedly at the Lady's predicament, said he with a grin, "it cannot be easy taking orders from your underlings, my Lady, but there is not a man alive that I would trust more, most especially under such strange circumstances."

Her answering smile was wry indeed, "you speak truly, my friend." She turned to Jace and asked gently, "are you agreeable to this dangerous but intriguing arrangement? There is certainly no better man alive to hone and refine your remarkable skills than Baye, but it is your choice." What could he do but nod his wide-eyed acceptance?

So it was, that a few minutes later, they found themselves walking side by side down the corridor, the boy nearly as flummoxed as he had been the moment he awakened again in the mortal world while Baye wore a smile of vast amusement. Said he at last to the stunned Jace, "what say you to a little ride about the countryside?" Jace met his eye and smiled eagerly, a thousand unasked questions roiling in his mind. The man laughed merrily and led the way to the stables.

Once they were well and truly alone in the wide fields surrounding the city, allowing their mounts to amble at leisure, for Jace was not up for anything more strenuous, Baye began, "I can see you are near to bursting with questions lad, ask away." The boy frowned, suddenly uneasy, not knowing how much he could ask or tell this near stranger. The man laughed easily, suddenly understanding the lad's predicament, said he, "look at your right palm lad."

Frowning, Jace did as he was instructed, and gasped to see the figure of a small, rampant unicorn alight thereupon with a silver light. Baye held his own hand up for Jace to inspect, nearly falling out of his saddle in astonishment, said he at last, "what is it? Can everyone see it?"

Baye grinned, "nay lad, it is only visible to those of us within the Shadow."

Jace reined his horse in sharply, "Shadow? Like the stories? The Shadow of the Unicorn?!"

Baye nodded, "you observed the strange nature of those books? It is the same way with the Mark, only those who need to see it can. But yes, the tales are true, and you are in the very midst of them." He laughed in remembrance, "though real life will be far more strange and wonderful by far than those old legends tell."

Jace let his gelding have his head, as he said, "what exactly is it? What are we? What do we do?"

Baye smiled, hugely enjoying the lad's naiveté, said he, "it is something that must be experienced rather than told, that is the purpose of an Apprenticeship after all, but I will tell you a little, if only to spare your sanity. We are a suborder within the Brethren, technically a part of the brotherhood, yet also something else altogether. As our name implies, we act and exist in secret and few know anything of us, even the Lady knows little of the truth."

The boy nodded eagerly as the man continued, this time far more seriously, "you must speak of this to no one outside the Shadow. Should you even think of revealing any of this, you will fall dead before your tongue can betray us." Jace blanched, knowing somehow that he spoke truly, but also that he was incapable of accidentally betraying the secret, rather the warning applied to one who intentionally meant to speak things forbidden for others to hear.

Baye lightened his tone, "fear not lad, you know you must deliberately betray the Shadow for that to be the case. Unlike the rest of the Brethren, we are Called to this peculiar service rather than choosing it freely; we can refuse of course," Jace smiled ruefully at this remark, "but it is not an occupation just anyone can decide to pursue at will. Any man with a willing heart can take up with the Brethren and join the sect that best suits his tastes and abilities, but very few ever find themselves Called into the service of the Shadow."

Jace frowned, "how many, exactly?"

Baye smiled broadly, "you would be the sixth since the world began."

Jace gaped and Baye smiled the more, the boy grinned, "very few indeed! What would have happened had I refused?"

Baye shook his head, "it is not for mortal men to know the 'what ifs,' lad, only the Master is omniscient, but if you had refused the Master entirely, you would have led a frustrating and pointless life, always feeling that you were somehow missing out on something. If you had simply refused this particular service, they would have found an empty cell and you would have remained forever in the Master's presence, rather than returning to the mortal world." His smile broadened eagerly, "but you will soon find yourself in a life more fulfilling than you can yet imagine. You asked what our purpose is? The Messengers supposedly take on the most complex and impossible of missions for the Lady, while that is true to a point, it is the truly impossible missions that fall to us." He paused for a moment, deciding how best to proceed, "we get the quests that are not humanly possible, but with our Master's power and grace, we can often succeed." He smiled ruefully, "of course none of the credit will ever fall to us, as we are not even supposed to exist, but then we do this for the Master's glory and purposes, not our own. Jared has spent countless centuries in the post of servant, when he is actually the Captain of the Shadow, but in that position he knows everything that is happening in the Keep and can act accordingly."

Jace said thoughtfully, "I know the Brethren can live up to three hundred years, but if there are so few of us, how is it that there are so many of us alive at this particular time?"

Baye studied the boy proudly, knowing he was well suited to their calling with his quick mind, said he, "the Brethren may live three hundred years, but we have no set lifespan." He paused to allow the boy time to process this revelation and then continued, "you looked upon the Master himself, undisguised in all His glory, no mortal man can survive that. Your sister was stricken blind, thus sparing her life and hopefully teaching her discretion, but you were unmade. Had you refused your Calling, you would have remained wherever it is the Master and His dwell, but we would never have seen you more. But you chose to enter this service and thus returned to us, a mortal man but not a mortal man."

The boy frowned, uncomprehending, but Baye's only reply was to grunt and fall from his saddle. Jace glanced around frantically, only then seeing the bulk of his childhood home looming out of the trees before them as his heart sank, knowing his father was somehow involved in this tragedy. He flung himself out of the saddle and raced to his mentor's side; an arrow protruded from the man's chest and he smiled ruefully, "this is rather embarrassing..." He trailed off and lay still.

A cold hand seemed to clench Jace's heart as he stood, knowing what he must do. Hand on his sword hilt, he turned to face his adversaries when an arrow lodged itself in his flank; his knees buckled as he groaned in agony, but he kept his wits about him and drew his sword as their assailant broke cover. Jace stared in horror but not surprise as the old guardsman, the closest thing in his life to a father, studied the scene with a grim frown. He kicked Baye, but seemed satisfied when there came no response. He then turned stony eyes upon the boy, still on his knees but sword in hand. He smiled gravely and said, "put down the sword, demon, we have ways of dealing with your kind."

Jace gaped, he might have expected something of the sort from the rather addled old housekeeper or perhaps even his father, but from the old soldier? He struggled to his feet and the man took a step back, knowing the lad was dangerous, even wounded. Demanded the boy, "do you not know me?"

The old man scoffed, "none of that now! You wear the face of one I once knew, but we all know him dead or worse. He could not have survived winter alone in these hills."

Jace rolled his eyes, "Astoria is half a day's walk from here!"

The man shook his head gravely, "better to die in the wilderness than accept the mercy of them demon-worshippers."

Jace sighed, "you have killed an innocent and valiant man, you must be held accountable."

The man smiled incredulously, "I recognize no authority but the Lord of the Keep, he'll know what to do with you, demon."

Jace shifted his stance, ready to defend himself, when he felt a blow to the back of his head, far too reminiscent of the day when he should have fallen to his death. Blackness engulfed him for a few moments and when he came to himself, the housekeeper was standing over him with a cast iron frying pan in hand, saying to the guardsman with a laugh, "that's how you deal with a demon!"

The man's reply was cut short as he saw the boy stirring and gasped, "he's awake, let's get him to the keep!"

Jace was having trouble concentrating, worse, he felt like he was about to unravel; he knew if he lost hold of himself, it might be disastrous for anyone around him. He smiled grimly at the thought, thinking the villains might well deserve it, but he knew that thought was unworthy of both himself and his Master, in Whose image all men were made. He was as wretched and guilty as they, no more deserving of grace, but happily its recipient, and it was a gift freely offered to all men, they had only to accept it, and that was the whole point of life: the search for that precious gift and afterwards, helping others to find it. It seemed there was yet much he must learn about human nature, particularly his own, and what was expected of him as a true servant of the Master. But that is what his apprenticeship was all about. He glanced sadly down at the unmoving Baye, wondering who might be his mentor now. Then they forced him to his feet and groaning, he remembered the arrow in his side, perhaps he would need no mentor after all. The thought of his ingloriously short career brought another smile and a buffet from his captors, who thought him insolent.

They half drug, half carried the boy, for he was in no shape to walk of his own accord. It was an unwieldy and slow process, for neither were young and the lad was not as slight as he once had been, but at last they dropped him to the paving stones in the fortress' courtyard, gasping and nearly insensible, frantically fighting the rising panic that he was beginning to fray at the edges. The pair hastened off, neither willing to remain alone with a demon, to find the master of the castle, hoping he would deign to come to their prisoner rather than having to drag the fool into the depths of the keep. Just when the boy felt he could not hold himself together any longer, he felt a firm pressure on his shoulder and a stabilizing pulse of light coursed through his being. His head cleared, his breathing eased, and he was no longer in danger of falling to pieces.

He sat up with a start to see a jovially smiling Baye standing over him, said he with a laugh, "you could have done that for yourself lad, but I suppose you didn't know how because this is still technically your first day on the job." He shook his head, "you nearly came undone, we'll have to work on that too. Until you can control yourself, even on the brink of death, you are dangerous to anyone who happens to be in the area at the time, and you might inadvertently reveal things the world need not know."

The boy smiled ruefully as he took Baye's offered hand and climbed to his feet, then said in a voice strained with wonder, "you live?!"

Baye nodded, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for a dead man to do so, he smiled in vast amusement, "think about it lad, the attrition rate amongst the Messengers is frightful, yet I said our assignments are worse than theirs yet there are only a handful of us, which must imply that death is not a permanent condition amongst us."

Jace's eyes were wide in wonder, but he managed an impish half smile, "which explains your unicorn's complete indifference to your demise and your absurd last words."

Baye's eyes narrowed but the corner of his lips twitched, betraying his amusement, said he, "absurd? What kind of a word is that to use in relation to your mentor lad? Indeed! I think a month shoveling muck is just recompense for your insolence. Tell me what is not embarrassing about being unhorsed and pierced through the heart by a doddering old grey beard with no teeth? I have met many an end far more gruesome, romantic, or poetic," he frowned in consternation, "I am not sure one should apply those last two words to death, but you get the idea, that such an inglorious end should be mine, is well, rather embarrassing!"

Jace grinned, "I see your point, but should we truly be so concerned about how others perceive the glory, or lack thereof, of our demise?"

Baye smiled ruefully, "lad, I am the one who is supposed to be teaching you, not you me! But you are correct, I need to swallow my own pride and attend to our Master's business."

Jace could make no reply before a terrified shout echoed through the half constructed ruin as the guardsman returned and saw his dead and dying prisoners alive and well, "demons! I told you they was demons!"

Baye demanded of the frantic man, "where is your master?"

"I'll never betray my lord!" he raised his sword and would have charged the pair in a suicidal rampage, but six of the Brethren suddenly galloped into the courtyard and drew rein, which deflated the infuriated guardsman, who dropped his sword and stared listlessly at the pavement. The housekeeper, frying pan at the ready, crept around the corner, took one look at the host in their midst, and joined her companion in the bitter grasp of defeat.

"Now for the rat," said Baye eagerly to Jace, he glanced at his comrades and said, "these two are guilty of attempted murder at the least, but I think they are also rather confused and afraid, which is no excuse but I do not think them to be murderous fiends out of habit. We'll find the so-called lord of this place." They dashed off to find Jace's father, leaving the others to tend to the two disheartened prisoners.

They ran down a corridor that ended abruptly, for where a wall should have been the surrounding forest stood. Baye turned to the boy in exasperation, "I have no idea where to find this fellow."

Jace grinned, "I grew up here and the man in question is my father, but he's likely fled by now."

It was Baye's turn to gape that day, but he motioned for the boy to lead on, but he was correct in his assumption that the man had fled the moment he knew his castle under siege, abandoning his servants to their fate while he thought to get away. But Baye's unicorn had not been idle, not only had he summoned his companions bearing the patrol that had just wandered into the forsaken fortress, he had also waited at the back of the dismal structure and shadowed the fugitive. The other news brought by the creature caused Baye to glance at his apprentice with speculative eyes, was the lad ready for this? He smiled roguishly and laughed to himself, ready or not, the lad would learn this day what the greatest task of the Shadow truly was. He said to the lad, as they jogged along, "I fear your father was involved in something far more deep and sinister than he can begin to imagine. Are you ready for the fight of your life?" The boy was all eager smile. Baye's smile became proudly paternal; the lad would do well indeed!

They approached the clearing where the unicorn awaited them, draped in darkness to blend in with the surrounding vegetation. Two men were arguing in the glade, a tall dark figure loomed over a bent, aged man, both seemed to be berating the other but neither making his point. Jace felt a twinge of pity for his defeated sire and Baye seemed to feel his angst, whispered he, "don't worry about the old man, he is not our main interest in this fight. That shadowy fellow is our true quarry; watch out for his dark sorcery and his vile reptile."

Jace's eyes were wide, wondering what sort of fiend his father had entangled himself with, but he could make no reply as the pair suddenly seemed to sense their presence and turned to face the intruders. Then everything seemed to happen at once: Jace's father crumpled with the villain's knife in his back, Baye leapt upon the fiend the next instant, and a hideous reptile as big as a horse came snarling out of the underbrush, intent on tearing Baye to pieces. As the others exchanged furious sword strokes, Jace set upon the bipedal monster. He knew he only had one chance before the creature would tear him to shreds and he was determined to make it count. His sword neatly pierced the monster's breast and the next moment its claws and teeth were upon him. Jace was dead long before the vile thing's miniscule brain figured out it was too.

The shadowy fiend howled in fury as Baye struck true, but he collapsed with a triumphant cackle, "you may have won the day, but the cost was dear!"

Baye looked sadly down at his defiant foe, "it is not too late!" His only answer was to scoff and melt into a fetid pool of black ooze. Baye shook his head in disgust and knelt beside his apprentice, or what was left of him. He smiled ruefully, remembering their earlier conversation pertaining to ignominious deaths; the boy had certainly not suffered such a fate himself. He laid a gentle hand to the shredded remains of the boy and that awful, wonderful light soon suffused the corpse, restoring the lad to his previous state, save with the addition of a joyous smile. Baye met his wondering gaze and laughed, "now that was not an embarrassing death at all." He offered the lad his hand and drew him to his feet.

Jace studied the fallen monster, impressed, the thing was far more hideous and terrifying than he had at first thought. Baye clapped his astonished apprentice on the shoulder and laughed, "well done lad, few can say they accomplished half as much on the first day of their apprenticeship." His unicorn informed him that their comrades were en route and he frowned, "we can't let the others see this beast, it will only inspire questions we can't answer." He touched the monstrosity and released a burst of light into the carcass. It instantly vanished in a flash of blinding radiance and Jace gaped anew.

Four of the Brethren rode into the clearing a moment later and glanced about curiously, taking in the dead man and their bedraggled comrades. Baye greeted them warmly, explaining, "we found the aged gentleman, who is the so-called lord of this ruin, arguing with a shadowy companion, who turned on him with his knife leaving him as you see. I fought with the vile man and struck him a mortal blow, but as you can see, he has vanished."

The patrol leader told off two of his men to scour the area in search of the missing fiend while the others attended to the dead man and then returned to the ruin, to see if there was aught of interest remaining there. In the end, they never found the villain, though from Baye's account he could not have fled far or survived long, wherever he was, so they contented themselves with that and further explored the ruin. Long had the Lady tolerated the wretched structure so close to Astoria, purely for the sake of its inmates, but at last it could crumble to dust as it ought. The two remaining servants had been taken back to Astoria to give their account to the Lady, leaving Jace the heir apparent of the dismal place. Happily did he surrender it to the whims of time and weather.

The remaining patrolmen resumed their interrupted circuit while Baye and Jace continued what should have been a quiet ride through the country on a brilliant fall day. Once they were alone, Baye said with a smile, "how was your first adventure?"

The boy returned his grin but then sobered, "who or what was that man?"

Baye said quietly, glancing about to make sure they were truly alone, "a fell worker of evil, one of a group calling themselves the Brotherhood of the Serpent, they use blood magic to bind themselves to the Enemy and gain power thereby. They are possessed of a variety of horrid spells and are wont to ride those terrible reptiles. We are their greatest foes, though our Brothers are a veritable nuisance to most of their plots and scheming, if inadvertently, completely unaware of the nefarious organization as they are."

Jace frowned, "why is the Lady unaware of this shadowy nemesis?"

Baye shook his head, "the villains speak of a Time of Revelation, when all the world will know of their evil, but until then, for reasons I do not know but which our Master has decreed, we are to guard this secret as closely as we hold our own."

Jace nodded, wondering how many more secrets he would soon be in possession of and how on earth he was to keep from accidentally giving them away. Baye grinned, knowing his predicament, said he, "don't worry lad, you won't be able to betray that which must be held in confidence, unless you intend to do so, and then you will not be given the chance. Now what do you say to a little practice?" Jace gave him an eager look and he continued, "you need to learn to control your power, lest it inadvertently injure any bystanders. If you are up for it, I will give you that chance." Jace nodded eagerly and they drew up in a quiet clearing well away from any unwitting passersby.

They dismounted and Baye drew his sword, said he with a grim smile, "this may be a tad unpleasant until you master this particular skill. I am going to run you through and you must concentrate, even with death itself staring you in the face, you must hold yourself together until death or unconsciousness seize you, or until you can heal the wound. We will repeat the process until I am certain you can do it under any circumstances, it must become second nature. Are you ready?" Jace nodded, smiling incredulously at the thought that he was going to just stand there waiting patiently for his mentor to kill him!

While he had successfully managed to maintain his concentration on several occasions where it was threatened, he had also nearly lost hold of it just as often, so Baye was determined to see that he could maintain control under any and all circumstances, so it was that he would somehow injure or distract the boy, sometimes to the point of death, but more often just enough to strain his concentration. At first the boy jauntily held his ground, fending off all attempts to thwart him with ease, but Baye continued to press him, grew ever more persistent, and at last Jace found himself on the defensive, barely hanging on, but determined not to fail. Baye struck him one last blow, upside the head with his sword hilt, and the boy crumpled to the ground, an awful light filled the clearing as he fell. The Messenger shook his head and knelt beside his senseless apprentice, who was radiant as the sun.

Jace gasped awake, groaned at his failure, and quickly hid the luminescence. Baye smiled reassuringly at him, "I'm pressing you hard lad, you are doing well, but that isn't good enough. Are you up for more?"

Jace smiled as he gained his feet, "do your worst, sir!"

Baye set himself for another round and for several more to follow, each time the boy managed to fend him off for longer periods of time and under more stressful or distracting circumstances. Barely clinging to consciousness, let alone staying upright, but feeling as if he finally knew what he was doing, Jace braced himself for Baye's final strike as the man's sword quickly pierced his heart. He groaned as he fell into darkness, but the clearing remained blissfully dim in the gathering dusk. Baye smiled down at the crumpled form proudly, that last bout had pushed them both to the limits of their endurance, and if the lad could withstand that, he should be able to maintain control under whatever conditions he encountered in the field.

Adan sat his unicorn on the far side of the clearing, a look of horror painted on his face as he watched Baye run his apprentice through the heart with his sword and then smile proudly down upon his handiwork. The man must have felt eyes upon him, for he lifted his head and looked directly at the aghast apprentice. Adan took up his reins, ready to flee, but the unicorn stood as if rooted to the earth. He frowned at the shaggy head and concentrated, still awkward in his attempts to communicate with his mount through thought alone. The faithful beast turned his head and looked at his master with one great eye, pleading for understanding as he actually took a step towards the murderer. It seemed even the unicorn was part of the treachery this night or perhaps bewitched by the fiend! He jumped from the saddle, hoping to make a run for it, but Baye's unicorn blocked his path and his own told him in no uncertain terms that he must speak with the man who had just murdered his best friend. With a sigh, he turned to face his doom with as much courage as he could muster.

Baye stood a polite distance from Adan, waiting for some sign that the boy was ready to talk. The lad's unicorn informed him that the boy was resigned to his fate, Baye thanked him for his help, and approached the boy. He saw terror in Adan's eyes but also a courage that refused to back down, even at the approach of a traitor and murderer. He stopped a safe distance from the boy, that he might not terrify him more, and said quietly, "I am sorry you had to see that."

Adan quivered but said in astonishment, "how is it you have not broken Oath?"

Baye grinned, good humor rather than menace filling his countenance, though unease tinged his voice, "there are some things you cannot know, lad, but things are not as they seem."

Just then Jace dashed up, curiosity and dread burning in his eyes and so tattered and filthy that he looked as if every Student in Astoria had taken a turn at hitting him with a stick after a five mile jog through a fen, but there was no doubt he was alive and well. Adan stared at him as if he had never seen a boy before, gasped he, "I watched you die!"

Jace exchanged a worried look with his mentor and then met Adan's perplexed gaze, said he with a strange smile, "technically that is true."

Adan frowned at his friend, "technically? Either I did or I did not, which is it? And don't try to placate me with platitudes, I am no simpleton."

Jace studied his boots, one seemingly determined to dig a place to hide his entire being, said he, "no, you are not, but there are some things you cannot know." He turned pleading eyes upon his friend, begging to be understood.

Adan shook his head in disappointment, "then I fear we are at an impasse."

Baye said sternly, "lad, I need your word that you will keep what you have seen to yourself."

Adan frowned, "absolutely not! I do not understand what is going on here, but the Lady must know." His eyes narrowed, "or will you somehow force me to comply?"

Baye smiled sadly, "I can do nothing of the sort and you well know it, but this secret cannot be exposed, I fear if you do not intend to remain silent, things may go ill for you."

Adan suddenly saw a vision of Brie floating through his mind and he blanched, said he, "what are you involved in?" He stared almost accusingly at Jace, "I read those books you tried to keep hidden. I needed a certain book and thought you had it in the pile under your bed, I found them there. To think I thought them nothing but mathematical texts! Whatever you are embroiled in, it is eerily similar to those fantastic stories."

Jace gaped, "you could see what was truly written on those pages?"

Baye frowned in thought, if the boy could read the Legends, perhaps there was more to this predicament than he had thought, and a way out too. Asked he of Adan, "what do you think is going on?"

Adan smiled wistfully, if a tad embarrassed at his own whimsy, said he, "I think the stories are true, that you two, and probably that pushy servant too, are in on something huge." He took a deep breath, as if to gather his courage, then blurted out, "and I want to be part of it."

Jace gasped, "but it is not like joining the Teaching sect, you don't just tell the Lady and everything turns out just peachy!"

"Why not?" came a singsong voice, far too melodious to be of human origin. Jace, Baye, and the two unicorns were immediately on their knees while Adan froze in terror, a magpie perched inexplicably on his shoulder, though it was no bird but the Master Himself. Continued the pert avian form, "are you sure this is what you want? I have Called, you desire it, or think you do. One of their number has just retired from this service and I am in need of a replacement, but you must know that nothing will ever again be the same. Do you still intend to go through with this?" Adan nodded slightly, joy in his eyes. "So be it," chirruped the small avian form as the Light burned forth and obliterated them all.

When they were again aware of anything but the Light, four forms still radiated the light of their Master: two men and two unicorns, but they quickly schooled themselves to normality again and exchanged looks of sheer wonder and joy. Jace frowned, "where is Adan?"

Baye shook his head, "the same place you were when you were supposed to be in the dungeon. He likely won't reappear for several days." He grinned impishly at his apprentice, "which will give you a chance to practice another important skill. How would you like to impersonate your friend?" Jace's astonishment was all Baye could have hoped, continued he, "as my apprentice, your schedule is mine to determine, so folks won't much notice if you aren't around, but if an unattached apprentice suddenly goes missing, people will start talking. Will you do it?"

Jace frowned in bafflement, but nodded, as Baye began explaining that it was a skill akin to that of a unicorn's ability to drape himself in whatever guise best suited him at the moment, albeit it must be something of vaguely the same shape and size. As Baye explained, Jace's smile grew and his eyes danced in eagerness, but before they could give it a try, he asked, "how are the unicorns a part of this?"

Baye gave him a patient smile as he suddenly changed the subject, but said, "why don't you practice what I have just preached while I explain that part of things. Are you trying to learn everything in one day?" Jace grinned mischievously in reply but did as he was bidden, trying on various guises, as Baye continued, "the unicorns with which we are partnered are as unique among their kindred as we are. You have yet to meet your future partner, but when you do, you will not be parted until one of you decides to quit the mortal sphere forever or until the end of time, whichever happens first. The creatures maintain most of their native gifts, but also gain various skills and talents with which you will become acquainted in future, for I need not reveal everything tonight."

He watched the boy for a few minutes, offered some advice on how to improve matters, and then continued, "they do lose their ability to trade their lives for ours, should we be mortally wounded, which is rather moot in our current occupation as death is no longer a major factor, but rather an annoying acquaintance that pops up from time to time, usually when he needs money or wants to borrow something." Jace gaped at this irreverent reference to something so serious as death, but then laughed outright, for it was no longer the greatest enemy of his mortality as it once had been. It was no longer the end of everything he knew, but rather a nuisance to be dealt with when necessary and otherwise ignored.

Then a thought occurred to him, "you said I could heal myself?"

Baye laughed, "you are determined to learn everything tonight, aren't you?"

Jace grinned sheepishly, "only as much as possible, but there is always tomorrow I suppose."

Shaking his head in wonder at the lad's voracious appetite for knowledge, he said, "when wounded, you can heal yourself, though it must be done in a way that will not draw attention to your curious nature." He paused significantly and said, "on occasion, you may also be allowed to heal others, much as a unicorn may take on another's wounds as his own, though the unicorn usually dies in process."

Jace frowned, "sometimes?"

Baye nodded, "in certain circumstances it is allowed or vital to our mission, but if done too often or in the wrong way, it will draw attention to things that should remain hidden. You will know when the time is right."

As Jace mulled this over, another thought occurred to him, "how is it that Adan's mount refused to run and actually took a step towards you when Adan was certain you were some sort of murderous fiend?"

Said said murderous fiend with a grin, "you are perceptive lad, perhaps a little too much for comfort, this will be your last question for the moment, else we'll be here all night, that and we'll have nothing to talk about over the next year or three. We have the ability to speak to and fully understand all unicorns, not just our particular companions as our comrades do, nor are we impeded in understanding, as is common when a man is trying to understand exactly what his mount is trying to convey. I merely asked the creature to wait and he complied, well aware of the Shadow even if our comrades are not. It can be quite a handy skill in numerous circumstances, especially when trying to track down a missing Brother." He looked significantly at the boy and said, "that is a topic we will discuss at length another time, now, 'Adan,' we had best get back to Astoria, as the Lady sent you in search of us, thinking I might be overdoing it with you just out of a sickbed, and before you ask, yes, I gained that insight from our quadrupedal companion."

Jace, doing an admirable impression of Adan, smiled impishly and then thought to try his hand at another new skill, thinking at Adan's unicorn and asking if he might mooch a ride. The beast snorted his eager approval, thinking the charade would be rather fun, especially since his own master was going to be absent for a time. They mounted up and rode home, towards which Jace's horse had long since bolted in all the excitement. Asked Jace of his mentor as they rode along, "so what has come of your actual apprentice, if anyone inquires in the course of this charade?"

Baye smiled villainously and the boy suddenly wondered if his incessant questions might be pushing the man over the edge, but he said quite seriously, "Jace is out on some errand or other, perhaps a training exercise in the woods?"

The faux Adan grinned, "after that encounter with his father, that would not be a bad idea. He probably needs a little time to think things through." He frowned, "what do you think my father had embroiled himself in? He was not exactly a man with any sort of social aspirations, that old fortress was all his pride and joy, far more than even his own family." He smiled sadly in remembrance, "he cast me out because I would not dedicate my life to its continued construction."

Baye said thoughtfully, "I suppose that villain was interested in the structure itself, perhaps promising to complete it if your father would allow him to use it as he would. It would be quite a strategic outpost for our enemies to maintain, especially if we were unaware of it. That dismal place will bear watching until it has rotted beyond use or interest."

By now they had reached the outskirts of the city that had grown up around the original walls of Astoria and they turned to less interesting topics, to themselves as well as to anyone bored enough to try listening in. They dismounted in the courtyard, dismissing the unicorns to be about their own business, and entered the keep, just in time for the evening meal. Baye said in parting, "I will check on you from time to time in the coming days until your friend returns and is able to get out of bed, but until then, you are he and will do as he would do. I'll see that you get a copy of his schedule, but I think you know him well enough to play the part." He grinned a bit too rascally for Jace's comfort, and said, "just don't do anything that might attract attention, be as low key as possible." He raised his eyebrows and Jace nodded his full agreement, wondering what it was the man was worried about. 'Adan' went in to dinner while Baye went to attend to other matters.

Hawk greeted him as he was trying to decide where to sit, said he in some surprise, "Jace has been assigned a mentor already! The boy is barely out of his sickbed, only numbered among the Brethren for a few days, and already he is paired up with the most renowned of the Messengers!"

Jace shrugged indifferently as he sat beside his companion, "the Lady has her reasons, who are we to question them?" He smiled ruefully, "we least of all."

Hawk smiled sheepishly and said, "you are right, I should not be questioning the Lady's judgment or spreading gossip. I guess I am just a little impatient for my own adventures to begin."

Jace laughed, "aren't we all? But that day will come far quicker than we can imagine and then we may long for the days of peace and study! Come friend, are you in that much of a hurry to spend the next century sleeping rough and seeing your friends but rarely?" Hawk smiled his incredulity at this obvious sense but did not answer, for Briane and Ella approached, intent on joining them.

After an exchange of greetings, Ella asked for Briane's benefit, "where is Jace?"

The apprentices exchanged a knowing look before Jace replied, "he was paired up with a mentor today. Who knows what the man has him doing?"

Briane exclaimed, "he's barely out of a sickbed! He hardly has the endurance to walk across the courtyard, let alone to go jaunting about the countryside on some bizarre training exercise."

Jace smiled in amusement, actually he felt quite ready to do just that or far more, despite his recent trials, several encounters with death, and everything else he had endured in the last twelve hours alone. Ella raised her eyebrows and said sternly, "you find this funny Adan? Have you no compassion for your friend and Brother?"

Jay joined them and asked with a smile, "what has Adan done now, my lady?"

She gave him a cold, imperious look, spurning his suit for the thousandth time though he seemed impervious to the idea that any woman could reject him. She refused to speak to him on general principle, he wasn't nobly born after all, and his open and unwanted pursuit of her hand had mortally wounded their friendship. Brie spoke up, amazingly perceptive of what was happening around her despite her blindness, said she, "Adan is showing far too little concern for my poor brother's difficult situation."

Jay smirked, "I believe the almighty Jace will somehow manage. At least if his reputation is half what it used to be, now he's very nearly forgotten." He shrugged as if Jace's loss was his gain, "but that's what comes of mortal glory I suppose." He eyed the apprentices, as if he found their very existence a joke, "but you fellows want nothing to do with such mundane issues anyway, so it is of little matter." He smiled at Ella, "can I get you some dessert, my lady?"

Her answering look might have frozen water but did nothing to faze Jay. She turned her attention back to Brie, "speaking of trying times, what of you my dear? This cannot be easy for you, is there aught else we can do to assist you in your distress?"

Briane smiled wryly, "it is certainly not easy, but I brought it upon myself, prying into matters that were none of my business." She sighed heavily, "and I shall likely rue it all my days." She brightened slightly, "but it has also taught me how dear my friends truly are, how fragile and fleeting is life, and how blessed I am, even when I have been dealt a grievous blow."

The entire table stared at her, as if she were a complete stranger, for never had they thought to hear such words from this fierce, stubborn girl. Ella was speechless for the first time in her life, but at last managed to stutter, "that is quite the revelation, my dear!"

Briane smiled ironically, but there was no bitterness in her voice, just grim amusement, "it took blindness to truly make me see. I have always been completely self-reliant and strong, never weak or helpless, I never needed anyone else, until now; I now realize how utterly wrong I was and hope you can forgive me?"

Again they stared at her as if she had lost her mind, only the two apprentices seemed to understand the changes so suddenly wrought in this young woman they thought they knew so well, but it had all been a facade, an act, underneath was a girl on the brink of womanhood, confused, angry, and scared, who pretended to be fierce and strong and stubborn to protect her fragile heart from an indifferent world. Her brother's sudden transformation had been but a chink in her armor, her experience in the dungeon was the fatal arrow that pierced that small, vulnerable hole.

Ella said in some trepidation, "come dear heart, you have been through so much of late, do not dwell so upon such weighty ideas until you are whole of heart, body, and mind once more. Do not make any rash decisions you might rue for the rest of your life."

Briane said quietly, "when am I supposed to dwell upon such important matters? In the carefree, heedlessness of youth and health? I think not, I have come to realize what an insipid little thing I once was, but no more. A rash decision you call it? Is that what you fear, dear Ella, or is it that your own heart cries out for this very thing yet your mind quails in horror at the mere thought and will do anything to avoid such a doom, even to those closest to you?" She turned towards the faux Adan and whispered, "the reason I was so furious with you when you took your Oath was not that I felt spurned, but rather that I was bitterly jealous, for I wanted that very thing for myself, in my heart of hearts, yet I would not admit it, even to myself." She smiled ruefully, "but now that I am blind, I see at last." Tears tinged her voice, "can you forgive me?"

Jace wanted to embrace his sister then and there, proud of her as he had never been before, but knew as Adan, the gesture would be completely inappropriate, said he, no little touched, "of course, dear Brie."

She smiled sadly, "I must speak with the Lady upon the matter, but I think I know what I shall make of my life." Her smile grew warm as a thought suddenly occurred to her, "the Lady! She is no milksop, the Brethren may perhaps be a fit home for me after all."

The apprentices shook their heads at this common misperception while Ella actually deigned to exchange a horrified look with Jay at losing yet another friend to the inevitable draw of these fanatics about them. Both suddenly began to wonder if they should seriously think about quitting Astoria ere their own fall to such nonsense was imminent. If both Brie and Jace could be drawn in, anyone could. Jay mentally began to count the days until his father's merchant train returned and Ella wondered how close she was to securing an acceptable match from amongst the noble sons in Astoria. On this uneasy note, the small company broke up, the apprentices agreeing to accompany Brie back to her room while Jay and Ella fled in opposite directions, as if the others carried plague.

Jace was glad for Hawk's presence, it meant he would not be put in an awkward situation with his sister when she thought him her formerly beloved. They walked her to her door, bid her goodnight, and then walked quietly back to their own quarters, each lost in his own thoughts and neither wishing to return to the boisterous jollity that was typical after supper amongst the Students. Jace returned to his room and gratefully shut the door behind him, for he had much to think over and a hopeful thought was growing in his heart, but he wanted to discuss the matter with Baye before he let his imagination run wild with eagerness.

Baye found 'Adan' at breakfast the next morning, a knowing and highly amused light in his eyes, but he said casually, "how goes it lad?"

The pseudo Adan smiled broadly, returned the man's greetings, and resumed his attentions to his porridge while Baye continued on his way, nearly tripping over a servant sent to fetch him for the Lady. He smiled sheepishly at the man, who seemed rather aghast at this grievous breach of protocol, but soon recovered enough of his dignity to lead the man to his mistress. Baye made the proper courtesies and soon stood before the Lady in her formal audience chamber, said she after an interminable silence, "where is your apprentice?"

Baye tried to smile easily, but it was obvious the expression was forced, said he with a sigh, "he is well Lady, have no fear in that regard."

She raised her eyebrows at this intentional avoidance of her question as she continued, "I sent Adan out to find you both yesterday when I feared you had kept Jace out beyond his endurance. You returned with Adan but Jace remains unaccounted for since the incident in that disreputable fortress alongside the river. Did something happen when he returned to his old home or in confronting his father? I would like his input before passing sentence on the two prisoners taken in the debacle, they are half convinced we are all of us possessed."

Baye looked remarkably uncomfortable but said at last, "I will send the lad to you immediately my Lady, but I intended to have him practice some of the skills we have been working on of late."

She looked at him in astonishment, "of late? He has been in your keeping barely a day! Whatever you intend for him, do not push him too hard, remember what it is he has endured."

Baye said wryly, "I do not mean to interfere, my Lady, but I know far more of this matter than you. Fear not, I shall not push him beyond his endurance." He smiled proudly, "he is far stronger than most give him credit for."

She sighed, but said, "very well, but send him to me as soon as may be." She shook her head in exasperation, "oh, that someone would tell me what is going on!" He bowed and made a hasty retreat, wondering how best to continue their charade with none the wiser. He knocked on the boy's door, but no one answered; he must be in class. Racking his mind, he tried to remember where Adan was scheduled to be at that particular hour. Smiling at his own ineptness, he hied himself down to visit the man who kept the Student and Apprentice schedules. After a brief inquiry, it was a small matter to track down the supposed Adan between his first and second class. They slipped into a small sitting room, talked briefly of Baye's predicament, and emerged as entirely different people: Jace as himself and Baye the new Adan impersonator. Jace ran off to see the Lady while 'Adan' continued on his way, hoping no one paid him any heed in the hours to come.

The Lady was rather surprised to see Jace so soon, having assumed Baye had him secreted in some distant location or had perhaps lost him altogether, as he had not been seen entering either the city or the castle. After the servant announced him and he stood before her, offering the proper courtesies, she asked rather curiously, "how do you fare with all that has happened? Your trial in the dungeon, the death of your father, whatever it is your mentor has you doing?" She smiled wryly, "you have had a very busy week it seems."

Jace returned her smile, still rather awkward in her presence, but after having met the Master himself, dying several times already, and the myriad other things that had jammed themselves remarkably into so short a period of time, the Lady of Astoria was no longer so frightening a legend, especially when she occasionally let slip little signs of humor, frustration, and curiosity, showing that she was truly human. Said he at last, "I am doing very well Lady, have no fear that my mentor is pushing me too hard or beyond my endurance. I am eager to experience and learn all I can under his competent tutelage."

She heard the truth in his voice and was rather impressed at his vigor after all he had been through, but she was certain she had not heard all nor the worst of it. "Very well," said she, "I am in need of your input as regards the fate of your father's former servants. I understand they raised you?"

The boy nodded, agape that she would request his input on anything, especially when someone's life hung in the balance. She smiled at her continued ability to disconcert him, she had not lost her touch at least, saying at last, "what can you tell me of their character, your father's influence upon them, their attack upon my servants, and so forth?"

Jace went on to outline how dedicated the pair was to his family down through the generations and of his father's obsession with that accursed fortress, of his deteriorating mental state and increasing paranoia and its influence on his servants, and of his orders regarding the protection of his property and its perimeter. He finished rather ruefully, "they are both convinced this is a city of demons and their worshippers. They have known me since birth, raised me in fact, yet they felt no qualms in shooting arrows at us when we were not threating the fortress and in assaulting us with unique but deadly implements on several occasions. They were driven by fear and thought themselves faithful to my father's orders, but what is to be done with them I do not know."

The Lady frowned slightly, "unique but deadly implements?"

The boy grinned sheepishly, "a frying pan to the head can be quite effective if wielded by a skilled foe."

She laughed heartily at this and then smiled, "would you allow me to have the prisoners brought up that you might speak with them briefly?"

Jace grew suddenly awkward, shifting from foot to foot, they knew Baye had somehow come back to life and that he had been in similar straits himself. His presence would only convince them further that the whole of the Brethren were guilty of the worse sorts of magic. The Lady saw his distress and said, "I understand that this must be hard for you, we may forgo the interview if you prefer?"

Jace nodded gladly, "it would not be in their best interest or mine Lady, they are convinced I am not the boy they once knew but rather a demon in his skin."

The Lady nodded gravely, "I understand. Their crimes are serious, but also driven by an irrational fear, social isolation, and a mentally unstable master, thus I must carefully consider what justice requires. Thank you for your assistance." The boy bowed deeply and hastened from the room, hoping to find 'Adan' before Baye made some inadvertent but terrible blunder that would permanently ruin his reputation. He smiled impishly as he ran, thinking that perhaps Adan had already done that by joining the Brethren.

He nearly collided with his sister, as a servant led her by the hand to her interview with the Lady. Said he in unfeigned joy, "Brie!"

She smiled sadly at him but said, "I suppose Adan told you all that happened last evening?"

He replied, "I am well aware of the situation, are you sure about this?"

She sighed, "very much so, I just wish I need not be a burden upon the Brethren or anyone else."

He said quietly, "the records are full of tales concerning numerous individuals who suffered various hindrances to 'normality,' you are no burden my dear, whatever betide!" He squeezed her shoulder in encouragement and she gave him a brave smile, urging the servant to lead on, lest they be late. Jace frowned after her, wondering what had just happened, he had felt a pulse of power flow out of himself and into his sister. A small smile touched the corner of his lips as understanding dawned. He laughed for very joy, causing a passing servant to give him an odd look, but he did not care and dashed off to find 'Adan.'

He found 'Adan' leaving the stable after a heady hour of forking manure, which Jace found vastly amusing but Baye did not, though the former tried desperately to hide his mirth, lest he suffer a similar fate. They vanished again into an unoccupied chamber and emerged in their former roles. Baye said in parting, "let us hope this business will soon be at an end. I hope the Lady is satisfied?"

Jace grinned, "most certainly." He then told of the incident involving his sister.

Baye frowned thoughtfully but smiled, "I think you have the right of it lad, who will be the more surprised do you suppose? Your sister, the Lady, or your skeptical friends?" He added at the last, "you had best make an appearance as yourself sometime tonight, just to keep any suspicious parties from guessing our game." Jace nodded and waited several minutes before following his mentor out of the room and heading for the noon meal.

As he sat over lunch, mulling over one of Adan's favorite books, a shriek of sheer joy rent the relative peace of the dining hall. Jace looked up expectantly and saw Briane running into the room with none to guide her and a look of utter wonder on her face and life in her eyes. Well-wishers and curiosity seekers alike soon engulfed her, eager to hear the tale while she frantically scanned the crowd for her closest friends and family. Juliene appeared at the kitchen door and smiled knowingly while Ella seemed rather relieved, if reluctant to face the exuberant insults of such a crowd to give her congratulations and ask if this meant Brie would reconsider her foolish thought of taking up with the Brethren, as she was no longer desperate. But the ecstatic smile she broadcast to 'Adan' was all the confirmation Jace needed that she was still intent on her purpose, perhaps now more so than before.

He closed his book and withdrew quickly from the room, hoping to return shortly as himself, but Hawk met him in the hall with a slight crease in his brow, said he, "what are your intentions towards Briane?"

'Adan' gaped, how was he to answer such a question when he was not who his questioner thought he was? But then he realized there could be but one answer, said he, "she will always be as a sister towards me but can be nothing more than a dear friend."

Hawk smiled openly, clapped 'Adan' on the shoulder, and said in parting, "that's all I need know, thanks!" And then he vanished into the dining hall. Jace grinned wryly, Adan was going to kill him, but the man would just have to deal with it, they were not allowed to marry after all. His smile deepened, at least if his best friend did have murderous tendencies the condition would not be permanent. He reined in his amusement and hastened to his room lest someone else delay him with life altering questions.

Jace returned to the dining hall as himself, the crowd parting to let him approach his delighted sister, she beamed, "what a little fool I have been!"

Jace smiled delightedly, "of all people, little sister," she gave him an annoyed glance but chose to ignore the comment, "I certainly understand. It took staring death in the face, nay dwelling momentarily in the abyss, to waken me to the reality of my precarious position. You were wise enough to see with a mere loss of sight."

She grinned triumphantly at him and said, "I will be taking my Oath tomorrow, will you and Adan be able to make it?" She put a special emphasis on Adan's name, which nearly broke his heart.

Said he, "we will, if at all possible." Her smile was joy itself.

The Students remained in the dining hall long after curfew, listening to and celebrating the wondrous tale, only a grim few murmuring that a truly benevolent god would not have inflicted blindness upon the poor girl in the first place, but even their muttering could not dampen her joy. Eventually the entire crew had to be routed forcibly to bed by various of the Brethren and several of the servants. Jace returned happily to his room, in guise again as Adan, as they both needed to make an appearance that night. He jumped in surprise to find both Jared and Baye in his room, with a soundly sleeping Adan upon the bed.

Jared studied his disguise with approval, turning to Baye to comment, "the lad certainly has a knack for it my friend."

Baye laughed quietly, "nay my friend, it must be the teacher."

Jace smiled happily down at his returned friend and then skewered his mentor with a concerned frown, "my sister is expecting us both at the Oathtaking tomorrow."

Baye grinned, "you have never actually been to one, have you?"

Jace shook his head, "no, but Adan will be in no shape to go, will he?"

Jared replied, "nay lad, you two will have to go in disguise or find a good excuse for one of you to miss it." He smiled warmly, "congratulations on your sister's recovery!"

Jace sighed happily, "our Master is gracious indeed!"

Baye smiled like the rascal he was, "why does it take death and infirmity before your stubborn kinfolk even consider the most important things in life?"

Jace smiled wryly, "sheer and utter stubbornness my friend, learn well from our mistakes." He sighed heavily, "by the way, my sister and Adan are rather fond of one another, if you go tomorrow, you might be in the unenviable position of breaking her heart."

Baye scowled, "I'd rather go back to the stables. I think you can honestly tell people Adan is ill and unable to leave his bed."

Jace smiled sadly, "it would certainly be the truth, even if it disappoints my sister dreadfully."

Jared shook his head, "it will be a far worse heartbreak to hear the words from someone who is not the beloved and only pretending to be."

They all agreed what must be done in the coming days, and gratefully did the elder pair withdraw from the cramped room, while Jace settled into the vacant chair with a smile, wondering if this was how Adan felt in his own vigil only a few days prior, yet it seemed an age had passed in the interim.

He must have dozed off, for the sun was shining brightly through the window when next he looked about the tiny room. He stood, stretched, and smiled to see Adan still sleeping like one dead. Then the sound came again, a knock upon the door, which had awakened the slumbering apprentice from his indifferent sleep. He opened the door to find a servant bearing a breakfast tray for the both of them and a message of assurance that it was quite alright if Adan spent the day abed, sick as he was, and also that someone would be sent to sit with the invalid during the Oathtaking if Jace wished to attend, to which Jace readily agreed, seeing as it was an event he had never yet witnessed, apprentice though he was. He thanked the man, took the tray, and sent him on his way.

Whether it was the smell of food or the brief commotion, Jace did not know, but Adan roused long enough to eat something before falling comatose once more. Jace shook his head ruefully, wondering if he had been that bad after his own experience, remembering little of those days and more grateful to his sleeping friend than words could express, especially when he had no idea what ailed his friend at the time. He settled down to his own breakfast and some long neglected reading while Adan slept on.

The day passed interminably, but at last Jared appeared at the door, which surprised the boy no end, that the very Captain of the Shadow would sit with a mere apprentice. He grinned affably at the gaping boy, said he, "one of the servants was to sit with the lad, how could I trust such a vigil to a layman? Off with you, or your sister will have both our heads." They both grinned at the truth in that last statement, but Jace wasted no time in complying, hastening off to the courtyard and the enclosed lawn that lay adjacent to it.

A great rent marred the otherwise pristine hillside, where once, long ago, the most terrible and wondrous event in the history of the world had taken place: deity had taken on flesh and mortality, to die that men might live. Jace's heart leapt in grateful joy as he remembered the tale and gazed upon the narrow chasm where the hilltop had been rent asunder as creation itself violently protested the death of its Maker. But death could not hold Him and was itself overthrown, and ever since had the Brethren proclaimed that joyous message far and wide, pursued justice, defended the helpless, and promoted peace between individuals and nations. And of this great legacy, Jace was now a part. He glanced at his comrades, gathering on the far end of the chasm, its narrowest point, his smile a strange mix of sadness and joy, as he realized while he did have a part in their tale, he was not a full partaker in their society, heir of secrets that he was.

He felt a firm, comforting hand on his shoulder and smiled gratefully up into the knowing gaze of his mentor, who said quietly, "you're not alone lad, we are part of something far greater than you can yet comprehend, aye, something none this side of eternity can know in full, but it will be a grand tale when once it is told. We stand apart from other men, a result of both our curious nature and covert occupation, but we are never outside our Master's keeping. You will see all those you once knew pass into memory to be replaced by a new and strange generation, only to be repeated ever and anon until the end of time, but our Master does not change nor does His strength fail. Take heart lad, for we are in His keeping."

He grew silent as they drew near their comrades and joined the cluster of those come to witness the day's ceremony. The initiates stood on one side of the chasm while the Lady, her unicorn, and an assistant stood on the other, she intoned, "millennia ago, in this very spot, the Master Himself was slain to prevent the shedding of innocent blood. Death could not keep him hostage and still His presence and power are strong in the world that fell from innocence that fateful night. But He no longer intervenes directly in the affairs of men, but works through His servants to accomplish His plans. You are gathered here to enter into that service. It is not something to be taken lightly, for it will consume your entire life and may even cost you your life one day. If any here so wishes, they may withdraw at this time." No one moved. She continued, "very well. Let the Oathtaking begin."

The Lady's unicorn stepped forward as the Lady produced an ancient tool and used it to draw forth a stream of silver blood from the creature's great neck vein. An assistant caught the precious fluid in a cup while the Lady stemmed the silver flow with a few expert stitches. The unicorn stepped back as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place.

She said, "you have come today to swear an Oath before all here assembled. To serve none but the Master, His laws and truth, and those appointed by Him to oversee said Truth. You swear to forsake all personal possessions, dreams, and aspirations. You swear to dedicate your lives to His service alone; to uphold justice, peace, and love for others. You swear to lay down your life, if need be, in defense of the helpless and the Truth. You swear to abide by the Common Law, the Truth, and the laws of the Brethren. You swear not to enter into marriage with any save one who has also sworn this Oath. You do not swear to be perfect, but to try your best and overcome your weaknesses. You may forsake this Oath at any time of your own choosing or you will be forsaken by the Brethren and the Master if you grievously and intentionally violate the tenets you have sworn herein and upon such occasion you shall lose all rights, responsibilities, and privileges acquired by the taking of this Oath."

She looked solemnly at each of them and said, "does any here have any doubts or questions about what the Oath entails?" Again no one spoke. "Then come forward and if you swear the Oath, step across the crevice and say so before the assembled witnesses and the Master Himself. If any wish to forego the Oath, let him leave now." Again no one moved. "Then you may take your Oath," said she. Individually, each candidate stepped across the crevice and said, "I so swear." As they did so, each applicant took a drop of the silver blood on their tongue and completed the ceremony. The only overt physical change any of them noticed was that anyone who had also taken the Oath now appeared to have a faint glow about them, allowing the Brethren to distinguish their fellows. Once the last candidate had taken their Oath, the assembled Brethren gave a cheer and eagerly greeted their new comrades.

Briane ran up to Jace, glowing with wonder, but her face fell slightly when she could not find Adan amongst the gathered witnesses. Jace said quietly, "he would have been here if he possibly could have, but he is unable to leave his bed."

She sighed heavily, quickly swallowed her disappointment, then looked into her brother's eyes, smiling sadly, "perhaps it is for the best."

He drew her into a long hug, then smiled down at her with tears of joy in his eyes, "welcome home, dearest Brie!"

She smiled joyously up at him, her heartache momentarily forgotten. She dropped her gaze, looked up again with a slight, contented smile, before breaking into a wholehearted grin as she saw something over Jace's shoulder. Hawk stepped forward, bowed formally to Briane, nodded to Jace, and then addressed the lady, holding out his arm, "might I have the honor of escorting you to dinner, my lady?"

She blushed like a sunset while studying her feet, but nodded eagerly, gave Jace an apologetic smile, and took Hawk's offered arm. Jace shook his head, but smiled, saying, "I had best get back to Adan, I want to be there when he wakes up." He nodded his farewell and dashed off, leaving the pair talking in quiet but animated tones as they meandered off to the evening meal. It seemed there was hope for Briane's tempestuous heart yet.

Adan slept for the rest of the day, waking only to eat, thus did Jace pass the evening in relative peace and obscurity, but the new Apprentices did anything but, sitting at the Lady's table in a place of honor, beaming like the new risen sun in their excitement and joy. Hawk was at Briane's side the moment she rose from her place while Jace and Adan were nowhere to be seen, a sign she felt somehow prophetic of things to come, that somehow they must now grow apart, but she laid aside this disquieting thought as she took Hawk's arm and allowed him to escort her off to one side of the room where a few of the older apprentices had gathered, however they were not to make it to their intended destination without a delay or two.

Ella was the first to waylay them, she glared imperiously at Hawk, as if he were the one importuning her rather than vice versa, said she stonily to Briane, "I see you actually went through with it. Congratulations, I guess. I had hoped that you would abandon this nonsense after you regained your sight, but if it makes you happy, I suppose I ought to be happy for you."

Briane smiled in that infuriating way peculiar to herself, Jace, and Juliene, but said sincerely, "I only hope you can be as happy one day Ella. I thank you for your congratulations, such as they are."

Ella did not exactly flounce away, as such would not befit a lady of breeding, but it was a near thing. The apprentices exchanged an amused look and then took a step closer to their destination, but it was Juliene's turn to offer her heartfelt and sincere congratulations, said she with only mild annoyance, "where is that rapscallion of a brother of yours? He should be the first to offer his congratulations!"

Briane shook her head in exasperation, "Adan is apparently ill and he is determined to ward the sickbed." She smiled in amusement, "perhaps to ward off death itself?"

Juliene did a fair impression of her daughter's act of exasperation, crossing her arms she sighed, "why am I not surprised." Warming slightly as she changed the subject, she continued, "I just wanted to let you know how truly proud of you I am." Tears of joy sparkled unshed in her eyes, "and at long last I have found the peace and joy I once sought in my girlhood faith, but abandoned as futile when sorrow and trials came upon me, thinking somehow I would be spared such things in exchange for believing." She smiled sadly in remembrance, "but such is the lot of all men, rather than sparing us sorrow, our faith gives it meaning and a hope beyond grief, that one day all things will be set right; it lends us strength and comfort until that distant day." She kissed Briane lightly on the forehead, gave her a parting smile, and silently withdrew.

Juliene had hardly stepped away when Jay approached, glaring stonily at Hawk, he addressed Briane with a lopsided, roguish grin, "it isn't too late you know. You could still come away with me, enjoy the freedom of the road, and be mistress of your own destiny. My father's merchant train could come any day, I cannot wait forever!"

She tried not to glower at his insolence, but said as calmly and pleasantly as she could, "I appreciate your fervor, Jay, but I am quite content with my decision and hope you can be so yourself in days to come."

He shrugged, as if it were of no matter to himself, and went to speak to another girl of his acquaintance, eager to secure a lady's affections ere his father returned, knowing it would be far harder to find a prospective bride amidst the alternating isolation and chaos that was the life of a traveling merchant. He still clung to a small, desperate hope that Ella might yet acknowledge his existence, but he was also of a practical turn of mind, and knew if she continued to slight him, he might well wait forever and still nothing would happen, so he decided to actively pursue a wife elsewhere, who knows, maybe she would grow jealous and thus pursue him herself. It was a dream, if a mortally wounded one. Briane and Hawk were finally allowed to cross the dining room and thus finish their epic journey.

Adan awoke the following day to a state of semi-rationality, though still rather spacey and unable to focus on anything for very long. Jace welcomed him heartily back to the realm of the living, but refrained from pressing him for details as to how he felt about everything, but rather spent the day in insipid conversation centering on the weather and equally benign topics, for he was still in a delicate state and had the philosophical capacity of a small child, with a temper and patience to match. Jace wondered anew at his friend's patient vigil during his own convalescence when he knew nothing of the matter. That was friendship indeed! Thus did the day pass quietly.

The next morning brought a very nearly normal Adan awake with the first rays of dawn; he smiled joyously at his just waking roommate and received the same in return. Said Jace as he stretched and yawned, "am I finally able to leave the room?"

Adan quipped back, "turn about is fair play, my friend. I would say we are now even, but yes, I would happily go abroad this morning." He grinned, "which day is it, anyway?"

Jace threw a pillow at him but quickly apprised him of all that had happened during his indisposition, as he readied himself for the day. Adan sat quietly contemplating all his friend said, especially concerning Briane. Said he at last, "poor girl! At last we see eye to eye, and yet I am still lost to her."

Jace smiled slightly, "I would not worry too much over her sad plight, I think she was already resigned to the fact long ago." His smile became mischievous, "besides, our friend Hawk seems determined to win the forsaken lady's heart and she is not indifferent to his attentions." Said he with a sigh, "I think she has given us both up for lost causes!"

Adan nodded, "a sundering from our closest friends and kin is not a bad thing, I think, considering our current occupation." He smiled teasingly, "at least you are not completely bereft of friends, though I must say you tried valiantly to be well rid of me."

Jace wore a mock scowl, "and I would have succeeded too, had you not poked your nose in where it least belonged."

They shared a laugh, then Adan shrugged, "well, as long as we are stuck with one another, what say you to a little breakfast?"

They headed to the dining hall, where they found Jay still trying to woo every female of his acquaintance with no apparent success. He was growing desperate, as his father's arrival was imminent, for the man was as consistent as the moon in its phases when it came to his yearly route, always arriving in the same town on the same day, year after year. Jay sat sullenly by himself, glowering over his oatmeal, scanning the room for any young lady to whom he had not yet paid court. Adan and Jace sat on either side of him, grinning like maniacs. He glared at them, mostly out of annoyance that Briane had been the first to reject him, which he blamed as setting the precedent for his subsequent failures. Said he at last to the irksome pair, "unless you can use your vaunted skills to conjure me a bride, I have no time for fraternizing."

They exchanged a surprised and disappointed look, took up their trays, and bid their annoyed companion good day, even as he found the forty seventh object of his affections. They settled at a small table in a forgotten corner, only to have Briane discover them immediately. She studied them with an all too knowing smile and said at last, "so the bedridden man emerges at last."

Adan smiled sheepishly around a spoonful of cereal and said, "hello Brie."

She held out her hand, suddenly bashful, and as he took it, she said, "we are still friends, right?"

He smiled wholeheartedly and she relaxed, saying, "good, I don't think we can be anything but, however."

He stared at her in astonishment, thinking he was the one who would have to sever the romantic ties between them, if any yet remained; he recovered himself and said, "nay dear heart, you are now my sister, always and forever."

She smiled gratefully at him, gave her brother a playful wink, and then dashed off to where Hawk and his friends sat on the far side of the room, leaving the mystified pair in her wake. They exchanged a befuddled, but relieved look, and then returned to the business at hand: breakfast.

Baye found them shortly thereafter, said he with curiosity in his voice, "we are summoned to the Lady, my lads, off we go." They stood, obediently following after, wondering what this audience portended.

They entered the Lady's presence with all the proper formalities while she studied them as if she were not quite certain what to do with them, for in truth she was not. Said she as they straightened from their bows, "I have been informed, Baye," said she with only slight exasperation, "that you are in need of not one, but two apprentices, to keep you out of trouble. What ever it is you are up to, you had best take Adan with you." Almost pleadingly, she asked, "and keep me informed as much as you can." Baye bowed his acquiescence, feeling rather sorry for the Lady, who no doubt felt her authority trampled under foot by a certain intrepid servant with no further explanation forthcoming.

As they retreated from the Lady's audience chamber, Baye turned to his apprentices and said, "I am sure we'll soon be off, as it is rare that I am in Astoria this long. That being said, Adan, there are things you must learn ere we leave." Jace grinned like a fool, knowing he would get to help teach Adan at least one vital skill; Baye gave him a patient look but shook his head in amusement as they made their way out of the castle. Said he as they rode out of Astoria, "let us hope we have no more inadvertent witnesses, I do not need three apprentices!"

Adan proved a far better student in the area of concentration than Jace, which was not surprising as he had always been the thoughtful, level-headed one of the pair. Jace unfortunately did not realize his hope of helping Baye teach Adan to concentrate, rather the moment they were outside the city, a unicorn in all his unveiled glory galloped directly up to him, terrifying his poor horse so much that the beast threw his rider and dashed headlong back to the city, leaving Jace to pick himself up and confront the beast. Baye said in farewell, "we'll leave you two to get acquainted," he grinned, "and maybe he can teach you how to properly sit a horse." They continued on their way and Jace gave the overly amused unicorn a significant look, which he roundly ignored. With a sigh, Jace approached the wondrous beast, but the stallion easily sidestepped and avoided any contact with the boy. He gave the boy a teasing glance, tossed his head eagerly, and challenged the lad to catch him.

Frowning in annoyance, but soon catching the creature's playful spirit, he raced after the unicorn as he raced for the woods. Only when they were well away from prying eyes did the unicorn stay his flight and allow the boy's approach. The moment Jace touched the glorious creature a blinding pulse of light consumed them both. Blinking in wonder, Jace looked to the unicorn in befuddlement, wondering what it was that had just happened. The creature snorted impatiently, as if explaining something painfully obvious, causing Jace to smile in spite of himself; the beast was as impetuous and headstrong as he himself was.

It seemed that that initial touch somehow did to the unicorn whatever it was that had happened to Jace during his vanishment into the Master's very presence, happily the creature was not gone for several days and did not then require as much time again to recover his senses. The unicorn whickered his amusement but then turned eager eyes upon his companion, wondering why he wasn't yet mounted. Jace shook his head in wonder, but did as the impatient creature bade him; they immediately set off to find their companions. By the time they trotted into the clearing where Adan and Baye had secreted themselves, Adan had proved himself an excellent student, at least in that particular area.

Jace gaped in surprise, "it took me hours!"

Baye grinned, "maybe that will teach you to think before you leap into action."

Adan chimed in, "at least he has millennia to learn such a useful skill, but it still may not be enough."

Jace gave them both a patient look as Baye suggested they ride back to the castle and see if the swordmaster had time for a private lesson. Jace grinned in anticipation, thinking this might be his chance to redeem himself, for if he were more heedless than Adan, at least they were an even match with the sword. Adan gave him a playful wink as his unicorn dashed off with all haste back to Astoria with Jace close on his heels, his stallion determined not to lose the impromptu race. Baye and his mount exchanged an exasperated sigh at the exuberance of their juniors, returning to the city at a far more sensible pace, easily catching the boys as they became mired in the midday crowds.

Jace suddenly caught sight of Jay wandering dejectedly through the haphazard collection of wagons, tents, and booths that made up the open air market on the edge of the city. He dismounted, pushing his way through the milling throng, and approaching his friend with all haste. Jay caught his eye, but did not seem all that eager to see his companion of former days, but at least he stood still to await his approach. Said Jace as he drew to a stop, "why so glum my friend?"

Jay shook his head in dismay, "my father is not here. He promised and he has never broken a promise! It is exactly a year to the day since he left me here and he promised to return exactly a year hence."

Baye and Adan came up alongside them, the former saying, "perhaps he was just delayed, any number of things could have happened to impede him?"

Jay shook his head, "no, something terrible has happened, I know it."

Baye tried to encourage the lad, "just wait a few more days, and if he still has not come, why not go to the Lady?"

Jay frowned skeptically, "I suppose I can wait a few days before doing anything rash, but how will the Lady avail me? It is not as if she'll send anyone to go out looking for him; I'll just have to go myself." He sighed in dejection and vanished into the chaos of the crowd while the Messengers exchanged a grim look, feeling there was far more to the situation than was yet apparent. They turned their steps back towards the castle, all their former enthusiasm forgotten in the sudden foreboding that weighed heavily upon each of them at the thought of Jay and his father.

Said Baye quietly, "I think your first mission is imminent lads, but I fear your friend's father may have found himself in dire straits. I fear for the boy if things have gone ill with his father." Jace and Adan exchanged a grave look, knowing Baye had spoken only too true.

By this time they had reached the weapons practice yard, wherein the swordmaster met them with a strangely bland expression. He eyed Baye curiously and asked, "so the Lady has finally saddled you with young ones, has she?"

Baye smiled, "I am not sure who got stuck with whom, but yes, we have been ordered to keep company together for a time."

The swordmaster studied the pair anew, asking, "any particular reason she picked this pair to accompany you?"

Baye's grin deepened, "rather someone told her it must be so."

The swordmaster snorted in understanding, momentarily showing his right palm to the startled boys, who exchanged a look of astonishment, while their elders grinned amusedly at their expense. Continued the swordmaster in his far more typical gruffness, "we had best put the lads through their paces then, they can't have much longer to loll about the castle if they've been saddled with such a wanderer as you, my friend." He worked them harder than he had ever pushed them before and both might have come away permanently maimed were it not for their peculiar nature, but Baye felt this an opportune time to work on their self healing skills while the swordmaster felt he could push them as hard as they could go, for he now had no fear of either rendering themselves or the other any permanent harm. He even smiled slightly as they finished their workout, "not bad," said he, "not bad at all." He bid Baye a good evening and vanished from the yard.

Baye nodded approvingly at the panting pair, "you lads don't disappoint, but come, you had best get cleaned up and go in for supper." He finished gravely, "I must speak with the Lady." The boys exchanged a curious glance but immediately dashed off as they were bidden.

The Lady had just dismissed the last petitioner of the day and was about to retire for her evening meal when a servant entered, asking after an audience for Baye. A quizzical frown flashed across her brow, but she said solemnly, "admit him at once." But she was not about to sit in that chair one moment longer, she stood and slowly paced the room, waiting for his arrival, intending to conduct the interview in a most scandalous fashion, at least as sticklers of protocol would see it, but the man and his comrades had thrown decorum to the wind so often of late that she actually relished the idea of doing it herself. She stopped suddenly and gave a rueful shake of her head, laughing at her own impropriety and enjoyment thereof, as if she were naught but a Student again and Baye the handsome boy that had teased her so dreadfully. She smiled wistfully in remembrance, was that really two centuries ago? She sighed heavily, turning to look directly into the eyes of her foremost Messenger. She caught a quick gleam of sympathetic understanding in his gaze before it was lost to his very proper bow.

She gathered her tattered composure about her like a shredded garment, saying stiffly, "walk with me, please."

He bowed his head in acknowledgement and fell into step beside her, a curious light in his eyes, but he said nothing until she bade him speak. Said he at last, "my heart is uneasy within me Lady, I fear soon we will be leaving you."

She smiled slowly, as if his words came as no surprise, "that is true, my old friend, have you ever remained in Astoria for so many days together as you have upon this visit?" His wry smile was answer enough, continued she, "I know you have only remained so long, though it is hardly time enough to call a proper visit, merely for the sake of your apprentices. It is only natural that your skills and presence will soon be required elsewhere now that Jace and Adan are settled into whatever it is you have embroiled yourselves in."

She turned her gaze, full of curiosity and cunning and amusement, upon him, saying with a slight smile, a hint of mischief in her voice, "keep your secrets my friend, I know I shall not be the one to ferret them out, but I must be allowed to muse upon the uncanny facts surrounding you. You are the best and oldest of my Messengers and have returned from missions that were suicide at best, there is far more to the tale than I have yet heard, but perhaps one day all shall be made clear. Take your apprentices and go whither your heart leads, the Master calls, or I shall send you. Farewell my friend." He bowed deeply and left her to muse as she would, a wistful smile upon her lips.

Baye found his apprentices in the dining hall, halfway through their meal; they smiled eagerly at him in anticipation of what he might have to say, but a hint of foreboding hung over them, like clouds covering the sun, dampening their otherwise exuberant greeting. Said he once they had quieted, "what is it lads?"

Jace looked truly uneasy, said he in a pensive tone, "Jay did not return for supper."

Baye glanced about and noticed that the meal was truly over, with only here and there a scattered latecomer attending to a nearly depleted plate. Said he, "perhaps he has no appetite in his worry about his father?"

Adan shook his head, "Jay never misses a meal, ever. Even had he word of his father's death, he would not miss a meal unless he were physically absent."

Baye nodded grimly, "he would set out the moment he received word of the tragedy." He frowned, "you think he left this evening in search of his father? He wouldn't get far before full dark!"

Jace said sadly, "it doesn't matter, he wouldn't be able to rest unless he felt he was doing something, even it was only to walk a hundred yards from the keep ere nightfall stayed his flight."

Baye grimaced, "but he seemed content to wait a few days."

Adan sighed, "he was telling the truth at the moment, but he probably changed his mind the moment we left him alone; he can be tempestuous at times."

Baye nodded, "we had best go after him then." His apprentices exchanged a startled but relieved look, as if this were their greatest desire yet they knew it could never be. He continued grimly, "this may be a complete waste of time, but I think there is far more to it than that, that is why I went to speak with the Lady. We have her blessing to ride forth whenever we feel the need, and I think the moment has come. If so, your friend is in grave danger, for we do not ride forth on idle quests. We'll leave as soon as you are ready." The lads immediately vacated the table to prepare for their first true adventure, fear for their friend and eagerness for the quest fighting for predominance in their hearts. Baye watched them go with a grim smile and then went to make his own preparations.

Talking to the head groom, Baye discovered that Jay had indeed gone in search of his tardy father, having taken a horse out of the stable within an hour of their meeting in the market. The man was far from pleased, not liking to have his charges out after dark or taken on adventures not sanctioned by the Lady. Baye assured him they would do their best to return both beast and boy as quickly as possible. The man withdrew with dark murmurs that did not bode well for Jay's future with the stableman, should he return. They were soon in their saddles, navigating the nearly deserted streets at a swift trot, switching to a gallop as they left the city and took to the lonely road. The full moon was high and gave plenty of light, even for a mortal horse, to travel easily in the night if the rider kept to the road. They should soon overtake the renegade, for nothing can outrun a unicorn.

Baye's grim prediction seemed to find fulfillment when the unicorns whinnied uneasily and each of their riders felt a frenzied cry of anguish, fury, and grief echo in their minds. Baye said gravely as they pressed on, "some of our comrades are in dire straits this night, and they are close, what you just felt was their unicorns' reaction to the situation; your friend is riding directly into it, whatever it is. Be on your guard."

The lads exchanged a nervous look, not fear of any foe they might encounter, rather an anxiety for the fate of their friend. The ride was interminable, though the miles passed swiftly beneath the feet of their mounts, for each was haunted by an oppressive feeling of dread and disquiet, knowing something far more insidious than an overdue merchant train awaited them. They caught their quarry on the very border of Astoria, the horror that confronted them was well worthy of the foreboding that had accompanied them upon the entire journey. Jay was correct, his father was a stickler for punctuality and would have made it to Astoria that day had he not been waylaid by disaster. Baye was aghast to see such a spectacle on the very border of Astoria. The scene was common enough in the untamed Wilds of the north or in the vast stretches of land unclaimed by any sovereign, but to have it happen upon the very border of a country known as the center of justice and peace in the civilized world was atrocious!

A half burned peddler's wagon, still smoking in the moonlight, sat nearby while another lay on its side, its contents strewn about like a child's toys. The tracks in the grass were witness to the scattered flight of the other wagons in every direction conceivable, save back towards the city. The three dismounted and began to comb the area, hands on their sword hilts. Baye was heartened to see signs that though their livelihood might have been destroyed or stolen, it seemed most of the peddlers had at least escaped with their lives, having fled afoot while their attackers commandeered their wagons and teams, scattering with their plunder while the former owners ran for their lives. But what would make bandits so bold as to attack a merchant caravan on the borders of a civilized country where a patrol might come upon them at any moment?

They found Jay kneeling beside a prone figure at the base of an ancient elm, sobbing like one bereft of his soul. The Brethren knelt on either side of the boy and what must be his father, bruised and battered beyond recognition, but still alive, if barely. The boy was too caught up in his grief to take a fright at the sudden advent of the intruders beside him, but upon recognizing them, he scowled at their impertinent intrusion into his personal sorrow. Worse, Baye ruined what should have been a private moment between Jay and his dying father, as he began to question the dying man, asked he, "what happened here, sir?"

At the strange voice, the man painfully turned his head. Seeing something he liked or trusted in the stranger's face or voice, he gasped, "it isn't just bandits, someone far worse...looking for something...the Eye...the Eye of Phil. It's a glass orb...strange, uncanny thing...it came into my possession over a year ago...I got rid of it as soon as I could, but I wouldn't tell them where or how...they made it look like bandits, he had twenty such to help him...they fled with the wagons." He smiled proudly but grimaced with the effort, "my folk fled...got away...they'll start over," he turned and smiled at his son, "got to see my son too...not a bad way to go." He coughed, spasmed in pain, then continued, "I wouldn't tell them...they tried to force it out of me...it cost me my life...but it was worth it."

He groaned, gasped for air, and then stared, studying Jace in the moonlight, as if seeing a ghost, said he in a breathless whisper, "your Brothers boy, they tried to help...but they were captured...seemed to please the head villain no end...he and two of the bandits drug them off into the trees...the fiends returned alone, smiling like the villains they are." Baye exchanged a grim look with his apprentices, beginning to understand what it was that had happened.

Baye put a firm hand on the man's shoulder and said, "you acted bravely sir, and have not died in vain. Rest easy."

The man grasped his hand, grimacing at the effort, and pleading, "catch them, ere they find the orb, they must not have it." Baye nodded and the man relaxed visibly. The Brethren stood and withdrew, leaving the furious and aggrieved Jay to his solitary vigil at his father's side.

They began a thorough study of the area, trying to decipher exactly what had happened that night. Baye had no doubts that they were dealing with the Brotherhood or of the fate that had befallen their comrades. But what was the Eye of Phil? Some arcane relic of the Brotherhood's no doubt, but who would name it thus? He almost smiled at the thought, but the circumstances were far too grim for mirth of any kind at the moment. They found more signs of flight: trampled vegetation and various items scattered about in the chaos, but no sign of lingering bandits or lurking mages of evil intent. At last they stumbled upon a tragic, but expected sight. At least the two unmoving forms in the uniform of the Brethren were not unexpected, the third figure kneeling over them in careful study was a complete surprise.

The man looked up as he heard their approach, his eyes widened in wonder and pleasure as he stood. Baye wore a grim smile as he too recognized the stranger, said he in astonishment, "Scamp! What are you doing here?"

The incongruously named stranger smiled, "I could ask you the same Baye." He briefly studied the trailing apprentices, raised an eyebrow in question, and asked, "and with these kids in tow besides?"

Baye shook his head, "I was in Astoria briefly after my last mission and seem to have acquired an apprentice or two for my trouble. The lads here are friends of the son of the chief merchant. The boy was distraught when his father failed to return to Astoria on time so set off to see what had come of him. We felt an urgent need to follow."

Scamp scratched his chin thoughtfully and said, "I was tracking a certain member of the Brotherhood, who seems intent on finding some artifact or other that had somehow come into the possession of the head merchant for a time." He glanced down at their dead comrades, said he, "but I came too late. And it seems my quarry has gained himself some new allies."

Baye nodded grimly, "the dying merchant said as much, a pair of bandits accompanied the villain into the trees with our doomed comrades." He sadly studied the pair: a Warrior and his apprentice, a lad of an age with his own, no wonder the merchant had looked at Jace askance. Each had had his throat cut to sate the blood price required upon an initiate joining the Brotherhood of the Serpent. He explained as much to his horrified apprentices, awkwardly trailing off as he caught a glimpse of Jay hiding in the bushes, listening with fascination and revulsion, but he had no time to react before they were all rather preoccupied with said villain and his new apprentices. Jay wisely vanished entirely into the underbrush as swords flashed in the moonlight.

The villains had crept upon them unawares as they stood mournfully over their slain comrades, striking when it became obvious the fools had no idea where the Eye of Phil might be. When Jay had found the wreckage of the merchant train, the fiends had just determined that they would get nothing out of the doomed merchant, but the unexpected advent of the boy, obviously one closely associated with either the merchant or his folk, might prove useful. They abandoned their victim and hid themselves in hopes of hearing something to their advantage but only glimpsed the sentimental drivel that passes between a dying man and his only son. Then the Brethren had waltzed in, but still nothing of use was revealed, except that the man was telling the truth when he said he was no longer in possession of the Eye. The advent of a fourth Brother, one who had apparently been hunting them, only confirmed what they already knew. It was time to tie up the loose ends before a patrol happened along or the survivors brought word to the Lady and she mustered her forces.

Scamp fell with a blade in his back before they even knew they were under attack. Adan and Jace proved an even match for the dark apprentices while Baye was not impressed with their master, who knew himself no match for the surviving Brother and summoned his vile reptilian mount to flee. Baye would have given chase, but he saw Jay peeping out of the shrubbery, watching in wonder while the vile man eyed the boy speculatively as he turned his monster and fled. Growling under his breath, he pursued the suddenly terrified Jay rather than the villain, emerging from the undergrowth several moments later with the sullen lad in tow. Ordering the boy to stay put, he then jumped into the ongoing fray between the apprentices and quickly settled the dispute, the vile initiates receiving far worse than they gave. Jace had been stabbed in the arm while Adan looked rather rakish with a dripping wound slanting across his forehead; neither of their foes had survived.

After quickly assessing the situation, Baye turned grim eyes upon Jay, "how much did you hear ere we were interrupted?"

The boy glared at him, all insolence, grated he, "what does it matter? Would you lock me up or kill me to ensure my silence?"

Baye said quietly, "this vile group is known to but few, if word should inadvertently spread before the proper time, the results might be disastrous."

Jay sneered, "you Brethren and your secrets! I will do as it pleases me, thank you very much. How dare you interpose your fanaticism between me and my dying father and impose secrecy upon something that should not be hidden!"

Baye shook his head, "I do not make the rules lad but it is unwise to thwart them, and as for coming between you and your father, he carried information that might be vital in preventing another such tragedy. I take it by your presence here that he is dead?" Jay nodded sullenly and Baye continued, "we have our own dead to see to, if you wish to bury him alongside our comrades you may."

Jay sneered at the fallen Brethren, "little enough good they did anyone, it is probably better this way." He glared at Baye, "I can attend to my own affairs, thank you!" He turned on his heel and stalked away.

Baye caught Jace's eye and said, "you had best see to that wound lad, the blades carried by members of the Brotherhood are often tainted with vile spells. Afterwards, see what you can do for your friend, he's in a very fragile state and liable to do something he might long regret, especially if he is as rash as you say." Jace nodded and dashed off after his friend, the wound healing as he ran, leaving the others to bury their dead. Their haunting song of grief and hope eternal carried on the breeze, sending chills and an indescribable thrill up Jace's spine.

He found Jay sitting morosely beside his father; he glowered at his old friend as Jace intruded once more upon his grief. "Go away," snarled he, "have you not already caused me grief enough?"

Jace frowned, "how so?"

Jay growled, "you really have no idea, do you? In absolutely everything you were better or stronger or faster than me; I was always second best. Even when you should have fallen to your death, no one was worried about me, only that the darling boy of Astoria might be injured! Then you took up with the Brethren, and even in your social disgrace, people still compared everything anyone did to how you might have done it, as if you had died at the peak of your potential. Even the girls, who knew they had absolutely no chance of winning your heart, looked at me askance in comparison to you! I am tired of standing in your shadow, of being overlooked, and of being second best and an afterthought."

He stood, knife in hand, casting one brief, miserable glance at his father before eyeing Jace hungrily, "I have lost everything this night; I have nothing left to me in Astoria. Thanks to you, I will never amount to anything there. I had hoped to return home to my father and take up his way of life, but that is gone too. But I heard things tonight, saw them with my own eyes, things that make me wonder if there is yet something for me to do. A way to make myself better than you." He hefted the dagger, "perhaps those fiends were right in their treatment of your ilk. Is that why you keep their Brotherhood a secret? So people like me don't go out looking for them?"

Jace was not intimidated by the knife, knowing he was the far better combatant between the two of them, his curious nature not withstanding, but he was terrified for his friend, of what he might do in his grief and fury, but he was not left to linger in that mire of anxiety, for a far greater dread and terror suddenly fell upon them both. Somewhere a unicorn whinnied in terror and all about them the night became as black as the Nothing Jace had momentarily experienced after his fall, but it was not the Nothing that surrounded them, but a hostile darkness brimming over with feelings of dread, horror, hatred, fear, shame, sorrow, and despair: a horrid stew from which there could be no escape. But then came the Voice, and that was somehow even worse.

It mocked them both, "what think you little mortals? That you can somehow escape that which is your deserved fate? You are mine to do with as I please!"

Jay's voice croaked desperately out of the dark, "please spare me, I will do whatever you ask!" He paused and then said in quiet fury, "I want power, glory, and revenge!"

The fell voice laughed harshly, as if it came from the throat of a highly amused raven, "perhaps there is hope for you yet, wretch. But think you that this fool's blood will suffice for the price?" The laugh was scornful this time, "behold! Yet more secrets and betrayal, for he is not what you take him to be. I demand life and blood shed on my behalf, but this pitiful creature has neither. He has sold himself utterly to my Enemy and is no longer possessed of either, being a mere ghost haunting the world in mortal visage."

As the voice gloated, Jace felt his disguise being stripped away and the carefully concealed light within him breaking forth, not in blinding intensity, but enough that Jay gasped in horror at his onetime friend's otherworldly appearance and took a step away from his only companion in this unreal netherworld of darkness. Gasped he in fury and horror at the radiant Jace, "what are you? Why did you not tell me?"

Jace met his gaze evenly, his own radiance their only source of light, "the Lady herself is unaware of the situation. It is a secret kept from all who have no part in it; I cannot say more."

Jay shook his head frantically in disbelief, "no! It cannot be true! Lies and more lies, secrets within secrets? Who am I to trust, what am I to believe?"

"No one!" scoffed the vile voice, "not even me, most especially me! But I will give you what you desire, for a time, the end is always the same, but you might as well enjoy life to the fullest while it lasts. But I still require blood."

Jay's eyes widened, "but you said his would not suffice? The others?"

The voice laughed in scorn, "they are as pathetic and useless as this one. But yours will do."

Jace screamed in horror, "no Jay! It cannot be worth it, don't do this..." He was suddenly silenced as great coils of blackness, like the arms of some tentacled sea beast, wrapped about him; they would have crushed him utterly were he wrought of anything but his Master's light.

Jay watched in grim delight, then faced the direction from whence the voice spoke, "do as you have said. Give me power in exchange for blood, even be it my own." The triumphant laughter that followed was the most hideous sound Jace had or ever would hear, save for the horrified croak that escaped Jay as he suddenly convulsed in agony, his hands trying to stem his suddenly bleeding throat, his entire being growing suddenly dark and misty, fading into the whelming dark about them. Jace saw a furtive shadow dart from sight with a pathetic wail as he lost all control or sense of himself as the night-wrought tentacles crushed with all their horrid strength and the Light consumed everything.

As he blinked back to consciousness, Jace noticed that the darkness had fled, leaving only the wan grey and rose of early dawn, as if it were all a bad dream. Baye knelt over him, a grim expression on his face; Adan and Scamp stood at a distant, confusion and dread radiating from their features. Only then did Jace realize he was still glowing, with a rueful grimace he schooled himself to normality and took Baye's offered hand, soon gaining his feet. Baye studied him for a moment, relief plain on his face, as he said, "what happened? Where is your friend?"

Jace shook his head in wonder, grief tumbled over him like a tidal wave as he remembered what it was that had just happened. He told the tale, at least all he could remember, the others drawing close to listen, their faces a study in horror and grief as the tale unfolded. Baye shook his head grimly, "a fell tale that, lad. What has come of your friend indeed?! Has our Enemy at last created a foe to rival the Shadow?"

They exchanged uneasy glances and an awkward silence for a moment, until Jace at last asked, "what happened last night? What is the Brotherhood up to? What is this preposterously named Eye of Phil?" He turned curious eyes on Scamp, "so he is the last of our number," he added with a smile, "but however did you come by such a name?"

This lightening of mood and change of subject was precisely what the foursome needed to break the unsettling spell that had woven itself about them with Jace's tale. They decided to talk as they rode back to the city, as the wreckage would soon be abuzz with those investigating the debacle and they must apprise the Lady of the disaster, at least as much of it as they were allowed to tell. Scamp began as soon as they were upon the open road with no obvious bystanders to overhear, as had been the tragic case the previous night, said he, "first, upon the serious matter of my name. What my given name is, not even my parents could tell you, for one wished to call me Horace and the other Icabod, yet neither would compromise on something else nor bend to the wishes of the other, so I had no name until about the time I started walking, and getting into trouble, for my father berated me as a naughty little 'scamp,' and I have been called thus ever since."

They shared a much needed laugh, before he sobered significantly and began upon the more serious topic, "as to last night, we buried our slain comrades in the usual manner, but suddenly it grew dreadfully dark and a feeling of utter terror fell upon all of us. We could do naught but hunker down and pray. The evil feeling intensified, grew triumphant for a moment, and then suddenly abated, about the time a blinding flash of light consumed us all. We came to ourselves to find no sign of your friend and you lying senseless and aglow. Adan and I buried the merchant while Baye knelt beside you, waiting for you to waken. It took over an hour for you to regain your senses, but after what you endured, it is a wonder you awoke at all." He smiled ruefully, "but then the Master's power is ever greater than that of our Enemy, so I should not be surprised in the least, nor have we reason to fear whatever it is that has become of your late friend." They all heartily agreed to the last statement with a resounding cheer.

"As to the Brotherhood and this Eye of Phil," Scamp smiled in grim amusement before continuing, "that really is a ludicrous name, and I know something of absurd nomenclature. I have heard rumor of these so-called 'Eyes' before; they are named after the man that willingly sacrifices his life to produce the artifact, in this case Phil was the unwise party. It is theorized, we have no direct knowledge of their use or function, that the orbs can be used to communicate with other members of the Brotherhood, perhaps even with the Nameless One himself, and to spy on distant locations, perhaps the activities of one's evil minions? Quite a useful gadget, certainly, but difficult to replace if lost or destroyed, because it is not in the nature of evil to sacrifice itself for the greater good; finding someone willing to die for the cause when there is no direct benefit to themselves might be well nigh impossible, that is why they are so determined to find this thing before we do or it is permanently lost. How it came to be in the merchant's keeping or who he found to fob it off on, remain to be discovered. Perhaps some of his fled companions might have an answer?"

Jace grimaced, "which means our fled villain will also be looking for the survivors."

Baye shook his head, "he would not have let them flee in the first place had they possessed any information he might have found useful. That he sent them and the bandits away means they were of no more use or interest to him. No, I think the poor man took the secret to his grave, not even his closest kin and companions knew anything of the matter, which is disappointing for us but certainly spared their lives. The question is, who took the orb? He knew it was strange, if not evil, and he did not seem a man who would pass it along to someone if he knew it would bring them trouble, hence someone must have taken it willingly, but who and how did they learn of it if it was a secret even to the merchant's companions?"

Baye trailed off as a company of a dozen of the Brethren approached from the direction of the city, just visible in the distance. They drew rein and waited for their comrades to draw near, knowing whither they were bound. The leader of the company approached Baye, after a brief greeting, he told all he could of the situation. The man thanked him for his appraisal and motioned for his men to follow with all haste; they soon disappeared around a bend in the road and the others continued their journey back to Astoria. The Lady saw them immediately upon their return, informed of the situation by the advent of a group of terrified refugees at the outer gates in the small hours of the morning. Baye's tale was brief and to the point, for there was much he could not tell even the Lady of Astoria, but the news of Jay's disappearance, the death of his father and two of her servants, and news that there was a vile man on the loose willing to kill anyone who impeded his desperate search for some lost artifact was disturbing enough that she did not think to ask if there could possibly be more to the tale, and knowing the teller thereof, he wouldn't likely be any more forthcoming than he already was.

She sighed heavily at these grim tidings, but soon enough was all business again, said she to Scamp, "continue in your pursuit of this villain. I will send Baye and his minions to see if they can track down this sphere, perhaps between you, you can permanently end this menace." They bowed deeply and went to prepare for their quest.

Once alone in the hall, Adan shook his head in mystification, "how are we to accomplish any of this?"

The elder pair exchanged an amused smile at their junior's naiveté, said Baye with a laugh, "you forget we are not just members of a social organization but very servants of the Master, lad. We begin every day with intent and purpose all our own, but whether our aspirations will come to pass or not is always a mystery, to ourselves at least, but the Master knows what will come of the matter, for whatever betide, it is always His will that manifests, whether we are aware of it or not, whether we try to help or hinder it. He will guide us into the plans He has for us and enable us to do what we must in His service. We must trust that some good will come of what may seem a futile quest, perhaps it will be fulfilled as the Lady envisions or perhaps something else entirely will be the result, but we are ever in the Master's will and keeping, thus we have no reason to worry or fear, no matter how frustrating, futile, or hopeless things seem at the moment." They brightened at this reminder of the truth and continued on their way with lighter steps and hearts.

Baye froze in mid-step, causing the others to nearly collide with him, said he, eyeing Jace with an intrigued smile, "Adan and I will interview the surviving peddlers and see if they know aught of this orb, and if not, at least we can get a travel itinerary and trace their steps to see where it might have left their possession. Jace, it suddenly occurs to me that you have something to do in Astoria. May the Master ride with you lad." He grinned the more, placing a firm hand on Jace's shoulder as he gave this benediction and the boy vanished in a flash of light. Adan gaped and Scamp smiled at his surprise.

The sound of running feet brought three sets of eyes up sharply and it was Scamp's turn to gape, for an apprentice came dashing down the hall and barely skidded to a breathless halt before colliding with the three, said Hawk in both eagerness and trepidation to Scamp, "I am to be your apprentice sir, and the Lady said you were leaving this very moment," he stopped to pant worriedly, "I am not too late am I?"

Scamp managed to shut his mouth before anyone but Baye found his surprise amusing, said he in astonishment, "this is certainly a surprise, but no lad, you aren't late. You are ready then?"

The boy nodded eagerly, Baye gave Scamp a far too amused grin, and left the pair to get acquainted. As he walked away, Baye smiled the more as he heard Scamp say, "first and foremost, lad, never call me sir...and yes, that is my name!" Baye exchanged an amused grin with Adan, but soon sobered as their current assignment regained prominence in his mind. How were they to find that dratted orb? Ah well, he'd just have to take his own advice and trust the Master in this, as in all things.

Jace reappeared, blinking in wonder, in a forgotten alley somewhere in the city proper. He studied himself for a moment, knowing he wore a different face, one not known or bound to the Brethren, and his clothes were the finest he'd ever worn. His mission suddenly popped into his head and his heart quailed in dread, but there could be no answer but a wholehearted yes, even if it meant confronting Jay, in whatever manifestation of evil he now appeared. He shuddered, for it would not be pleasant or easy, but it must be done and there was no one else to do it. He crept from the alley, careful that no one notice a seemingly noble youth emerging from such a disreputable place. He made his way into the main thoroughfares of the city and the road that approached the castle itself. He found a small group of people milling about before the city gates, some working up their courage or perfecting their story before approaching the guards while the rest patiently waited their turn.

Jace drew little attention, being just another student come to study, especially when there was certainly someone far more interesting to stare at and whisper about. An individual, literally covered head to toe in concealing garb, was arguing with one of the guards as to whether he should be admitted or not, demanded he, "I must be admitted! It is vital that I be allowed to join the Students!"

The Warrior shook his head, "lad, you must reveal at least your face ere I can allow you into the Keep."

The concealed figure groused, "I am afflicted with an unfortunate condition that renders me very sensitive to light, in fact it might well be deadly! Would you have me risk my life to appease your silly rules?"

The guard turned to one of his companions, saying quietly, "he tells the truth, can we demand more of him?" The second guard shook his head. The first sighed heavily, but said to the lad, "so be it lad, in this case, an exception must be made." He glanced over the small crowd and called aloud, "has anyone else come to study?"

Jace alone stepped forward and the man waved him through, giving the pair into the keeping of Jared, who paid Jace little heed but frowned at the utterly swathed student, as if he sensed something wrong with the lad, besides his strange attire, but he had no idea as to what it might be. He schooled his features to blandness and said to them both, "welcome to Astoria lads, I shall get you settled. Come along." Without comment or protest, the pair followed after. After stopping by the supply room, he saw them tucked into what had once been their shared room, and left, after giving them some instructions as to what to do for the rest of the day and going over some of the basics about life as a Student in Astoria.

After the servant withdrew, the mysterious figure silently drew the drapes over the small window and then bodily blocked the door, said he with menace strong in his voice, but also with a trace of apprehension, "since we must be roommates, let us be done with the awkwardness and foolish questions from the start. Do anything foolish and you will cease to trouble the mortal sphere, am I understood?"

Jace nodded, far more intrigued than terrified, knowing that this strange figure was his late friend and he was about to make some startling, if disquieting, revelation. He removed a cloth mask, took off his gloves, and began to unwrap the strips of fabric that concealed his neck and arms; there was nothing beneath but a smoky mist that might have been mistaken for a shadow. Red eyes glowed like embers in the featureless face. The wraith studied his companion's reaction with approval, said he, "you are not utterly terrified?"

Jace smiled grimly, "this is Astoria, is it not? This is nothing compared to half the tales told of this place! Besides, you could have killed me already without revealing yourself, so it must be something other than murder you intend, at least for the moment."

"You are no fool, nor coward either," said Jay with grudging approval, "I want your blood."

Jace gaped, "then why haven't you taken it?"

Jay shook his head, "I must have it willingly or it will not avail me. I can kill thousands yet still remain...like this."

Jace frowned, "what do I get out of it?"

Jay said with very little enthusiasm, "you can become a wraith like me: you'll never die, possess power unimaginable, and have a purpose in life."

Jace looked skeptical, "you don't sound all that excited about your current predicament?"

Jay snapped, "once I taste willing blood, then I can at least be solid again! You try living like this and see how easy it is!"

Jace nodded, concern and understanding strong in his voice, Jay flinched back in distress or pain, said Jace, "it sounds rather lonely, empty even. What is this purpose you have found?"

Jay shuddered, "I have a master that demands my utmost obedience and success; his least whim is my command."

Jace shook his head, "what if I refuse?"

Jay studied him for a long moment, misery stronger than the menace in his response, "I should destroy you, but that would cause awkward questions and would not help my mission here, besides, I will need someone to help me in the coming days, for I cannot do this alone, at least not in my current incarnation. Perhaps you will desire this for yourself in days to come. Then you need only find one willing to give his blood to you in turn to achieve everything you could ever desire." This last was said as if by rote, there was no passion or eagerness in the expression at all, which strangely caused an eager flutter in Jace's heart.

"So what are you really here for?" asked Jace, a curious smile on his face, "I mean, besides for blood and all that."

Jay shook his head, "I have misplaced an item that my master is most desirous of having returned to the keeping of his servants." He brightened significantly, taking in Jace's dress and demeanor, "you may be just what I need. You are nobly bred?" Jace's growing panic was answer enough, as the wraith continued, "I foolishly left the item in the keeping of a young noblewoman of my acquaintance, hoping it would somehow endear me to her, but she only has an eye for young noblemen." His voice grew threatening and menace hummed in the air, "you will strike up an acquaintance, and perhaps a romance with this young woman, using your influence to get back that which I have lost."

Jace said in a strained whisper, "what happens if she doesn't like me?"

The menace became dismay but a slight smile tinged his voice, "she is headstrong to be sure so this plan may be entirely vain, but I would appreciate it if you would at least try."

Jace grinned, "why not just ask? It will go much easier between us if you do not threaten or coerce to gain what you want; if it is not something I can accomplish, I will refuse and nothing you say or do will change that, so you might as well skip the theatrics and either kill me outright or try to be reasonable."

Jay stared at him in astonishment, "I had expected terror, horror, or one who would do anything for the power I possess, yet you stand here and barter like a woman in the fish market, you reason like a man of sense and honor." He sighed heavily, "I am not yet so lost to evil that I cannot respect that, nay, I much prefer it. We shall act as two men of honor, you and I, we shall pretend for a time that I am not what I am."

Jace wore a thoughtful frown, "your master does not know you have this item, does he?"

Jay looked up in surprise, "no, and I would wish it to remain so, for if he learns that I lost it, it will not go well with me. I know he and his minions seek it fervently and I hope to gain much by its return."

Jace's frown deepened, "is your master so generous to his servants?"

Jay shook his head morosely, "he promises much, but it is empty, I am doomed to an eternity of such servitude, and then endless night."

Jace's eyebrows rose, "and you want me to willingly embrace this fate as well?"

Jay keened in desperation, "what would you have me do? I am ordered to do just that! To make an army of such dreadful, hopeless creatures and then destroy all within this place who will not bow before us." He brightened slightly, "but I have some time yet and perhaps the orb might spare us all." He smiled sardonically, though he had no features but eyes, "we shall be but boys for a time; innocent, joyous boys," he trailed off and finished with quiet finality, "and then utter night." They were silent for a long agonizing moment and then Jay continued as if nothing unsettling had just been said, "we had best begin our brief career as Students; you have a lady to win."

Jace shook his head, "I will not even try to win her heart. I will be friendly and make her acquaintance but I will not deceive her or falsely court her; I am no cad.

Jay studied him for a long moment then nodded, "so be it." He frowned, "what is your name?"

Jace said, "you can call me Ace. And what about you?"

The wraith frowned, he had not thought of that, said he, "call me Jake." He donned the Student uniform, covered his ghastly lack of features, and then motioned for Jace to lead the way out of the room. Jared had recommended a beginner's sword lesson as their first class of the day, if they were not too tired from their journey that is. Jace grinned in anticipation, wondering if the swordmaster would be as oblivious to his true identity as Jared had been. His smile died aborning as he considered what the other students would think of the mysteriously draped 'Jake,' and what that reaction would do to his already dismal situation. He shuddered, hoping his late friend did not act out in fury or despair.

They reached the practice yard without incident, the swordmaster was just putting away the assorted implements used by the previous class when the pair wandered into his demesne. He studied them quietly for a moment and asked, "new students? Here for the next class?" They nodded and he looked at Jay in some concern, asked he, "is this something you should attempt with your delicate condition lad?"

Jay said harshly, "I cannot abide the light sir, otherwise I am in nowise imperiled."

"Easy lad!" said the swordmaster in surprise, "I meant no offense, I was only concerned about your health." Jay huffed, apparently appeased, as the man continued, "now it will be a few minutes before the rest of the class gets here, they've had a few lessons already so might be a bit ahead of you, but I'll get you caught up soon enough, don't you worry." He retreated for a moment and returned with two wooden practice swords, handing one to each lad, "now," said he, "I'll teach you the basics."

He barely managed to dodge out of the way as Jay leapt upon Jace with a speed and fury that surprised them both, but the latter was no novice and instinctively reacted, blocking the incoming blow with ease and quickly countering with his own. They whirled in a wild dance of parry and thrust accompanied by the near rhythmic clack of wood against wood until the swordmaster bellowed, "enough!"

So startled were the combatants at the interruption, having lost themselves entirely to the deadly dance, that they both dropped their blades and stared at the swordmaster, aghast with embarrassment. He glared at them stonily, turning first to Jay and demanding, "what was that?"

Jay shrugged, his voice sheepish, "it has been a trying day sir, I felt the need to vent some of my frustration." He glanced at Jace and grinned, "at least my companion is a worthy foe."

The swordmaster said aghast, "you could have killed him, practice sword not withstanding." His voice became more puzzled than angry, "and what are the pair of you doing in a beginner's class if you can fight like that?" He ruefully answered his own question, "they had no idea you had any sword experience and put you here by default. Well, you'll have to attend a more advanced class after this," finished he with a scowl, "that is if I ever let you touch a sword again after that little stunt." Just then more students began to arrive and he was forced to attend to other matters, but as punishment for their reckless outburst, he made these experienced swordsmen go through the motions of actually learning to hold a sword for the first time; a fate he found pleasantly ironic. As the students dispersed for the midday meal, the swordmaster turned to his newest pupils and said, "I will see you both tomorrow in the advanced class," he turned to Jay, "I need to address a few matters with your companion here, I'll send him in to lunch when I've finished with him, assuming he still has an appetite." He turned a stony gaze on Jace, causing an involuntary shudder from the boy while Jay grinned beneath his wrappings and dashed off.

Once they were alone, the swordmaster drew the boy aside, saying quietly, "what have you become entangled in lad?"

Jace brightened, though he tried to appear contrite for anyone who might be watching, said he in all eagerness, "you recognize me?"

The swordmaster grinned wryly, "your face may change lad, but a man's peculiar way with a sword will give him away every time." He sobered, "I recognize your companion too, but he so reeks of evil that I don't know how the guards let him through the gates." He frowned in consternation, "I suppose they can't sense it like we can. What has he done to himself?" Jace told him all he knew, causing the man's concern to deepen tenfold, but a thoughtful look entered his eyes, said he at last, "perhaps there is yet hope for him. But if not, can you do what you must?"

Jace sighed heavily, "it will not be easy, but I will do what I must."

The man nodded grimly, "that is all we can do. You'd best get back to him before he has a chance to get himself into mischief." He smiled wryly, "not that you are the best chaperone, mischief maker that you are." Jace dashed off, trying to appear chastened.

He found Jay sitting in a corner by himself, an untouched plate of food before him, taken more for appearances than necessity. Jace seated himself beside the glum figure and smiled sheepishly, "next time you feel like attacking someone, how about just asking to spar?"

Jay shuddered in horror, "do you have any idea what those words remind me of?" Jace's heart sank, he did in fact have an excellent idea, but Jay continued, "my best friend tried to goad me into just such a situation and nearly fell to his death." He was quiet a moment and continued bitterly, "it changed everything about him and between us and eventually it did kill him."

Jace flinched, wondering how Jay could think him dead when it occurred to him that that last brilliant flash during their last encounter might have been interpreted as his own undoing. Said he quietly, "are you so certain you have lost him forever?"

Jay turned haunted eyes upon his companion, "I have lost everything save this miserable existence. I'll never see any of them again: my mother, my papa, my friend. They trusted the Master but he is a fickle, powerless lord, if he exists at all. My fell master will triumph over everything in the end."

Jace said quietly, "I do not see matters as you. If your kith and kin have placed their hope in the Master, they are far from lost, save to those who abandon Him."

Jay looked up in horror, "you mean like me?"

Jace nodded sadly, "it would appear that way, but you are not utterly lost, at least not yet."

Jay shook his head grimly, "do you know what it would cost me to forsake my ties to the darkness?"

Jace said quietly, "your very life but it would spare your soul." Jay frowned thoughtfully but could make no reply as a very comely young lady, who walked as if she owned the world, approached.

Both of the boys scrambled to their feet, as protocol demanded, and hastened to make their courtesies as Ella smiled condescendingly at their antics. She said imperiously to Jace, giving Jay only a brief, dismissive look, "you are said to be a noble's son?"

Jace bowed his head and replied, "at your service, my lady."

She lifted her chin and gazed down her nose at him, as if he were a horse she had taken an interest in, "then come take a turn with me ere the meal is finished." He bowed his acquiescence and felt Jay's eager but pained gaze upon him as he and Ella left the dining hall to walk about on the great, walled-in lawn. She chatted of this and that, never of anything important or interesting nor asking anything of her companion. As they were returning to the dining hall, she ordered, "you will attend me at the evening meal." Then she turned away and was gone.

Jace was left gaping, the girl had been cold and conceited upon her arrival but had thawed significantly in the interim; the woman who had just dismissed him was even stonier and more frigid than she had been on her first day in Astoria. It was the same conceit and indifference but ripened and fossilized with age, all her growth and warmth had vanished like mist in the sun, displaced by her determination to marry well, and soon, and then take her place in society. Jace sighed heavily and returned to the corner where Jay awaited him, both shame and curiosity radiating from him like heat off of a stove.

Said Jace, "she's a veritable Ice Queen, that one. I don't think she cares who or what she marries, as long as he is of noble blood and won't unduly embarrass her."

Jay sighed heavily, "that she is, I am almost sorry for you. Has she vowed never to see you again?"

Jace shook his head and grinned wryly, "I am ordered to dine with her this night."

Jay almost smiled, "then I am truly sorry for you."

Their next class after the midday meal proved to be far less controversial than their sword class, mostly because it did not involve sharp, pointy objects. They were bidden to a gathering of neophytes upon the great walled in lawn where one of the Teachers stood, ready to regale them with a tale any long-term dweller in Astoria probably knew by heart.

Jay groused quietly as they seated themselves with the wide-eyed innocents about them, "must I endure this sentimental drivel once again?"

Jace replied, "perhaps if you take it seriously, rather than just enduring it, you may discover something worth living for, a hope that is not yet beyond your grasp."

Jay sighed, "you are as blindly idealistic as any of these Brethren!"

Jace grinned, "thank you!"

They grew silent as the last of the Students sat and the Teacher began in a voice so lyrical he might well have been singing, his audience thus entranced, he began:

"Long ago, when the world was young and men still walked in innocence, an ancient king made an alliance with the terrible god of war. In exchange for the life of his maiden daughter, he would receive power to conquer all the kingdoms of men and have dominion over all mortal lives. The night was dark with neither star nor moon giving light or hope to those who gathered upon the face of that forbidden hill to commence with their evil deed. The king had gathered all of his generals and advisors to stand as witnesses. The girl was brought forward and the hood removed from her head. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she stared with pleading eyes into the cold and remorseless depths of her father's eyes. She saw neither love nor regret there, only a thirst for power beyond the reach of mortal ken. He drew forth a cruel knife from a sheath of black leather. Very soon the alliance would be sealed and no power on earth could withstand him. He approached the girl with a cruel and mirthless smile and raised the blade to strike.

He was thrown back from the girl and blinded by a cold light, and all standing around the pair fell to the ground in fear. Like a bolt of lightning, a bright and terrible figure stood between the man and his prey. The king regained his footing with a sneer and a triumphant laugh. "You have no authority here," he scoffed, "be gone before I become violent."

The light receded slightly and those standing about could make out a vaguely equine shape amidst the glow. The figure reared up on its hind legs and pawed the air. He appeared in the form of a horse but with the awe reserved for a charging bull or roaring lion. Then he spoke, "you must not do this terrible thing. You will forever tear apart the laws that bind the world together."

"I will do as I please," scowled the king, "and there is nothing you can do to stop me."

"If you are set upon this course I cannot stop you by force, but perhaps I can offer you an exchange," said the figure.

"What can you possibly offer me," growled the king with the light of avarice in his eyes.

"The foul demon with whom you are dealing demands innocent blood for your vile contract, so be it! Take mine instead of the girl's," said the mysterious figure.

"Yours!" gasped the king, "but of what advantage is that to you?"

"To ransom the life of this dear child shall be gain enough," said the figure.

"Very well," said the king. "I have a feeling my master will be quite pleased with the exchange. What is one small child when the blood of his enemy is laid at his feet? What are your terms?"

"Give me one hour to bear this child to safety, then I will return hither and you may do as we have agreed," said the figure.

"How do I know you will not steal the child and disappear?" asked the king.

"You know very well I do not lie," roared the figure. He swept the child onto his back and as the light disappeared over the rim of the hill called back, "in one hour I shall return."

For a time the girl clung silently to the back of her rescuer but as the horror of what she had so nearly escaped sunk in she began to sob uncontrollably. "Do not weep little one," said the figure, "you are safe and all will be well."

"How can you say that?" sobbed the girl, "evil is about to be unleashed upon the earth and no one will be able to stop it."

"I can," said he softly. A sense of immense peace fell upon the girl and dried her tears. Shortly, they approached a small cottage by the edge of a little stream that chattered invisibly in the night. A woman emerged from the door and wrapped a blanket around the quivering form of the girl. She bowed once to the retreating figure and took the child into the house. The girl fell into bed and knew no more that night. The woman stared into the darkness, tears streaming down her cheeks. Within the hour agreed upon, the figure returned to that forsaken hilltop. His light was dimmed to the slight flickering of a dying candle. He stood before the men with a drooping head but a righteous fire blazed in his eyes. The king laughed him to scorn, drew his blade, and approached the apparently cowed creature. Steel flickered in the light as the blade struck home. The light dimmed and went out. As if from a vast distance, a great wailing cry rent the night, as if the earth itself had been mortally wounded by the blow. A wind came howling out of the west and clouds blotted out the sky. Darkness engulfed the world, lightning flashed in the heavens, and thunder rolled as if all creation reared up in fury at the atrocity that had occurred. The hill itself began to roll like a wave on the sea and split in two. The men were thrown from their feet and retreated in confusion and fear from the horror before them. Their horses reared and snorted, broke loose, and disappeared into the storm.

"What have you done!" roared one general over the wind. "

I have loosed the wrath of the heavens," screamed the king. A panic spread among them and all fled into the darkness.

The next morning, the girl rode up the accursed hill hoping to find some trace of her rescuer. She found the vile blade broken in two, but no sign of the mysterious glowing figure. She dismounted and peered with dismay into the gaping chasm that had once been the heart of the hill. "What is it you seek?" asked a voice behind her.

With a shriek of pure joy she flung her arms around the figure that now stood at her shoulder, glowing like the sun. "You are alive!" she said.

"Yes," said he simply.

"But what of last night?" asked she, "I was sure you had been slain. What of that horrible shriek and the dreadful darkness?"

"My life cannot be taken against my will. Before anything ever was and after all has passed into nothing, I was and ever will be. I laid down my life not only for you, but for all things that would have been utterly destroyed by the acts of last night. Your blood would have strengthened that foul demon beyond anything he has yet achieved. My blood offered willing in exchange for another's broke his power. What began in selfishness and evil, ended in selflessness and love, which alone has power to conquer the darkness. He has been vanquished but not destroyed. He still lurks in the world, full of malice and hate and ready to assist any who give themselves over to a lust for power and destruction. Until last night, mankind had lived in peace and harmony with one another and with all creation, but that peace has been shattered. Man has shown himself vulnerable to evil, willing to place himself above all else, even his own children. It is no longer safe to assume that all men are good in and of themselves. Each individual must hereafter make a decision to follow what is right and good, or to follow his own selfish path into evil and darkness. From the dawn of mankind, it was given into your hands to decide whether to pursue goodness or darkness. A member of your race has chosen the ultimate evil and with his fall, all are now required to make a decision that once came naturally to all."

The girl fell sobbing at his feet, feeling in herself the dreadful truth she had just heard spoken. It was as if something inside her had been torn or ripped away and she was left with a gaping hole, much like the defiled face of the hill. Looking up into his eyes, she said, "I have lost something within myself. I am no longer whole. I have a longing, a desire for something. Something, though I know not what. Something greater than myself."

"Yes," said he, "your whole race now shares that same longing. And with what you fill that hole will determine the course of your life, and the lives of all those around you, from now and ever onwards. Choose carefully."

"Can I choose you?" she asked hesitantly.

A smile crept over his face and the whole hillside seemed to laugh with joy. "Of course," he said. "After last night, the world is hurting and needs to be told these things which you have just heard. I need someone to go forth and tell them. Bring your horse forward."

The girl ran over to the horse which had strayed and was happily nibbling at weeds upon the far side of the hill. She led the beast towards the figure. The stallion pulled back against the reins and nearly reared, trying to avoid the glowing figure before him. "Do not be afraid my simple beast," said the figure, "from now and ever onwards, you and your descendants will no longer be considered simple." The figure turned his side towards the girl and for the first time she saw the gaping wound in his side. From it dribbled a steady stream of silver blood. She gasped in horror and drew back. "Do not be afraid," he said, "this is the price of last night's adventure. Though much was lost, much good also came of it. Take a drop of my blood on your finger and place it on the horse's tongue." Hesitantly the girl complied. Almost reverently she poked a finger into the sliver stream and placed a drop of the precious fluid into the horse's mouth.

An indignant snort was followed by a blinding flash. She no longer held a horse by the reins but a unicorn. The sorrel coat had become white as the snow; wisdom and fire were in his once placid and simple eyes. Cloven hooves of silver had replaced his single hooves of grey. A silver horn protruded proudly from his forehead. He shook his head in disgust a few times and looked with dismay at the girl and the glowing figure.

"Remove his bit," laughed the figure. The girl complied and the unicorn seemed much happier. "Now it is your turn," said he. The girl looked with shock and disgust at the gaping hole in the figure's side and turned pleading eyes to his. "If you really wish to serve me, you must taste of my blood," he said, "by doing so you are binding yourself to me and my purposes. You will gain much in wisdom and abilities but in doing so you are also swearing to serve me, even with the forfeit of your life be it necessary. Do you wish to proceed?"

She nodded and did as she was bidden. She seemed to grow taller and a thirst for knowledge grew within her. A deeper understanding of things once hidden to mortal mind blossomed in her heart. She had changed as much as the horse.

"Now," said the figure," I will tell you of things long hidden to the race of men, things vital to your quest. The demon of war, to whom your father nearly sacrificed you, was once my greatest servant. But he desired things beyond his grasp and made an attempt to supplant me as The Master of All. He was banished from my presence and ever since has made war upon all that is good and wonderful. He has claimed lordship over all creation and still yearns for the power he cannot have. Until last night, he had made little progress in his war against me, but last night there came a breaking. Men, who had once lived in peace, have heeded his call and some have broken away from me seeking the power promised by their new master. Now all must decide whether to follow him or me. None can sit this out. By stepping aside, they are simply declaring themselves for him, if only by doing nothing. This is war a war that has raged since before the world began, there can be no civilians. He will devour everything if all stand aside and let him. I will only do so much. I am Master of all things, but I have given all sapient creatures a choice, and upon that freedom I will not trespass. They must choose what is right or what is evil. I will not infringe upon their decisions for good or ill. If they choose the right, I can assist them, but if they choose the evil I can only stand aside and weep for their ill choices and dire fate. That is why I could not interfere directly in the affairs of last night. It is up to you, and those like you: my servants, to pursue evil in whatever form or guise it takes and do what you must to defeat it and to defend the innocent. You must spread word of this through all lands and to all peoples. It will not be easy and there will be great heartache along the way but you will never be alone; it must be done or evil will consume the world and all within it. Last night a deadly blow was dealt to my enemy, but he is still lurking about and still very powerful. In the end, he will be completely vanquished but until that final day, you are all that stands between the world and devastation. A rent has been created in the hearts of men. They will yearn for me and try to fill the gap with all sorts of vain things. You must tell them the truth of what you have seen. Last night, the innocence of man was lost, but by my blood it can be healed."

The girl had been held spellbound by the tale. The light around the figure dimmed a little, just enough so that she could make out his full form. She had glimpsed a horse-like figure last night and this morning, but now saw him fully, as if a fog had lifted. He was similar to the unicorn standing at her shoulder, but taller and more terrible; his horn and hooves were of gold and he glowed with the very light of the sun.

"Your faithful steed will be the father of the race of mortal unicorns and you shall be the first among a great and future throng of my servants. I will hereafter withdraw from wandering abroad in the world but I will be found by those who seek me. Go forth and teach what you have been taught, fight evil, and protect the innocent." With that he seemed to glow brighter and as the sun topped the head of the hill, vanished into the blinding rays."

The group let out a cumulative sigh of wonder as the story finished; the teller thereof wore a slight smile, ever loving the spell such a telling cast over his audience. He shooed them off to their next class, though a pair seemed intent on lingering behind, some innate sense told him to leave them be, for far more important matters were afoot than a missed geometry lesson. He withdrew and left the malingerers to themselves. With the vanishment of all the others, Jace and Jay withdrew to a far corner of the lawn, under an ancient and spreading oak, where they sat in silence for a very long time, neither wishing to break the enchantment the storyteller had wrought.

Jay said at last, wonder and dismay fighting for dominance in his voice, "perhaps I had it all wrong? Perhaps there is hope...even for me?" His voice hardened, becoming grim and bitter, "no, a well told tale does not make it true. It cannot be, it will not be. We will continue as we have begun." He turned to his companion, "you had best not be late for your appointment with the lady." Jace nodded sadly and led the way to dinner.

The meal passed much as their turn about the lawn had: tedious and insipid, the lady solely focused on herself. As Jace made the proper courtesies before parting, she said, "I believe you are quite adequate, sir, you will attend me from this moment forth as I deem appropriate. Farewell." With these warmest of wishes, she turned suddenly on her heel and went to find the girls she now kept company with, to tell of her great joy and eagerness to return home, the former only a figment of her imaginings.

Jay had already retired to their room and Jace uneasily joined him there, it had been far too long a day already and he knew the wraith was not one that required much in the way of sleep, but strangely he felt far less of a need for it himself than he thought he should. Taking a deep breath to settle himself, he opened the door and went in. Jay was huddled in the corner of his bed in a very unwraithlike configuration. He looked up dully when his roommate returned, but instead of demanding to know how Jace's meal with Ella had gone, he simply slumped back against the wall and was lost again to his own uneasy maunderings. Jace left him to mull in peace, for he had his own conundrums with which to wrestle.

He woke to find the sun trying to peep in through a small slit in the drapes, Jay still sat in a disconsolate heap by the wall. Jace stood, stretched, and studied his companion with concern, "what has you so out of sorts, my friend?"

Jay was on his feet in a moment, snarling in fury, "how dare you use that word with me!"

Jace frowned, "friend?"

Jay shuddered, "I am incapable of friendship; I have no friends and need none. We are both of us nothing but tools."

Jace shook his head, "feel that way if you must, but I for one shall count you as a friend, even if you refuse to acknowledge it. Neither am I a tool, I will aide you as I might, but I will not be used for nefarious purposes by anyone."

Jay went suddenly limp, sitting hunched on the bed, said he morosely, "what have I embroiled myself in? It all sounded so exciting when I chose this doom, but now I find it empty, lonely, and completely pointless." He turned a pained gaze upon Jace, "had I half your hope, perhaps I could find the courage to abandon this futile existence." Could he cry, tears would have quenched his fiery eyes, "you think it is not too late, I could find them still? My parents? My friend?"

Jace said with unabashed joy, "my friend, there is always hope in the Master, His hope is my hope and it can be yours!"

The room grew dark, only Jay's eyes giving off a dim red glow, like dying embers, while a cold, inexplicable wind suddenly moaned in the corners. Jay shuddered, "I can't do it! I will die! I must continue as I have begun; it is all that is left to me! It is all of it pointless! I am doomed regardless! It is all lies, hopeless lies, just like this life I currently live!"

Jace felt something shift within himself and knew his Master's power stirred, his face became that which he had worn since birth, he held a glowing sword in his hands, and he knew his being was radiant from within, not with the blinding light he must conceal at all times, but rather a gentle, cool light, like mist in the moonlight that dissipates the fear of impenetrable night. The wind and darkness retreated to the farthest corners of the room while Jay stared in astonishment and hope, the despair and terror melting away.

"Jace!" gasped he, going to one knee before his friend, "you weren't destroyed! Your Master is faithful indeed and far stronger than mine. Strike true and free me from this living death." He smiled then, sadly, but with a trace of eagerness in his voice, "may He have mercy on my forsaken soul!" Joy itself kindled in those flaming eyes, "I will see my father yet, even as I received back my friend! We shall meet again, on some bright morning when night is but a memory!" He bowed his head and Jace raised his blade even as he felt the darkness rushing upon them both, intent on quenching that awful light while the wind howled like a hurricane and beat upon them just as sorely. He struck, as he knew he must, even as shadow and light collided, leaving only utter dark.

He blinked in disbelief as consciousness returned to find sunlight joyously suffusing the room after the flight of that unnatural darkness, the wind having torn the drapes away in its fury. He wearily sat up and glanced about, only to stiffen in alarm as his gaze met that of a completely horrified Warrior. The man took an unconscious step back in terror as Jace gained his feet and fully took in the situation. Jay lay dead upon the floor, his wrappings having been stripped away by that horrid wind, pallid with lack of blood, his throat cut, and a stab wound through his heart, but fully human. Jace smiled sadly at the passing of his friend, but joy stirred in his heart to know he was free of his horrid enslavement to the darkness, and amusement threatened to overwhelm all at the thought of what this must look like to the astonished Kent.

The Warrior gasped at last, his hand on his sword, "what has happened here? I felt some great stirring of evil and rushed to see what was afoot, only to open the door and discover this terrible scene!"

Jace grinned ruefully, taking in the chaotic mess that was the once tidy room, the bloodless corpse, and having no explanation whatsoever to give this man. Said he at last, "I will give an account to the Lady herself and she alone."

The man shook his head grimly, "things do not look good for you lad, and if you make such egregious demands, they can only grow worse. The Lady may hear your case, if it is warranted, but you must at least confess your part before we trouble her with this matter."

Jace shook his head, "I cannot do as you ask. She alone may hear the tale. Do as you feel you must."

The Warrior nodded grimly, "so be it, but will you tell me one thing?" Jace looked him calmly in the eye, as if awaiting the query, the man asked, "did you kill your companion?"

Jace frowned, trying to discern how best to answer without betraying the full tale and yet tell the complete truth, said he with a sigh, "it was I that struck him through the heart, but whether that was the cause of death is another matter entirely."

The man shook his head at this cryptic answer and then frowned, "where is the weapon?" For, there was neither sword nor dagger present anywhere in the room.

Jace grinned, "that I do not know."

The man approached and said gravely, "I am afraid you must await your trial in the dungeons lad, unless you can be more forthcoming." Jace shook his head and allowed the man to escort him back to the cell in which this entire strange adventure had begun. He cast a last, wondering look upon his dead friend as he was led away, musing that Jay's own adventures had only just begun.

He was secured in the familiar cell, though the dungeon was far from empty this time as the bandits that had attacked the merchant train were gradually being rounded up and brought back to Astoria for trial. Said the Warrior in parting, "I will convey your case and demands to the Lady, but she has little patience with such antics."

Jace said patiently, "I demand nothing, but only speak the truth, to the Lady alone may I tell the tale." The man shook his head in wonder as he exited the dungeons.

One of the bandits in an adjacent cell said in some confusion, "I know these Brethren are sticklers for the rules, but why jail one of their own students? What did you do lad, cheat on a test?"

Jace smiled grimly, "they suspect me of murdering a fellow student."

The hardened criminals in the other cells laughed heartily at the thought of this mere boy as a murderer. As the day passed, the cells grew more crowded as more bandits were apprehended; there were dark mutters amongst the other prisoners that the lad should not be allowed a cell to himself while the Brethren wondered what to do with the curious case. It was rare that something of this severity occurred amongst the Students, and then to bow to the perpetrator's insane demands to appear before the Lady alone without first cooperating with her subordinates was unthinkable! But it was a serious case and the dungeons were growing far too crowded to allow him a cell to himself, but to put these violent men in with him could only result in more tragedy.

Kent returned and asked of Jace, "the Lady will see you, but it cannot be alone. Is there anyone amongst the Brethren who might accompany you?"

Jace smiled, "the swordmaster would be acceptable."

The Warrior nodded, "I shall arrange it and return for you." He vanished and soon returned, "come along lad, we are in desperate need of this cell; the Lady will hear your case immediately with the swordmaster present, as you requested."

Jace nodded, "it will suffice." The guard gave him a startled look, as if wondering who this boy thought he was to be demanding anything of anyone! They proceeded in silence, Jace trying desperately to hide his amusement at the uncanny situation and silently wondering what this would do to his reputation amongst the students, especially with Ella, with his luck she'd probably be all the more smitten with him.

The Lady sat grimly in her accustomed chair, the swordmaster stood respectfully off to one side, his face schooled to dour indifference, while the boy and his escort made their courtesies. After checking that Jace's hands were securely bound, the Warrior gave the Lady a resigned look and bowed his head; she dismissed him by saying, "you leave me in capable hands Kent, the swordmaster can certainly deal with any dreadful situation that might arise forthwith." He did not look convinced but dared not disobey the Lady, so bowed himself out and shut the door firmly behind him.

She turned grave eyes upon the unknown student before her, the swordmaster's grim expression turned to one of amusement, as the Lady began, "you stand accused of murdering a fellow student, of refusing to cooperate with the investigation, and of making obscene demands upon my time and safety."

Jace grinned, which was not at all the reaction she had expected, and said, "all perfectly true my Lady, but a situation I could not help as I am forbidden from speaking of this to anyone but my colleagues and yourself."

She turned suspicious eyes upon the swordmaster, "more mysteries to which I cannot be privy?" He bowed his head in acknowledgement, a very bland expression on his face.

She looked again upon the accused and gaped, for now an entirely different individual stood before her. Remembering that this was not the first such demonstration she had seen, she quickly regained her composer and said to Jace, in guise as himself, "what really happened to your friend?"

Jace bowed deeply and began the tale, "he sold himself bodily into evil my Lady, but sorely regretted it and finally decided it was a mistake. He sought the Master at the last, but in doing so doomed himself, for he had promised his very life blood in exchange for powers dark and terrible, thus when he fled the darkness, he no longer had a living physical body to call his own. It was in this unfortunate position that your servant found me."

She was both vastly horrified and rather amused at the unseemliness of the situation and the boy's predicament therewith. At last she nodded, "at least it was not murder, though it was horrific enough in its own right it has a happy ending. Now what to do with you? I thought I had sent you with your mentor in pursuit of a certain evil artifact?"

Jace grinned, "my orders changed at the last moment Lady, but I know where the object is, in fact it has not left Astoria. Jay had it in his keeping and foolishly gave it to Ella in hopes of gaining her attention."

She frowned, "we cannot just take it from her, nor do I think she would willingly hand it over if we asked for it." She smiled in grim amusement, "in fact, she was in here within an hour of your alter ego's incarceration demanding the release of her fiancé! She intends to leave on the morrow to return home, with or without you."

Jace sighed heavily, "then I must accompany her I suppose, though she is well aware that I have in no way attached myself to her in any way, most especially in a romantic sense. She is just so desperate for a 'proper' husband that she will take just about anyone at this point. Perhaps on the journey I can convince her to part with the orb, at least I can protect her from those that will undoubtedly be drawn to it."

The Lady raised her eyebrows, "the fell man Scamp is currently hunting?"

Jace nodded, "the same, and perhaps others. Jay said his master's minions were desperate to retrieve the item."

She smiled slightly, "you are quite bold for a mere Apprentice, even telling me what your next assignment shall be."

Jace met her gaze unflinching, "I know what I must do Lady, I apologize if you feel I am undermining your authority but that is not my intent."

She sighed, "I shall just have to get used to it, I suppose, but shall I recall Baye and Adan from their attempt to find this thing if you know where it is?"

Jace shook his head, "they may have set out to find the orb but I think they will find themselves upon an entirely different quest soon enough, one with grave repercussions should they fail."

She shivered, "my thoughts exactly. I must acquit you of murder, but you will understand if I ask that you leave Astoria immediately, 'Ace?'"

Jace grinned, "all the better, for I must accompany my so-called beloved home lest danger beset her upon the way."

She smiled grimly, "and I know just the man to send with you." Jace gaped as she asked the swordmaster to fetch the Warrior who currently awaited the prisoner without. Jace shifted back to 'Ace,' as the man was called back into the Lady's presence.

He bowed deeply to the Lady and asked, "what would you have of me, my Lady?"

Said she, "a Student of noble birth, one Ella, intends to ride home on the morrow. You will accompany her to see that no tragedy befalls her. This young man will be attending the lady as well, in the guise of her betrothed. He will be in command of this expedition; you are to consider his orders as my own." Both Warrior and Student gaped but she gave no further explanation before dismissing them all.

The swordmaster clapped the lad on the back as he passed, saying, "you'll do well lad." He caught the perplexed Warrior's eye and said, "fear not Kent, the Lady knows what she is about. There is far more to the story than any of us yet know. Do your duty and all will be well."

Ella came dashing up to them in a very unladylike manner the moment they rounded the corner, nearly colliding with Jace. Said she in rapturous tones, "so you are free to go? What a dreadful situation you must have survived this day! I knew you were a man well worthy of me and this only proves it!" She waxed eloquent on her own fine taste, leaving Jace to exchange a frantic look with the Warrior, who actually smiled at the lad's predicament, perhaps he should have stayed quietly in the dungeons. She told them of her plans to leave early on the morrow, Jace assured her of his company, and informed her that the Warrior would also be coming at the Lady's behest. She studied him for a moment and then nodded, "it is only fitting." She then turned abruptly and vanished to make her preparations, leaving the pair to exchange an amused shake of heads.

Before parting to attend to their own errands, the Warrior asked of the boy, "so the Lady was content with your story then?"

Jace nodded, "I am no murderer, my friend chose his own fate. He recanted of a great evil at the end but it cost him his life. I was merely the instrument of justice."

Kent shook his head in wonder but smiled slightly, "that is more of the tale than I had ever hoped to hear and therein must I be content. I will see you on the morrow." He bowed his head in farewell and hastened off to attend to his own preparations. Jace grinned at his retreating back and did likewise.

His preparations finished, he sought sanctuary in the empty room that would be his for the night to avoid the gossip and wondering looks of his fellow Students, both at his impending flight and the infamy surrounding his final encounter with Jay. Glad was he when morning came, or at least the wan light of predawn, and he could climb into his saddle and ride away from it all for a time. He was finding it hard to relate to the Students anymore, having been through so much of late that he could neither tell them nor could they begin to understand. He still felt an affinity for his Brothers, but even they could not truly understand his wonderful and perplexing situation.

Ella was waiting for them in the courtyard with a young maid and a pair of guards she had hired to accompany her on the trip home, she would not wait a day longer that her father might send a proper escort. Kent was in his saddle and Jace only a moment behind him. She gave Jace what she thought was a fond smile, but looked merely possessive. Said he as they set off, "my lady, I am taking command of this expedition, at least as it pertains to your safety. You must agree to do as I say if things grow dangerous." She looked at him in astonishment, never having thought him so bold as to make such a demand, but she found his impertinence strangely attractive and gave him her consent. He smiled gratefully and continued, "in all other matters you may do as it pleases you." He said quietly, "you must also know I have no intention of marrying you."

She smiled at him as if he were being foolish and said, "of course you think that at the moment, but that will all change once you see how wealthy and powerful such an alliance will surely make you."

Jace shook his head sadly but she did not notice as she fell back to chat with her maid. Kent rode beside him for a time and they spoke quietly of what was to be done should something go amiss. Jace fully agreed that the Warrior should have his head should bandits or others of a more usual sort waylay them, but was firm that should a certain man of vile tendency fall upon them, he alone would deal with the matter and the Warrior was to see that the lady got safely home, regardless of what happened. To this he reluctantly agreed, and only because the Lady had sworn him to do so. The hired guardsmen kept their distance from the other men in the party, happy to have someone else in charge of security that they need only ride along and hopefully do nothing to actually earn their pay, scant as it was.

Several days passed in quiet and tedium, but Jace was uneasy, feeling a rising tension as each day brought something or someone closer. His unicorn informed him that Scamp and his apprentice were somewhere close, likely in pursuit of the villain that undoubtedly pursued the orb, but it was only moments later that a unicorn's horror and grief echoed through his mind, as it had the day their comrades had been slain in the attack on the merchant caravan. Jace motioned for the party to halt and then said quietly to Ella, "there is some fell villain ahead, my lady, in pursuit of an item you carry. He will leave you alone, if only you will surrender the item to him. If he must take it from you, none will survive his wrath."

She gasped, "but what could I have that such a fiend would value? I hardly have any jewelry and my coin is near its end."

Jace shook his head, "nay lady, it looks to be a glass orb, given into your keeping by a former friend."

She frowned in consternation for a long moment and then said in wonder, "that thing? I kept it out of sheer curiosity, it can have no material value, but I will certainly give it up if it will spare my life." Her frown deepened, "you do not mean to give it to him, do you?"

Jace said grimly, "it must not fall into his hands, madam. I will do what I must. Now fetch the sphere and then make haste to be far away from here ere he comes!"

Kent rode up, a frown on his face, "were it not for my orders, I would meet this foe with you but I must see the lady safe."

Jace smiled grimly, "your faithfulness touches me, my friend, but we each of us have our duty. May the Master ride with you!"

Ella returned with the sphere, safely contained within a satin pouch, said she as she gave it into his keeping, "the thing always caused me some unease whenever I handled it so it has remained tucked away amongst my things, I nearly forgot about it. At least if you do not come back, I shall have the right to don mourning and quite the tale to tell." She smiled at this and hurriedly rode off at Kent's insistence. He gave Jace a quick salute, flashed a proud smile, and then vanished around the bend with his charge.

Jace hefted the sphere in his hand, feeling the evil power churning in its midst, it was far too heavy for its size. His mount screamed his fury and galloped towards the source of the other unicorn's grievous outcry. They soon found the place: a tangled mass of thorny black trees from which emanated an evil aura like fog creeping out of a riverbed of an evening. Jace dismounted, ordered his unicorn to stand watch, took the sphere in hand, and entered the evil covert. He felt eyes upon him the moment he entered, said he, "I have what you seek."

"Yes," said a fiendish voice, "I can feel it. Give it to me and I will let you live."

Jace barked a derisive laugh, "that I highly doubt." His gaze fell upon Hawk, lying off to one side, pale and cold, his uniform tattered and stained with blood. He knelt beside the boy, felt a weak pulse and smiled as he felt the light within himself flow into the moribund boy, as it had once done for the blind Brie. He stood and found the remains of Scamp, apparently mauled by the villain's monster. Jace scanned the glade for some sign of his foe and at last found him crouching in the shadows on the far side, watching in grim amusement.

The boy approached, making no move towards his weapons, the orb within its sack in his hand. The villain grinned, "I see you have noticed my handiwork, join me and you need not join them." He frowned, "you were not foolish enough to take the Oath were you?"

Jace said grimly, "I have never taken the Oath."

The villain stood and smiled, "very well then, what do you say? I could do much with one so cunning and bold."

Jace shook his head, "that will not be possible I fear."

The man shrugged as if it were of no matter, "then give me the orb and prepare to die."

Jace said grimly, a sudden thought occurring to him, "very well, but first let me look upon this thing for which so many have sought and died."

"Have it your way," groused the evil man, "it is not much to look at."

Jace opened the bag and glimpsed a sphere of dark glass, an occasional streak of burnt orange or nauseous green flickering at its heart like so much lightning but otherwise it was remarkably unremarkable, save for the evil that seemed to suffuse and surround it. He reached in and took hold of the sphere, at which the vile man shrieked in horror at his fatal mistake, though none could hear him over the shrieking of the sphere itself, which sounded as if all the cicadas in the world were singing off key at its heart. Jace felt the carefully concealed light within him snuffed out like a candle caught in a draft and all conscious awareness went with it. The sphere went from argent red to dead black then exploded into ten thousand crystalline shards as its keening reached a crescendo, shredding the vile man and the lifeless Jace as it did so.

The place lay quiet, too quiet, as if to make up for the unnatural cacophony, for a few long minutes after the explosion, during which nothing stirred but the faint flutter of Hawk's chest as he slept peacefully, unaware of all that had happened. At last a unicorn stepped into the once forsaken glade, which was now just another hidden dell of the vast eastern forests. He nosed at the tattered remnants of Scamp, a brilliant light engulfing his master and fading to reveal him whole and smiling ruefully at his old friend. He glanced about glumly, expecting to find his apprentice dead or worse, but was astonished to find him sleeping peacefully, no longer injured or poisoned by the wounds wrought by their foe's dreadful blade.

He frowned in consternation, wondering if the boy's unicorn had come in time, but the faithful creature stood protectively off to one side of his sleeping master. He continued to scan the covert and found his answer at last, amidst a mire of black ooze and shattered glass lay a boy, or what had been a boy before his attempt to unmake the sphere. Scamp stood and took the lad by the hand, a pulse of light entering the boy as Scamp raised him to his feet. They averted their eyes at the resultant brilliance, Jace blinking sheepishly when they could again see. He exchanged a wondrous smile with Scamp and then studied his handiwork.

Hawk sat up, stretched, and yawned on the far side of the clearing, as if he had just woken in his own bed rather than in a den of evil somewhere in the wildwood. He blinked sleepily at Scamp, having fallen to the villain's blade at the very first and thus having no idea that his mentor had tangled with the monster and met his own doom thereby. He frowned at Jace, wondering what he was doing in such a place, and then slowly stood, saying in puzzlement, "what happened?"

Scamp clapped him warmly on the shoulder and said, "it was a near thing, but thankfully we had a little help in saving the day. Our nemesis is no more, as is his grim artifact. We have lived to see it and will rejoice thereat!" His eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he glanced at Jace, "did you come alone lad?"

Jace shook his head and smiled ruefully, "we were accompanying the lady Ella home, along with a pair of hired guards, her lady's maid, and a Warrior called Kent. Her so-called betrothed was the one who brought the orb to this place and saw it destroyed, alas he was killed in process."

Scamp smiled in amusement, "you say this lad died heroically to spare his intended?"

Jace returned the smile, "you could say that."

Scamp frowned, "how did she come by the artifact?"

Jace shook his head, "Jay's father had given it to him ere their parting and he gave it to her, hoping to somehow win her affections thereby."

Scamp nodded, "we had best accompany said lady home then, seeing as she has been deprived of the boldest of her escort. We will give her tidings of her lover's fate, a pity that, he sounds like a brave lad."

Jace gave him a roguish smile, "certainly a pity, I am sure. I'll head back to Astoria and inform the Lady that all is well."

They bid him a warm farewell and went in search of the fleeing Ella, who did justice to her heroic beloved with her emotional theatrics and donned black for nearly a year before she finally found a man worth pursuing, and it was at that precise moment that her former tragedy was suddenly forgotten, not that it had ever truly vexed her heart in the first place.

Jace rode back to Astoria with a light heart, eager to tell the Lady that this crisis at least was past. Within sight of the city, the world suddenly went dark and his unicorn screamed in terror, flinging his rider and fleeing. Jace huddled on the ground and shuddered, wondering what dreadful thing could reduce the otherwise fearless creature to a panic-stricken horse, knowing full well who and what it must be.

Scoffed a voice, as if it were a man speaking to a cowardly dog, "you are a pesky little thing, but before I squash you like the insect you are, I give you one last chance to spare your pathetic soul."

A sphere of clear glass rolled out of the darkness and stopped only inches from the terrified boy's face. Said the horrid voice, "you destroyed the Eye and you will be the one to replace it or I will destroy you utterly, even your so-called Master will not be able to redeem you from what is to come! Give yourself up willingly, renew the Eye, and all will be well, else you know what awaits you." The voice trailed off with awful, mocking laughter, which made Jace cringe all the more.

"You are the father of lies," whispered he, "do what you wish, but my Master will never forsake me and He has already defeated your evil."

"We shall see, little flea," mocked the voice, as the darkness became palpable and began to crush in around him, like the pressure in the depths of the sea. He felt himself crumpling into something far too small and spherical for comfort and suddenly knew the Fiend was trying to force him into accepting the sphere or would use brute force to accomplish his ends, futile as they might be. The light inside him flared forth in protest but flickered out like a guttering candle as the darkness incessantly pressed in and crushed the boy into nothingness.

Jared was standing at the castle gates in his usual place when they brought him in: a cold, pale form, nearer a corpse than a living man, a weak, thready pulse the only sign of life; a returning patrol had found him along the road, curled in a ball, as if some great fist had attempted to crush him in its grasp. He queried the lad's unicorn as to what had happened, his blood ran cold at the aggrieved beast's reply. This was no brush with death from which the boy would soon waken; he had been touched by the Evil One himself, a thing which no mortal creature could endure without tragedy. They lay the stretcher momentarily in the courtyard as one of the bearers ran off to prepare a room for the stricken apprentice; none barred his way as the servant knelt beside the unmoving form. He studied the boy, his face growing grim indeed, for Jace showed no signs of waking, not even when he surreptitiously sent a pulse of light into his inert form. There was no echoing flicker from within the boy; it was as if his light had been extinguished like an unneeded candle.

Jared stood with a sigh and followed silently after as the bearers took up the stretcher and lay him in the prepared room. The doctor studied the boy, shaking his head and saying, "I have never seen the like. There is no physical injury that can account for it. Perhaps some great shock to his system has rendered him thus? I do not know if he will ever recover."

At least in this last Jared agreed with the physician, the boy was not likely to waken any time soon unless their Master intervened. A grim smile settled on his face as an idea suddenly dawned, intervene He would, if through the least of His servants. The doctor soon chased everyone from the room, or thought he had, for Jared could hide himself from casual sight as easily as he could change his face. Once the door was firmly closed behind the last of the mournful throng, Jared drew his dagger and approached the form in the bed. Poised to strike, someone chose that unfortunate moment to enter the sickroom. Jared's eyes widened to see the Lady herself enter with a Warrior beside her, Jared vaguely recognized him as a lad just out of his apprenticeship, but even so, he was no stranger to danger or how to deal with it.

"No!" squawked the young Warrior as he simultaneously drew his sword and lunged at the murderous servant.

Jared smiled ruefully, knowing there was only one thing to do as he plunged the dagger into Jace's heart even as he felt the boy's sword rip through his own.

The Lady stared in horror as the tragic scene unfolded, the noise drawing all those still outside the door back into the room to witness the fatal moment. Knowing she must regain control of the situation, she bellowed, "everyone out!"

Even in their shock, none dared defy her and hastily retreated from the room, leaving only the young Warrior, still holding his bloody sword, and the two dead men. She stared stonily at the boy, knowing she could not reprimand him for reacting as he had been taught, but her annoyed glare was rebuke enough, for he was very soon awkwardly studying his boot tips. She mused grimly, perhaps she had released him from his apprenticeship too soon if he acted this rashly! Said she with forced calm, "go and fetch the swordmaster." He stared at her as if she had asked him to dance a jig then and there, but bobbed an awkward bow and dashed headlong from the room while she grimly studied the unmoving forms. Whatever Jared was up to, why couldn't he wait for a more private moment rather than have half the population of Astoria there to witness it?

She sighed heavily, wondering how to disentangle herself from this minor crisis, when a knock sounded at the door and she said, "enter!"

The swordmaster ducked in with a very proper bow and a curious expression in his usually stoic eyes but she bade the Warrior await her without. She rounded on the swordmaster the moment the door closed, "what was Jared up to? Why did he try to kill a boy on death's doorstep?"

The swordmaster grinned, "why not ask him yourself?"

She frowned at his perceived insolence and glanced significantly at the man's unmoving corpse. His smile deepened as he laid a hand to the man's chest; she gasped when Jared suddenly flinched and gasped back to life. Jared blinked up at the Lady, a sheepish smile on his once flaccid face. She shook her head and sighed, but dismissed the swordmaster, waiting for the door to shut firmly before demanding of the seemingly murderous servant, "what is all this about?" Then added in exasperation, "can it not wait until later when there is no one around to witness it?"

Jared paled, "who saw what?"

She smiled grimly, "half the keep saw you drive a dagger into the boy's heart and a sword run through your own."

Jared shook his head, "I suppose the timing was inopportune but I thought the doctor had chased everyone off for a few hours." He turned grim eyes upon the corpse in the bed, "this is no natural affliction Lady, he was touched by the Nameless One, and while life lingered, he would live on in this indifferent state."

She studied the prone form on the bed and then turned knowing eyes upon the servant, "and you thought to make an end of that indifferent state? And as it seems you have a complete apathy towards death, it was neither murder, nor a mercy killing, but actually a cure." She smiled thoughtfully, "and that is why Baye has survived so many missions when he should have died on his first quest."

Jared grinned, "he did die on his first quest, twice actually, but you are correct, death to us is merely a nuisance." He bowed to the Lady, "and if you would permit me, I will see that said nuisance is swiftly put aright." She bowed her head and he placed a firm hand on Jace's chest, sending light into the prone form, drawing him back to waking life.

He cried aloud in dismay and terror, still thinking himself a prisoner of the crushing darkness but suddenly realized he was in a comfortable room with Jared and the Lady of Astoria. He smiled sheepishly, greeted them as courteously as he could in a supine position, and said brightly, "the orb and the one who sought it are both destroyed, my Lady. Scamp and Hawk accompany the lady Ella home, and all is well." He shuddered, "at least I thought it was, until I met...him!"

Jared smiled proudly, "no wonder he thought to make an end of you lad! You are a veritable menace to his plans, but know he cannot unmake or destroy anything the Master has wrought, a power the Master Himself will not employ." He turned sheepish eyes upon the Lady, "I suppose neither of us can be seen about the keep as ourselves now?"

She smiled in grim amusement at his appraisal of the situation, "that you cannot, as over a dozen people have now seen you both dead."

Jared nodded, "you will have to appoint a new man to my post, perhaps I can be of assistance in finding a replacement?" He grinned impishly, shifted slightly into a younger, fairer version of himself with a few obvious alterations in height and nose shape. The Lady shook her head in exasperation, "very well, what shall I call your friend?"

"Jaire, would suffice, my Lady," said he with a grin.

She nodded and turned to Jace, now sitting upon the edge of the bed with a troubled look upon his face, asked she, "and what of you?"

He shook his head, "besides for the grief it will bring my mother and sister, I have no aversion to changing what I must."

She nodded, a thoughtful frown on her face, then she addressed Jared, "could we pass him off as having survived this incident? I can switch the servants around at will and no one asks questions, but the death of an apprentice within my own keep will arouse suspicions, especially with living kin about the place."

Jared nodded, "only that young Warrior knows of a certain that I struck true, and in the fuss surrounding my own demise, I wonder if even he is certain?"

Her smile was mischief itself, an expression quite foreign to the usual dignity of the Lady of Astoria, said she to Jace, "you were stabbed, it is true, but it is also true that it rendered you no permanent harm, in fact it did quite the opposite and roused you from your stupor. Master Jared thought he was doing you a favor, which our young Warrior mistook for danger and acted as he felt necessary." Her smile deepened, "I fear that you will have to act the corpse until you have been properly disposed of, Master Jaire, is that acceptable to you?"

Jared turned to the boy, "you had best make it real lad, consider it just recompense for my own bungling." Jace turned questioning eyes to the Lady who could only shake her head in mystification that he would ask her for permission to run a man through at his own request. He shrugged, drew his sword, and did just that. Jared lay again upon the floor in a bloody, unmoving heap as the Lady opened the door, summoning the physician. The young Warrior still stood without and she drew him into the room as well.

Said she quietly, as the astonished doctor studied the fully recovered Jace and confirmed the servant was indeed dead, "did the servant strike true?"

The Warrior frowned in consternation, shaking his head and staring in wonder at the quite healthy Jace, "I cannot say of a certain Lady, I thought he had but the evidence is quite to the contrary."

She smiled slightly and said, "then let that be the tale, and next time please take a moment to think before rashly striking a fatal blow. I know you meant well, but now he cannot tell us what it was he intended and why." The boy bowed deeply and withdrew from the room. She turned next to the doctor and asked, "have you ever seen the like?"

The man shook his head in astonishment, "you say this boy was stabbed? I cannot believe it, there is not a mark on him!" Jace surreptitiously kicked his discarded shirt under the bed lest the doctor notice it bore a rent and bloodstains. He shook his head, "as for the servant, sadly I've seen plenty of cases like his, and never more do they arise and walk."

After the doctor left, the Lady had a final word for Jace, "you may pursue Baye and Adan upon whatever quest has captured their fancy, but do so as a full Brother. You have shown yourself to be mature, thoughtful, courageous, and skilled far beyond your years. A further apprenticeship will do you little good, but I have no say in matters pertaining to your more interesting occupation. In that, as in all things, may the Master ride with you!" She smiled wholeheartedly at him and left the room. His mother burst in immediately after, demanding to know if he were truly well and whole. Briane would have been right behind her, or perhaps secreted under the bed, had she not been out on her apprenticeship; Jace grinned, wondering what she would think when she heard he was already a full Brother: furious no doubt. He grinned all the more.

Brother:

Word quickly spread of Jace's miraculous recovery, and near miss, and of the tragic death of a certain longstanding servant. None knew exactly what it was the man intended, but none could fathom Jared as a murderer, especially of a moribund boy. With the lad's recovery, it was whispered about that Jared had some secret knowledge as to the boy's malady and its cure, which he effected but at the cost of his own life. So strangely, the servant went from murderer to martyr in a very short span of time, which Jaire found vastly amusing. There was some talk of a grand funeral, but the Lady said he would be buried in the usual manner of the Brethren, having no living kith or kin to argue the fact, as he had served them long and faithfully and died in the course of his duties. So it was that the swordmaster and Jace carried their dead captain quietly out into the forest surrounding the city, but rather than burying him, they simply woke him up.

"A hero, huh?" he said with a wry grin, "strange how these tales get started." Jace hoped he would gape with his next revelation, but he only nodded, a knowing smile on his face, "no surprise there lad, you've proved yourself time and again to be ready, at least as far as the Brethren are concerned, but you still have much to learn of the Shadow." He caught the swordmaster's eye, who nodded his agreement. Continued he, "so you will still be under Baye's tutelage for a little while at least." He grinned, "speaking of which, I believe you have your orders, if you have finished with all those pesky funereal details that is."

The boy nodded, summoned his mount, bid them both a fond farewell, and raced back to the keep to make his preparations for departure. They exchanged a grin at his youthful exuberance and settled on a more leisurely pace, said Jared as they set forth, "I might need your help getting back into the castle, the Lady has offered me a position but I am not yet known to the guards." The swordmaster grinned, promising to see what he could do. Jared assumed the visage and name of Jaire and settled easily into his new position, as if he had been doing just that for years beyond count.

With all of his friends, and most of his former acquaintances, gone from Astoria or occupied elsewhere within it, Jace really had no one but his mother to see before he set off. It was not yet midday and he hoped to share a quick meal with her before taking his leave. Said she, in some concern and no little surprise as he entered the kitchens in the uniform of a full Brother, "is this a joke?"

Jace shook his head, "the Lady would kill me if she knew I had donned this uniform in jest."

Juliene smiled grimly, "your sister will kill you if she finds out you have been promoted so soon."

Jace grinned, "I would like to see her try." He sobered, "I have come to bid you farewell, I am off right after lunch."

She gaped, "but you are just out of a sickbed!"

He nodded in understanding, "and I have never felt better. Care to dine with me?"

She gave him that patient but exasperated look mothers reserve for their grown children when they think them making foolish decisions but must respect their supposed independence and maturity. She said at last, "of course, but is this not a questionable time of year to be traveling?" She shook her head at his impish smile and declined giving any more sensible advice.

She sat beside him in a quiet corner of the pantry and they talked of this and that, a far cry from his one-sided conversations with Ella. Afterwards, she bid him a quiet farewell and he set off just as the sun reached its peak, eager to find his comrades but knowing he would miss his mother keenly and she him. He smiled broadly at this unfamiliar sensation of having someone to miss and to be missed by. The unicorn picked up his jovial mood and frisked his own joy as they rode off into the broad, bright world.

Night came early and suddenly this late in the year in the northern half of the world, and this was no warm, genial summer evening when one rejoiced at being caught abroad at such an hour but a chill, dark, and lonely time without even a solitary star for company. The only sound was the wind moaning forlornly in a hollow tree; Jace wondered how he had ever thought the world so broad and wonderful only hours before. He huddled beside his pitiable fire, cloak and blankets doing little to keep out the morose wind with a bite as cold as the forsaken soul it sounded. The unicorn stood within the ring of light, suddenly tossing his head and snorting in amusement, for it seemed he was untouched by the dark, the solitude, or the cold.

Jace frowned at him in annoyance, happy that the creature was apparently beyond such paltry mortal concerns but vexed that he would take pleasure in a friend's discomfort. The creature blew out his nostrils in consternation at being misunderstood and then very clearly told the boy what was on his mind. Jace smiled in spite of himself, "why did you not say so to begin with?"

The unicorn whickered sheepishly. Jace nodded and smiled the more, "because this is as new to you as it is to me, I understand completely my friend, we both have much to learn about our new occupations. What is this you say? It makes sense, I suppose, as much as anything does any more. If death is now just a nuisance, why should cold, hunger, tiredness, or loneliness be aught but a mild irritation? You say I can ignore them completely if I so choose?" The unicorn tossed his head excitedly, the boy shook his in amusement, and then focused on not being cold anymore. He grinned widely, for his friend was right!

He turned to the beast and asked, a thoughtful look on his face, "does this mean I can go indefinitely without food or sleep?" The unicorn whickered his affirmation and Jace smiled ruefully, "so what is the sense in camping this night? As neither of us will suffer for lack of sleep or rest, let us put the time to good use." The unicorn snorted, as if asking what had taken Jace so long to figure that out.

He asked, "you can see well enough in the dark? Even with these clouds obscuring the stars?"

The unicorn snorted in ill-contained amusement and communicated another long overlooked fact to the boy, who gaped in astonishment at so obvious a revelation. Said he with a wry smile, "now that you mention it, I had noticed it on occasion, though only subconsciously. I can see as well as you in the dark! What else have I to discover in this peculiar service?" The unicorn's amused but mysterious whicker was answer enough. Jace shook his head in exasperation as he began collecting his gear, that they might get underway as soon as possible, while the unicorn watched in vast amusement.

The days and miles passed swiftly as the pair sought their comrades, somewhere to the north and west of Astoria. Jace wondered why anyone would want to linger in the Wilds this time of year, he could understand the allure during a more pleasant season, but with winter coming on who would not go south, especially those possessed of a means to do so? Of all the occupations in the world, a traveling merchant had the greatest flexibility when it came to choosing where and when he would go about his business. To his mind, this was a perfect season to investigate the trading options available along the southern coast. But they must have their reasons and he was very curious to learn what exactly they were, it must be something important to keep them in such an isolated part of the world at this time of year.

At last, as evening was falling, the unicorn alerted his rider that they were nearly upon their long sought companions. They rounded a bend upon the miniscule trail, which one overly generous might call a game trail, and suddenly a small glade opened before them. It was crammed near to bursting with wagons, horses, and people. Jace grinned openly, suddenly minded of market day in Astoria, but with everyone crowded into half the space. He recognized three wagons of similar make to those of the merchant train but the rest were of a design he had never before seen, there were also far too many people about to be the handful of families that had split off from the main group some months prior. They were studying him with as much interest as he did them.

Suddenly a familiar face registered and he was immediately out of his saddle and assaulting the unfortunate personage with quite undignified exuberance. Baye grinned at the lad, joy and surprise written all over his face. Adan waded through the crowd and joined their happy reunion. Once their initial enthusiasm had been satisfied, Baye said, "we need to find somewhere quiet to talk at length." The boys nodded and followed silently after, many curious gazes watching them vanish from the encampment.

They settled upon a trio of stones, covered with brown moss and frost, in a little clearing not far from the camp. Baye asked eagerly, "what passes in Astoria? Are you come to tell us that our quest is a futile one?" He said this last in a strangely hopeful manner.

Jace frowned, "why are you so eager to be acquitted of your quest?"

Baye shook his head and smiled wryly, "I have found something else to do if we can somehow get that other little business out of the way."

Jace smiled, "well, you are in luck. The fiend is destroyed, as is the Eye of Phil, may nothing ever be named so inanely again! The Lady sent me to aid you in whatever it is you have gotten yourself into."

Baye said with a laugh, "that isn't the only thing she's done lad, you forgot to mention your sudden change in uniform."

Adan gaped, just now noticing the significance of Jace's outfit, said he, "you are a full Brother already?"

Jace smiled ruefully, "for as much as it matters to us, Jared isn't about to let me run loose unsupervised any time soon, no matter what the Lady thinks appropriate."

Baye grinned from ear to ear, "at least someone is being sensible in this situation, now tell us all the tale ere we tell you ours." Jace nodded and told of his many adventures in the short time they had been parted. Baye shook his head in amazement, "no wonder the Lady saw fit to promote you lad, you've had more adventures in two weeks than the average Warrior has in two years! But now for our own wild tale, though quite calm by your standards." He laughed, "this may be downright dull in fact, but here goes. You probably noticed a few peddler wagons in the adjacent clearing, the rest belong to the gypsies. We interviewed the refugees and learned that a few of their comrades had broken off from the main group a few months prior, possibly taking the orb with them, so we set off in pursuit. We found them, but alas, no orb, rather we discovered a most curious situation."

Their conversation broke off as they heard approaching footsteps, all eyes turned to look upon the intruder: a greying man in his middle years, slightly bent with age and hard labor with keen eyes that minded Jace of some avian predator. The three stood at the man's approach, as Baye said, "Jace, this is Helve, he is quite an intriguing fellow." He met the other's eye, "Helve, this is one of my apprentices, just arrived from Astoria."

The hawkeyed man studied the boy with cold indifference, dismissing him immediately as uninteresting and unimportant. Said he to Baye, "I had hoped he would be a useful addition to our party, what use have I for another giddy lad?" His tone darkened, "I have little enough use for you. Can't you just be on your way and leave things well enough alone?"

Baye crossed his arms and said, "I have as much right to be here as you do, it is up to the gypsies and their peddler companions to dismiss us, if they so wish." He smiled, as if at some secret joke, "but I doubt the gypsies will find any reason short of murder an excuse to be rid of us, such is their love of company."

"We shall see," murmured the other as he stalked off into the night.

They resumed their seats and Baye continued, "he is the main reason we have remained here even when it became apparent the orb was not in their keeping. The peddlers are enchanted with the gypsies and seem eager to join their number, which would be no concern of ours, but that enthralling fellow arrived a day after we did and he is desperately trying to convince some, if not all, of their number to go north into the Wastes."

Jace gaped, "this time of year?"

Baye nodded, an ironic twist to his mouth, "certainly a strange proposition and thus our reluctance to leave. Who would venture into the Wastes, even at high summer? What would draw a man thither with winter setting in? It is uncanny, that and there is just something about the fellow I find fascinating, as do the others, they seem drawn to him by some inexplicable force or charm. I do not think him a worker of evil magicks, but he certainly has a mystery and charisma about him that most find intriguing."

Jace smiled, "something in which I am completely lacking. So we will just keep company with the gypsies until he gives up and goes home?"

Baye said thoughtfully, "I was thinking we could take him up on the offer, if no one else is foolish enough to do so. We can't keep people from going, if that is their wish, but we can see that nothing untoward happens on the journey, that and I really want to know what he is up to." The boys nodded their eager agreement and then Baye suggested, "come lad, the gypsies will be dying to know all about you, regardless of what our intriguing companion says, and will likely throw a party in your honor."

Jace gaped, "but they hardly know me!"

Adan grinned, "what does that matter? They'll use anything as an excuse to break out their fiddles and finest ale. Someone's horse wandered off two nights ago and when it was found in the morning, boy did we celebrate!"

Jace grinned, "seems like a merry crew, what interest can our intriguing but dour friend have in them?"

Baye shook his head, "that is what we need to discover."

Baye was right, the gypsies were both eager to make his acquaintance and celebrate that amazing event with every fiber of their beings. They danced, fiddled, ate, and drank until dawn was imminent, and then it was all to bed to recover from the night's festivities, all save Helve, who paced about the camp, muttering and fretting as if such frivolity was anathema to all sense and civility. Jace watched him in fascination for a time and whispered quietly to Baye, "people think the Brethren rather dour and fastidious, but I think Helve makes us look as carefree as these wild and wonderful gypsies."

Baye smiled warmly, "that he does lad, but it is a misperception on the part of outside observers that makes them think the Brethren are ill-acquainted with joy and merriment, we just do not take them to inebriated excess as some think the only proper way to rightly celebrate and enjoy life. We serve the very source of all Joy, so it follows that we should be well acquainted with the subject. Poor Helve sees all of life as a burden and a weary journey at that, begrudging anyone who thinks otherwise." He grinned, all amusement, "that's why he finds us so tiresome: we are supposedly learned men, such as himself, yet we refuse to see life as dull, tedious, and uninteresting. Rather, we are told to be cheerful, to rejoice, and to see everything through the wonder-filled eyes of children."

Jace shook his head, "why would he want to convince the gypsies to accompany him anywhere if he cannot abide their way of life?"

Adan shivered, "perhaps he wants to make them as dour and grim as himself?"

Helve suddenly turned towards them and seemed to gaze into their very souls with his far too keen eyes, at last he approached at a deliberate pace, for there were no others about in the now abandoned camp and it seemed he had tired of his lonely outrage. He approached with all the imperiousness of the king of the world, making Ella look humble and meek by comparison. Said he in a condescending tone, "why are you fools not abed?"

Baye shrugged, "we did not revel as hard as our hosts last evening, thus sparing us some of the repercussions."

Said he with disinterest, "perhaps you are not as foolish as you seem, which is not saying much, however. I tire of these rascally buffoons; they weary me exceedingly. I must soon part ways with them, though I fail in my endeavors, perhaps it is a relief that I am spared their company after all."

Baye frowned, "why exactly are you so intent on someone accompanying you into the Wastes, especially this time of year?"

Helve smiled like a mysteriously smug cat, "you will have to come with me to find out."

Baye nodded, "very well, lead on."

Helve actually gaped, "you are crazy enough to come with me?"

Baye shrugged, "why not?"

Helve mastered himself and said, "very well, when do we leave?"

Baye grinned, "the day is wasting."

Helve barely managed to avoid another discomfiting display of astonishment, but nodded abruptly, "very well, to your saddles." They swiftly obeyed, vanishing like the last shadows of night into the rising day.

Helve turned out to be as mysterious and grim a companion as one could hope, often vanishing for hours at a time yet always reappearing just ahead of the party, which traveled at a pace fast enough to satisfy even their dour leader, at least as much as anything seemed to please him. They had a horse for the man, a parting gift from the gypsies, but he was rarely in the saddle, preferring to forge ahead on foot until he vanished beyond the horizon or behind a stand of trees and then they would not see him again for hours, or even an entire day. Always they pressed north and west, passing through the horrid boglands that festered upon the northern borders of the Wilds, beyond which lay the fabled Frozen Wastes, where it was arguable whether the weather or the denizens were worse; the curious trio was eager to find out. They rested as often as Helve saw fit, which was far too little for a mortal man to survive upon, but he did not seem to realize his companions throve even so, which made them wonder who or what their companion was that he could do likewise.

Baye at last saw the sense in traveling through that awful country in the winter, at least as far as the swamps were concerned, for everything was frozen over or had died back, allowing for easy passage, where in warmer months it might have taken days to travel the distance they covered in hours. One morning several days into their journey, Helve returned from his routine vanishment and roused the camp ere the sun was on the rise. Said he, eagerness strong in his voice, "up lads up! Let us see what the day shall bring!"

The Brethren exchanged a curious glance but were soon enough in their saddles, wondering what could so excite their rather unflappable companion. The unicorns alerted them to the presence of a dragon in the vicinity before they had traveled more than an hour. They exchanged an uneasy look, wondering what the creature's presence could portend; hopefully it was a green dragon, else things might grow interesting indeed. Helve paid no heed to his horse, making as good of time afoot as his mounted companions in the tangled mess that was the forested swamp through which they rode and knowing full well what effect dragons had upon horses. The beast snorted uneasily as they emerged into a rocky clearing at the base of a great escarpment, then screamed and fled when a massive eye on a serpentine head and neck blinked curiously in their direction. Baye wore a slight smile to see the creature was indeed green, eager to know what was afoot.

Said the dragon, studying the small company with interest, frowning slightly at the three seeming horses that stood unperturbed in his presence, "this is them, then? They will do I suppose, not as many as I had hoped, but enough to begin with. I had hoped to make an in-depth study of the topic, which will require far more than three, but one must certainly start somewhere."

Baye almost expected the creature to adjust a pair of nonexistent spectacles as it studied them and droned on, but as it trailed off, he asked, "exactly what are you studying, sir?"

The dragon looked at him sharply, as if surprised the creature could talk and annoyed at being thus interrupted, said he in a piqued voice, "I suppose you have the right to know what your contribution to posterity will entail, though I do not like being interrogated by my subjects." His brow wrinkled in consternation, "though I suppose squirrels are not equipped to make such demands."

Baye frowned, "squirrels?"

The dragon brightened, "my last topic of research, I made a thorough study of the various species of squirrel indigenous to this part of the world. I have the manuscript here if you would like to peruse it?" Baye blinked in wonder at this astounding offer while Helve cleared his throat far too audibly. The dragon snorted abashedly and returned to the subject at hand, "perhaps another time. As to my current area of interest, your companion here has intrigued me upon the topic of blood magic. He says there is no topic so little studied in all the expanse of the wide world and has promised to provide me with all the subjects I need to fully explore the matter, hence your presence."

Baye gaped and said in astonishment, "you do know such a topic is little understood because it is forbidden?"

The dragon chortled like a doting mother whose spoiled offspring is up to some small mischief, "perhaps the laws of men prohibit it, but as you can see I am no man and this place is far outside any human jurisdiction, thus it is perfectly legitimate."

Baye shook his head, "it is not humanity that has outlawed the practice, but rather it is written into the very fabric of creation itself. The Master has forbidden it from the first."

The dragon exhaled through his nostrils sharply in irritation, "perhaps, perhaps, but this is purely a scientific pursuit and can have no negative connotations."

Baye said grimly, "any practitioner of said arts, whether merely curious or intent on gaining mastery of such forbidden power, will draw the Master's wrath upon himself."

The dragon frowned, "art? Art did you say?"

Baye nodded, "the dark arts are another name for them, yes."

"Well," said the dragon in disappointment, "I cannot pursue them then, if they are a form of 'art,' and I a creature of pure science. You had best be going then." He added hopefully, "you don't want to look at my squirrel paper do you?"

Helve interrupted with an outraged squawk, "what do you mean you can't proceed? After all the trouble I had in bringing them to you?"

The dragon shook his head, "it cannot be helped, this is an area outside my ken. I study the natural world, this gentlemen is quite right in saying this is a matter of the supernatural. Perhaps the Brethren would have some insight into the matter? I will take up a topic far more palpable, perhaps the catfish that inhabit the sloughs hereabouts?"

Helve motioned sharply for his companions to continue on their way, leaving the dragon to his musings. Said he in quiet fury once they had left the incomprehensible reptile far behind, "so be it, I will have to take this matter to the Council. They shall decide your fate and that of all your race."

Baye said in some startlement, "which council? How is it you can decide the fate of all humanity when that prerogative is the Master's alone?"

Helve said in cold fury, "you will stand before the Council of my people as representatives of your own. A horrible crime has been perpetrated against me and mine by members of your race and someone must be held accountable. I had thought embroiling a dragon in the dark arts would be just the thing to wreak havoc amongst your kindred, but alas, the creature is far too interested in the mundane to be of any use to me. Instead, the Council will deal with you as they see fit. Move." Baye exchanged a wondering look with his apprentices, but did not slacken their pace.

It was an awful journey and any other man would have long since frozen to death or starved upon the way, but ever did the small party press onwards through raging blizzards, freezing temperatures, and scant rations. On clear days, Helve would vanish as was his wont, returning at dusk to huddle beside their meager fire, never saying where he had been or why. He said nothing more to them than he had at the first about the Council, their fate, or his own tragedy, and said nothing more than absolutely necessary about anything else than their journey required. He glowered at them in silent fury when their spirits remained buoyant despite the horrid conditions, their uncertain destiny, and his continued ire. But at last the interminable journey came to an end, at no place in particular, at least that Baye could discern. For snowy plains ran off in every direction to the horizon, broken only by great upthrustings of rock that dotted the endless plain like so many half buried bones.

Helve stood before them, triumphant, and suddenly melted into a great white hawk that circled once with a piercing cry and then vanished into the distance. The trio exchanged an astonished look but stood as still as the rocky crags about them, awaiting whatever was to come. Some hours passed and as the sun stood at its peak, the thud of many hooves and a great snuffling and snorting announced the advent of some great mass of arctic beasts. A herd of musk oxen soon hemmed in the three, great horns and keen eyes focused inward. Helve hovered on the outskirts, still a hawk in form, but suddenly he became a small dragon in midair, swooping in to pick Jace from his saddle and depositing him ungently atop one of the great rocky projections. He darted back just as quickly, landing in the center of the group, a man once more.

Said he with a grand gesture, "how does it feel to have one of your young ones stolen, imperiled, and likely never to be seen again?"

Baye shook his head with a frown, "what are you, what have we to do with any of this?"

Helve said with a sneer, "we are the Akoni and you are on trial for kidnapping."

Baye gaped and Adan's eyes went wide, said Baye at last, "you had best explain."

Helve said with a smirk, "of course you are too simple to understand any of this, but I shall do my best to explain. I will use small words to enhance your comprehension. We are a race of shape-shifters, native to these frozen wastes, our usual guise is that of what you mortals call the Snow Falcon. Some of your Kings take great pleasure in the art of falconry and think our children the birds best suited to their tastes. My son was stolen in just such a manner and lost forever in the southlands. You will be held accountable for his loss and your entire race might well suffer for it."

Baye shook his head, "how can we be held accountable for such a grievous crime when we are neither the perpetrators nor knew anything of your race? We would happily seek your missing child and find those who are truly guilty, but how can they be held accountable when they thought it a mere bird they had stolen? You must make your race known to mankind if this practice is to stop."

The greatest of the musk oxen declared grudgingly, "he speaks sense, but we cannot allow our people to become known to yours lest disaster result. If this is the price we must pay to maintain our secret, then so be it, but I fear we cannot allow you to return to the southlands and betray us."

Helve burst out, "then no one is to be held accountable for this grievous insult? The race of men will continue to prey upon us? How can such a filthy kindred be allowed to continue upon the face of the earth? This is why I tried to take matters into my own hands, for I knew the Council would not give me justice!"

The great ox turned a perplexed eye upon Baye, "what does he mean?"

Baye said grimly, "he tried to trick a green dragon into studying the intricacies of the dark arts, but the creature wisely discerned that such arcane studies were not within his purview."

The hairy ruminant shuddered, "that would have been disaster indeed!" He turned a grim eye upon Helve, "you are an utter fool! We shall deal with you in due course, now fetch back that other so we may put this matter permanently to rest." He said gravely to Baye, "you and yours must perish, for I will not allow you to return to your people in possession of such a secret." Baye bowed his head gravely as Helve took wing to retrieve the missing Jace, muttering darkly as he went.

Helve threw the boy to the ground atop the rocky spire, said he as he perched upon the edge, ready to take wing, "let us see if your friends can salvage your life." He laughed darkly, "or even their own." He vanished over the edge as Jace stood, a bitter wind howling morosely about him; he smiled grimly, knowing he would soon freeze atop this stony tower if it were not for his uncanny nature. This thought had barely registered in his mind before the light within him stirred, consuming him utterly. Suddenly he was somewhere far warmer, wetter, and utterly dark. He blinked in astonishment, knowing he stood in a swampy woodland somewhere in the far south of the world on an overcast night. He crouched down in the surrounding vegetation when he caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye.

He saw a silent form, apparently a sleeping man, off to one side of the small clearing with a dying fire in its midst. A shadow wavered in and out of perception, as if it hovered on the verge of two realities, one foot in the mortal world and the other in some other realm beyond human comprehension. Jace's hand strayed to his sword hilt, but he knew this foe was not meant for him. It stooped over the sleeping form Jace now recognized as Hawk, the boy cried out in his sleep but did not waken, but began thrashing as if he struggled valiantly in some dark dream. Suddenly he was on his feet, crying as one in fear of his life yet knowing his foe must be overcome at any cost. Hawk drew his sword and charged another shadowy form that loomed out of the darkness, running the startled man through the heart. They collapsed together into the shrubbery, Hawk finally coming awake only to scream in horror at the unmoving form of Scamp beneath him. His head snapped up and he glanced about the clearing in panic, as if seeking some place to run or hide from this atrocious accident.

Then he saw it, the vengeful shadow had become a dancing, bobbing, glowing sphere that mesmerized and soothed the horrified youth, like a tiny star strayed out of the heavens to act as guide to this forsaken soul. He stood as one in a trance, leaving his sword and murdered mentor forgotten behind him and followed the will-o-the-wisp into the depths of the night dark swamp. Jace knelt beside Scamp, pulling the sword from his chest and sending a pulse of light into his prone form; he squawked in surprise before vanishing in a brilliant flash. The boy then stood and followed after Hawk and the wisp. They had not gone far and Hawk was again in his right mind, though he would have given anything to be out of it permanently.

The wisp had led him into the treacherous mire where he now struggled vainly as the bog patiently engulfed him while the wisp danced above in mocking circles, chortling, "what will come of you now foolish, foolish one? Your Master has forsaken you, you are not good enough, never will be! Ha! All that awaits you is death, and then the Abyss, for there can be but one place for murderers and failures!"

Hawk cried in dismay, "no! It was a mistake, a horrible mistake!"

The wisp scorned, "what does it matter? You are lost, forsaken, condemned!"

Hawk wept, "no, it cannot be!"

The wisp said in mockery, "oh but it is, it is the awful truth and even you know it, but my master is merciful where yours will cast aside the broken and the failure. Would you remain true to such a one? Come, cast yourself upon my master's mercy! Am I not a being of light and splendor! Such power could be yours as well."

Hawk said in despair as the mire squelched around his neck, "a being of light indeed! You are nothing but hatred in a shining garment and your master a liar through and through. Perhaps it is best that this fen consume me utterly but I will never throw myself on your master's false mercies."

Jace appeared out of the darkness and the wisp fled into the night with a snarl of fury and terror, knowing this wretched intruder could destroy him and would undoubtedly ruin his carefully crafted plans for the miserable creature even now vanishing forever beneath the mire. Jace smiled triumphantly as the thing fled but his countenance grew grave as he looked upon his stricken friend, said he, "come, this is no place to linger."

Hawk said quietly, "leave me, it is for the best. You do not know what I have wrought."

Jace shook his head, "I saw and know you are no killer, now come, it is not for you to decide your own fate when rescue is at hand. The Master has not forsaken you neither should you forsake Him!"

Hawk smiled grimly, "very well." With one last effort he thrust his hand out of the mire and took that offered by Jace. The moment their hands touched, the light consumed them both. Hawk stood blinking in astonishment, for the sun was on the rise as they stood on a small ridge overlooking Astoria. He turned to Jace in wonder and resignation, said he, "I suppose I must face the Lady's justice? Dare I ask what has happened this night?"

Jace smiled slightly, "you will know the full tale soon enough, and as for the Lady, she will know what she must in due course, but first you must await your fate in the dungeons."

Hawk blanched but nodded dully, "so be it." His shoulders slumped in dejection as sobs wracked his being at what he had done, at the thought of never seeing Scamp again, at least this side of eternity.

Jace clapped him on the back, "there is no need for tears, my friend. Nothing is as it seems. Let the day reveal what it will but you have nothing to fear nor reason to weep."

Hawk stared at him with astonished but hopeful eyes, somehow knowing the day's wonders had only just begun. Together they turned towards the city and whatever awaited them there. They passed silently into the wakening city and into the castle proper, drawing questioning looks from their comrades but no awkward queries. Jaire stood before the door leading down into the cellblock, he nodded a greeting to Jace and let the pair pass without a word. Hawk frowned at the silent interchange but allowed himself to be led below. The room was empty save for themselves. He found a chair and two ancient books awaiting him in the cell. His frown deepened, "what is going on here?"

Jace shook his head but smiled enigmatically, "that I cannot tell you, but you will know soon enough. I recommend you do a little reading while you wait. Farewell!"

Hawk cried out, "but wait!" But Jace was already ascending the stairs.

Jace stopped to exchange a few quiet words with Jaire, said he, "there will be seven of us?"

Jaire glanced about to make sure they were alone and then replied, "nay lad, one of us is about to retire." At Jace's concerned frown, Jaire continued with a slight smile, "the swordmaster has grown weary of this service, but before you go bemoaning his decision, remember he has been at this nearly as long as I have and that is a very long time, especially to a mortal man. You'll understand in a few centuries. Go say your farewells and then return to your friends." Jace was silent in astonishment, but made the proper courtesies before hastening off to do as he was bidden.

He found the swordmaster in his accustomed place in the practice yard. The grizzled old man smiled warmly at the lad as they exchanged a few words, but soon the first class of the day was ambling in and they were forced to make their farewells. Said the swordmaster in parting, "you lads will do quite well, and I'll see you again soon enough." He grinned impishly, "now get ye gone!" He took a feigned swing at the boy with the wooden sword he was holding and Jace smiled broadly as he fled, nearly trampling Scamp as he came round the corner.

Said Scamp in dismay, "I must see the Lady immediately. She needs to find Hawk a mentor who won't get him killed! It is a dangerous thing to apprentice with the likes of us and have no part in the Shadow."

Jace grinned, "I wouldn't worry about that. You'll find your missing apprentice biding his time in the dungeon. I think your concerns will shortly be moot." Scamp gaped openly but Jace continued, "would you mind? I need to get back to Baye and Adan somewhere in the far north." Scamp nodded dully, still overwrought by the day's revelations, as he placed a hand on Jace's chest and banished him with a pulse of light.

Jace came to himself atop the rocky outcropping with the wind still howling like a forsaken soul about him. Helve landed suddenly, taking the form of a ravening wolf, said he in grim anticipation, "the dragon won't indulge in blood magic nor the Council see justice done, so I must do it myself. Your blood will suffice and they will all rue the day they denied me vengeance." He lunged at Jace's throat but a great shriek rent the air as another Akoni dove out of the lowering clouds that now covered the sky.

Screeched the second, "traitor! You know such is forbidden, even to us! You will call down destruction upon us all unless you pay for your crimes." Suddenly a great red dragon perched awkwardly atop the rocky edifice and took Helve in one clawed hand and the stricken Jace in the other. He dropped them both next to Baye and the others before facing the great ox, said he in revulsion, "he was about to indulge in blood magic and thus destroy us all!"

The great ox shook his shaggy head gravely, "do you deny it?"

Helve snarled, "I deny nothing, I only regret I was not fast enough. I suppose you will doom me to die with these wretched mortals? Well, at least I shall sit in judgment over them, that is if such benighted creatures truly have immortal souls."

Bays said grimly, "I would look to my own soul first and fear the judgment thereof!"

Helve scoffed, "I am content and the Master shall greet me as a long lost son, for are not the Akoni the pinnacle of creation? You lesser souls can be nothing to that! What need have I of redemption?" He turned to the great dragon, "have done with it then!" The beast turned to the ox, who nodded gravely as the other Akoni withdrew, then fire consumed them all.

"That was unpleasant," said Adan as they suddenly found themselves somewhere else entirely.

Baye shared a grin with Jace, "at least it wasn't boring. How many can say they've succumbed to dragon fire?"

Jace shook his head, "speak for yourself, I missed out entirely!"

Adan shivered, "you could have had my share in the adventure!"

Baye grinned all the more, "come lad, having your throat torn out by a wolf intent on using the dark arts to achieve vengeance is no dull fate either."

Jace smiled at the irony of their conversation and said, "I suppose it will suffice. Now what are we doing here?" The warmth and humidity of their surroundings suddenly minded him of the swamp where he had found Hawk and Scamp. His smile deepened as comprehension dawned, "we are going to free the imprisoned Akoni which is in the keeping of some great lord of the south."

Baye nodded proudly, "right you are lad, even the father of your one time beloved."

Jace's smile grew rueful, "that is not much of a betrothal gift, first abandoning his daughter and now absconding with his prized bird, but we have little choice; we cannot leave such a creature in captivity nor can we reveal his true nature to his possessors." He smiled eagerly as he took in their apparel, clad as the king's own guardsmen, they should have little difficulty entering the castle.

They were soon in their saddles and riding through the city, no one giving them a second glance as they passed. Baye shook his head in wonder, "people see only what they want to see. Peace and prosperity have dwelt here so long that no one even imagines danger or tragedy could come upon them at any moment."

Jace said quietly, "so too do most folk obliviously go about their lives, little knowing that there are greater things within and beyond life than they can ever imagine." He grinned ruefully, "such was I! And but for the Master's grace, so would I still be."

They rode on in silence until they clattered into the courtyard of the castle and drew rein. Just as they were dismounting, a great commotion erupted at a side door of the castle where the Steward appeared to be berating a young woman in a servant's garb. She glared at the irate man as if he were the insolent underling and she the offended mistress. The trio of faux guards exchanged a slight smile and waited patiently by their horses until the Steward ended his tirade and summarily ordered them to escort the woman from the premises. She bore their interference well, one might have thought they were the prisoners and she the guard, but they obediently led her out of the Steward's sight, presumably out a small side gate rather than out the grand main entrance of the palace.

They retreated to a sunny courtyard abutting the kitchen gardens and the stables, where their only companion was an indifferent chicken searching for spilled grain or unwary insects. She rounded on them immediately, "unhand me you degenerate thugs! You have no right to treat me so."

Baye released his hold on their prisoner and bowed deeply, "we are at your service madam and our treatment of you a mere pretense for the Steward's benefit."

She gaped at him, "how is it you have the decency to treat a lady as you ought?"

Baye smiled slightly, "I believe we are here on similar purpose madam, but you must forgive the folk hereabouts, they know nothing of your peculiar people or dire quest, nor do they see more than a servant when they look upon you and your behavior is not in keeping with your attire. You would have done better to accouter yourself as a noble lady rather than a servant."

She studied him quietly, a thoughtful look in her eye, said she at last, "but a servant may go where ladies cannot."

Baye grinned, "true, but not servants who act the noble lady. Perhaps we may be of some benefit?"

Said she with a frown, "how is it you know of my plight?"

Baye said, "we have just returned from your homeland lady and know of your people and your imperiled offspring. We offer our services in retrieving the latter."

She shook her head, "do you know what it is you risk?" Her gaze became feral, like some great hunting cat at bay, hissed she, "how is it you have learned the truth and yet are allowed to return to this race of betrayers?"

Baye said grimly, "that is a matter you must take up with your Council."

Said she, little mollified, "perhaps I shall not be so lenient."

Baye bowed his head, "do as you must, but first let us see to the young one."

She gaped at him anew, wondering at such an enigma; she had threatened his life yet still he insisted on helping her. Her frown deepened, "what are you truly after? Do you wish the prize for yourself?"

Baye shook his head, "nay lady, I merely wish to see the captive free, and to that end I will pay whatever price I must."

She studied him soberly, nodded to herself, and said, "very well, but know it will cost you dear. Perhaps this will atone for the injury your kindred have wrought, at least in this instance. Come." She led them around the back of the palace and crouched amongst a well tended grove in the castle gardens. Said she, gesturing towards a small door guarded by two grim looking soldiers, "that is our goal, the King's Hawk Room. I tried to venture thither in a servant's garb but only the most trusted of his menials are allowed anywhere near the King's birds, and thus was I reprimanded, which I could not endure, so I told the Steward what I truly thought; thus my dismissal."

Baye shook his head in wonder, "and what do you propose madam?"

She smiled wickedly, "I had thought to take the form of a red dragon, scatter or destroy those who stood in my way, and then abscond with my son, but I fear it is a little too dramatic."

Baye nodded, "we should also avoid injuring or otherwise imperiling innocents in this endeavor, though you see us all as guilty in this matter, my folk know nothing of your people and think the creature a mere bird. I suggest a slight alteration in your plan."

She listened thoughtfully, was not pleased with his plea of ignorance for humanity, but at last agreed to the idea. It was both dramatic and simple, which pleased her immensely. Baye and Jace crept from their hiding place and charged the guards minding the door, immediately engaging the pair in a vicious sword fight, the Brethren being careful not to injure their opponents, as they were not truly enemies but rather simple men doing their appointed duty. As the feint drew the guards away from their post, Adan and the lady crept towards the door, but found it locked. Said she in grim anticipation, "perhaps the dragon will avail us after all." She suddenly shifted and a dragon sat incongruously in the palace gardens. Said she to Adan, "I will batter down the door, you run in and grab my son, bring him to me, and I will bear him away from here." Adan nodded and she crushed the door with a single blow.

He dashed into the room, glanced about hastily until he found the specified bird, and immediately threw a bag over its head as he began to cut the jesses. The various inhabitants of the room were screeching and hissing their terror and upset, which drew one of the keepers into the room. He was about to berate the insolent youth when he saw a great draconian eye peering in the window; he bellowed in terror and fled the room. Adan finished his task and brought the screeching and flapping fledgling out to its mother. Baye and Jace soon joined them, their foes having fled upon sighting the dragon.

She looked fondly down at the writhing creature in her foreclaws and said in parting, "I appreciate your assistance, but you do understand there can be no witnesses." Without waiting for an answer, her flames reduced all three of them to cinders. Content that justice had at last been satisfied, she took wing and vanished from the Kingdom, leaving the terrified populace to wonder if she would soon return or why a dragon would steal a hawk.

"You are right," said Jace, shaking himself, "dragon fire is not a pleasant experience." He glanced about, wondering what their next mission would entail and hoping this sudden coming and going was not a routine part of his new occupation.

Baye said in amusement, "nay lad, our recent adventures have been a bit uncanny, you need not worry that this sort of thing is all your future."

Jace smiled in relief, "that is good to know, I am getting a bit disoriented with all these sudden appearances and disappearances."

Adan asked with a frown, "how do such comings and goings work within the framework of time? It was still early morning when we left and now it is full dark."

Baye nodded, "occasionally we must defy the usual rules of time and space to accomplish what we must, but usually we are bound by them as much as any creature in the mortal sphere."

Jace smiled as comprehension dawned, "so that is how I could have my own adventure while you two chatted with the Akoni." He then recounted his encounter with Hawk and Scamp.

Baye shook his head grimly, "that was a nasty trick, no wonder the boy was near despair! To think you had inadvertently killed your own mentor! But he'll soon have far better things to muse upon." He smiled sadly, "so the swordmaster is retiring? He will be missed, but he has been at it since nearly the Beginning."

Jace asked with a frown, "has he a name?"

Baye laughed, "probably, but I have never heard it. That leaves only Jared, the rest of us are relative newcomers to this service, especially you three lads!" He quieted suddenly and motioned for them all to crouch down amongst the tangled brush.

The sound of hooves soon reached their ears, accompanied by the voice of a bitterly complaining man, said he, "let's find somewhere to camp for the night. I don't want a patrol stumbling upon us in the dark."

"Fine," hissed a second voice, "we are close enough to our destination that we can make it in one final push on the morrow, though I prefer the cover the darkness offers. Though I suppose it might avail our enemies likewise."

There came the sounds of dismounting, unpacking, and the setting up of a rough camp, all of which the three intruders watched from their hiding place. Once the unnamed party was settled in for the remainder of the night, with all save the sentry sound asleep, the three crept from their hiding place thinking to explore the camp, but Adan nearly stepped on one of the villains and took a sword through the heart for his inattention. Jace and Baye had their weapons immediately in hand and were soon lost in a swirl of swords and curses. As Jace tangled with one villain, he struck a mortal blow to his foe but fell beneath the man as he toppled forward. He lay on his back, under the dead man, staring his sister full in the face. She sat beside a slightly older woman, also of the Brethren, both wide-eyed, bound and gagged. He rolled over, pushing his dead foe aside, and immediately began working to free his comrades.

He had just freed them both when he felt a sword pierce his flank, he fell with a groan and ordered, "run!"

Brie gave him a heartbreaking look of gratefulness and horror before vanishing after her mentor into the shadows. He sought their unicorns with his mind, the creatures eagerly answering his query and agreeing to carry their riders far away from their captors, regardless of the ladies' intentions. The next moment he felt a clout upside the head and the world went dark. He awoke to find Baye beside him, also bound and nursing an injured shoulder. They exchanged a grim smile and then focused on the surviving villains, the foremost of which was standing over them and glowering fiercely. Said he in fury, "what were you fools thinking? You may have freed the women but at what cost? You have traded three lives for two!" He glanced about in dismay at his decimated company, saying grudgingly, "though I must say we have not escaped unscathed either, but it matters not. Your blood will suffice in their stead and I can always hire more minions. On your feet, we ride at once."

There were now plenty of spare horses, so the captured pair was easily mounted though they found riding while bound rather awkward. As the day brightened, they gaped to recognize the country through which they rode. Someone was bold indeed to mount such an expedition within the very bounds of Astoria, less that a day's ride from the city! Jace's heart sank as he realized where these fellows must be heading and wondering what fell sorcery they could accomplish in that wretched fortress and what it would mean for Astoria if they were successful. A grim smile grew on his face as he realized his blood was of no use to these particular fiends, now he could muse upon their surprise when their plans suddenly went awry. He glanced at Baye and they exchanged an eager smile.

They kept to the little used cart paths, abandoned this time of year, and game trails, avoiding the road and the potential witnesses thereupon, nearly frantic at the thought of discovery. As evening fell, the woods opened into a clearing Jace knew all too well along with the fortress therein. Said their guide triumphantly, "welcome home lads, your blood is going to consecrate this ruin and make it a haven of evil within the very heart of Astoria."

They were unceremoniously pulled from their horses and forced to their knees as a shadowy figure loomed out of the encroaching darkness, hissed the fell voice, "excellent! We will proceed immediately."

Their throats were cut as casually as if their captors were slaughtering sheep and every last drop of their blood was collected in two separate basins. The corpses were drug aside and forgotten as the chief villain stood over his grim prize, chanting in an awful tongue while his minions cowered in absolute terror, praying to any gods there might be for rescue. A cloaked figure ghosted furtively along the wall and knelt beside the prone forms, laying a firm hand on each unmoving chest. The pair stirred to life and smiled up at the hooded Adan, quickly turning their attention to the senior fiend. Content with his vile rites, he then ordered his minions into action. Even more terrified of the fiend than of his sorcery, they suddenly roused to life, each taking up a bowl or bucket and filling it with the consecrated blood. They hastened to the walls, each carefully pouring the contents of his vessel along the entire perimeter of the crumbling structure.

Once the task was completed, the fiend stood forth once more and began intoning in his dreadful way, "now let this place be a haven for evil and may our master gain a foothold in the very heart of our enemy's territory!"

The earth began to tremble in response to his words, but it was not triumph that covered his face but terror. An earthquake shook the ruin to its very foundations, casting men and stones alike to the ground. When the world resigned itself to stillness, the place was a ruin indeed and never more would it serve as a haven for anything more villainous than pigeons and mice. The villains lay dead, scattered about and crushed by falling debris. Baye exchanged a grim look with his apprentices as all three picked themselves up and dusted themselves off. They quietly buried the dead and then abandoned the silent ruin once more to the whims of time and weather.

As they made their way back towards Astoria, Jace suddenly stopped, an uneasy look in his eyes. Baye looked soberly at the boy and said, "it is time." Jace nodded resignedly while Adan frowned in confusion. Said Baye quietly, "a strange and uncomfortable journey lies before you lad, but remember, whatever betide, the Master will never forget nor forsake you." He smiled warmly, "though brief, I have vastly enjoyed our time together. Fare thee well!" He raised a hand in farewell, but the boy leapt upon him with a ferocious hug. Certainly not blinking away tears, both withdrew from the embrace somewhat awkwardly, and then Jace said to Adan, "we'll meet again one day, you have been a dear friend." He gave the flummoxed youth a firm nod and then turned suddenly on his heel and walked away, knowing if he dared look back his heart would break.

Adan turned questioning eyes upon Baye, who wistfully watched his apprentice retreat into the shadows of the forest as the day quickened about them. Said he quietly to his remaining apprentice, "it is a journey we all must take lad, your own turn will come soon enough, but he must take it alone. There are things he must learn about the Master and about himself and about this new world of which he is now a part." He turned back towards the city and said quietly, "come lad, we have our own journey before us."

Brie nearly trampled them as they entered the castle gates, desperate for some word of her brother. Baye shook his head at her insistent demands, "easy lass, I cannot say of a certain where he is or what he is doing, but know without a doubt that he will return. He survived the adventure with your kidnappers, don't fret about that, but he is off on another quest and may be some time in coming." She sighed in frustration but knew she would get no more out of the infuriating Brother. Briane was not sure which upset her the more, that she had been kidnapped in the first place, that her brother had had to rescue her, or that he already wore the uniform of a full Brother! She heaved a furious sigh and flounced into the castle, leaving Adan and Baye to exchange amused glances.

Jace's heart was heavy, heavy as it had not been since the morning he stood upon the battlements pondering the futility of life and the purpose thereof. He knew something was coming, a trial that would perhaps be the hardest of his life, but he also knew that beyond it lay something well worth the sorrow and toil that lay ahead. He vanished into the trees and then hid himself in a small grove, away from any prying eyes. A flutter of wings and a flash of white announced the advent of an avian intruder in the little dell, the magpie lit on a branch and studied the boy with his too keen eyes, said He, "are you ready lad?"

The boy bowed his head, "I have no idea what is to come, but yes, I am ready."

"Very well," said He, "remember, no matter what follows, I will never forsake nor forget you." He flitted to the boy's shoulder and the light consumed them both.

Jace blinked slowly awake, certain that this is how he would have felt had he wakened with his injuries unhealed after his tumble into the gorge. He gasped in horror as he realized his Master's light no longer pulsed within his being. He sat up suddenly in panic and immediately regretted it. With a groan he collapsed in agony into his previous position. No, he felt worse than he would of had he awakened injured after his fall. Not only had the light vanished, but he felt every insult and injury he had ever taken. His leg ached as it had during his recovery, and he knew his other wounds, once so easily healed and forgotten, had left scars and residual stiffness and pain that he must now bear. Slowly he sat up and looked about, not surprised to find himself clad in the near rags he had worn upon his advent in Astoria.

He felt at his face and smiled in grim amusement to feel the start of a rough beard. His stomach complained as it had not done in living memory and suddenly he knew he was well and truly mortal. He tried to stand, but his leg was reluctant to bear weight at that particular moment. Hobbling on his good leg, he found a sturdy branch and used it as a walking stick to relieve his complaining leg. At last he glanced about at the local scenery, momentarily content with his physical wellbeing; he was not encouraged by what he saw. It was still winter and he was still somewhere in the northern half of the world, the Wilds by the look of it. Worse, he had no food, no supplies, not even a belt knife. He had never before been so helpless or so alone, save during the desperate flight to Astoria, but that had been of short duration. Here there was no warm and welcoming presence to succor him in his despair.

He grinned ruefully, but then, neither was he in despair. He might be utterly alone, powerless, doomed to die of starvation or exposure, but his Master had promised never to forsake him, no matter what was to come. He frowned, knowing this was the purpose of this little excursion: he must learn to trust the Master in all things and would be thoroughly reminded that any strength, power, or success in which he was a partaker was far from his own doing. He shook his head and smiled grimly, it would be a lesson well worth learning but far from pleasant while it lasted. With a heavy sigh, Jace set off into the dawning day, with no idea as to where he was going or why.

He walked all day but encountered no one upon his way and found nothing to satisfy his angry stomach. As evening drew on, he wondered if he had best just collapse in a ditch and be done with it, but the lights of an inn beckoned cheerfully through the leafless trees. Forcing his aching body to take a few more steps, he eventually found himself standing upon the doorstep, knowing he could afford neither food nor a room, but perhaps a little time in front of the fire would be a relief in his current plight. He hobbled into the bright common room and settled in an unobtrusive chair by the fire, hoping the innkeeper wouldn't immediately take him for some vagrant or renegade and chase him back into the bitter night.

"You look cold, father," came a gentle voice. Jace looked up in surprise but hid his astonishment as Kent stood with one hand on the back of his chair, a look of pity and concern on his face. Father? He must look worse than he thought if someone could mistake him for an aged gentleman! Continued the oblivious Warrior, "let me get you something warm to eat, at least." Jace could not refuse such an offer and nodded his grateful acceptance. As he ate, he mused upon the sudden turn his life had taken, only a day prior he had been a formidable warrior immune to death and the sufferings native to the mortal sphere; today he found himself a wanderer and a vagrant, completely dependent upon the generosity of strangers for his continued sustenance, a man who could barely walk, let alone wield a sword. He was enjoying the irony immensely when the Brother returned and said quietly, "I have arranged a room for you, if you would wish it." Jace nodded eagerly, but dared not speak, having no idea whether his voice would betray him or not. The Warrior patted him congenially on the shoulder and nodded his farewells.

In the morning life was a little brighter, much rested and more accustomed to the constant physical pain of his old injuries, he was also pleased to find a small satchel, containing food and some small necessities for a man traveling abroad in the winter, awaiting him. He thanked the innkeeper, who said gruffly, "it is all that Brother's work, I'd have nothing to do with ye if it were left to me, now take yerself and be gone from my inn."

Jace smiled incorrigibly, which looked downright villainous in his current state, nodded his thanks regardless, and hobbled out the door. He had forgotten what it was to need sleep, to ache, to thirst, to hunger, to shiver with cold, or to be lonely; his smile turned rueful as he realized this was but another lesson he was set to learn upon this unthinkable journey. Once he might have thought his time was being wasted in such a pursuit, that he was far more useful chasing bandits and righting wrongs, but he was wiser now and knew that his time and life were not his own, they were a gift from the Master and must be used as He saw fit, which was the only right and proper use of such a wonderful gift.

Kent's generosity the previous night touched him deeply, as had the general warmth and charity of the Brethren as a whole, for he had spent his entire adult life amongst them. While he had glimpsed the darker side of human nature from a distance or seen its results during his adventures, little had he experienced it personally. While his father was an eccentric, he was never abusive or neglectful, the boy had had a full share in everything the man had, little as it was, as had his servants. But that was about to change. A weary beggar, alone in the Wilds, was either someone to be feared, driven off, or preyed upon by most of the denizens thereof. Kent's generosity would be the last kindness he was to know for a very long time.

Night threatened to overtake Jace once more but again cheerful lights beckoned him onwards. This was no inn but a humble farmstead. Hoping to earn a night's lodging and a bit of supper, Jace thought to knock upon the door and ask if he might be of use. He never got the chance, for the farmer saw the reprehensible looking figure approaching and immediately loosed the dogs. With a shriek of terror, Jace hobbled off down the road as fast as he could manage, stumbling in his haste and tumbling into the ditch where icy water from the recent melt waited to greet him. The dogs stood at the top of the bank, growling and fretting, but soon their master recalled them as their quarry righted himself and crawled deeper into the woods, hoping to start a fire. But everything had been doused in the fall so he spent a miserable, sleepless night shivering in the impenetrable blackness.

He rose with the dawn, hoping movement would drive the chill from his bones, but his spirits had never been so low. He had become so used to the ways of the Brethren, their hearty embracement of anyone and everyone in need, that it grieved him sorely to realize they were the exception rather than the rule in this troubled world. For three more days he hobbled on, cold and aching, but resigned to whatever lay ahead, seeing no sign of human habitation. His food eventually ran out and his stomach again began to protest. At least his supplies had dried and he was able to start a fire of an evening. Around midday he wandered into a small village, the inhabitants stared at him stonily, as if they had never seen a beggar before. He thought to ask someone, anyone, if he might somehow work for his supper and a bed, but their glares said far more than words ever could. He hied himself from that place as quickly as he had fled the farmer's dogs.

The wind picked up and the temperature plummeted as evening came on, he knew he must find shelter or he might well freeze. The flickering light of a distant fire drew his attention and he hastened towards it, little knowing whose it might be but knowing it could not be worse than another night alone in the frigid darkness. It was worse, for it was the seediest bunch of men Jace had ever laid eyes upon, and he had seen some rascally looking characters during his brief adventures. Every hand moved towards a weapon as he hobbled into their midst and cold, calculating eyes studied him intently. Jace smiled wryly, he looked as if he might be one of their foremost members.

His grin faded as one of them demanded, "what do you want, scoundrel?"

Jace said hesitantly, "I saw your fire and thought it better than spending the night alone in the woods."

The man hissed in surprise, "I told you lads someone would see that blaze! Out with it and go without if you can't hide it better. The last thing we need is one of those thrice cursed Brethren riding unbidden into the camp."

He turned burning eyes upon Jace, "get you gone wretch!"

Jace blanched in terror and turned to comply when a great burly fellow grabbed him by the tunic and snarled in his face with rancid breath, "we can't just let him go, boss. Who knows who he might tell or what he might say."

"True enough," said the boss, "do with him as you like. Just make sure he never betrays us."

The scoundrel shrugged and tossed the captive into the bole of a great tree. Jace slid down the trunk into the gully at its base where the bandits let him lie. They departed with the dawn, a few of the scoundrels pausing in their packing to grin menacingly at him, but otherwise they left him alone. He had felt several bones break upon impact and wondered if something were not amiss internally as well. His breathing was erratic and ragged, his mind wandered, and he had never felt such physical agony. The bandits wandered off and left him to his fate. Was this it then? Was he just to lie here and slowly die of starvation or whatever havoc his collision with the tree had wrought?

And for the first time he looked his mortality full in the face. He knew if he died here, it would be death indeed, there would be no miraculous waking and further adventures. The Master would not intercede this time, stepping in to alter the inevitable as He had when Jace plunged into the gorge. Neither would this be a glorious unmaking of his physical self, unable to maintain itself in the very presence of the Master. It was death, pure and simple. He would die alone, slowly, and in great pain, unmissed and unmourned. Was this ignomious end all that would come of him? What of the stories, what of the Shadow, what of everything? Was it all a lie? A dream?

Then he remembered a little bird and a dear friend, both promising he would never be forsaken or forgotten. But then a great raven lit on his chest, driving everything but terror from his mind. He had felt this presence before, knew exactly who this creature was, it croaked, "cast you out has He? Now you'll die in a ditch, forgotten. Typical! It is not too late; I can yet save you. Bend your stubborn neck and bow to me and I will give you all your heart desires."

Jace sighed, "I might be dying in a ditch, but if this is my Master's will, then so be it. Leave me in peace."

With a mocking squawk the raven took wing and left the boy alone with his misery. Jace clung desperately to those words given him upon parting with both Baye and the Master, praying that they might be true. An icy rain started to fall, only increasing the boy's misery and he began to weep bitterly.

The wan light of another dawn crept into the little clearing, it fell upon a shuddering, exhausted form, pale in the dim light, but he heeded it not. All Jace knew was cold, pain, misery, loneliness, and darkness; there was nothing else in all of reality, never had been, never would be. He was not sure when his physical shell gave up its struggle to survive, but he felt death's cold hand about him and wondered if the grave could possibly be worse than his time in the ditch, broken and cold. Everything was darkness, but he felt as if he had some shape or form, if only a darker blotch in the absolute dark of this place. Then it came, it filled him with such terror that he could do nothing but flee before it. It pursued as grimly as the farmer's dogs had given chase, and he ran all the faster, but the faster he ran the faster it pursued.

What it was, he could not say exactly, whether some vile creature of the darkness or the darkness itself or even the Abyss opening wide to consume him utterly, but he knew it must not catch him. So on and on he ran, but ever it gave chase, nipping at his heels, slavering just behind him. He knew nothing of exhaustion in this place, only terror and the incessant pursuit. Then the thought struck him, could it catch him why had it not? Was it merely toying with him or was there more to it than that? Suddenly he stopped. His pursuer stopped, growling and fretting just beyond reach. He began to walk and it slunk after, as if it hoped to nip him in the rump when he wasn't looking but not daring to come closer. He turned and faced the thing, whatever it was, and knew it had no part in him.

He did not belong to the darkness or to the Abyss or despair or anything else, he belonged to the Master and this vile thing could not touch him. With this realization, the thing howled in despair and fled yipping into the distance. Suddenly there was light in that place, one a glorious, awful light and the other the tepid light of the mortal world. Two doors gaped before him and he knew he must choose. He could pursue that wondrous light into the Master's own country and vanish forever from all the pain and sorrow with which the mortal world is fraught or he could return to the world he once knew and continue as he had begun. He studied that glorious light for a moment in pure joy and then made his choice.

Baye stood before the Lady of Astoria, she sat in her chair wearing a look of barely concealed annoyance, demanded she, "where are they Baye?" Baye met her gaze evenly but made no reply, continued she, "first Jace vanishes, then Adan, and now Hawk. Where are they?"

Baye shook his head, saying regretfully, "I cannot say my Lady."

She speared him with her gaze, "cannot or will not?"

Baye smiled ruefully, "happily, this time it is cannot. I do not know what has come of them. They will probably return, but it could be a very long time."

She shook her head in exasperation, "am I ever to know the full truth?"

Baye said solemnly, "not while this life lasts, my Lady. But perhaps one day."

She sat back resignedly and asked, "what can you tell me of their fate?"

Baye replied, "each of us must undertake such a journey, it is the final trial of our service, the end of our apprenticeship as it were. Each man's is different and unique to his own needs and experience. But we can be gone for as little as five years and up to a century and beyond."

She gaped openly at him, "a century? You mean to tell me I may not live to see them return?"

Baye shook his head, "it is a possibility my Lady."

She eyed him curiously, "and how long were you gone?"

Baye grinned, "about twenty years."

She nodded in sudden understanding, "I remember hearing rumors that you were once assumed dead and then miraculously reappeared when no one thought you could possibly return."

Baye chuckled, "so it is Lady."

She said grimly, "Adan and Hawk may vanish for as long as they please and none may be the wiser, but Jace has a sister and mother who are constantly asking questions and demanding answers."

Baye shook his head, "that is one reason for the extended vanishment, to break ties with our surviving kin. Briane may well see her brother again someday but I fear his mother won't live to see his return."

The Lady nodded grimly, "then you may apprise her of the situation." Baye gaped like a stranded fish but managed a passable bow as he set off to fulfill this unenviable mission.

The years passed and eventually Adan and Hawk did reappear, but still Jace did not return. Juliene grew old and eventually died with no sign as to the fate of her son. Baye's strange words both reassured and perplexed her, the only certainty was that eventually, whatever betide, they would meet again in the Master's bright country. Briane was both grieved and furious that Jace could tarry so long, but secretly believed he was dead and would never return more, whatever Baye said to the contrary.

The years pressed ever onward and still Jace did not return, but the Lady grew old and frail and knew her own days were now numbered. One night she sat before the fire, an open book unnoticed in her lap, pondering the mysteries of life and all that lay beyond it. She had so much to do but she could no longer accomplish half of what she could in her relatively lengthy youth, or even a year gone. The sudden creak of the door drew her from her reverie and brought a look of astonishment to her face.

Said she with a slight smile to the servant that had intruded upon her solitude, "have you ever heard of knocking Jared?"

The servant smiled and bowed deeply, "forgive the intrusion Lady, but I thought you might appreciate a few answers to the riddles that have troubled you all these years."

She frowned at him, "riddles?"

Jared grinned, "answers to all the questions that surround me and my fellows."

Understanding dawned immediately, "I get my answers at long last but they will do me little good it seems."

Jared shook his head, "I am afraid not, but at least I can satisfy your curiosity."

She settled back in her chair and said with a smile of anticipation, "very well, enthrall me." And so he did. She was both satisfied and surprised by his revelations, having imagined certain parts of the matter to be quite different than they actually were but also having guessed correctly far more than she had anticipated. As the sun was on the rise, Jared rose and said quietly, "it is time, Lady."

She nodded, smiled slightly, and said, "I know."

He knelt before her, she held out her hand, he touched it, and she vanished in a brilliant flash of light. Jared crept from the room, just another servant among many in the castle, but soon word spread that the Lady had vanished from Astoria.

Briane was riding along, minding her own business, when suddenly her unicorn seemed to go mad. He squealed in very joy, reared in ecstasy, and then bowed himself to the ground, flinging his rider from her saddle in the interim. Brie rolled onto her knees, but got no further, sensing a Presence that bid her remain thus. A shudder of joy and dread ran through her, knowing she was in the presence of the Master Himself.

The Great Unicorn nuzzled her gently on the cheek and said, "rise child, I have called you to lead my servants."

Briane gaped, "me?!"

He chuckled, "and none other."

She dared raise her eyes to His, finding only joy and wisdom and love therein, rather than a blinding radiance, said she, "what has come of my brother?"

He said quietly, "you will be reunited very soon." He paused, amusement tingeing His voice, "but you will not receive all the answers you desire. Do not be too angry with him, for this is My doing and not his. He can only reveal so much." His voice grew cautious, "remember what comes of seeking after that which is forbidden you."

She bowed her head in shame and he nuzzled her gently, "easy child, I do not chastise but merely warn that there are some things you cannot yet know and others for which the world is not ready. He will have secrets and you must allow him to keep them and trust that I will reveal them when and as I will."

She looked up, wonder and astonishment in her eyes, but He was gone. Her unicorn whickered eagerly and they were immediately on their way back to Astoria.

Shadow:

An excited whicker drew Baye's attention back to the present. It had been nearly eighty years since Jace had vanished and he had been musing on when and if the boy would return, wondering what the lad would think to find his sister the new Lady of Astoria. Baye's smile deepened as the source of the sound burst out of the vibrant spring growth that engulfed the forest around them. Jace's unicorn stood before them, dancing and snorting in excitement, urging them both to follow. Baye immediately assented and the two unicorns took off with all their native speed. A few moments later, they were standing on the far edge of a clearing, gazing down into a deep but narrow gully at the base of a great tree.

Baye eyed the unicorn amusedly, "you want me to climb down there."

The beast snorted the obvious answer, Baye shrugged, and began the descent. Lying amidst the ferns and moss, lay the remains of a human skeleton, half buried in the soft soil, gnawed by rodents and further weathered by wind and water, little remained but a gaping skull in which a rodent had once nested, a shattered rib cage, and a femur that bore an impressive callus testifying that it had once been broken.

Baye smiled eagerly, "so this is where you have been hiding yourself."

The unicorn whinnied excitedly from above as he laid a firm hand upon the crushed chest. Light engulfed the skeletal remains and immediately Jace lay on his back in the bottom of the gully staring up at Baye in pure joy. He took the offered hand and was soon on his feet. He gazed at his onetime mentor and said, "that was dreadful."

Baye clapped him on the back and said, "it always is, but there is no way around it if you want to become a full Shadow."

Jace grinned sheepishly, "I did not say it was not worthwhile, I just said it was unpleasant."

Baye laughed, "it is good to have you back lad, I have missed you."

Jace frowned, "it could not have been more than a few days, a month at most."

Baye said soberly, "nay lad, it has been eighty years."

Jace gaped, "eighty years!"

Baye nodded and urged the lad to climb out of the ditch, wishing to continue their conversation in a more sensible location. As the boy climbed, Baye continued, "Adan was gone for eight years and Hawk for twenty three, but now we are again at our full strength." Baye climbed up himself and paused while the lad exchanged greetings with his unicorn. Continued he once the pair had quieted, "your mother died nearly thirty years ago." He grimaced, "I explained to her as best I could and she seemed to understand, or was at least content to know you'd meet again one day beyond time."

Jace nodded sadly, "thank you, I know it could not have been easy." He grinned impishly, "how has Briane taken it?"

Baye tried to hide his smile, "exactly as you would expect; she is also the new Lady of Astoria."

Jace nearly fell back into the ditch as he exclaimed, "what?!"

Baye laughed, "that's about how I thought you would take it, come on, we aren't far from Astoria and you can see for yourself." They mounted up and were soon on their way, Jace still reeling from all the revelations in the last few minutes. Baye gave him some time to absorb what had already been revealed before continuing, "there are a few things you need to know about your new position."

Jace eyed him keenly, "I am no longer considered an apprentice then?"

Baye shook his head, "neither of the Brethren nor of the Shadow, you are a full member of both now lad." He grinned, "even if it means doing exactly as your sister tells you." Jace rolled his eyes but Baye continued, "you once saw me rid the world of the carcass of a dead lurker; you can now do the same. You can use the light within yourself to move, change, or destroy certain objects. You will also find walls and other physical barriers no obstacle now, just will yourself through them and you can pass like sunshine through an open window. You can also hide from casual sight if you so wish. Obviously you'll need to practice these new skills but they will be quite useful now that you must venture forth alone."

Jace grinned, "can they hide me indefinitely from my sister?"

Baye laughed, "I am afraid not lad."

Jace sobered, a thoughtful look in his eyes, said he, "what happened? I thought death and mortality were behind me. I thought our Master's light could never be quenched."

Baye nodded, "they are now truly behind you, but you had things to learn which you couldn't while imbued with our Master's power, thus it had to be taken away for a little while that you might learn thereby." He smiled grimly in remembrance, "it is an uncomfortable feeling to wake up and suddenly find yourself mortal again, to know you will die and death will have its way with you." He eyed the boy keenly, "it is what everyone outside the Shadow lives and experiences on a daily basis and it is vital that you remember it."

Jace shuddered, "it will be a lesson I never forget."

Baye nodded, a broad smile on his face, "excellent lad, but now it is time to face your sister."

Jace groaned, "this will likely be a lesson I never forget either." Baye grinned all the more and the boy frowned, "what is so funny?"

Baye chuckled, "you get to introduce the Shadow of the Unicorn to your sister, at least as much as she is allowed to know." Jace groaned all the more.

Jace saw a few faces he vaguely recognized amongst his comrades as they entered the city and rode towards the castle, but no one he once knew well. The city seemed unchanged, save perhaps a little more crowded and the outlying district was perhaps a little larger, but it was the same familiar Astoria. The guards on the castle gates let them pass unhindered, they gave a nod of greeting in passing but otherwise focused their attention on the small crowd waiting their turn to enter the castle proper. Jace dismounted as if it had been only yesterday that he had stood thus, but to his sensibilities it very nearly had been. Jared was there to meet them, smiling widely and wearing a new face, but otherwise the same old Jared, said he quite properly, "you would like to see the Lady?"

Baye nodded, "we would indeed."

Jared nodded, "I will see to it at her earliest convenience." Said he in an undertone, "welcome back lad!" Then he hastened off to see to the fulfillment of his promise.

As they waited his return, Baye said quietly, "I will accompany you but I think she will wish to speak with you alone."

Jace nodded and then sighed in resignation before grinning impishly, "it cannot be worse than what I just went through."

Baye nodded, "that's the spirit lad, she can't kill you, at least not permanently."

Jace sobered at the thought but grinned when he saw Baye's own smile, said he, shaking his head, "you are no help at all."

Baye shrugged, "that is the thanks I get for teaching you everything I know?"

Jace snorted, "is that why my apprenticeship was so short?"

Baye raised an eyebrow quizzically but Jared's return interrupted his witty repartee, said he, "she will see you immediately." He added quietly, "and I am not sure if she is more eager or furious." He grinned and returned to his accustomed place near the gate, leaving the pair to find their own way to the Lady's usual chambers.

They bowed themselves in quite appropriately and the Lady immediately dismissed Baye before he could say anything. He gaped in surprise but hastily made his bows and departed. Once the door was shut and Jace was alone with his sister, they continued to study one another intensely. Said she at last, "you have not changed in the least!"

Jace shook his head, "and I won't, not unless I wish to or must."

She frowned at him, "where have you been all this time? And then to just waltz back in as if nothing has happened?"

He smiled at her, with that grin she found so infuriating, said he, "to me it has been barely a week."

She gaped openly at him, "a week! It has been eighty years! Our mother died of old age and I am the Lady of Astoria!" She smiled ruefully, "if you can believe it, I still don't." She left her great chair and began pacing before the window, her hands clasped at the small of her back. Then she turned her keen eyes upon him, "I need to know what is going on Jace, with you and Adan and Baye."

Jace nodded, "you had best include Hawk and Scamp on your list." He smiled, "and Jared."

She looked up in astonishment, "that servant that tried to kill you when you were comatose? Didn't he get himself killed in the process?"

Jace smiled at the memory, said he, "oh, he did get himself killed. We all have, on more than one occasion."

She gaped at him anew, "you had best start at the beginning." She resumed her seat and stared at him, a brief pained look flashed across her face but she soon schooled her features to neutrality, said she, "I thought you long dead, but the Master Himself said you would come and that you would tell me strange things but that I must not seek too much information." She smiled ruefully, "as I once might have done." Continued she, pain and joy in her voice, "I thought never to see you again and here you are, walking in as if you haven't been gone for nearly a century! And now I'm the Lady and we can't be just brother and sister anymore."

Jace nodded, "I know, that was part of the reason for my disappearance: to sever all ties with that which had gone before. I will always love you Brie, but things cannot be as they were."

She bowed her head in sad acceptance of facts to which she had already resigned herself, said she, "what is it you have embroiled yourself in?"

A sudden thought occurred to him and he thought to practice one of the new skills Baye had broached. He thought intently and suddenly there came a flash of light and two aged volumes rested in his hands. Brie gaped anew, which was becoming a bad habit this day. He handed the books to her and said, "this is where it all began. Read the stories and they will give you some idea of what this is all about. I will tell you what I can, but it will never satisfy you."

She sighed mournfully, "I know," but she eyed the books eagerly.

It was his turn to pace, said he as he walked up and down, "it is called the Shadow of the Unicorn, my Lady, for we are very servants of the Master yet must live and act in secret, our existence known to none but you and ourselves. We possess various skills and traits that enable us to successfully accomplish missions that even the best of the Messengers cannot hope to survive, but the price of our service is that we must live apart from other men, even our Brothers and comrades though we serve the same Master."

Brie asked incredulously, "you cannot marry?" Jace shook his head. The Lady shook her own and rolled her eyes, "no wonder my love life was such a disaster! Every man I ever fell for was destined for such a life." She smiled grimly, "but then the Lady of Astoria rarely marries, so I suppose things have worked out for the best." She motioned for him to continue.

Jace obliged her, "while you may assign us tasks to accomplish, the most dire and dangerous known amongst the Brethren, we also receive our orders from Jared or even the Master Himself. We may seem defiant or mysterious at times, but can never betray or disrespect you, Lady. But there are some things to which you will never be privy."

"That's it?" asked she as Jace quit his pacing and stood calmly before her.

He shrugged sheepishly, as if they were still Students together, "that is all I may convey at the moment."

She sighed and nodded, "quite fascinating, really," her smile grew impish and for a moment she was a simple girl again, "I may have to find you some such horrid mission just to see what you can accomplish?"

Jace bowed deeply, "you have but to speak my Lady."

She frowned, "what really happened with those that kidnapped me? Baye said you survived the mission but I begin to think otherwise."

Jace grinned proudly, "there is still no hiding anything from you, little sister." She flashed him an annoyed glance but let the remark pass, as they were alone. Continued he, highly amused, "you are correct, though Baye technically told the truth. You were captured by minions of a practitioner of blood magic and they needed your blood, or ours, they did not care which as long as it was one of the Brethren, to complete their fell rites, though due to our curious nature, our blood had the opposite effect to that which they had intended. Needless to say, it was not pleasant but everything worked out for the best."

She frowned, "you are telling me you can survive death?"

He bowed, "it is not so much surviving as waking up." She sat back in her chair, her thoughtful smile enough to send a chill down Jace's spine. She gave him a bland look but could not hide the eagerness in her eyes, which boded ill for Jace and his compatriots. Before dismissing him, she asked thoughtfully, "I suppose it would be foolish to try apprenticing anyone with you?"

Jace shivered, "aye Lady, just ask Hawk how he fared under such an arrangement; it was not pretty."

She nodded as he made his bows and withdrew, strangely relieved that the interview had gone so well. Baye met him without and asked with a grin, "you survived?"

Jace laughed, "don't look so surprised. Now what do I do as I no longer have a mentor to order me about every waking moment?"

Baye smiled, "what any of the Brethren do between assignments: brush up on our skills and knowledge, teach, catch up with old friends, rest..."

Jace nodded, "rest? Now there's an idea!"

Baye laughed, "after what you have been through of late, I would think that would be a good idea." He sobered, "it is not of physical rest that I speak lad, at least not in your case."

The boy nodded, knowing his friend spoke wisely. He asked brightly, "who, besides yourself and Jared, is still running about the keep?"

Baye said thoughtfully, "Hawk is the new swordmaster, well relatively new I should say, as he's been at it the last forty years or so. The others are out on assignment."

Jace nodded, "what is it we actually do? How often do we actually have an assignment?"

They settled on a bench under a spreading elm upon the great, walled-in lawn, as Baye replied with a smile, "you really have no idea what a 'typical' assignment is for the Shadow, do you? Or even for one of the Brethren! Your whole career has been one impossible scenario after another, but perhaps things will settle down for a time and you can figure out what 'normal' is, if there is such a thing in our profession. Most often we are chasing down one member of the Brotherhood or another or investigating the disappearance of one of our colleagues. Sometimes the Lady finds us some impossible political situation to rectify or a mission of dire urgency that needs our attention. It never gets dull, that is for certain."

Jace suddenly changed the subject, "how long has my sister been Lady of Astoria?"

Baye grinned, "about a week."

Jace gaped and then laughed proudly, "she will do well then."

Baye nodded, "they always do, the Master never chooses ill." He stood then, studying the boy intently, a proud light in his eyes, "I will find you later and we can catch up, but I have a prior engagement; I think you would benefit from a chat with our new swordmaster."

Jace grinned, "is that an order?"

Baye laughed, "nay lad, only a suggestion. But I suppose I can still order you about, as you are the youngest and least experienced of the Shadow."

Jace frowned as he stood, "but I thought I was recruited before Adan and certainly before Hawk."

Baye smiled, "you forget that you've been gone a very long time and they've been through a lot in the interim. You are barely out of your apprenticeship."

Jace stood with a sigh, "I suppose you are right."

Baye clapped him on the shoulder, "easy lad, these things matter little in the grand scheme of things. Give it a few centuries and it won't matter at all."

As this realization sunk in, Jace exclaimed, "a few centuries! I cannot even fathom one!"

Baye grinned, "aye lad, one day you will, one day you will." He nodded in farewell and vanished out the door, Jace following slowly after, as this great revelation of just how long he might endure in such a service sank in. Baye headed for the city but Jace made his way to the weapons yard, hoping to find Hawk.

The Students were just putting away their practice swords when Jace entered the yard, eagerly studying his old friend from a distance; Hawk had not yet noticed his presence as he was quietly explaining something to one of the departing Students. He must have felt keen eyes upon him, for he looked up and nearly jumped in surprise but managed to restrain his reaction to a slight smile and the merest nod of his head. The last of the Students hastened off to lunch as Hawk drew his own sword, Jace automatically doing likewise as he approached the swordmaster.

Hawk set himself in a defensive stance and said with a grin, "so you've returned at last."

Jace shrugged, setting himself as they launched into a sparring match, "to me it has only been a few days." He shivered as he blocked Hawk's blade and then struck out with his own, "a dreadful few days at that."

Hawk smiled grimly in remembrance, saying ruefully, "my own journey was far from pleasant, but the incident prior to my recruitment was far worse."

Jace nodded in understanding, thrusting at his faux foe, "I wondered how you recovered from such a trial?"

Hawk shivered, "I thought it all a horrid dream, everything from killing Scamp to ending up inexplicably in the dungeons of Astoria an hour later when we had been somewhere in the far south of the world. I was too shocked and dazed to think it all through, but even the briefest recollection of what it was I had done was enough to drive me mad with guilt and despair, thankfully Scamp came to see me not long after you left. He tried to explain as best he could, which is difficult considering the secretive nature of the Shadow and my own overwrought sensibilities, but just knowing that he was alive worked wonders upon me. He left me then to my reading, to which I could attend at last with a somewhat sound mind. I was somewhere in the middle of the second volume when the Light came." He smiled broadly in remembrance, "and after, nothing else mattered."

Jace lunged in suddenly with his sword, asking, "how is it you became swordmaster?" He grinned impishly, "how did my sister take the news that you had abandoned her as easily as Adan had?"

Hawk's smile grew dangerous as he parried Jace and countered with his own stroke, said he, "she was out on assignment at the time and we did not see each other again for over two years, by then she had lost all interest in men and was solely focused on her duty." He grinned, "I suppose it helped immensely that I did not pay her court as intently as I once had done. No doubt she took it as an insult and decided she was not to be trifled with. That and I mysteriously vanished for some years shortly thereafter." Jace laughed his agreement as Hawk continued, "as to this assignment, I understand it is traditionally held by one of us, though there were a few years where another held the position until I was counted old and experienced enough."

Jace frowned in thought, "why would the swordmaster need to be of the Shadow?"

Hawk said in triumph, as he scored Jace's shoulder with his blade, "who better to keep an eye on the up and coming Students? Jared sees all who enter the castle, as I see those intent on gaining skill with a blade."

Jace nodded, grunted in pain as Hawk struck, and then replied with his own counterstroke, "it makes sense. So you two ward the keep while the rest of us protect the world?"

Hawk replied, easily blocking the blow, "actually we do a fairly good job of protecting the world without leaving the keep, for there is much that happens in Astoria that has worldwide repercussions."

Jace nodded, striking again, "now that I think about it, you are right. How many kings come here for counsel or send their children to learn? How many of your current students will one day be leaders, advisors, or warriors scattered all over the known world?" He smiled eagerly, "an influential position indeed!" He laughed merrily, "you have no need of the rest of us at all."

Hawk grunted as Jace's blade nicked his arm, said he, "don't be ridiculous, your missions are just as important as our own, though perhaps far less visible to the casual observer."

As one, they sheathed their blades and withdrew to a quiet bench alongside the wall, grinned Hawk, "not a bad match, you're not a bit rusty."

Jace smiled proudly, "and you've come a long way with your own skills."

Hawk nodded, "just wait until I have been at it for a few more centuries." He winked, "I might even rival you one day?"

Jace asked soberly, "can you even comprehend the idea of centuries?"

Hawk smiled wryly, "you've had, what? Twenty years of conscious life, at most?" Jace nodded as Hawk continued, "the years pass quickly and are not as overwhelming as they seem at the first." He said gravely, "and you can Go at anytime, remember."

Jace shivered, "after all I've been through, I'd like to give it a try first."

Hawk smiled, "and I have no doubt you'll choose to remain in this service for a very long time."

Jace's brow furrowed, "how long can we serve the Shadow?"

Hawk said quietly, "until the end of Time, if that is your wish."

A sudden intensity glowed in Jace's eyes as he whispered, "I could watch all of history unfold?" Hawk nodded and Jace grinned eagerly. Changing the subject, he asked excitedly, "Baye mentioned a few new skills I now possess but need to practice, do you have time to help me?"

Hawk grinned, "I would love to but the midday meal is almost over and I have a class." He winked, "besides, a kid of your talents should be able to figure most of it out on your own."

Jace frowned, "kid?"

Hawk smiled but could say no more as a flurry of excited Students descended upon the practice yard and ended all conversation. Jace shook his head, smiled a farewell, and withdrew to the keep.

"You look lost," said a familiar voice.

Jace looked up with a smile and said to Jared, "lost in thought perhaps, I have much to think about."

Jared smiled in understanding, "it is overwhelming at first, but you'll acclimate quickly. A little down time is just what you need." He shivered, "you've been through a lot of late, at least in your own reckoning. Why not go for a ride and sort out your thoughts?"

Jace nodded his thanks and asked as he turned to go, "how have you handled it, these centuries of service? I am finding the thought a little intimidating."

Jared laughed, "one day at a time lad, one day at a time, and before you know it, it will have been a thousand years or more! Off with you, and don't get all gloomy and overwhelmed, there is no need for such in our Master's service." Jace smiled slightly at this and vanished in the direction of the stable. His unicorn was already waiting, eager to be off, wanting to spend some time alone with his long sundered master. Jace poured out his heart to the beast, his questions and concern, hopes and aspirations, and received some sound advice and no little encouragement in return. They stopped in the late afternoon, Jace little heeding whither their path had led until an unwelcome sight loomed before him.

He frowned at his companion and the unicorn whickered in amusement, as always, his sensible advice overriding his master's annoyance. Jace needed to practice a few necessary skills and this was the ideal place to do so, as they were unlikely to be disturbed and he needed somewhere with walls. He entered the crumbling ruin that had once been his home, giving his unicorn a rueful but grateful look, at which the stallion whinnied his approbation. His first few attempts to walk through a wall were disastrous, at least to his pride, but certainly amused the unicorn. At last he mastered the technique and moved on to the rather simple skill of vanishing from casual sight, but when he turned to see the unicorn's reaction, the beast too had vanished. He grinned and shifted, allowing himself to again become visible, at which the unicorn also reappeared and they shared a good laugh.

The final skill he wished to practice was something altogether different. He had seen Baye exhibit it on one occasion, had conjured a couple books for the Lady, and even managed to move Hawk and himself halfway across the continent, but it had been done through him, not of his own volition. If he could master this skill, he was overawed at what it might mean, for this was the Master's own power: the ability to manipulate matter, space, and time.

Just then a little bird lit on an overhead branch and drew the boy's full attention, chirruped He, "there is a reason this particular skill is not granted to mortal men. Only one who has traversed from death into true life can be trusted with it, for you can no longer act outside My will. I may choose to use it on occasion with those not so bound, but it is at My discretion, not theirs. Learn well child and use it in My service." With a flash of white wings, He was gone.

Jace rose from his knees, a thoughtful look on his face. No matter how wondrous, it was not this particular skill that consumed his thoughts at the moment; it was the concept that he was beyond mortality, beyond human failings, beyond petty sins, and he knew with all his heart that he could not, did not want to, act outside his Master's will. He bowed his head in silent thanks and reverence. He stood then, intending to get on with what they had come for, but Baye stood before him in the growing gloom of evening, a knowing smile on his face.

Said he, "that last skill will take a bit of work to master lad, I'll be happy to show you a few tricks, but right now we had best get back to the keep, like sensible folk who go indoors after dark."

Jace grinned, having already forgotten what it was to be unable to see in the dark. Said he, "very well, I shall try and be sensible for once in my life. Lead on! But I make no promises that I shall ever be so again." They returned to the keep just in time for the evening meal and sat down in a forgotten corner for some long overdue and much needed conversation.

As the night wore on, Baye said with a slight smile, "you should probably go to bed lad."

Jace looked up in surprise, "but I thought we no longer needed sleep."

Baye grinned, "physically, no, but that does not mean we cannot benefit from it, especially when we have been through so much in so short a time. Your mind will thank me in the morning, now off with you. That and people might begin to notice if we avoid eating and sleeping on a regular basis."

The boy smiled tiredly and began to wander off, but then stopped and looked concernedly over his shoulder, "but I have not been assigned a room."

Baye shook his head, "you can bunk with me, now get you gone!" Feeling an apprentice once more, the boy hied himself off as bidden, but he was rather grateful to Baye in the morning. While not physically requiring a night's rest, it was just the thing to settle and refresh his overwrought mind.

He awoke to find Baye just rising from the other bed, said Jace with a grin, "it is good to see that you take your own advice."

Baye nodded with a slight smile, "I, like you, try to be sensible on occasion." They shared a laugh and then made ready for the day.

As they traipsed down to breakfast, Jace asked, "how long do you expect to remain in Astoria?"

Baye said with a smile, "not long, the longest I have ever lingered was that time I picked up a rather unruly apprentice."

Jace laughed, "come now, Adan was not half so bad."

"As his predecessor, no!" said Baye with a chuckle. Continued he in a more sober mien, "I'll likely be gone in a day or two, but you may be here for awhile, until you've adjusted to your new life and recovered from your journey. Why don't we practice a certain new skill while the morning lasts, then I have another rendezvous."

Jace perked up at this last, as Baye's voice became rather reluctant when mentioning his other project and almost embarrassed, said the irrepressible youth, "what is this mysterious duty? Is it the same that parted us yesterday?"

Baye said grudgingly, "yes and never you mind what it is. It is something the Lady suggested and I could hardly refuse her."

Jace decided he might take a page from Briane's modus operandi and try to covertly discover what it was that Baye was so desperately trying to hide. So he readily agreed to Baye's proposal and immediately dropped all apparent interest in his other project, which immediately aroused Baye's suspicions, but not wanting to draw any more attention to the matter, he led the way into the dining hall. After breakfast, they rode out to that crumbling fortress and began in earnest.

"Now," said Baye, as he stood beside a fallen piece of stonework, "if you can imagine it, you can probably accomplish it with this particular skill, assuming it is within our Master's will, which it will be if you can dream it up."

Jace asked, "does this mean I no longer have a will of my own?"

Baye laughed, "do not be ridiculous, you are as much yourself as you have ever been, actually more so, as you are what the Master designed you to be, but as you have now passed forever beyond the confines of time and death, your sinful nature is forever lost, thus our thoughts and desires naturally coincide with the Master's."

Jace nodded, a thoughtful frown on his face, "you are saying I can no longer unwittingly defy our Master? It must be consciously done and I assume has grave consequences?"

Baye nodded, "that is precisely what I am saying, you can of course cast all this aside and go your own way, but the moment you willingly withdraw from the Master's keeping, you throw yourself willingly into the Abyss."

Jace shivered, "just like Jay, save he found redemption whereas I would be utterly condemned." He grinned, "certainly not worth it!"

Baye smiled slightly, "what did you expect after all you have endured, that you would remain faithful through all of that and then abandon it all on a whim? That is why there are so many checks, trials, and tests in joining the Shadow, that none may make it this far without being completely confident in their decision and our Master. Now back to the lesson."

They spent the balance of the morning moving that particular piece of stonework about the ruin, banishing it utterly and then recalling it, changing its shape or color, and any other strange and wonderful exercise Baye could contrive to introduce his former apprentice to this new skill.

As they finished and Baye had to leave for his mysterious rendezvous, Jace thanked him for his efforts and impishly wished him well in his future endeavor. Baye gave him a patient look but as the lad seemed content to remain and practice a bit longer, did not give it a second thought as he mounted and rode away. The moment they were out of sight, Jace summoned his own mount and followed swiftly after, both cloaked in invisibility. As a precaution, Jace asked Baye's mount not to reveal their presence. The beast replied that he could not overtly lie to his master, but if Baye did not ask, he did not necessarily have to tell him. There was a vast deal of amusement in the reply, which made both Jace and his unicorn grin.

As they rode back to the city, Jace contemplated how useful this new skillset would be on his upcoming missions; he would make the perfect spy, secret agent, and detective. His unicorn snorted the obvious, it was for this that he had been recruited and thus equipped. He smiled wryly at his own oversight as they silently shadowed Baye. People jostled unknowingly against them in the midday crowds but didn't seem to notice, as there were people and animals pressing in from all sides. Baye vanished into a seedy tavern rather than continuing on to the keep, which startled Jace no end, as the Brethren were not known for frequenting drinking establishments, save in rural areas where they served as the main communal gathering places. Avoiding the hustle and bustle of the doorway, Jace opted to practice ghosting through the wall.

Baye had placed himself at a table near the back, an untouched mug of some tepid brew before him; he glanced expectantly at the door, as if waiting for someone. Said he to the air, "if you insist on being present for this interview, at least come in the front like a civilized person, and in a visible manner." Jace gaped but hastily did as instructed, pulling up a stool across from his grinning friend.

Said he in amazement, "how did you know? Can you somehow sense my presence?"

Baye shook his head with a grin, "nay lad, but I know you well enough, and know you and your sister are enough alike, that I had no doubt you would follow when I refused to be more explicit, that and I asked my unicorn if we were being tailed. His vague reply confirmed my suspicions. I must say, you've mastered those particular skills at least."

Jace smiled ruefully, "so what exactly are you doing here and why wouldn't you tell me outright?"

Baye replied, "I am not exactly sure what it is I am doing here. The Lady asked that I meet with a certain mysterious personage who had many questions about Astoria and the Brethren. I came yesterday and met a cloaked individual, a very young man by his voice, who asked any number of questions and then vanished just as suddenly, agreeing to meet again today." He glanced about at the nearly empty inn, continuing, "as you can see, this place isn't exactly crowded, so it is an ideal place to meet if one does not wish to be seen. As to why I didn't mention it, this person is rather secretive so I thought it rude to betray his secrets." He shook his head, "not that you couldn't ferret them out on your own."

He said no more as a furtive figure ducked into the inn, his hesitant movements certain to draw the attention he so wished to avoid; he glanced at the stranger and nearly fled, but some draw stronger than fear bade his feet approach the table. Baye greeted him calmly and said, "this is my former apprentice; he may be able to answer some of your many questions or give you a perspective closer to that of a man your own age on the matter, but I can certainly ask him to leave if you would prefer."

The cloaked figure flinched at having his apparent age and gender discovered but seemed to study Jace intently from within the depths of his hood. At last he nodded, seated himself, and said, "very well, I should be able to trust another of the Brethren with this. Yesterday I asked you much of life in Astoria and the Brethren in general. I have a decision to make, one that may have grave repercussions to more than just myself, and I would have your advice on how to proceed."

He paused to allow his words to sink in and then began gravely, "the reason for my secrecy is that there are those that would seize me in a moment were it known what it is I intend. For I am the crown prince of a certain nation, albeit the King is a mere figurehead at the mercy of his strongest and most ruthless lords, but nonetheless, I am due to inherit the crown, a day I am loath to see. These same lords already think me well and truly under their sway and any transition in the kingship a mere formality. The truth is, I can do nothing to resist them in my own turn as my father in his. I wish to escape it all and join up with the Brethren so that I might perhaps do some good in this world, rather than spend my life a mere puppet upon the throne. I am content with my decision on a personal level, but that is not the only consideration. What of my people, my country, my father? What will come of them if I do as I intend? Thus, is my desire wholly selfish and therefore wrong?"

Baye asked thoughtfully, "have you any siblings who could then inherit the throne?"

The boy shook his head, "I am the only child and if something happened to me, undoubtedly one of the sons of said lords would try to assume the throne and ignite a civil war, or perhaps they would just find some other puppet through whom to reign." He sighed heavily, "though I cannot see that war would be much of a change for the worse, as conditions currently exist in my homeland."

Baye shook his head grimly, "you must bring your case to the Lady herself, I can give you no sound judgment, but can only counsel you to make no decision in fear or haste."

The boy nodded glumly but said hopefully, "would you obtain such an audience for me?"

Baye smiled, "why don't you come back to the castle with us and we shall discuss the matter with her at her earliest convenience." The boy stood and followed them from the inn, hoping they looked far from conspicuous.

Said the Lady after the situation was briefly explained to her, "Baye, I sent you to answer questions, not provoke more." She frowned thoughtfully, "what is the right course of action in this situation? I cannot accept the Oath of a parent with a dependent child, how much less can I do so from the only child and heir to a throne, the only one standing between a nation and civil war? Unless you can find a way to smooth out the succession, I am afraid I cannot accept your Oath."

Jace said something quietly to Baye, who gave him an astonished look but then frowned thoughtfully as he nodded. He turned to the Lady and asked, "might we have a word alone, my Lady?"

"Certainly," said she as she stood and withdrew to a small side chamber with her servants, leaving the distraught prince to mull over this grim pronunciation. Said she, "you have an idea?"

Baye eyed Jace skeptically, "it is insane, my Lady, but it just might work. We must do something to help this country, regardless of what happens with the Prince's intended Oath or not. From what he has said, he thinks war little worse than the tyrannical rule of these despots. We could send someone in the Prince's stead, a look alike as it were, and then we could see if we could somehow restore justice to this oppressed King and his people."

She looked at him aghast, "and just where do you propose finding said twin and be certain he is a man who could accomplish all you say?"

Baye smiled hugely and said, "perhaps your brother did not tell you everything pertaining to the Shadow?"

She gasped as the Prince suddenly stood before her where Baye had once been. She schooled her features to neutrality and glowered at her brother, who shrugged and grinned sheepishly in reply. Said she, "I suppose I can honor the boy's request then, assuming you can find someone else to be heir to the throne and ensure a smooth transition. Go forth and root out these nefarious usurpers and save a realm from civil war." She smiled grimly, "sounds like something perfectly suited to this Shadow of yours." Baye bowed his head in acceptance of the mission and smiled in response to her last comment. She shook her head, "now I'll have to go back and eat my words, afterwards, interview the boy as you must." She turned grim eyes upon Jace, "make sure he knows what he is getting himself into and also ward him against any who might think to take advantage of the situation. Someone might already have noticed he has vanished from his homeland."

They returned to the main audience chamber and the Lady said to the glum Prince, "I have reconsidered your position and perhaps you can have your wish and we may even save your country in the process. I will send one in your stead who will try and right the wrongs afflicting your country at present, you will give him your full cooperation, and then we shall discuss your Oath."

He nearly glowed with joy, bowed deeply, and said, "I am at your service Lady." She then dismissed them and they withdrew to a small side chamber to discuss matters.

Said Baye, "is anyone likely to notice your absence?"

The prince smiled grimly, "it is unlikely, I am of no import save as a tool in the event of a succession, but if anyone is curious, I am supposedly visiting my mother's kin in the adjacent Kingdom. Who is this you will send in my stead?"

Baye said, "I will go, but I will need to know everything you can tell me about yourself, your life, your country, and everyone in the Kingdom of any import."

The boy whistled, "that is a tall order."

"Perhaps," said Baye, "but I see no other choice, once I have exhausted you with questions, my former minion here has been assigned to keep you safe and make sure you truly want to go through with this." The boy nodded eagerly.

It was a long night for them all, but Baye felt comfortable in the role he would be playing and immediately dismissed the former Prince to bed. Said he to Jace, "would you mind helping me relocate?" Jace nodded and accompanied Baye to the stableyard where his unicorn waited. Once he was mounted and they had withdrawn to a dark corner of the lawn, Jace placed a firm hand on the creature's shoulder and the pair vanished in a flash. Yawning, Jace withdrew to find what sleep he could.

Morning found both the Prince and his erstwhile guard refreshed, said the latter, "feel like some breakfast, Highness?"

Prince Caire nodded eagerly, "certainly, and afterwards you will have your chance at me as your friend did last night." He sighed hopefully, "then perhaps the Lady will do as I so desperately wish."

Jace frowned, "you cannot wait for the next Oathtaking?"

Caire shook his head, "nay, lest some crony of my father's enemies hears of the matter and tries to take advantage of it."

Jace shook his head, "even so, I do not think your having taken the Oath will prevent such an occurrence."

"Perhaps not," said he in grim acceptance, "but it will put me at ease, even so. I will finally belong." He looked up hopefully, "I will have a place and a purpose at last. Can you understand that?"

Jace smiled sadly, "more than you know, let's go find something to eat and then discuss this at length."

Discuss it they did, and there was nothing the boy wanted more, had ever wanted more. So it was that Jace was forced to confront his sister with this inevitability. She looked at him in surprise, "he will not wait for the next Oathtaking?"

He smiled ruefully, "not if he can help it."

She shook her head grimly, "I suppose I have no reason to deny him, if he desires it so much and has willingly abandoned his birthright. Bring him too me." She caught his shoulder as he turned to go, said she in warning, "he is your responsibility whilst he remains in Astoria, ward him well." Jace bowed his acceptance and went to fetch Caire.

Less than an hour later, a jubilant Caire, now an official Apprentice of the Brethren, nearly skipped down the hall in his joy with Jace following silently after. He felt, as the Lady did, that all was not as happily concluded as the carefree renegade assumed. Someone had noticed the boy's flight and intended to use it for their own gain, though hopefully too late, as Baye was even now trying to settle matters in the lad's homeland. Jace spoke up at last to the buoyant apprentice, "I do not think it wise for you to leave the castle until we are sure this matter has been satisfactorily resolved."

Caire stared at him aghast, as if he were a worried old grandmother scolding her little one for not wearing a coat on a fine summer day just in case it might rain. Said he a bit perturbed, "what of my lessons?"

Jace smiled grimly, "only your riding lessons are held outside the city and I think you at least know how to sit a horse?"

Caire nodded in dejection, still not used to being ordered about, Prince that he had been. He sighed heavily, "I suppose I must abide by your advice, no matter how overprotective it might be."

Jace immediately put the boy in his place, "you are the one who slunk in terror to Astoria and begged to be allowed to take the Oath and that a way might be found to spare your Kingdom. You are a prince no longer and must abide by all that you have sworn. If you are having second thoughts, now is the time to recant and be on your way. As to being overprotective, I fear it is rather that you do not understand the gravity of the situation. You are not as unimportant and unobserved as you think yourself. Someone saw you flee and no doubt intends to use that to their own benefit. You are vulnerable the moment you set foot outside the castle and you are not to do so until I or the Lady give you explicit leave to do so. Am I understood?"

The boy gaped, never having had anyone treat him thus, even his father's tyrannical lords, though he had never dared even speak to such terrifying men, but to be put in his place by this peasant who could be little older than himself, came as quite a shock, but the more reasonable side of his personality won out, rebuking the feelings of wounded pride that threatened to burst forth in fury. Said he contritely, "I do apologize, this has been a trying time for me; my entire life has been one of fear and repression, only today am I truly free though I have bound myself thus."

Jace smiled warmly, "come, speak as you will upon the matter, you might be surprised at how well I can relate." The lad met his eyes, hope burning therein; they secluded themselves in a quiet nook and the former prince poured out his heart to an ear that understood as perhaps few others could.

Jace saw the lad ensconced at a table in the dining hall, a plate of food before him and a bevy of curious classmates about him, and then retreated to speak with the Lady. She stood before the window, gazing out at the sunset with the sleepy city beneath her, its lights twinkling like stars in the gathering dusk. She did not turn around as he was ushered in by a servant, but as soon as they were alone, he approached and stood beside her, leaning his elbows on the sill even as she did. Thus did they stand in silence, watching the sun vanish beyond the rim of the world and night sweep in as if the world donned a cloak, dark and begemmed. At last they turned from the darkness without to the cheery glow of candle and hearth within, said she quietly, "it is sometimes very lonely being the Lady of Astoria." She looked at him gratefully, unshed tears sparkling in the flickering light, "thank you for reminding me that I am not truly alone; that I am more than my title and position."

Jace bowed his head to hide his own tears and slight smile, knowing Brie would not understand, but under all her protestations of strength and independence, was a warm and passionate heart that felt deeply and loved fiercely. He said quietly, when he had mastered his own emotions, that she not hear the quaver in his voice, "I understand Brie, I completely understand."

She smiled in wry amusement, "I had not thought our positions so alike, but they are, in some ways at least. I am isolated from the rest of the Brethren by my title and you by your uncanny occupation; all former friends and acquaintance are lost to us, at least as they once were." She took a deep breath and asked, all business again, "what is it you came to speak with me about?"

Jace replied in like tones, "I have ordered your newest apprentice to remain within the confines of the castle until this matter has been finally settled; I wish to pursue these villains and bring matters to a close."

She nodded, "a good idea but how do you propose to draw them out."

Caire suddenly stood before her, grinning like only Jace could, said he, "bait of course."

She smiled slightly and nodded her assent, "very good, keep me apprised of the situation. What happens if they take you back to Umboria and discover another Prince is already there?"

Jace's grin was mischief itself, "then the story becomes all the more interesting." He bowed his farewells and left her presence, his heart heavy with the day's revelations. Long did he pace and pray that night upon the silent lawn under the stars, coming at last to peace with his past, his present, and whatever the future might hold.

In the morning, he bid farewell to the former prince and said, "I will pursue these villains and bring this matter to an end. Hopefully you and your Kingdom will be free of their tyranny soon enough."

Caire asked eagerly, "might I not accompany you? Could I not be of use?"

Jace shook his head, "nay lad, this is something I must do alone. It is best that you remain here and learn what you must so that you might prove the hero in your own turn. Farewell." Caire sighed heavily but nodded his acquiescence and disappeared in the direction of his first class. Certain that the lad was well and truly gone, Jace entered the stables to commence his transformation into the furtive prince. He donned a hooded cloak, the appropriate face, and a manner befitting one terrified of his own shadow. He emerged an hour later, slunk out the castle gates, and vanished into the city.

He wasn't quite sure what to do after that, what would the disgraced prince do if his hopes of finding help in Astoria were dashed? Return home and hope no one had noticed his absence or sneak off into obscurity, never more to be seen? But he need not have worried, for those awaiting just such an emergence were not lax in their vigil. Jace had wandered into a less frequented portion of the city and hid himself in a quiet alley as he pondered what next was to be done, but all he would soon contemplate was the darkness as a heavy blow from behind rendered him senseless.

He awoke to find the world still dark and far more stuffy than he remembered. A pulse of light flared within him, clearing his addled mind and allowing him to think straight. He smiled ruefully, knowing none would see with a sack over his head. He lay on his side, his hands and feet bound, while the jolting and swaying of his person testified to his position in the back of a wagon or carriage. His mind sought that of his unicorn and the creature happily testified as to his current situation and location as the stallion shadowed the company at a safe distance. There were five men in the party, four burly ruffians and one stately figure who had not yet deigned to get his hands dirty. The seeming noble traveled in a nondescript carriage while his minions rode as escort and drove the vehicle; Jace was secured somewhere within the carriage, perhaps in a secret compartment to prevent inadvertent discovery during any sort of inspection by a patrol or the gate guards until they were well clear of Astoria.

The day passed interminably and uncomfortably, trussed up and confined as he was, but at least he had plenty to think about. At last the carriage rattled to a stop and the sounds of men and horses filled the air as the party settled itself for the night. At last he was drug from his erstwhile prison and the smothering mask removed. He did his best to look terrified and confused, simply having to remember how he felt the moment he had wandered unwittingly into a bandit camp on that last fateful night of his journey. The ruffians set him ungently on a fallen log and returned to their duties while the noble gentleman settled across from him to study and sneer.

Said he in gloating triumph, "so you thought you could get away little prince, or perhaps sought help or sanctuary from the Brethren? But I assure you, that is not possible. You will assume the throne in your turn, sit quietly upon it as your father does, and do exactly as you are told. It is not a terrible life, just consider yourself a servant with a rather cushy job and all will be well; if you defy us again, things will go ill for you I fear. Now must we carry you all the way back to Umboria trussed like a goat for slaughter or will you cooperate that we might travel as befits your royal status?"

Jace grated, "I will not try to escape or make a fuss before strangers."

"Very well," said the satisfied nobleman, "be a good little boy and I may spare your life." He nodded curtly to one of the ruffians who then cut the boy's bonds. Continued he, as if speaking to a rather recalcitrant child, "this pathetic show of courage does nothing to help your case, but perhaps it has convinced you of how futile is any hope of rescue? It seems even the Brethren will not meddle in this affair, fervent champions of hopeless causes that they are. What does that tell you about your case?"

Jace said wryly, "it would appear quite hopeless."

The man nodded, "and has it taught you the folly of defying us?"

Jace sighed heavily, "it seems that I am completely at your mercy."

"Very good," said the man, "you will accompany us without trouble, without speaking, and without acting in anything unless instructed to do so, am I understood?" Jace nodded and he continued, "you will resume your place when we get back to Umboria as if nothing has happened and you will do exactly as you are told by those who hold the true power." Jace sighed heavily and this seemed answer enough to satisfy the man.

He was fed, whatever nameless stew the minions prepared for themselves and their noble master, and then tucked in to sleep in the middle of the camp. In the morning, he was hustled into the carriage, thankfully unbound, but forced to sit across from the grim nobleman who paid him no heed, save to sneer triumphantly from time to time. In the evening they stopped at an inn where he was given a simple supper and sent immediately to bed. So it followed day after day, camping if no inn was convenient, but otherwise there was no variation in their schedule. Jace silently wondered what Umboria and its residents would think if they arrived back in the country to find Baye already there, also in the guise of Prince Caire.

His musings were cut short as his unicorn alerted him to armed men without, nearly a dozen horsemen with swords at the ready, a richly clad and dangerous looking man at their head. The party stood little chance against so many foes and Jace did not feel inclined to interfere. It was soon over, the ruffians were easily dispatched and the two occupants of the carriage were drug out into the road and made to kneel before the leader of the raid. The nobleman gaped, "Farns! You have some nerve!"

Farns scoffed, "I have nerve? You are the one solely in possession of our renegade prince. Hoping to use him for your own purposes no doubt! That I cannot allow."

"We had a bargain!" wailed the nobleman in desperation.

Farns snorted, "a bargain which you nullified in pursuing this renegade alone! You should have brought the matter to the rest of us. Now you have both become a liability."

The agonized gentleman begged, "but the boy must be returned to Umboria or chaos will ensue."

Farns shook his head, "we will think of something, we always do, but to act this way! It reeks of defiance and treachery, neither of you can be trusted any longer. Farewell." He nodded once to the captain of his men, who drew his sword and approached the kneeling pair upon the road.

The unnamed nobleman died pleading for mercy and understanding, though he had never bestowed it upon another living soul in his life. As the soldier raised his sword to strike down the last captive, Farns motioned for him to stay his blade, at least momentarily. He eyed the faux prince curiously, "you do not cry out for mercy or wail like an aggrieved old woman?"

Jace shrugged, "death comes upon us all, what have I to fear?"

Farns smiled slightly, "perhaps you have more spirit than many have given you credit, sire, a pity that, as it is a poor trait in a figurehead." He nodded and the guard struck true. They made the incident look like a bandit raid and rode silently off into the growing twilight, back to Umboria and the mess that the prince's disappearance had no doubt created. At least there were now only two men to share power rather than three.

A unicorn stepped out of the mist and nuzzled the murdered prince gently, a pulse of light passing from one to the other. Jace groaned and sat up, smiling gratefully at his old friend. He gained his feet, glanced sadly at the carnage Farns and his men had wrought, and then climbed into his saddle, in silent pursuit.

The company had secreted themselves for the night in a forested dell, cloaked in mist and darkness. The apparition arrived in the darkest watch of the night, the sentries drew back in terror, too frightened to raise the alarm as something ghosted into the hidden camp, something wrought of shadow and moonlight. Jace dismounted, pausing to study the unicorn's impressive visage, wondering if he appeared half so unearthly; the beast's amused snort assured him that it was so. The creature seemed wrought of dark mist, but an eerie blue light suffused the unicorn from within, as if errant moonbeams had become forever trapped within a smoky veil. Jace studied his own person and smiled grimly, knowing this was an audience that would not be soon forgotten. The watchmen hid themselves and begged the earth to consume them utterly while their sleeping comrades slept on unawares.

Jace approached the tent of the slumbering Farns, or what should have been the slumbering Farns, but the man sat on his cot and seemed to be waiting for the ethereal messenger. He scoffed, "come for my soul then?"

Jace frowned, "your soul?"

The man growled impatiently, "is that not what all you specters and phantoms are after?"

Jace shook his head, "you alone are answerable for the fate of your own soul, sir, I am here simply as a servant of justice. Will you come willingly and face a fair trial for your actions this night, among others, or must I mete it out here and now?"

Farns mocked, "have at me boy! The results will be the same, enough blood stains my hands that you cannot but help finding me guilty of murder and worse. Be done with it, quietly, rather than cause a public spectacle, that is, if you are capable."

Jace said quietly, "would you make peace with the Master?"

The man barked a bitter laugh, "what need have I of mercy! Strike true or be gone fell specter, I will not come begging at the last, come what may!"

Jace bowed his head, "so be it." He reached out a tentative hand and touched it firmly to the scowling man's chest; he vanished in a sudden flare of light. Jace inhaled sharply and took a horrified step back, his mind reeling from what he had just done. For some reason taking a life in this manner was far different than dealing out death with a sword.

The magpie suddenly perched on Jace's misty shoulder and said gravely, "you must remember that it is not you who are dispensing justice, but rather Me through you, whether by the sword or in this fashion, I will use you to accomplish what I must in this broken world." Jace bowed his head solemnly and the bird vanished in a flash of light. The boy withdrew silently from the tent, returned to his saddle, and they vanished like mist in the morning, leaving the terrified minions to find their master spirited away in the night. Jace rode on towards Umboria, thoughtful with the revelation of the gravity of his new occupation. It was not all adventure and crossing swords, but rather there were moments, such as last night, that were fit to break one's heart, and suddenly he realized the sorrow the Master had borne on his behalf and that of all the world. He bowed his head in grateful thanks as he rode on.

Umboria was a quiet land, almost too quiet. The folk went about their business, never looking too closely at one another or any passersby, speaking only when absolutely necessary. The villages and farmsteads were simple, functional, with no decoration or ostentation; the peasants were clad as simply as their habitations, with ever a look of worry or fear haunting every gaze Jace managed to catch in passing. He arrived in the capital city without incident, wondering how much Baye had accomplished in the interim. Two out of the three tyrannical lords had been accounted for, that meant only one remained; there was also the question of who was to assume the throne. Jace wondered if the current King was even fit to rule, as trampled upon as he had been by his greatest lords, who had formed a brutal triumvirate to rule through him.

He entered the city in guise as himself, but clad as a simple traveler rather than one of the Brethren. He entered the city without challenge but was stopped at the castle gates by some rather grim looking guards who chased him off with dire warnings not to meddle in affairs that did not concern him. He sat his saddle wondering how to enter, when his unicorn snorted and suggested the obvious solution. Grinning sheepishly, he turned down an unoccupied alley and immediately vanished from sight. The unicorn would remain in the city while Jace scouted within the castle, hoping to soon find Baye and learn what was passing in Umboria of late. He stole through the outer walls unseen, and after a brief study of the servant's livery, reappeared wearing a perfect replica. He smiled eagerly, knowing a servant could ghost unseen about the castle almost as well as if he were invisible, and at least in this guise he could interact with those about him, rather than being an indifferent observer.

He wandered about for some time, mapping out the castle and listening to any gossip he caught in passing. The sole surviving lord of the triumvirate had become temporary Steward of the throne as the King was gravely ill and the Prince supposedly abroad visiting his mother's relatives, though messengers had been dispatched to retrieve him with all haste. Jace frowned, wondering where on earth Baye had secreted himself if all thought Prince Caire was still absent. He needed to find Baye, somehow expose the treachery of the Steward, discover if the King still lived, and find someone fit to rule, if necessary. That was a tall order for one who had only been in the Kingdom half a day. Jace smiled to himself, he had done far more impossible things before.

Another thought occurred to him, did the Lady have an Advisor to the King of Umboria? Not likely if the country was in such a state and the Lady knew nothing of it, but that was something he could discover whilst he searched for the King, if he still lived. He set off, hoping to find Baye, one of the Brethren, or the King, as he began to comb the far reaches of the castle. He decided to start at the top and work his way down, not really having an affinity for dungeons not belonging to the Brethren. He went to the northeast corner of the palace and mounted the stairs leading to the highest tower of the great castle, wondering what he would find, almost childlike in his eagerness to explore the forgotten reaches of the ancient structure. He was rather disappointed to discover that the top third of that wing of the palace was unoccupied, save by pigeons and spiders. The door leading to the highest tower was boarded up but that was no impediment to a Shadow, but his scouting little availed him.

Jace retraced his steps and had just passed through the barred door when his eyes met those of a terrified guardsman. The man took one last look at the ghastly apparition and fled with a shriek of terror. Jace frowned, thinking the man's reaction a little much, even if he did just see a man walk through a closed door, but then he caught a glimpse of his own reflection in a dusty mirror hanging on the adjacent wall and smiled grimly, perhaps what this castle really needed was a good haunting. He looked again at the figure in the mirror, wrought of dusky mist and bluish light, vaguely resembling a certain missing prince. But first to find the King. Jace vanished utterly from sight and resumed his exploration of the castle's forgotten corners.

He found neither the King nor any of his comrades, including Baye, but he did manage to scare several servants, a minor lord, and three guardsmen, always appearing when he thought himself invisible. He shook his head ruefully, knowing this was not of his own doing and content to know that this particular disaster was in hands far more capable than his own, those which had wrought the universe in fact. At last there remained nothing but the dungeons to explore, that and the stables. He had yet to meet the Steward, who was apparently out on a hunting foray, but he had seen no sign of the King, though he was supposedly somewhere abed and gravely ill. He shuddered, hoping his lordship was not so vicious as to assign a sick man quarters in the dank and musty dungeons. But his search of such a notorious basement yielded nothing either.

At last he withdrew to the stables, wondering where everyone was hiding, but he finally got to see the Steward, whose party had just clattered into the stableyard. A sudden flash of silver drew Jace's attention and a slight smile grew on his unseen face. The Steward had just dismounted when a dismayed servant came rushing up to inform him that there had been several sightings of what was whispered to be the ghost of the Prince, several of the witnesses were reliable and sensible people, not prone to fancy or drink. One of the servants that had accompanied his lordship on his outing smiled thoughtfully while the Steward did his best to maintain a look of dour incredulity. He growled, "if someone dares to haunt my castle, let him make a proper introduction and we shall see what comes of the matter. These rumors are to stop here and now, am I understood?" The terror stricken servant nodded weakly but his master seemed content that the matter had been rectified then and there.

His lordship turned back to his hunting party and snarled, "what are you standing about gawking at? See to the horses and then attend to your usual duties. Go!" His bellow set the horses to snorting and stamping uneasily, but it propelled the servants, guardsmen, and minor lords that had accompanied him into action. The slightly grinning servant that had drawn Jace's attention was the first to lead his and two other beasts back to the stables where he busied himself with settling his charges.

As he bent down to clean out a particularly muddy hoof, he felt a presence suddenly beside him in the crowded stall. Said Jace with a grin, ducking behind the stall's partition out of casual sight, "how long have you desired to be a groom? I think you'd make a fine stable boy."

Baye smiled in amusement, "about as long as you've been interested in impersonating the ghost of someone who yet draws breath."

"Not so," said Jace in impish delight, "I hear tell that Prince Caire was brutally struck down upon the north road by one Lord Farns, alongside the third traitorous lord."

Baye shook his head, his smile broad enough to split it asunder, "nay lad, when are you going to learn? The reigning Steward had the unfortunate Prince murdered secretly the very night he returned to Umboria."

Jace sobered, "what of the King?"

Baye said gravely, "he was said to be ill and abed the day I arrived, I have not heard or seen anything of him since. What of Lord Farns?"

Jace shivered, "justice has been satisfied, only the Steward remains of the original threesome."

Baye said thoughtfully, "so it only remains to prove the Steward a traitor and find someone fit to sit upon the throne." He smiled slightly, "I think I know just the man, but how to expose our dear Steward for the murderer and traitor he truly is?"

Jace smiled grimly, "leave that to me." Baye flinched in surprise at the ghostly figure with him in the stall; thankfully the horse was too busy attending to his grain to notice.

Baye said eagerly, "that might just do the trick." Jace gave him a roguish grin and vanished from sight.

The Steward was sitting at table, presiding over a sullen and anxious court that night, for none could dismiss this apparent haunting as easily as their current master, nor did they find his lack of faith reassuring. But when the specter walked in and brazenly sat in the empty seat beside his lordship, the one reserved for the vanished Prince, he could not help but take notice. He stared at the phantom and it stared back at him, a look of casual indifference on its face. Stuttered he at last, every eye fixed upon the uncanny pair, "what is it you want?"

The apparition yawned widely and said lazily, "the usual."

The Steward gasped, "my soul?"

The ghost appeared rather miffed, "why does everyone keep saying that? Do not be ridiculous, I want justice of course."

"Justice?" snarled the Steward, fury overcoming his fear, "justice for what?"

Yawned the specter, "you know very well for what. Now just admit to all and sundry here your part in things or I shall prove quite a bother to the peace and quiet of this rather charming heap of rocks. I will make such a nuisance of myself that eventually you will be the sole remaining occupant of this place. Well?"

"All right!" roared the irate lord, "I admit it, I admit everything! I arranged for the murder of the King and had the Prince killed when he returned unexpectedly from his visit abroad. I and two others have been using the King as a puppet for many a year, ruling through him and intended to do the same with the heir. Need I admit more or will that suffice?" He glared at the insolent phantasm, which grinned in satisfaction.

Said Jace, "I think that is a fair start, the rest will no doubt come out at your trial."

"I will not be put on trial by these mindless sheep for their own amusement!" seethed the furious Steward, "if justice is to be satisfied, let it be by my own hand!"

"No!" cried Jace, but it was too late, the man had drawn a dagger from some hidden sheath and drove it suddenly into his own heart. He slumped in his chair and so perished the last of the traitorous trio.

In the sudden chaos, the ghost vanished, never more to be seen in that country while one of the Brethren propitiously appeared. Baye stood forth to calm the aggrieved and stunned crowd, assuring them that order and justice would be restored forthwith to that long oppressed realm. An aging but hardy minor lord had caught Baye's eye as a potential replacement if things were as they feared in regards to the King. He readily agreed to assume the Stewardship and was heartily accepted by one and all as the true and proper King a few months later. Caire was grieved to hear of his father's demise but heartened to know that Umboria was at last free of the influence of the usurping lords while their sons and minions were properly cowed after the mysterious and sudden downfall of the triumvirate, readily accepting the new King in its stead.

Jace met Baye on the edge of the city as he made an appropriately quiet exit into the sunset, now that matters seemed well and truly settled. Said the former specter, "thus ends my first solo adventure." He smiled roguishly, "and it was a right and proper fairy tale, complete with uncanny characters and the hero riding silently off in search of his next tale."

Baye shook his head in mock dismay, but he could not hide his amused grin, "when will you kids ever learn that life is not a fairy tale nor our adventures the stuff of legend?"

Jace laughed outright, "come now, look who is saying what!"

Baye chuckled, "I suppose I am the last person who should be saying such a thing." He smiled ruefully, "if the adventures of our comrades are legend enough, the exploits of the Shadow must be thought nearly mythic." He shook his head, "not that anyone is ever likely to hear of them, save perhaps ourselves and the Lady of Astoria."

Jace frowned, "who wrote the books then?"

Baye shook his head, "I once asked Jared that, he said they were old when he first saw them and that was well over a thousand years ago, in the very morning of the world."

Jace's brow furrowed in consternation, "how could that be possible?"

Baye said thoughtfully, "we can summon a thing from a distance, why could the Master not summon something from the future and bring it into the past? For when Jared was Called, the Shadow had not yet been launched, so how could there be legends to recount?"

Jace said in wonder, "so some of those stories likely have not happened yet?"

Baye laughed, "oh, they have happened, at least in the Master's perception though certainly not in ours. For we see Time as a line that runs off straight into the future or back into the past, our current position upon it, what we call the present, a single point of many that have been or are yet to come, all merging together to form an unbreakable line. But the Master sees all that has been and will ever be all at the same time, perhaps as a sphere, rather than as a line as we mortals assume it to be. To Him, the past, the present, and the future are all happening at once!"

Jace shook his head, overwhelmed at this startling revelation of the physics, or rather, metaphysics, of time and space and reality. Baye smiled in understanding, "this is all a theory of course, mortal mind certainly cannot wrap itself fully around such a concept nor our meager words give it satisfactory expression."

Jace smiled eagerly, "it shall be interesting to watch the story unfold and then view it in full from the other side of eternity."

Baye nodded his hearty agreement, "that it will lad, that it will." He suddenly drew up alongside Jace and placed a firm hand on the unicorn's shoulder, said he with a smile, "but first, I think you have a few more plots to fulfill and characters to meet." The pair vanished in a flash of light and Baye continued on his way.

Jace blinked, only mildly surprised to find himself garbed as a commoner standing alone in an alley near the main castle gate in Astoria. He emerged unnoticed from his seclusion and joined the small throng of those waiting to gain admittance to the castle, but he had not long to wait, for one of the guards motioned towards him, saying, "come to study lad?"

Jace grinned in amusement rather than in answer, but the Warrior didn't know the difference; he stepped forward, allowing himself to be ushered into the courtyard where two other new students stood awkwardly about, suddenly unsure of this strange adventure they had gotten themselves into.

Jared approached the trio, wearing the same warm smile he had borne upon Jace's first advent in Astoria and with which he greeted all newcomers to that strange land. He caught a sudden flash of silver on the palm of one of the lads but took it in stride and did nothing to betray his surprise, said he to the three, "welcome to Astoria lads, come with me and I'll see that you are settled." He put special emphasis on the last three words as he glanced significantly at the disguised Jace, a knowing sparkle in his eye. Jace nodded blandly in return. They set off, the neophytes happy to be away from the gate and all the strangers thereabouts. Jared settled the pair of newbies in a room, gave them a brief introduction to Astoria and what next was to be done, and then motioned for Jace to follow further down the hall.

He turned to the faux Student once they were alone in the hall, "there's a spare bed in this room but you may find your roommate a little intimidating." He paused and then continued dryly, "he's the most skilled and talented Student Astoria has seen in eighty years, and well does he know it and reminds all those about him incessantly of his skill. He refuses to room with anyone of lesser skill, though we insist otherwise, he always manages to intimidate the poor lad we think to place with him into either fleeing the city or begging to be reassigned to different quarters."

Jace smiled reminiscently, "I will do my best. Any idea why else I am here, save to fill a difficult bed?"

Jared, glimpsing movement further down the hall, said furtively, "people come to Astoria for many reasons lad and I could not begin to guess yours, but I am sure time will tell."

The distant figure approached, made a minimal sign of courtesy, and then stared expectantly at Jared, as if expecting the creature to make a hasty exit, but Jared stood there seemingly oblivious to the impertinent Student's behavior, saying at last, "ah Griff, this is quite providential, let me introduce you to your new roommate, you can call him Ace."

Griff studied the boy before him and was not impressed, but with a minimal nod of his head and a muttered, "so it is," he withdrew to his room and left the pair to exchange an amused glance in the hall.

Jared said in farewell, a slight grin on his face, "may the Master ride with you, lad!"

'Ace' nodded, staring in astonishment at the closed door through which his roommate had vanished; he would certainly need the Master's help, whatever this strange assignment turned out to be. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and hoped soon to find out why he was here.

Griff lounged in a chair, a book in his lap, but a scowl on his handsome face as Ace entered, said he, "don't bother unpacking, you won't be staying long; they never do. I am the handsomest, smartest, most talented individual to cross the threshold of this castle in nearly a century, a fact that none dispute, and I do not wish to share my domain with lesser men. You will prove yourself my equal or you will leave, those are your choices. Well?"

Expecting a flabbergasted reply or none at all, he was aghast to hear Ace say quite calmly, "fair enough, just tell me when, where, and how."

The book fell to the floor, forgotten, as Griff stood suddenly, stammered he, "we can start right now. To the practice yard!" Ace shrugged and allowed the baffled Griff to lead the way. They picked up a gaggle of curious Students in their wake as they made their way out of the castle, all eager to see what Griff would do to his new roommate.

Hawk was putting away the last of the weapons from the day's classes when the pair and their escort ambled into the practice yard, said he in some consternation, "what is this?"

Griff smirked, "a private duel, sir."

Hawk's frown deepened but Jace surreptitiously flashed his palm at the irritated instructor whose demeanor suddenly turned thoughtful, "very well, whatever it is you are up to, leave me out of it and use only the wooden weapons." Griff offered a slight bow in acquiescence as Hawk departed, flashing Jace an incredulous grin as he passed.

The Students murmured their eagerness and surprise as the pair selected their weapons and faced off in the center of the yard. Said Griff with a sneer, "perhaps a sound bruising will curb your insolence, fool." With no further warning, he leapt upon the unsuspecting boy.

But Jace was far from unsuspecting and easily blocked the first blow and dodged in with his own, which confounded his opponent as much as an equitable answer to his initial challenge. The ringing Students voiced their own surprise, their excitement intensifying with every thrust and parry. At last out of breath, Griff said evenly, "enough, you have earned yourself the chance to stay the night in my quarters, tomorrow we shall see if your mind is as quick as your blade and if you shall remain another day in my domicile."

Jace put up his sword, nodded firmly, and strode from the practice yard, leaving the mystified Students to whisper and gape in his wake. Griff stood in the yard, sword forgotten in his hand, a bevy of conflicting thoughts roiling in his mind; it was a long time before he came in to the evening meal, but he did not find the astonishing Ace therein. He returned to their shared quarters but neither was he there. With a sigh, he flopped into his chair and took up his book, but paid it no heed as he replayed the evening's events time and again.

Jace found Hawk waiting for him on a bench under an ancient tree on the great lawn, said he in greeting, "I suppose you are not here for some remedial sword instruction?"

Jace grinned, "I was actually hoping you could tell me what was going on."

Hawk shook his head as his friend seated himself, "all I can tell you is the lad is skilled, as good as you in your day, but he has thrice the attitude." Jace frowned in consternation as Hawk clarified, "you were cocky and sure of yourself, but you also listened to criticism and never made anyone feel like they were inferior to you, regardless of native talent. Griff makes sure everyone knows exactly where they stand in relation to himself, and he is in nowise gentle whilst he goes about it."

Jace grinned, "and now?"

Hawk's smile was patient, but the corners of his mouth twitched, betraying his amusement, "you know very well what came of the matter in your own case," he sobered significantly, "imagine what may happen in Griff's"

Jace shuddered, "perhaps he will listen to reason before anything dreadful need happen to open his eyes?" He frowned, "is the Master so insistent with everyone who ignores or refuses Him?"

Hawk shook his head, "I think He is particularly forceful with those He has called and gifted for a certain purpose, which they refuse to acknowledge, preferring to glory in their native talents and think it all their own doing."

Jace nodded wryly, "sounds familiar. I wonder if Griff is more sensible than I was in his position?"

Hawk shook his head, "he makes you look malleable and humble by comparison."

Jace sighed heavily, "then I certainly have my work cut out for me." He grinned eagerly, "though it shall be interesting to relive my glory days with a competitor of equal talent!" He flashed an amused smile at Hawk in farewell, "go easy upon me, I'm barely out of my apprenticeship you know."

Hawk laughed and said, "then you should at least be the equal of any of these neophyte Students."

Jace smiled warmly as he walked off, "not with so talented a teacher, I think."

The hall was dark and silent as he returned to his quarters, but Griff was not asleep, rather he lurked in the dark room like a spider in the corner, biding its time until its prey should happen by. Said he with a hiss, "first day in Astoria and already defying curfew? Are you so bold or merely ignorant?"

Jace shrugged, "I had a matter I wished to discuss with someone and took the opportunity to do so. What business is it of yours?"

Griff stood and fumbled about, trying to light a candle, "I pride myself on adhering to the rules and on my personal conduct; my roommate will do the same."

Jace said in wonder, "then how do you explain your behavior to your so-called superiors? You can be quite insolent in your dealings with them."

Griff said harshly, "I adhere to the minutest details of decorum, I may walk a fine line at times, which may appear insolent, but I never cross the line into intentional offense."

Jace shook his head in incredulity, "I was speaking with the swordmaster, though I was out past curfew, it is permissible as long as I was with one of the Brethren."

Griff smiled slightly, "I see you are not immune to nuance yourself, very well, perhaps I misjudged you." He sighed, "it is not easy being so skilled, staying atop the treacherous pinnacle that is the social apex amongst the Students. It is quite a lonely venture." His countenance and voice darkened, "neither will I suffer a rival."

Jace raised his hands placatingly, "I have no wish to displace you or even to find an agreeable social position amongst the Students; you need count me as neither rival nor foe."

The truth was palpable in Jace's voice and Griff said with a frown, "with such purported skill, you could go far! Why not exploit it for all it is worth? What is the point of life if not to find what pleasure and glory in it one may? Is that not the birthright of every man?"

"A very poor birthright," said Jace quietly, "for only one may be atop the heap at a given moment and what if he is thrown down, never more to rise? Is his life then over? My skills, whatever they be, were gifted me for a reason and I will use them to fulfill that purpose, therein only is found true contentment and fulfillment, all else is merely chasing after the wind." He asked quizzically, "are you happy with your lot, content with your ephemeral glory?"

Griff snarled, "what business is that of yours? I might ask what business you had with our esteemed swordmaster?"

Jace smiled enigmatically and said, "then I fear we are at an impasse, but my question was more rhetorical than curious, for your own benefit rather than mine."

Griff snarled silently and snuffed the candle, letting the darkness and silence hide him from the troubling apparition but it could do naught to hide him from the uneasy thoughts the boy had inspired. He was nearly as bad as one of the Brethren in his ability to turn your well concealed thoughts and perfectly crafted excuses on their head and upset the very ballast of one's soul. He did not like it in the least.

Morning found a very tired and uneasy Griff, having slept very little that night yet neither had he found solace for his tumultuous thoughts while his roommate seemed perfectly at ease with himself and all the world, scowled he, "how is it you can destroy a man's peace of mind and yet sleep so innocently yourself?"

Jace grinned, "if I can that easily unsettle your thoughts, you must be off kilter indeed, for I said nothing accusatory, incendiary, or cruel." Griff gaped, did this insolent boy have an easy answer for everything? Jace's open grin seemed answer enough, continued he, "would you care to join me for breakfast?"

Griff sighed heavily but decided to make at least a public show of decency, if only to keep the other Students in the dark as to the unsettling effect his companion had upon him. He nodded and they went down to breakfast, both appearing as if all were well with the world, but only Jace was truly at ease with himself and reality. He knew what it had cost himself personally to reach such a state of mind and prayed fervently that his companion need not face a similar fate, but all rested upon Griff's choices in that regard and nothing Jace said or did could alter that, save perhaps to waken him to the reality of the matter and urge him to choose wisely, think deeply, and humble himself before he was forcibly humbled. As they finished their silent meal, Griff said quietly, "today is the Free Day, I'd like to show you something." Jace nodded and they set off, Griff almost eager in whatever it was he intended.

They saddled a pair of horses and headed out of the city, Jace's heart leapt and then fell as Griff turned his horse in a particular, fateful direction once the city lay behind them. But he reminded himself that he was not Griff nor Griff himself, their stories might be similar but each was unique. Almost every student in Astoria must find that awful gorge fascinating at one time or another, though it played a vital part in Jace's story did not mean it would play anything but a minor role in Griff's. They trotted out to the gorge, left the horses tied on the edge of the forest, and spent the day exploring the rim of the precipice, Griff trying to interrogate his companion and impress him all at the same time.

As the sun reached its midday peak, they carefully crawled out upon an ancient tree trunk that spanned the gorge to eat their lunch. As Griff stared into the chasm that gaped hungrily beneath them, he said thoughtfully, "there is an old story concerning this particular gorge and probably this very log." Jace gave him a curious look as he continued, "they say I am the most talented individual to enter Astoria in eighty years, before me there was a lad, almost as skilled, with a future all laid out for him. He was set to marry a princess and his future seemed bright when tragedy struck. He fell from this very spot, but somehow survived the fall and even made a full recovery, but he must have struck his head for he claimed to have seen visions of the so-called Master and was never again the same. Tragically he lost his bride, his future, everything, and was forced to take up with the Brethren to avoid poverty and infamy, but he seems to have been completely lost to history, for shortly after that he disappeared entirely."

Jace was silent for a long moment, both amused and appalled at this telling of his own tale, then asked, "you do not think the boy's visions could have been real?"

Griff stared at him aghast, "you do not believe in the so-called Master do you?"

Jace smiled, "I must admit that I do."

Griff shook his head grimly, "and here I thought you were sensible! Last night you proved yourself adept with a blade, today you have proven you can ride a horse and that you even have a passable mind, but I am reconsidering the latter after such a revelation."

Jace laughed, "and yet you are content to learn from those who are equally superstitious?"

Griff snarled, "if there were anywhere else to learn, trust me, I would be the first in line, but despite their myths, the Brethren still offer the greatest educational opportunity in the world!" He said sourly, "you shall fit right in." He raised an eyebrow and said snidely, "when will you be taking your Oath?"

Jace shook his head, smiling sheepishly, "I shall never take the Oath."

Griff frowned, "why ever not? You have the myths and the skills to excel in such a circus!"

Jace shook his head, "I cannot discuss the details, but it shall never be."

Griff grinned openly, "the Lady will be even more incensed at you than she was at me, at least I can plead indifference of belief but you have no excuse at all!"

Jace asked in surprise, "the Lady has already broached the subject with you?"

Griff smiled proudly, "why wouldn't she? Who would want to see such a great man slip through her fingers?"

Jace shook his head grimly, "the lad in your tale, he is the current Lady's twin brother." He said in a barely audible whisper, "and had a similar interview with the then Lady shortly before disaster struck."

Griff snorted incredulously, "you aren't trying to tell me this is a bad omen or something are you? No such disaster would ever convince me to change my mind, in fact it would pretty much assure I'd remain a skeptic until my dying day. Who would choose to follow such a vengeful god?

"It isn't vengeance," said Jace quietly, "the Master counts your soul more valuable even than His own life, having shed His very blood to ransom it. He will do what He must to waken us from our vain and empty lives that we might step into that which He has called us."

Griff stared at Jace in horror, "you sound like one of them, is that it? You are really one of the Brethren in disguise, come to corrupt me with your false pretenses?"

Jace raised his hands, "I told you truly, I have never taken the Oath nor shall I. I can say it no more plainly than that."

Griff scoffed, "say what you like, you sound just like one of _them_." Said he grumpily, "a pity, I was actually starting to like you, or at least respect you a little bit. Now all hope of that is forever lost. You had best go." Jace opened his mouth to protest, but he knew it would do no good so turned away and silently retreated, leaving Griff to his own uneasy thoughts, wondering what the boy would choose. He could feel the Master's call upon the boy, call for what, he did not know, but he knew the boy had a destiny, if only he would seek it.

Jace returned to their room, wondering if his roommate would try and evict him upon his return, but he did not return until late that night, said he upon his arrival, "we need to settle this. Now."

Jace rose silently and followed his companion once more to the practice yard, where a full moon hung heavy and low, as if waiting for something to happen. There was light enough by which to see and the shadows were a perfect accompaniment to Griff's mood. They chose swords, this time the real thing, and faced off. Said Jace quietly, "we need not do this!"

Griff said gruffly, "perhaps you needn't but I certainly do, if only to prove myself the superior. We'll just cross blades for a bit, work off some steam, that sort of thing, nothing dangerous about that is there? At least not to those as skilled as we." Then he lunged. Jace saw the blade coming, but when he tried to react, he felt as if he were moving through thick mud; his blade came up to block, but so slowly that his companion had pierced him through and withdrawn the weapon in horror before Jace was even halfway to parrying the stroke. Jace collapsed with a groan, the sword clattered to the ground, and Griff fled in horror and fear at what he had done. The moment Griff vanished from sight, Jace was on his feet, again in guise as himself, and giving chase. An astonished shadow ghosted silently after.

Jace found the lad standing perilously on the very log from which he had plummeted nigh on a century ago. Griff flinched, nearly falling in his surprise, to see that someone had pursued him; he perched there precariously, seemingly ready either to defend himself or jump to his death. Jace held up his hands and called aloud, "easy lad, the boy lives."

Griff stared, "it was an accident, but I know I killed him!"

Jace took a step forward and the boy stepped back a pace, said Jace, "easy, this place is dangerous!"

Griff snarled, "I know the tale."

Jace said wryly, "I lived the tale."

Griff gaped, "but you vanished!"

Jace grinned, "and recently returned, now come down and we'll talk."

"No," said the impudent boy, "you come to me."

Jace shrugged and climbed up onto the log, said he as he approached, "it was an accident, the lad should recover, and you have nothing to fear."

Griff shivered, "I have everything to fear, I am being pursued!"

Jace stood a pace from the boy and said, "are you so sure you want to run?"

Griff frowned, "how can I not?"

Jace said ruefully, "I once thought that way as well."

Griff scowled, "and then you had a nightmare, big deal!"

Shaking his head, Jace replied, "nay lad, it was more real than waking life, even my sister thought as you."

"The current Lady of Astoria!" said Griff in wonder.

Jace grinned, "the same, come lad, you are not the only one who has felt that particular Hound hard upon his heels. But the only place to avoid Him utterly is Nowhere you'd want to be." He shuddered, "I spent a moment there and it seemed an eternity."

"No!" cried the boy in dismay as he rushed at Jace, knocking him off balance and plunging him into the depths below. Griff barely registered what had happened before fleeing into the night. He did not hear the gasp of horror from a hidden throat as the man vanished into the chasm.

Scamp stood in the night dark clearing, a dying man at his feet; he knelt beside the mangled Brother and asked, "what happened?"

The man gasped out, "not quite sure...a shadowy villain crept into the camp as we slept, my unicorn made to intercede and was killed outright, which seemed to please the villain no end. Next thing I know there's a great shriek, more eagle than lion, and then there's a griffin in the camp! You can see what he did to me and I think he took my apprentice." Scamp gaped but could say nothing in his horror before the man continued, "the thing talks! Save the lad...if you can..." He exhaled with a groan and said no more.

Scamp stood slowly, shaking his head and fighting back the tears. He could not do it! He glanced down at the mangled form and almost envied the man, knowing he was well and truly beyond all this horror, blood, and death. His memory flashed back to his time with Hawk before the boy had been called into the Shadow, the horror that had wrung his heart when he thought him dead at the hands of just such a villain, and the night he had struck out blindly in a shadow-induced nightmare and thought himself guilty of a sin akin to patricide! Now another innocent youth was imperiled, yet Scamp could not bring himself to follow in pursuit. He was tired, so tired, of blood and death, horror and darkness; he could go on no longer.

He knelt in the center of the clearing, buried his swordpoint in the earth, and knelt with his head resting upon the hilt, praying quietly, "my Lord, I can go on no longer; tell me what I must do!"

There came a brilliant flash and Jace stood blinking in astonishment in the midst of the clearing, having just fallen off a certain log into a looming gorge in a distant forest. He saw Scamp kneeling over his sword and knew immediately what the man intended, even if he had never seen it before. Said he quietly, "you will Go?"

Scamp looked up, his eyes both sad and joyous, "aye lad, I weary of death and sorrow. Tell the others farewell, especially Hawk." He smiled proudly, "he will do well." Finished he, glancing at the dead man, "there's apparently a griffin on the loose, he took the man's apprentice and the creature apparently talks!"

Jace shuddered in horror, nodded in farewell, and then the light consumed everything. When he could see once more, Scamp and the dead Brother were gone, but an anxious unicorn stood off to one side of the clearing, he whickered hopefully at Jace as the light receded and suddenly he knew what he must do. He called the beast over, mounted, and asked him to find his missing master, which he did with all eagerness. The boy was yet alive, though in the clutches of an unthinkable monster, and thankfully not very far away.

An hour of climbing in the rocky hill country brought them to the mouth of a cave wherein the unicorn said his master and the beast were secreted. Jace dismounted and bid the creature watch from a safe distance as he drew his sword and entered the cave. A horrid screech, part outraged cat and part eagle's shriek, rent the air and set Jace's ears ringing in the enclosed space. He saw the griffin near the back, seeing easily in the pitch dark of the cavern, crouched over the trembling apprentice. Said Jace with quiet menace, "let the boy go, fiend, you have far more terrible things to worry about."

The furry fiend scoffed, "like what, you?"

Jace set himself and hefted his sword, "precisely."

The griffin yawned, stretched, and turned from his intended prey, "you are either a fool or far too bold for sanity. Either way, I shall happily rid the world of you. Why do you not tremble at the thought of a griffin, let alone one with a sapient mind?"

Jace shrugged, "I have faced the wrath of dragons, what have I to fear from a feathered cat?"

The creature smirked, "are you not even curious as to how it is I came to possess a mind of my own?"

Jace raised his sword, prepared to strike, "not in the least, you obviously used some sort of blood magic, trading the life of a unicorn to power whatever appalling wonder you have wrought, rent one of my comrades asunder, and made off with his apprentice. I do not wish to hear further details. I will strike true, have you a wish to repent ere all is finished?"

Scoffed the beast, "repent! Of what? You will be the one repenting of your folly soon enough." He smiled wickedly, "have at me then, let us see if you can overcome the griffin!"

Jace raised his sword and charged the monster, he felt beak and claws tearing into his vulnerable flesh even as his sword made contact with the beast, the light stirred within him, illuminating Jace, sword, and fiend. The griffin shrieked in pain and horror as the light consumed it utterly, never having imagined a foe like this. Jace dropped his sword and slumped to the floor of the cave, for a moment overwhelmed but fully healed by the power that had poured out of hims into the monstrosity. The cowering apprentice in the corner studied his savior with wide eyes, perhaps more terrified by the means of his rescue than by the beast.

At last Jace rolled to his knees and eyed the boy keenly, "ready to be gone from this place?"

The lad nodded eagerly but eyed Jace nervously, asking, "what happened, with the light and the monster? Is my mentor truly dead?"

Jace nodded sadly, "he lived just long enough to tell the tale; I rode your unicorn in swift pursuit. Are you injured?"

The boy shook his head, "just a few scratches and overwrought with grief and horror."

Jace continued, "you have had a trying day, and I doubt it has even fully sunk in yet. As to what you saw, just know the Master still works miracles."

Said the boy stonily, "why couldn't He save my mentor?"

Jace shook his head sadly, "it was not that He could not, but rather He did not. I can offer no reasons or excuses on His behalf, for who are we to question His will? His ways are not our ways neither are His thoughts our thoughts. We must either learn to trust Him in all things or go our own way. It is not wrong to question but we must not despair. I shall send you back to Astoria, you will need time to recover from this tragedy."

The boy sighed, "I am not up for such a ride."

Jace smiled enigmatically, "who said anything about riding? Call your mount."

The creature was eagerly reunited with his master and nuzzled Jace gratefully. The apprentice mounted and Jace touched the unicorn firmly on the shoulder; all three vanished in a blinding flash.

Jace found himself at the bottom of the chasm only a moment after he had vanished mid-fall, happy not to have had to endure the hard landing once more. He immediately began the long climb out of the gorge, glad of his uncanny strength, speed, and endurance. His unicorn met him at the top and they hastened back to the city with all speed, knowing they must arrive before Griff, who would undoubtedly be looking for a wounded but living Ace. They did not hear the quiet gasp of astonishment as he emerged from the gorge, mounted, and rode off as if the tragedy had never been.

Caire drew out of the shadows, wondering if he were dreaming; he had heard strange rumors from his homeland and had seen too many uncanny things this night for it to be a mere nightmare. He had seen a man change his face, a mortally wounded boy recover instantly, and a man crawl unscathed out of the abyss. He would get to the bottom of this, one way or another. Suddenly a great glowing form loomed out of the night before him and drove him to his knees, trembling in awe and terror as a great unicorn towered above him.

Said He quietly, "child, you have seen things this night that must remain hidden. These things are at My behest, but they must not be broached abroad. Have I your word that you will not look further into this matter or speak of it to anyone?"

The boy blanched, knowing there was nothing he dared deny his Maker but also knowing he yearned above all else to look deeper into this mystery."

He heard a slight smile in his Master's voice, "this matter will trouble you deeply no doubt, curiosity is both one of humanity's greatest strengths and simultaneously a trying weakness, yet I will give you the strength to bear this as all else. Have I your word?"

The boy quavered, "yes." He looked up into those fathomless eyes for one glorious moment and knew he had answered correctly, such was his Master's joy, and then He was gone. Caire shakily rose to his feet, summoned his unicorn, and raced back to Astoria, hoping he had the sense and strength to abide by his promise. He returned in time to see Jace exchange a few quiet words with Jared, who looked a little saddened but not surprised by revelations pertaining to Scamp, and then watched the man dash off in the direction of the practice yard. His own return was not so easy.

The servant eyed him sternly and asked, "what is an apprentice doing abroad at this hour?"

The boy studied his feet, "I saw something strange in the weapons yard, that and the rumors I have heard from home quite disconcerted me. I should not have followed but I did. The Master Himself has bidden me not to speak on this matter."

Jared snorted a laugh, "well, if that be the case, I need reprimand you no further. Go to bed lad and sleep well." Asked he with a frown, "what were these rumors you heard?"

Caire said in consternation, "that I had been kidnapped by one great lord only to be waylaid and murdered by another, but then another tale tells that the surviving great lord claimed to have had me quietly murdered upon my return to Umboria. It is all quite troubling."

Jared shook his head amusedly, "nay lad, resign it all to the bin of things not to be talked of or thought upon, it will greatly spare your sanity and aid in upholding your vow. Thinking too much upon it will only lead to disaster."

The boy sighed heavily but nodded, "I think you have the right of it, I shall retire now and hopefully dream of things quite dull."

No sooner had Caire vanished than Griff approached, his horse frothed with sweat and blowing hard, having been ridden quite sorely as the lad tried to vent some of his confusion and frustration. He was near to panic as he stood at the gate, waiting to be let in. Jared took one look at the beast and was about to scold him, but a frantic light in the boy's eyes stayed his tongue. Said he quietly, "you had best get to bed lad."

The boy stared at him in astonishment, knowing he should have been scolded for both the state of his horse and the hour, but he accepted this bit of grace without a word, returned the horse to his stall, and crept around towards the practice yard. He found Ace sitting against the wall, slumped upon one of the benches that lined the perimeter, injured but not apparently not mortally so. Said Griff in relief and confusion, "I was sure I had struck you a mortal blow!"

Ace looked up dully, weariness and pain in his eyes, said he, his voice clipped and breathless, "I little know, save that I live still. Help me to bed."

Griff stiffened, "you dare command me?"

Ace frowned, "is it too much to ask of the man who has wounded me thus?"

Griff snarled, "it is your own fault! If you could block better or had not baited me into fighting this would not have happened; I'm just lucky you aren't dead, imagine the repercussions then!"

Ace said quietly, "what of the man that followed you in your flight?"

Griff paled, remembering suddenly what had actually happened to that particular fellow, but then shouted, "have him help you to bed, you insolent leech!" He turned on his heel and stormed away as Ace slumped once more against the wall.

"You certainly have a way with people," said Hawk with a wry grin as he stepped out of the shadows.

Jace straightened from his slump, his side aching like fire but grateful that Hawk had been there to make the wound look authentic, said he gravely, "I fear the lad is in worse straits after my efforts this night."

Hawk nodded, "but through no fault of yours. We can only do our duty, it is for others to make their own decisions, for good or for ill."

Said Jace quietly, "Scamp has Gone, he told me to tell you goodbye."

Hawk smiled sadly, "I will miss him but I cannot say I am surprised. Having me as an apprentice, an uninitiated apprentice, was hard on him. He was never quite the same afterwards. Was there a boy involved?"

"Exactly," said Jace somberly, "a griffin, a talking griffin, had taken an apprentice captive after killing the lad's mentor and the man's unicorn."

Hawk shook his head in wonder, "what will these blood magicians dabble in next?"

Jace shuddered, "I am afraid to ask." Then he grinned, "want to help a poor invalid to bed?"

As Hawk helped Jace to his feet, he asked, "who will replace Scamp? We are certainly acquiring a fine collection of youngsters in this profession."

Jared stepped out of the shadows, his two comrades relaxing as they saw who it was, said he, "you forget that some of us have been at this for a very long time and thus are far more prone to retirement than you heady young adventure seekers. The Master will reveal Scamp's successor in due time." He eyed Jace significantly, "perhaps your current charge?"

Jace shook his head, "not without a radical change of heart. It will take more than falling off a log to convince him of his wrongheadedness." He smiled wryly, "he even managed to kill two people accidently this night without pausing to contemplate the moral reality of the situation but rather was only concerned with the potential consequences to himself."

Jared shook his head grimly, "this does not bode well for the lad."

Hawk said in wonder, "I heard him berating Jace for asking for help in getting back to their room, blaming him for his injuries and refusing to help him even so!"

Jared whistled quietly, "do what you can lad, but I fear there is not much to be done." His brow furrowed, "you were followed." Jace blinked in astonishment as Jared continued, "that former prince, Caire, had heard some disturbing rumors pertaining to his apparent fate in his homeland and also saw what happened in the practice yard, then followed you out to wherever you went following Griff. The Master Himself bid the lad not to speak of the matter or to look further into it, to which he agreed but he is a curious one and will no doubt wrestle with it all his life."

Jace grinned, "much like the former Lady."

Jared shook his head, "but he won't have even a smidgeon of the knowledge she possessed; it will be very hard on the lad I fear."

They nodded their agreement and Jared took over for Hawk in escorting Jace to bed, it being a task far more suited to a servant than to the swordmaster, who should not even be awake at that hour. Jared knocked quietly on the appropriate door but there came no answer, so he pushed it open and lay the injured Student on the bed. Griff apparently was asleep in the other bed, for he neither moved nor spoke, as Jared settled Ace in his own bed and then retreated from the room.

Said the still form in the other bed, "so you found someone to help you then? You could not make it back on your own? Some hero you will make!"

Jace barked a laugh but hissed in pain, wishing that he had not, "who said I will ever be a hero? What about you?"

Griff said darkly, "who wants to be a hero? To die before time in some quest soon to be forgotten by all and sundry, if it is ever widely known in the first place? I will live to please myself and no other. If all men are doomed to be forgotten, at least I can enjoy life in the interim. Save me your protestations of what comes after this life, little enough do I care to know." He growled, "perhaps you would have done the world a favor by going forth to find out, instead you will lie on that bed like an invalid for days on end until you either have the decency to die of your wounds or get over them."

"How can you be so heartless?" gasped Jace, suddenly feeling dizzy and rather short of breath, "perhaps you will get your wish sooner than you think." He lay back, panting.

Griff sat up with a frown, "what are you muttering incoherently about?"

Said Jace grimly, "something is wrong, my condition is worsening by the moment."

"Do not be ridiculous," snarled Griff.

Said Jace through gritted teeth, "did you really mean what you said about the world being better off without me?"

"What does it matter?" snapped Griff.

Jace groaned, "I may very soon either prove or refute your point."

Griff grew slightly nervous, but was still rather annoyed, "quit goofing around, this is not funny." Just then he looked up and saw Caire standing in the doorway, horror written on his face. Barked Griff, "have you ever heard of knocking?"

The apprentice frowned, "you two are loud enough to keep the entire hall awake, some of the Students you wakened came to me and asked me to investigate." He eyed Jace warily, recognizing him as the miraculously recovered Student who was now inexplicably wounded again, wondering if he could fulfill his duties as an apprentice while still keeping his promise to the Master. Said he quietly, "please keep it down or I will inform one of the Brethren."

Griff mocked, "by all means, highness!"

Caire eyed Jace curiously but asked only, "might I be of any assistance?"

Jace shifted uneasily but said, "no, I doubt there is anything to be done."

Caire said skeptically, a slight knowing smile threatening to break forth, "we shall see, shan't we?"

Griff snarled, "out!" Caire gave them both a proper bow and vanished from the room.

Griff turned back to his annoying and overly dramatic roommate only to find him dead. He silently studied the limp form with its glazing eyes, feeling neither panic nor horror, simply a vague curiosity. So this was death. He had never had much experience with the concept, at least on a personal level, not even with an animal. Gone was the initial terror that had assaulted him the moment he thought the boy fatally struck; he had had time to grow used to the idea, thus seeing it at last fulfilled no longer terrified him, rather it intrigued him in a way he found a little disturbing. He felt no pity or remorse, the pathetic creature could hardly be counted as human, at least as one worth worrying about; in Griff's estimation, he was about the only person on the planet that really mattered.

He thought back to the unfortunate accident at the gorge and wondered what the Lady would think when she discovered the ironic end her brother had found. He was disappointed he wouldn't be there to see it, but he certainly couldn't remain in Astoria after this. One accident might be explained away, but two in one night? At last fear stirred in his heart, but it was only for his own fate that he fretted, not for either of the lives he had had a part in cutting short. He smiled ironically down at his dead roommate and said, "have you figured out what lies beyond all this then?" There came no answer and Griff scoffed, "that's what I thought." He gathered up a few necessary items and quietly left the room.

Caire did not return to his room as he probably should have, something held him in the hall, some inexplicable sense of things about to happen; he knew his curiosity was getting the better of him and prayed desperately for the strength to resist it and return to his chamber, but he found himself crouching in the shadows a few doors down, watching Griff's door intently. He heard someone moving about and some muffled words, then the door opened slowly, a figure emerged and fled silently down the hall. Intrigued, Caire waited until the fugitive had disappeared around the corner and then entered the room. He was not surprised to find the strange Student dead in his bed; he smiled eagerly, wondering if the enigmatic figure would soon rouse again from the grave. But he lay there as still and silent as death, much to Caire's disappointment.

His more sensible side suddenly reminded him of a certain promise he had given to One he dare not defy; he shivered in dread, offered up a chagrined prayer for forgiveness, and turned to go, but froze in terror to find the door blocked by a man in the uniform of the Brethren. The stranger's eyes quickly scanned the room, taking in the unmoving form in the bed and the anxious apprentice wishing that the floor might open up and swallow him.

Adan stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind him. He found a candle and lit it, silently studying the awkward apprentice further as he did so. Setting the candle down, he sat in the room's sole chair, met Caire's discomfited gaze, and said with a grim smile, "do you mind telling me what is going on around here?"

Horrified, Caire glanced about desperately, looking for some escape or hiding place, but there was nowhere to go, nothing to do, but confess. Adan took pity on him and motioned towards the empty bed, that he might sit and speak as a confidant, rather than as a condemned man before the magistrate. With a sigh of relief and a grateful glance, Caire sat and began his strange tale, "it has been a most unusual day. Word came from Umboria that the Prince had been murdered upon the orders of a certain great lord, but a terrified soldier also arrived at the gates this morning claiming that his master, another great lord of Umboria, had had the same Prince killed, which is quite odd, as I am, or rather was, the only Prince of Umboria.

How is it that two different people can think that they have had me killed when I have not left the castle during the whole fiasco?" He turned grim eyes to the silent figure in the other bed, "but that is not the strangest thing I have seen this day." He paused, wondering if he could proceed, knowing protocol demanded that he obey this man, but also knowing if he violated his vow, it might have dire consequences. Said he quietly, "I do not know how much more I can tell, the Master Himself has bound me to secrecy upon this matter."

Adan raised an eyebrow, "bound you to secrecy and also forbid you from looking deeper into the matter. How is it you are here when you should not be?"

Caire looked at him with wide eyes, "you know?"

Adan smiled slightly, "let us just say I am in on the secret, you may tell me all you have seen with no fear of breaking your promise." He grew grave, "but what of your presence here?"

Caire hung his head, "I initially came to this room at the behest of some of the Students who had been wakened by a ruckus in this chamber. I entered to find one of the boys wounded and abed and the other antagonizing him. I cautioned them about the noise and then withdrew, but something kept me from returning to my own chambers. A few minutes later the door opened and the second boy fled so I decided to look further into the matter. And so did you find me."

Adan shook his head, "what is it that restrained you from going back to bed? Your own curiosity or something else?"

The boy frowned, "I am not sure. I was certainly curious, but I don't think that was the reason I lingered." He sighed heavily, "I cannot keep this up. I will have to resign from the Brethren and withdraw to some distant corner of the world and live a hermit, else I will further betray my vow."

Adan said wryly, "it is a heavy secret to keep lad, especially when you have no idea what it is you are protecting, but I do not think you must act as rashly as all that." His smiled deepened in remembrance, "I was once an inadvertent witness to a rather distressing act that was not at all what it appeared to be; I completely understand your predicament." He said quietly, "I do not think it a coincidence that you have seen and heard all that you have." He stood and approached the corpse on the bed, smiling grimly over his shoulder at Caire, he said, "and I doubt this will surprise you in the least." He placed a firm hand on Jace's chest and wakened him from his lapse into death.

Jace gasped back to life, smiled up joyously into the face of his friend, and was suddenly on his feet, greeting his long sundered companion. Only then did he realize they were not alone. He exchanged a puzzled look with Adan, "how much does he know?"

Adan smiled wryly, "only enough to cause him trouble but not enough to put his mind at ease. Remind you of anything?" They shared a reminiscent smile and then Adan said solemnly to Caire, "you have a decision to make." There came a flash of light and two ancient tomes appeared suddenly in his hands, "take these books back to your chambers, study them well, and think upon the implications to your own life." Caire's brow furrowed in consternation and Adan said quietly, "they will explain much, but not all." The boy nodded slowly, took the books, made the appropriate bows, and fled the room.

Jace raised an eyebrow, "him? I was sure the Master was calling my gifted but egotistical roommate into the Shadow."

Adan smiled ironically, "perhaps, but it sounds to me as if he has answered with a resounding no. Was it not he that slew you?"

Jace laughed, "technically it was Hawk this time, but he did accidentally kill me twice prior to that."

Adan gaped, "twice? When?"

Jace snorted, "earlier this evening, it has been an eventful night." He frowned, "what has come of him?"

Adan shook his head, "the apprentice said he fled shortly after you expired."

"This cannot be good," said Jace as a feeling of unease suddenly grew in his heart, "not good at all." He dashed from the room.

Adan followed, "where are you going?"

Jace said worriedly, "to find our initiate!" Adan groaned as understanding dawned but did not slacken his pace.

Caire returned to his quarters, his mind reeling with wonder and dread, eager to delve into the books and the mysteries they contained. What was this strange conspiracy even the Master Himself seemed intent on hiding? What did it have to do with him? He darted into his darkened chamber and shut the door behind him. He lit a candle and gasped, for the sudden light revealed a grimly smiling Griff sitting on the bed, smirked he, "it is about time you got here. I hate waiting, what kept you?"

It took Caire a moment to realize he outranked this impertinent Student and that the boy was sitting in his chambers far past curfew and had been involved in several questionable incidents of late. Drawing himself up, Caire said, "you are the one who should be explaining things, not me."

Griff's smile became malice itself, "oh, I think not. You are privy to things I would rather not have widely known, that and I've suddenly taken an interest in those books you carry."

Caire glanced down at his burden, suddenly nervous in the presence of this threatening individual who did not seem to know his place, said he quietly, "I am afraid you won't be allowed to look at them."

Griff snorted, a knife suddenly in his hand, "oh, come now! Either way you end up dead and I get the books so you might as well make it as easy upon yourself as you can."

Caire reached desperately for the doorknob behind him, but his hand met thin air; he glanced back in a panic to discover that the knob had inexplicably vanished. A chill wind gusted through the chamber and plunged them both into darkness, as a horrid voice scoffed, "don't kill him," there was a dreadful pause and the voice said in anticipation, "yet."

The next moment the door flew open but the chamber was empty as Adan and Jace arrived too late. They exchanged a grim look and immediately hastened to the courtyard where their unicorns waited eagerly with Caire's distraught mount, who could only sense cold and darkness and evil when he tried to touch his master's mind. Hawk joined them briefly in the dull grey light of predawn, said he worriedly as they mounted, exchanging a significant look with Jace, "he's at his most vulnerable right now, this is when the Enemy will try to corrupt or destroy him before he sees another recruited into the Shadow. May the Master ride with you, my friends." He slapped Jace's unicorn on the rump as they galloped out of the courtyard, watching silently as they were swallowed up by the misty streets, praying that they would be in time, and that the lad's trial would not be as horrific as his own had been.

There was darkness, hoarse laughter like wind moaning in an empty tomb, bitter cold, and a pall of palpable evil all about him; this was the only reality Caire knew, had ever known. It was the price for breaking his vow, for betraying his promise, this eternal banishment to the Abyss. He shook himself, moaned in agony, and there came a lessening of the darkness about him. The mocking laughter fled, the cold receded, and the shroud of malice lifted. He sat up slowly, blinking in disbelief at the miraculous commonality of the night dark wood about him. He found his hands and feet cruelly bound, but he was able to shift into a sitting position, leaning against a tree for support, as he studied his situation.

Griff looked up from where he sat on a stump across the clearing, a mocking smile on his face, "awake are you? It is about time! But it gave me all day to read your precious books." He laughed scornfully, "you haven't even had a chance to read them, have you? Interesting stuff, that! And to think I once laughed at the very idea, but I think it is my destiny, my very purpose for being."

Caire said quietly, not knowing from whence the words came, "it was your calling, but you have rejected it. Another has been called in your stead."

"What? You!" laughed Griff all the more, "you might be a fair hand with a sword but you are nothing compared to me! Your precious Master would be a fool to choose you over me."

Caire shook his head vehemently, "it is not a matter of skill but of heart. You have rejected the Master and thus His calling on your life. Your skills will come to naught."

Griff shrugged, "or so you think, the Master is not the only one with power. How do you think we got out of Astoria? I need only choose whom to serve, myself or something greater." He mused ironically, "I never believed there could be anything greater than myself, but I'm happy to be wrong." He snarled at the disbelieving Caire, "and I certainly want no part in your pathetic conception of the so-called Master. His so-called Enemy is far more interesting, not to mention powerful. All he wants is a little blood, which is where you come in." His smile turned cruel, "of course you have the chance to recant of all your foolishness and seek the true power behind the worlds."

Caire gaped at him in astonishment and outrage; Griff smiled condescendingly and said, "I thought as much." He frowned thoughtfully at his captive, "you don't even know what it is you are missing out on, do you?" Caire shook his head as Griff's frown deepened, "that really takes all the fun out of it." With a sigh he hefted one of the books in one hand and a knife in the other, "here," said he, cutting the ropes binding Caire's wrists and placing the book in his lap, "learn what it is that you will be deprived of."

Caire frowned, "what are you doing?"

Griff laughed harshly, "I want to wring as much despair out of your soul ere you die as I can. There is nothing like showing someone what their future might have been had they lived to see it to thrust them into the depths of despair. Read on and then I'll kill you."

Caire shook his head, "I'll gladly read, but never shall I despair. I am in the Master's keeping and have nothing to fear, in life or death, whatever your fell master promises or threatens." Griff shrugged as if it were no concern of his and settled back on his stump while Caire strained his eyes, trying to read in the wan light of the moon. What he read thrilled his heart and he silently prayed that it might yet somehow come to pass.

Adan and Jace drew rein just outside the clearing in which Caire's unicorn said his master lay as dawn crept into the woods a full day after they had left Astoria. The unicorn said that the darkness had lifted and that his master, though a little afraid, was growing more eager and resolute by the hour, over what the beast could not say, but his would-be rescuers found this an encouraging sign. The pair exchanged a nod and then vanished from sight, one circling to left and the other going right.

"It is time," said Griff, eyeing the rising day uneasily. He had drifted off to sleep unintentionally and knew he should have been well on his way already, the fell deed over and done hours ago. Caire looked up with red, bleary eyes from his book, knowing the moment had come, moment for what he did not know, but something was imminent, whether it was his death or something greater, it was about to be revealed.

Jace revealed himself on the far side of the clearing not far from Griff, who gaped at the apparition that suddenly appeared out of thin air, recognizing him as the Brother that had so recently fallen to his death. Griff stuttered, reaching for his sword in terror, "I did not think the Brethren believed in ghosts!"

Jace snorted, "who said anything about ghosts. Release your captive and repent of your evil."

Griff scowled, his sword in hand, "let us rather see if your skills are as great as they were purported to be. The winner may decide what comes of the captive." He frowned in understanding, "those stories, you are one of them, a Shadow!"

It was Jace's turn to start, "you could read The Legends?!"

Adan appeared suddenly at Caire's side, easily freeing the boy from his bonds, said he grimly, "the boy was Called, thus the books would reveal themselves to him, even though he Refused."

Griff snarled, "you can't just steal my hostage!"

Adan grinned, "who will stop me?"

The clearing grew dark, as if a sudden storm had blown in and covered the new risen sun, as a great raven landed in a nearby tree and laughed harshly, "I will, you fool!"

Adan exchanged a horrified look with Jace before grabbing Caire by the shoulders and driving him to his knees, said he in a desperate whisper, "it is now or never lad, there is only One that can protect us from such a Fiend." Caire's eyes were wide with terror but he nodded eagerly. Adan gave him an impish smile and released his firm hold on the awful light that composed his being. The light blazed forth in all its dreadful glory, the pure and unfettered power of He who had wrought the stars, instantly burning everyone and everything in that clearing to nothingness.

The Fiend could not abide that light and fled forthwith while the three Brethren and the unicorns were suddenly flung into the Master's presence, all but Caire finding themselves instantly in the waking world once more. As for Griff, all his renowned skill and confidence could not save him from that awful light, or even from death, which is the eventual lot of all mortal men; neither could his new master spare him from the Abyss, for all of his boasting of power unimaginable and life unending were nothing but empty promises.

Jace exchanged a wondering look with Adan, neither ever tiring of even the briefest glimpse of their Master's presence. After a long, joyous silence, Jace said with a grin, "that is one way to end an argument!"

Adan laughed, "you are the one who could barely control himself at the first; you shouldn't be lecturing me about control."

Jace chuckled, "who was lecturing you? That was quite impressive actually! If only I had thought of that when I encountered our Enemy on that fateful ride back to Astoria."

"You might have blinded him for a moment," said Adan thoughtfully, "but an apprentice of the Shadow has no such ability, it is too dangerous to be left in the hands of one not fully bound to the Shadow."

Jace nodded, "you are right," and added with a smile, "I would have only annoyed him further. A pity, it might have spared Jared's life." They shared a merry laugh at the memory but sobered as they remembered Griff's grim fate.

Adan shook his head, "he refused, even at the last."

Jace nodded sadly, "it is ever our choice to do so."

As they mounted for the long ride back to Astoria, Jace asked rakishly, "so how are we going to explain this to my sister?"

Adan smiled benignly, "explain what? Caire should be back soon and Griff left of his own accord. She need know no more than that, save that we shall be telling her with whom to apprentice the boy."

Jace raised an eyebrow, "and who will that be?"

Adan shivered, "I am afraid it will be me."

Jace grinned, "are you ready to be all grown up and responsible then?"

Adan snorted, "far more than you, at least I've had a few years of experience while you were on vacation."

"You've always been and will always be the most responsible of the two of us," said Jace half amused, half proud, "is that any surprise? But it is strange that you've been at this far longer than I have yet I was recruited before you!"

Adan laughed, "at least you won't be the least experienced amongst the Shadow any longer."

"As long as I don't have to impersonate a Student for a while, I will be well content," said Jace.

"But you are the best suited to it," said Adan with a grin, "and I fear it shall always be so."

Jace said in faux gravity, "we shall see, dear friend, we shall see."

"We shall indeed," said Adan with a laugh, urging his mount to a faster pace, hoping to reach Astoria before Caire's return.

The pair returned swiftly to Astoria and sought an audience with the Lady first thing the next morning, dragging Jared along in their wake, hoping their fearless Captain knew how to handle the Lady in such a circumstance. She stared at them agape, a grievous occurrence which seemed to happen only in the presence of her brother, therefore she vowed to get him out of Astoria, and soon. Said the Lady when she again found voice, "my most talented Student has run off, one of my best Messengers is never to be seen again, and my newest Apprentice has decided to join your merry circus?" She stared at them all aghast, "I am of a mind to banish you all on general principle!"

Jared bowed deeply and said with a smile, "you would not be the first Lady of Astoria to contemplate such an option, my Lady."

She slumped in her chair, "I suppose it would do no good?"

Jared's smile deepened, "nay Lady, it would not; we would serve even so."

Regaining her composure, she sighed, "I have no choice but to do as you ask?"

Jared shook his head, "you have a choice, but it would be quite unwise to do otherwise."

"Very well," said she, "when Caire returns, let him be Adan's responsibility. Now return to your duties, whatever they may be!" They bowed deeply and left her presence but continued to trouble her thoughts for some time thereafter.

Jared said to his juniors once they were alone in the corridor, "that went quite well, actually."

Jace gaped, "then how bad is it when things go poorly?"

Jared said somberly, "ugly indeed. I must return to my post, farewell!" He dashed off, leaving the pair to exchange a look of pure dread, hoping such a mission never fell to them. Adan then led onwards to the library where they found a small nook in which to conceal themselves for some much needed catching up. It was well after dark when they finally emerged, feeling encouraged and eager for their next adventure.

Adan said quietly, "I had best return to Caire's quarters, he may return any moment."

Jace grinned, "at least you won't have to sneak him out of the dungeon."

Adan laughed heartily, "why can you never do anything the easy way?"

Jace shrugged sheepishly, "if it were up to me, trust me, I would try!"

They parted then, Adan in search of his apprentice and Jace patiently awaiting the servant's approach, having glimpsed the man at the far end of the hall. Said the anxious man to Jace, "the Lady has an urgent mission for you sir, if you would follow me?"

Without a word they hastened to the Lady, who awaited them in her sitting room though she was making no use of its titular function, too anxious to sit at ease, she paced its length incessantly until Jace appeared. He had hardly finished his bows before she burst out, "I have an impossible mission for you. It involves a princess and a black dragon! Only you can't marry the princess if you are successful..."

Jace tried his best to calm his distraught sister, said he, "easy my Lady, whatever the quest, I shall accept it. Tell me all you know and then you had better retire, for it has been a trying day."

His unwanted concern roused her fury and suddenly she turned on him, much her old self again, snapped she, "never mind me! Go save the girl!" She thrust a letter into his hands and said, "that's all I know, now go!"

He bowed, gave her an impish grin in farewell, and immediately set forth on a true storybook quest, knowing his sister would recover her composure, perhaps the sooner with him absent from the castle. His smile deepened as he vanished into the night, traveling as easily as if it were midday.

A good King's daughter, albeit her father's fiefdom was smaller than the holdings of many a minor lord in other realms, had gone missing and soon thereafter came a challenge from a dreadful source. She had read too many stories, being an only child, her father's darling, and her mother having died when she was but a small child; she was left with her imagination, her books, and no supervision, a dangerous combination in a lass with an adventurous streak and none to advise or caution her, for her father indulged all her whims and encouraged anything he thought might make her happy. Only too late did he realize the dire consequences that might result. She had run off one night, eloping as she called it, but there was no gentleman involved; who need worry about the minor details when an adventure was in the making? Besides, she was a Princess and undoubtedly she'd find her Prince in the Wilds somewhere, perhaps enchanted and in desperate need of a magic kiss. Happily ever after was so close she could smell it.

But it was not happily ever after she smelled, though perhaps it was an adventure. She had accidentally stumbled into the lair and clutches of a black dragon, the most dangerous, cunning, and evil creature to inhabit the known world. He chained her up in the back of his cave, offered a challenge to all comers, and then fell promptly asleep while awaiting the arrival of the so-called heroes, but no heroes came, none were mad enough to face such a monster for so little gain. They would think long and hard before riding to her rescue even were she the only daughter of the greatest King in the world, but the only daughter of a minor King? Such paltry reward was not worth the risk of a long and terrible death at the hands of such a monster. The King sent a rider immediately to Astoria, hoping the compassion of the Brethren might avail where avarice and foolhardiness would not. His prayers were answered far sooner than he had ever hoped they might be.

Jace arrived as swiftly as only a Shadow could, traveling night and day with the unicorn's uncanny speed, having no fear of physical barriers that might bar or delay their passage. They seemed to know instinctively where the girl was being held and it was a small matter for Jace to ghost through the side of the cave, free the rather bored princess, and send her safely back to her father in a burst of inexplicable light, all without waking the beast that slumbered on unawares.

Jace frowned in consternation, wondering what should be done about the dragon. He could easily kill the beast while it slept, but that was far from just, knowing only one side of the story as he did. But neither could he simply walk away and let it prey upon other unwary folk. So he did the only reasonable thing, if such can ever be called reasonable when a black dragon is involved: he approached the head and wakened the beast. The creature snorted in disgust, snuffled its nose as if trying to catch some faint scent and seemed to be listening intently, but the eyes stared vacantly into the darkness; Jace was minded eerily of Brie after her misadventures in the dungeon.

Smoke spiraled from the monster's nostrils as it growled, "who is there? Reveal yourself! Where is the Princess?"

Jace said in astonishment, "you are blind!"

The creature turned its great head immediately in the direction from whence the proclamation had come, its nose twitching like a rabbit's trying to catch his scent. Hissed the serpent, "why can I not smell you? I know you took the princess, her scent has grown faint indeed, yet how is it you mask yours so well?"

Jace said evenly, "some secrets are not mine to reveal, but yes, the princess is gone, safely returned to her father. Now what of you? Why did you take the girl? What would have come of her had no challengers come? What are your future intentions towards mankind?"

The dragon hissed in annoyance, "I want to be left alone! The pesky creature came snooping about while I was abroad, found her in the very back of the cave, I did, the impertinence! I tried to shoo her away but she would not go, I had no choice but to chain her up, else I might have accidentally squashed her in my sleep. She wrote the ransom demands herself, as obviously I can neither read nor write, and then sat there sulking as each day passed and no hero came to her rescue." He chuckled, "I must thank you for rescuing me from the girl! I don't know what would have come of the matter had no one answered the challenge." His unseeing eyes narrowed, "just between you and me, I wouldn't recommend marrying the creature, she is still a bit...flighty, immature, and demanding, as it were."

Jace smiled, "I have no intention of marrying anyone, least of all her. All I knew was that a princess was imperiled by a dragon, I had no idea it was actually the other way around." Sobering he asked, "how long have you been blind?"

The creature shook his head, "since birth, my mother hid me and fed me when all my kin might well have made an end of me from the start, invalid that I was. Eventually I learned to hunt and navigate by smell, touch, and sound, but it is no easy existence. I would be an outcast among my people if ever I ventured into society, but my mother alone knows my secret and keeps it still. It is a tedious life; I want to explore, to learn, to socialize, but alas, I can do little but eke out a living and hide from my kin.

Jace frowned, "you sound more a green dragon than a black!"

The dragon chuckled again, "you cannot judge a dragon by his hide lad, you must judge him by his heart, as you do all other folk." He said quietly, "I would appreciate if you kept this little secret just between ourselves."

"What secret?" asked Jace with a broad smile, laying a hand upon the creature's shoulder.

A flash of light passed between them and the dragon gasped, "what have you done?" But the boy was gone. The dragon blinked in wonder, glancing about in pure joy, but never did he know the face of the man who first gave him the chance to look upon the world, but ever after did he hold a special place for mankind in his heart, ever watchful of his kinfolk, interceding on the behalf of men when he could.

The girl was unhappily reunited with her father, forced to contrive some other adventure for her own amusement, but the King had learned his lesson and was not long in finding ways to teach the girl a little sense, in possessing which, he hoped she might actually live happily ever after.

Jace found himself in a place of pure light, he knew it at once as a bubble of ephemeral reality created by the Master solely for a certain purpose and then it would evaporate like dew in the morning. It was in one such bubble that he had found himself after events in the dungeon of Astoria, what seemed ages ago. He was not surprised to find Caire in this one. The boy smiled joyously in welcome but seemed rather sheepish, a little sad, and very eager all at once, said he in perplexity, "I do not know what to do!"

Jace glanced about for a moment as wonderful memories nearly overwhelmed his senses, he could certainly understand the boy's dilemma. His entire life had been one of repression and fear, and at last he had found something that was far beyond any mortal's comprehension of love, peace, hope, and joy. He felt it his duty to Return, yet having found such wonder at last, he was reluctant to abandon it for a life of toil, sorrow, loneliness, violence, and death.

Jace said quietly, "I understand. Do not let guilt or some perceived necessity of duty drive you to actions you will one day regret. You have been Called, yes, but that also means you have a choice. You can Go and none will think the worse of you." He smiled sadly, "though I had looked forward to knowing you more." He laughed heartily, "though I suppose I shall have all eternity to do just that after all is finished."

Caire glanced about in wonder, "I never thought it would be this hard. I thought I had made up my mind, but after experiencing this, I don't think I can go back."

A familiar voice chuckled, "this? This is nothing lad, this is just an illusion, a dream as it were; far greater than this waits Beyond. If you struggle in Returning after this, you had best Go."

Jace exchanged greetings with Baye and then both turned to Caire, said he in astonishment, "there's more!" His elders laughed and smiled in amusement as Caire shook his head in disbelief, "it is all too wonderful!" He frowned slightly but smiled heartily, "you two are doing a lousy job of convincing me to Return."

Baye laughed, "it is not our job to convince you of anything, but rather to help you discern what it is your heart desires above all else."

Caire nodded thoughtfully, "well, you have done just that, farewell my friends, until we meet again beyond Time." They exchanged a round of joyous smiles before the light intensified, washing over them like a river in flood, consuming and merging with all lesser watercourses in its path.

Jace felt himself awash in that wondrous light, fully content to remain so forever, but that was not to be. He felt his Master's presence before him and heard these words, "child, are you willing to die?"

Asked the boy, "have I not done so a hundred times already, my Lord?"

"No," came the amused reply, "perhaps you have died physically times beyond count, but your mortal identity lives on. You have not died to yourself, and thus are not yet fully Mine. Will you be content to serve still when you have neither past nor future among mortal men?"

Jace felt a cold fist clench his heart, but he knew what his answer must be, "you have called me to abandon everything in Your service Lord, this is no different, though it shall perhaps be the greatest trial I have yet faced." Tears stung his eyes, "I will need Your strength to survive this, my Lord."

Such a wave of Joy and Love washed over him, that Jace felt his being must burst with it, but the Voice sang out, "I am ever your strength and refuge child, remember that!"

The next moment all was light and chaos.

Jace lay in a tumbled heap, unsure which, if any, of the radiant appendages were his. He could not help but laugh as Adan's surprised and annoyed voice called out from somewhere beneath him, "Jace! This is not funny."

Suddenly the world shook, but it was no earthquake, merely Adan and Baye righting themselves, leaving Jace to crumple limply to the floor, where he lay for a moment, paralyzed with laughter. The light dimmed as each mastered himself until only three ordinary seeming men stood in the tiny chamber.

Adan glanced about in dismay, "where is Caire, and what are you two reprobates doing here?"

Baye shook his head, "he has Gone."

Adan was incredulous, "after all that? The Lady will be furious!"

Jace said quietly, "perhaps murderous." The others gave him a curious look.

Baye asked, "what is it lad?"

Jace met his eyes, his gaze a mix of ruefulness, eagerness, and fear at what was to come. Not fear of the actual events, but doubt as to his ability to handle the situation.

"Easy lad," said Baye, a look of understanding in his eye, "you've survived far worse. This will only be the end of all you thought you were, not who you actually are, and it will allow you to become who the Master intends you to be. You have not come so far only to fail at the last." He grinned, "besides, we already know who and what you are, even if you don't know it yourself. This is but the death of a mask, a phantom, of the pride and reputation you once knew in mortal life." He grew sober, "and you won't face it alone." He smiled wryly, "I have lived well beyond my natural years and people might start to notice if I don't drop dead soon."

Adan nodded thoughtfully, "I had always wondered how we maintain our identities throughout the ages if we do not have a normal lifespan. We must switch them out every so often to avoid notice, but in doing so we no longer have a past, at least among mortal men."

"Exactly," said Baye with a smile, "we'll need your help in this little charade, I don't think it will be a quiet matter as it usually is." He turned to Jace and smiled grimly, "I fear we are in the presence of a desperate and vengeful criminal. It shall be our job to bring him to justice." Jace smiled in spite of himself, eager now to witness the spectacle that would attend his soon to be infamous demise.

The Lady stood in her main audience chamber, the Council of Six seated before her, wondering what to do. The evidence against her brother was speculative at best, but there was so much of it that it did not bode well for the young Messenger; his relationship to the Lady also made them question her objectivity in this matter. He was implicated in the disappearance of two Students and an Apprentice, and as the days passed and none of the three made an appearance, they began to fear the worst. The only fact still in his favor was that he had not obviously broken Oath. The Lady knew the mysterious underpinnings of some of the accusations but could not use such facts to speak in his defense, knowing herself forbidden from broaching the matter before the uninitiated. Perhaps his comrades could shed sufficient light on the subject to at least appease the Council until matters could be settled quietly, rather than creating the scandal she felt brewing.

She turned to her advisors and said, "you are correct, the evidence is great indeed. Let us call the witnesses to testify, and then upon further deliberation, we shall confront Jace himself."

The witnesses were summarily summoned, standing before the Council to give their testimony of the night in question, the last anyone in Astoria had seen of Ace, Griff, and Caire. The men warding the gate that night gave their testimony, verifying the Griff, Caire, and Jace had all been abroad that night.

Jared was called forth, as he had been the one to confront each as they returned to the keep. Jared was grim as he stood before the Council, wondering how best to answer without betraying the Shadow, yet also sensing there was something far deeper at stake here than the boy's reputation. Said he at last, "there was apparently some altercation between Ace and Griff in the weapons yard, after which the latter fled the keep; Jace followed in close pursuit, and Caire crept after, apparently curious as to what was going on. Jace returned first, followed by Caire, and then Griff, whose horse was spent and frothed with sweat. I sent the two lads back to their rooms and later helped the injured Ace to bed. I never saw any of the three lads in question again, but I heard rumors of an altercation or some such excitement between the three late that night and then come morning all three apparently vanished."

"Thank you Jared," said the Lady gravely, wondering how to extricate her brother when he was certainly involved in the matter, whatever it was.

Adan was then called to stand before the Council, a position he took with some awkwardness, still relatively young for one of the Brethren and far from experienced in standing before such an august body, especially to testify upon a matter of which he could not speak freely.

"Adan," said the Lady gravely, "you appeared before me with Jared and Jace soon after the disappearance of the three in question. What can you tell us of this matter?"

Adan offered the Lady and the Council the appropriate bows and began, "I returned to Astoria late upon the night in question and found myself in the wing of the castle containing the Student quarters. I found Caire in the room that Griff and Ace once shared, Ace was dead in his bed, apparently of some grievous wound acquired from an altercation in the practice yard; Griff was gone. The Apprentice said Griff had vacated the room shortly before he entered it, shortly after the death of Ace. I was joined by Jace, and after speaking with the apprentice, we sent him back to his room, a decision we immediately regretted, as Griff was still unaccounted for. We pursued the boy, but we found the room empty, the apprentice seemingly vanished without a trace. We rode in pursuit, feeling the boy was in grave peril, but as we testified before you Lady, we returned empty handed."

The Lady frowned, "where is Ace's body? What came of the others?"

Adan's gaze dropped to the floor, "that I cannot say, my Lady."

She pierced him with a furious gaze, "cannot or will not? You do understand, that withholding testimony in this matter may result in your being accused as well?"

Adan met her gaze evenly, said he, "I understand Lady and will accept the consequences of my actions, but I can say no more upon the subject and beg that you press me no further."

"Very well," said she, "we shall let the matter rest at present, but I do not promise that you will not be called upon to testify again in this matter or spared the consequences of your refusal to testify should they be warranted."

He bowed deeply, "I understand, my Lady."

She dismissed the witnesses and then turned to the Council, "well?"

They shook their heads, even more perplexed than she, knowing nothing of the Shadow or its workings. Said the Council's spokesman at last, "let Jace be summoned to give an account of himself. He was involved, there is no doubt as to that; the only question is, how?"

The Lady dispatched Baye to summon Jace, feeling that the company of his old friend and mentor, as well as one of his comrades in the Shadow, would be just the thing to fortify him for what was to come; hoping against hope that he could somehow vindicate them all. This was not a matter she wanted all and sundry looking into too deeply. Baye smiled grimly at the Lady's request, knowing things would turn out far differently than any of them could imagine. He bowed to the Lady and said, "I shall do as you ask Lady, but do not be surprised if things take a rather unexpected turn." He smiled eagerly, "do not mourn overly much either, it will be for the best." She gave him a perplexed frown but said nothing as he made his final bow and vanished from her presence to fetch Jace.

He found Jace waiting for him upon the great lawn, sword in hand. There were a few others scattered about the sward, inadvertent witnesses to one of the greatest scandals to confront the Brethren in recorded history. Baye said for all to hear, "you don't need to go through with this lad, the Council simply wants to hear your testimony."

Jace hefted his sword and set himself in a fighting stance, "I am sure they do, but I will not give them that privilege, not willingly, if I can help it."

Baye said gravely, but had his own sword out and at the ready, "don't do this lad! There can be no turning back once you have begun."

Jace smiled grimly, "that is why I must go through with it."

He leapt upon his former mentor, sword flashing in the sun. Jace had a natural talent and had been well trained, but Baye had always been a fair hand with a sword and had honed his skills to near perfection over the years. Jace could hold his own against the man, but Baye should have eventually prevailed, had everything been equal, but things were far from what they seemed, thus it was that after a spectacular display of swordsmanship, the renowned Messenger lay gasping out his life on the sward while Jace crumpled to the ground, a ruined and aged husk of his former self. Four horrified Warriors rushed in to disarm the boy, but instead found a wizened old man wheezing in triumph beside the fallen Messenger, Baye smiled grimly and gasped, "it was a good match, but I am afraid neither of us came out the victor..." He trailed off as his eyes glazed in death.

Kent studied Jace's handiwork for a moment and then said in grim disappointment, "you are summoned to stand before the Council. Whatever the former charges were, there can be no doubt now. Come!"

They lifted the now elderly Jace to his feet and very nearly carried the bent and withered old man into the presence of the Lady and the Council of Six, the former occupants of the lawn trailing in their wake as witnesses to the tragedy. The Lady stared at her brother, disbelief and horror written in her eyes, but she managed to maintain a dispassionate sternness that impressed everyone, Jace not least of all. She spoke, her voice as sharp, cold, and hard as the executioner's axe, "there can be no defense this time Jace, you murdered your mentor before a dozen witnesses, not to mention breaking Oath! Now tell us what happened to Ace, Griff, and Caire and what came of you during your eighty year absence. Eighty years, Jace!"

He met her gaze evenly, trying desperately to neither laugh nor cry at the combined irony and tragedy of the situation. Said he stonily, "they are dead and will never more walk the waking world; no more will I tell you of the tale or my part in it. As to my own vanishment, I have already told you all I can."

She asked harshly, "is that all? Will you not repent of your evil or seek to mitigate the consequences by cooperating?"

He laughed hollowly, "what is there to mitigate? Justice demands my head and justice must and will be satisfied. As to your missing boys, they made their own choices and it is not my place to tell the tale, but I did have my part in their disappearance."

"Very well," said she, her voice like steel, "I hereby condemn you to death; to be carried out immediately. Have you anything further to say?"

He smiled grimly, "let Adan and Hawk see to my remains, and those of Baye too."

She said in horror, "you dare demand to be interred alongside the man you have brutally murdered?"

Jace snorted irreverently, "he would likely find the irony amusing, but do as you wish Lady."

She turned her back on him and said coldly, "take him away!"

His escort bowed deeply to the Lady and the Six and then led him away. She held her composure long enough to interview the remaining witnesses, to exchange closing remarks with the Six, and then see everyone safely out of the room, at which point she collapsed into a weeping heap, Baye's strange last words ringing in the back of her mind in a mocking chorus. How was she not to mourn after such a tragedy? Her own brother! Her most competent Messenger! Betrayal of not only herself and all the Brethren, but of the Master Himself! Her tears ceased and suddenly she frowned, or was it?

They marched him down to the dungeons, the halls and stairwells clogged with curious onlookers, who were both horrified and intrigued at both the betrayal and the sudden changes wrought in the onetime boy, as the once storied man was led to his ignominious end in the depths of the keep. Jace shuddered in remembrance at the revulsion and contempt in his sister's eyes as she condemned him to death and then coldly turned her back as he was led away. He saw grim looks of surprise, horror, and amusement on the faces of those he passed. But perhaps it was the grave disappointment in Kent's demeanor that smote him most sore; the man had been a friend and a respected comrade, and now Jace would be nothing but a traitor forever after in his mind. A magpie chirruped gaily on his shoulder, unseen by all others, "nay lad, only while this life lasts. Eternity has a way of righting all wrongs. Your supposed infamy shall survive a century or two perhaps, but then will be resigned to the old tales and eventually forgotten." The bird vanished and Jace smiled grimly as they led him through the final door into the cellblock.

At the far end lay another door, which Kent unlocked, and then the company descended a short flight of stairs. At the bottom lay only a small open space with a tiled floor and a drain in the middle. Jace was forced onto his knees, seemingly defiant to the last but it was more his aged knees no longer bent as easily as they had only an hour before, and made to kneel with his head over a heavy wooden block. Kent intoned sadly, "may the Master have mercy on your soul." The thwack of the ax echoed in the small chamber as justice was meted out upon the unrepentant traitor. The body was wrapped in a shroud and carried out to the courtyard, where a wagon waited with another corpse awaiting burial. The grim guards deposited their burden in the wagon bed and asked if they might be of further service.

Adan shook his head, "nay, we'll see to the rest. Thank you for your assistance." They exchanged grim nods with the former escort and drove the wagon out of the city.

Once they were free of the castle, Hawk commented, "I've never seen so many people packing the courtyard!"

Adan smiled slightly, though trying his best to look grim, "they wanted to stand witness that the execution had truly been carried out, that the Lady did not manage some trick at the last moment to spare her brother; though we know that is quite impossible, there are many who would not believe it so. It was also quite a historic event and all wanted to say they were part of it; it is not often one of the Brethren will turn on another, especially a man he very nearly counted as a father."

They lapsed into silence until they were well away from the city and found a quiet place in the woods where they might supposedly inter their friends. The Lady had recanted at the last, allowing Jace's final request, at least if Adan and Hawk were not appalled by the idea. They concurred with its sensibility and readily accepted the grim duty, but they had no intention of burying the mortal remains of their comrades. They set about the grizzly task of unwrapping the bodies and sent a pulse of light into each still form. Baye started awake while Jace's severed head miraculously settled into its natural place as his advanced age vanished, the boy blinking in wonder. He looked both sheepish and joyous as he exchanged greetings with his friends.

Jace snorted a laugh, "how does it feel to be the one time friends of the greatest traitor in Astoria's history?"

Baye grinned, "I wouldn't know, I didn't live to see the trial."

Adan smiled, "it wasn't much of a trial. He pretty much ignored the Lady and died an unrepentant fiend, if an ancient one. You really should have been a better role model and maybe this would not have happened."

Baye shrugged, "he had his own choice in the matter."

Their banter suddenly ceased as a silent figure approached, but they all drew a deep sigh of relief to see that it was Jared. He smiled at their discomfiture and said, "why do you all look so nervous? It is not as if you are refusing to properly bury a notorious scoundrel and his unfortunate victim."

The unfortunate victim scowled slightly, "I fought quite valiantly, I thought."

Jace grinned, "not quite valiantly enough." He sobered and asked Jared, "how go things with the Lady and with the populace of Astoria in general?"

"She hid it well during the proceedings, but I think this affair initially wounded your sister quite cruelly," said Jared quietly, "but I saw her before I left and she seemed far more thoughtful than crushed. Perhaps she suspects all is not as it seems? As to the rest of Astoria, you have certainly made a name for yourself lad."

Jace shook his head but smiled wryly, "if I can't be famous, at least I'm infamous." He frowned, "now what?"

Jared nodded, "that is why I am come, two of you are dead to history yet must continue on in this peculiar service. Baye didn't have the decency to die of old age so had to be disposed of in another fashion while your former ego needed to die that you might fully live in our Master's service, rather than remaining a slave of your past. As none of you have ever had to die to mortal perception before, I will give you a few pointers."

Later that evening, Hawk and Adan drove the wagon back to Astoria, never mentioning the supposed location of the graves, as was the custom amongst the Brethren. Jared made his own surreptitious way back to the city after passing along some helpful advice, leaving only the ghosts of the past to return in their own time and manner. Each chose a new face and a new name, guising themselves as young Messengers just returned from a tour of the Wilds.

Baye said with a chuckle as they rode back to the city, "it will be nice to be thought young again."

Jace shook his head, "are you so sure? Everyone will be questioning your wisdom and ability for the next hundred years or so."

Baye frowned, scratching his chin thoughtfully, "I had forgotten about that, but no one will know us or remember us, so we likely won't have too many in-depth chats with those outside the Shadow, unless it pertains to our mission of course."

Jace smiled slightly, having lived in obscurity most of his life, he wondered what it would be like to return thence, but knew his Master would provide all he needed and more. He urged his unicorn to a faster pace and eagerly returned to Astoria and his duty there.

The room was dark, only the bright stars outside the window disturbing the gloom. Brie stood at the window, looking thoughtfully over the sleeping city. She felt a presence beside her and turned without surprise to see her brother leaning on the windowsill beside her. Said she with a smile, "that was quite a show this afternoon. I assume Baye was in on the plot?"

He nodded and met her questioning gaze with his own grin, "the man had refused to lie down and die of old age so to avoid awkward questions, we found another way to go about it. He'll be by shortly, introducing you to his younger, less experienced self." He shifted slightly and his visage changed utterly, she gasped quietly, as he continued, "as will I." He left the window, bowed deeply, and said, "we are ever at your service, my Lady."

She bowed her head in warm acceptance and then said with a laugh, "even when it seems you are not. That is not how I would have chosen to get out of that particular predicament, but I must say, it was quite effective." She frowned then, "I know a little of what came of Caire and Griff, but what of this Ace, I never met him?"

Jace grinned, "oh, that was me."

She shook her head and sighed, "I suppose I had best get used to this sort of thing then?"

His laugh was answer enough.

Legends of the Brethren:

### Volume I

Published by Susan Skylark at Smashwords

Copyright 2012 Susan Skylark

Revised 2014

Table of Contents:

In the Beginning

A Council of Wyrms

A Family Affair

A Fool Propheteth Little

A Learned Mind

A Matter of Conscience

A Reluctant Queen

A Wish Fulfilled

An Eye For an Eye

Art Critics

As the Perishable Beasts

Before a Fall

Doomed

Endures All Things

Friends of Old

Many Sorrows Borne

Meant For Evil

No Greater Love

No Such Thing as Accidents

Of Poets and Heroes

In the Beginning

Long ago, when the world was young and men still walked in innocence, an ancient king made an alliance with the terrible god of war. In exchange for the life of his maiden daughter, he would receive power to conquer all the kingdoms of men and have dominion over all mortal lives. The night was dark with neither star nor moon giving light or hope to those who gathered upon the face of that forbidden hill to commence with their evil deed. The king had gathered all of his generals and advisors to stand as witnesses. The girl was brought forward and the hood removed from her head. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she stared with pleading eyes into the cold and remorseless depths of her father's eyes. She saw neither love nor regret there, only a thirst for power beyond the reach of mortal ken. He drew forth a cruel knife from a sheath of black leather. Very soon the alliance would be sealed and no power on earth could withstand him. He approached the girl with a cruel and mirthless smile and raised the blade to strike.

He was thrown back from the girl and blinded by a cold light, and all standing around the pair fell to the ground in fear. Like a bolt of lightning, a bright and terrible figure stood between the man and his prey. The king regained his footing with a sneer and a triumphant laugh. "You have no authority here," he scoffed, "be gone before I become violent."

The light receded slightly and those standing about could make out a vaguely equine shape amidst the glow. The figure reared up on its hind legs and pawed the air. He appeared in the form of a horse but with the awe reserved for a charging bull or roaring lion. Then he spoke, "you must not do this terrible thing. You will forever tear apart the laws that bind the world together."

"I will do as I please," scowled the king, "and there is nothing you can do to stop me."

"If you are set upon this course I cannot stop you by force, but perhaps I can offer you an exchange," said the figure.

"What can you possibly offer me," growled the king with the light of avarice in his eyes.

"The foul demon with whom you are dealing demands innocent blood for your vile contract, so be it! Take mine instead of the girl's," said the mysterious figure.

"Yours!" gasped the king, "but of what advantage is that to you?"

"To ransom the life of this dear child shall be gain enough," said the figure.

"Very well," said the king. "I have a feeling my master will be quite pleased with the exchange. What is one small child when the blood of his enemy is laid at his feet? What are your terms?"

"Give me one hour to bear this child to safety, then I will return hither and you may do as we have agreed," said the figure.

"How do I know you will not steal the child and disappear?" asked the king.

"You know very well I do not lie," roared the figure. He swept the child onto his back and as the light disappeared over the rim of the hill called back, "in one hour I shall return."

For a time the girl clung silently to the back of her rescuer but as the horror of what she had so nearly escaped sunk in she began to sob uncontrollably. "Do not weep little one," said the figure, "you are safe and all will be well."

"How can you say that?" sobbed the girl, "evil is about to be unleashed upon the earth and no one will be able to stop it."

"I can," said he softly. A sense of immense peace fell upon the girl and dried her tears. Shortly, they approached a small cottage by the edge of a little stream that chattered invisibly in the night. A woman emerged from the door and wrapped a blanket around the quivering form of the girl. She bowed once to the retreating figure and took the child into the house. The girl fell into bed and knew no more that night. The woman stared into the darkness, tears streaming down her cheeks. Within the hour agreed upon, the figure returned to that forsaken hilltop. His light was dimmed to the slight flickering of a dying candle. He stood before the men with a drooping head but a righteous fire blazed in his eyes. The king laughed him to scorn, drew his blade, and approached the apparently cowed creature. Steel flickered in the light as the blade struck home. The light dimmed and went out. As if from a vast distance, a great wailing cry rent the night, as if the earth itself had been mortally wounded by the blow. A wind came howling out of the west and clouds blotted out the sky. Darkness engulfed the world, lightning flashed in the heavens, and thunder rolled as if all creation reared up in fury at the atrocity that had occurred. The hill itself began to roll like a wave on the sea and split in two. The men were thrown from their feet and retreated in confusion and fear from the horror before them. Their horses reared and snorted, broke loose, and disappeared into the storm.

"What have you done!" roared one general over the wind. "

I have loosed the wrath of the heavens," screamed the king. A panic spread among them and all fled into the darkness.

The next morning, the girl rode up the accursed hill hoping to find some trace of her rescuer. She found the vile blade broken in two, but no sign of the mysterious glowing figure. She dismounted and peered with dismay into the gaping chasm that had once been the heart of the hill. "What is it you seek?" asked a voice behind her.

With a shriek of pure joy she flung her arms around the figure that now stood at her shoulder, glowing like the sun. "You are alive!" she said.

"Yes," said he simply.

"But what of last night?" asked she, "I was sure you had been slain. What of that horrible shriek and the dreadful darkness?"

"My life cannot be taken against my will. Before anything ever was and after all has passed into nothing, I was and ever will be. I laid down my life not only for you, but for all things that would have been utterly destroyed by the acts of last night. Your blood would have strengthened that foul demon beyond anything he has yet achieved. My blood offered willing in exchange for another's broke his power. What began in selfishness and evil, ended in selflessness and love, which alone has power to conquer the darkness. He has been vanquished but not destroyed. He still lurks in the world, full of malice and hate and ready to assist any who give themselves over to a lust for power and destruction. Until last night, mankind had lived in peace and harmony with one another and with all creation, but that peace has been shattered. Man has shown himself vulnerable to evil, willing to place himself above all else, even his own children. It is no longer safe to assume that all men are good in and of themselves. Each individual must hereafter make a decision to follow what is right and good, or to follow his own selfish path into evil and darkness. From the dawn of mankind, it was given into your hands to decide whether to pursue goodness or darkness. A member of your race has chosen the ultimate evil and with his fall, all are now required to make a decision that once came naturally to all."

The girl fell sobbing at his feet, feeling in herself the dreadful truth she had just heard spoken. It was as if something inside her had been torn or ripped away and she was left with a gaping hole, much like the defiled face of the hill. Looking up into his eyes, she said, "I have lost something within myself. I am no longer whole. I have a longing, a desire for something. Something, though I know not what. Something greater than myself."

"Yes," said he, "your whole race now shares that same longing. And with what you fill that hole will determine the course of your life, and the lives of all those around you, from now and ever onwards. Choose carefully."

"Can I choose you?" she asked hesitantly.

A smile crept over his face and the whole hillside seemed to laugh with joy. "Of course," he said. "After last night, the world is hurting and needs to be told these things which you have just heard. I need someone to go forth and tell them. Bring your horse forward."

The girl ran over to the horse which had strayed and was happily nibbling at weeds upon the far side of the hill. She led the beast towards the figure. The stallion pulled back against the reins and nearly reared, trying to avoid the glowing figure before him. "Do not be afraid my simple beast," said the figure, "from now and ever onwards, you and your descendants will no longer be considered simple." The figure turned his side towards the girl and for the first time she saw the gaping wound in his side. From it dribbled a steady stream of silver blood. She gasped in horror and drew back. "Do not be afraid," he said, "this is the price of last night's adventure. Though much was lost, much good also came of it. Take a drop of my blood on your finger and place it on the horse's tongue." Hesitantly the girl complied. Almost reverently she poked a finger into the sliver stream and placed a drop of the precious fluid into the horse's mouth.

An indignant snort was followed by a blinding flash. She no longer held a horse by the reins but a unicorn. The sorrel coat had become white as the snow; wisdom and fire were in his once placid and simple eyes. Cloven hooves of silver had replaced his single hooves of grey. A silver horn protruded proudly from his forehead. He shook his head in disgust a few times and looked with dismay at the girl and the glowing figure.

"Remove his bit," laughed the figure. The girl complied and the unicorn seemed much happier. "Now it is your turn," said he. The girl looked with shock and disgust at the gaping hole in the figure's side and turned pleading eyes to his. "If you really wish to serve me, you must taste of my blood," he said, "by doing so you are binding yourself to me and my purposes. You will gain much in wisdom and abilities but in doing so you are also swearing to serve me, even with the forfeit of your life be it necessary. Do you wish to proceed?"

She nodded and did as she was bidden. She seemed to grow taller and a thirst for knowledge grew within her. A deeper understanding of things once hidden to mortal mind blossomed in her heart. She had changed as much as the horse.

"Now," said the figure," I will tell you of things long hidden to the race of men, things vital to your quest. The demon of war, to whom your father nearly sacrificed you, was once my greatest servant. But he desired things beyond his grasp and made an attempt to supplant me as The Master of All. He was banished from my presence and ever since has made war upon all that is good and wonderful. He has claimed lordship over all creation and still yearns for the power he cannot have. Until last night, he had made little progress in his war against me, but last night there came a breaking. Men, who had once lived in peace, have heeded his call and some have broken away from me seeking the power promised by their new master. Now all must decide whether to follow him or me. None can sit this out. By stepping aside, they are simply declaring themselves for him, if only by doing nothing. This is war a war that has raged since before the world began, there can be no civilians. He will devour everything if all stand aside and let him. I will only do so much. I am Master of all things, but I have given all sapient creatures a choice, and upon that freedom I will not trespass. They must choose what is right or what is evil. I will not infringe upon their decisions for good or ill. If they choose the right, I can assist them, but if they choose the evil I can only stand aside and weep for their ill choices and dire fate. That is why I could not interfere directly in the affairs of last night. It is up to you, and those like you: my servants, to pursue evil in whatever form or guise it takes and do what you must to defeat it and to defend the innocent. You must spread word of this through all lands and to all peoples. It will not be easy and there will be great heartache along the way but you will never be alone; it must be done or evil will consume the world and all within it. Last night a deadly blow was dealt to my enemy, but he is still lurking about and still very powerful. In the end, he will be completely vanquished but until that final day, you are all that stands between the world and devastation. A rent has been created in the hearts of men. They will yearn for me and try to fill the gap with all sorts of vain things. You must tell them the truth of what you have seen. Last night, the innocence of man was lost, but by my blood it can be healed."

The girl had been held spellbound by the tale. The light around the figure dimmed a little, just enough so that she could make out his full form. She had glimpsed a horse-like figure last night and this morning, but now saw him fully, as if a fog had lifted. He was similar to the unicorn standing at her shoulder, but taller and more terrible; his horn and hooves were of gold and he glowed with the very light of the sun.

"Your faithful steed will be the father of the race of mortal unicorns and you shall be the first among a great and future throng of my servants. I will hereafter withdraw from wandering abroad in the world but I will be found by those who seek me. Go forth and teach what you have been taught, fight evil, and protect the innocent." With that he seemed to glow brighter and as the sun topped the head of the hill, vanished into the blinding rays.

### A Council of Wyrms

"Hello?" came a sweet, small voice echoing into the depths of the cave, "is anybody there?"

Snorg grunted indignantly as he came awake a year or two early from a rather long nap. "Go away," said the groggy green dragon, "I am trying to sleep and you are not helping the matter."

"Oh," sighed the small voice, "I hoped to find a dragon."

"A dragon?" said Snorg in amusement, "whatever would you do with a dragon?"

A smile was heard in the little voice, "mother said I could have a pet so I set out all by myself to find a dragon."

"A pet?" said the dragon trying very hard to conceal a laugh, "how would you keep a dragon as a pet?"

"Oh I would chain him up in the backyard," squeaked the little voice in sheer delight.

"And what would you feed him?" asked the dragon in growing amusement, sensing this to be a very young and precocious child of the human variety.

"Grass of course," said the little girl, "they are green from all the grass they eat. We have lots and lots of grass."

The dragon would have been rolling on the floor of his great cave in mirth had he not forced himself to be polite, saying, "we must discuss this matter thoroughly of course but are you not a little young to be running about alone? Your parents must be beside themselves with worry. We shall discuss how to properly capture a dragon as I escort you home."

He crawled from his cave to find a very miffed young lady before him who scolded, "I am a BIG girl and can take care of myself."

The dragon said gently, "it is one thing to be a big girl and quite another to be a good girl."

The little girl looked quite nervous, "oh."

"Yes," said the dragon, "a good girl, no matter her size, would not disobey her mother. Size is of no matter if you are not also a good girl."

She nodded quite seriously and said firmly, "you are right. I want to be a good girl too! What must I do?"

The dragon smiled, "you shall accompany me to your house and on the way we shall discuss your dragon conundrum." She smiled and they walked slowly back to her house (by draconian standards) but quite swiftly by her thinking. He said, "I am a dragon."

She said, "yes but I do not think I can tie you to the maple tree."

The dragon laughed, "no but I would be willing to be friends. Dragons do not take well to domestication." She gave him a confused look and he said, "we do not make good pets but the best of companions."

She laughed and said, "I want to be your friend too."

Suddenly the dragon stopped and sniffed the air; it was heavy with the scent of burning wood. His sharp eyes saw the cloud of smoke emanating from a point directly upon their path. This could not be good. They walked on, the dragon ever on the alert for some sign of danger. The Wilds were a terrible place to raise a family, for danger lurked around every corner; the human predators were worse than any creature of the forest depths. The smoke grew thick as they came to the place where the girl's home had once stood. There was no sign of a living thing in the farmyard, outbuildings, or surrounding countryside. He sighed heavily, it looked as if the child was the sole survivor of her intrepid family; her disobedience had inadvertently saved her life.

She looked around in surprise not quite understanding what had happened and queried in her birdlike voice, "where is mamma and daddy? Where is my little brother? Little brothers do not make good pets either, they are noisy and annoying and you cannot tie them to the maple tree. Is it not a beautiful tree Snog?"

He smiled sadly and said, "yes child it is a beautiful tree. Your family is not here anymore it seems. You must come and stay with me for a time."

"Really?" said she in delight.

Then her face fell, "you will not tie me to a tree will you?"

He laughed, "no child, that I will never do, at least if you try your best to be a good girl."

She smiled contentedly but said, "mamma said never to go off with strangers but I suppose it is alright since we are friends already. Will my family miss me? Where are they? When will I see them again?"

Snorg said sadly, "they are gone away, perhaps forever. Certainly they shall miss you. Hopefully they are in a happier place."

She gave him a thoughtful look, "why did they not wait for me?"

He said gently, "it was not yet your time to go with them."

"A happier place?" asked the girl, "where might that be? I thought there could be no happier place than our cozy kitchen."

The dragon asked, "did no one ever speak of other places?"

She looked thoughtful for a moment and said, "mamma sometimes spoke about some other country I think. Yes, when granny went away, mamma said she went to the happiest country in the whole world or even beyond it. Is that where mamma went?"

Snorg smiled, "if they know of that place and how to get there, then I am sure that is where they have gone and there they will wait for you one day."

"How do I get there Snorg?" asked she, "I think I shall miss them very much."

Snorg smiled weakly, "you will certainly miss them, but do not worry, they will miss you too. You must trust the Master to find that country one day."

She laughed, "I do, I do! Oh, it is not fair that they all left me behind."

Snorg smiled, "it perhaps seems unfair but things are as they must be and we have to wait patiently until our own turn comes to go to that wonderful place."

She smiled, "good girls must be patient, so I will be patient though it will not be easy."

The sound of approaching hooves caused the dragon to turn his head suddenly to face the coming onslaught while he drew the child beneath him with one of his great forearms. A half dozen horsemen galloped into the farmyard but the second their horses caught sight of the dragon, they went mad with terror and flung their riders to the ground. The men got to their feet and though shaking with fear approached the monster, their leader said, "what have you done? Caught in the act! Is it war you want monster? Why destroy innocent folk for the mere joy of it?"

The dragon looked at the man in astonishment and then thought what the scene must look like to the newcomer: the smoldering house with a dragon sitting before it. Snorg tried not to laugh but said as respectfully as he could, "you are quite mistaken sir. I would never commit such a crime."

The man snorted derisively, "then who burned the house? Do not tell me you do not have a ready source of fire."

The dragon yawned expansively showing his terrible teeth and said, "if you will notice, the softer ground in the area is trampled by numerous hooves which suggests a large party of mounted men. Dragonfire would have utterly consumed the house and the ground upon which it sits had I been the culprit and as you can see there are still several upright beams and the ground is quite unscathed. What have I to gain from such a crime? Whereas bandits could certainly take what they want and flee, destroying the house and perhaps the family with it for the sheer joy of destruction."

The man said, "that is certainly a convincing argument but if true what are you doing here?"

The dragon then drew forth the terrified little girl and said, "she awoke me from a much needed nap and I set out to return her home when I discovered she was gone with none the wiser. What are you doing here?"

The man scratched nervously at the back of his neck and looked at the ground saying, "we saw the smoke and gathered up as many men as quickly as we could to help but it seems we came too late."

"But the fun is only beginning," snarled a sinister draconian voice as a small black dragon landed not far from his much larger green conspecific.

"What are you talking about?" said Snorg with ill-contained menace in his voice, "what part have you in this tragedy?"

"None," said the black, preening himself like a cat, then he smiled maliciously and said, "yet."

"Be gone," said the green as patiently as he could, "enough evil has been done this day."

The black scoffed, "you would defend these miserable creatures from me? Your own kinsman?"

Snorg scoffed, "we are certainly not related, unless we are very distant cousins. And yes, I will not allow these poor little things to come to harm if I can help it."

"Humph," snorted the black in disgust, "they are worse than rodents, all of them. Of what interest can that be to you?"

Snorg said gravely, "it is a moral obligation that the strong protect the weak from imminent harm."

"Moral obligation indeed!" scoffed the younger dragon, "you green dragons are all the same: always preaching endlessly about goodness and all its disgusting cousins. What proof have you that there is even such a thing as right and wrong?"

Snorg said patiently, "has not the Master written in upon the heart of every thinking creature? Is it not his will that we abide by his laws?"

The black fell back laughing and finally catching his breath, said, "the Master! Bah! If he even exists, he certainly would never care about the miniscule affairs of mortal beasts. You sound like one of the Brethren prattling on like that! One would think you were not a thinking creature yourself! If your perfect and loving Master is as you think him to be or even exists at all, why is it that he allows his beloved creatures to endure such horrors as lay before us? What has that wretched child done to endure the loss of her entire family or what has her family done to garner the wrath of the Master? Why are creatures such as myself, selfish and evil to our core, allowed to endure while seemingly decent folk perish?"

"That is an excellent question," blurted out the boldest of the men, "I never took the time to worry about philosophy and all that, I had enough to do just eking a living out of this wild land, but I think our late neighbors were about as devout a bunch as could be found outside the Brethren. Is this how your benevolent Master repays his own?"

The black dragon smiled in amusement and said to the man, "there is hope for you yet my pathetic fellow."

The man cowered back amongst his fellows in terror after such a compliment from such a source. The little girl watched wide-eyed but unafraid as 'Snog' would certainly protect her not understanding but knowing something of great import was being discussed. Undaunted, Snorg said, "you challenge my conception of and the very existence of the Master based upon the fact that the innocent seem to suffer unjustly while the truly guilty endure for a time?"

"Exactly," sneered the black dragon, "either your Lord does not exist, he is not as powerful as you claim, he is uninterested in mortal affairs, or he is some sort of malicious fellow rather than love incarnate as you claim him to be, else such affairs would not happen. Logically he should bless those who bless him and curse those who curse him."

Snorg replied, "there is certainly much evil and suffering in the world, and much tragedy is endured unjustly according to mortal reckoning. With that I cannot argue. However your argument fails to address all that is good and lovely in the world. What of that? If there were only sorrow and pain, I would be forced to agree that perhaps the Master is powerless to stop it, nonexistent, uncaring, distant, or himself malicious, but from whence do such things as joy, love, and beauty spring if not from some wonderful fount? If the Master does exist as I hold him to be: loving, just, righteous, omniscient, and omnipresent, then there had best be a logical explanation for the suffering and evil in the world. And there is, but I think you have no such explanation for the origins of everything, the source of evil and good, etc." The men looked intrigued while the black dragon looked quite annoyed; the little girl was eagerly impatient for she felt that a story was soon to be told. Snorg asked of the black, "and what is your explanation my fine fellow?"

The black snorted in irritation, "you certainly think that all sprang forth at the Master's whim, but I care little for myths about the origin of life and care not to guess about things in which I have no part. I know what the world is like and I content myself with that."

Snorg snorted in amusement, "very convincing that. You have very nearly converted me."

The black sneered, "and what is your defense as to why this little one must suffer so?"

The green dragon yawned greatly and said, "I have no idea."

The black dragon laughed heartily, "I rest my case."

"Not so fast," said Snorg patiently, "I am not the Master therefore I have no idea as to the reason why certain things do or do not happen to certain individuals, but I can explain somewhat why there is such a concept as sorrow in the world."

The black looked bored but eager to catch his foe in embarrassment and said, "enlighten us then, the suspense is horrifying."

Snorg gave him a patient look and said, "as far as I have understood, the world was once as we would all imagine it to be: perfect, unspoiled, and wonderful. But something happened to change all that. The Master gave each thinking creature a will of its own; he gave each the choice of choosing to obey his Maker or not. Some chose to rebel and this of course marred all creation and sundered us from the Master."

The black snorted derisively, "so why did your precious Master not just destroy the offenders and begin anew with creatures unable to rebel? Why leave a rotten and broken world as we currently find ourselves inhabiting?"

Snorg continued, "again I cannot claim to speak for the Master, but the short version can be summed up by one word: love. He loves each of us so much that he would rather suffer a ruined creation than utterly destroy all he had wrought. Why did he give us the option to deny him in the first place? If you have no choice, you are not an independent thinking entity and nothing more than one of the unthinking animals. You cannot have a reciprocal relationship with an unthinking creature. You can have a faithful and loving dog, but it is in no way the same thing as having a loving and faithful human companion. I think the Master wants that sort of relationship with each of us, but it is our choice whether or not to return his love."

"How can your perfect Master have a relationship with a rebellious creature?" asked the black dragon scornfully.

"He cannot," said Snorg quietly, "he is utterly perfect and cannot consort with his fallen creatures unless they too are restored to some state of holiness. The price for rebellion is justly death, but the price of justice has been met on our behalf by the Master himself. He who was immortal, eternal, and perfect took on mortal form and allowed himself to die on behalf of each and every thinking creature that we may be counted perfect in his sight and that our relationship to him might be restored."

"He is dead then," said the black triumphantly, "that is why he cannot aid his servants!"

Snorg sighed patiently and continued, "he was dead but death cannot hold such as he! He overthrew the grave and lives once more and has given us each the chance to know him. Some of us make excuses or flatly ignore his offer to our eternal peril."

The black dragon yawned and the men looked flummoxed. The black said, "a lovely bedtime tale I am sure, but you can proselytize all you want and you shall never convince me. Even if I wanted to believe, I would not for it takes all the fun out of life. And what does it gain its adherents but an ascetic life and yet they are still victims to the whims of nature and men."

The green dragon laughed deeply, "you are no skeptic, you plainly deny the Master any influence in your life! You delight in your debauchery and would not make such a sacrifice even to ransom your soul. It is no dull and dreary life, but one that is at last whole and full of purpose and meaning. Keep your fickle amusements, but I shall not deny him who makes me whole." The black dragon laughed menacingly before leaping into the air and vanishing like a black rain cloud into the distance.

"You really believe all that?" asked the skeptical man once the monster had disappeared beyond sight, "why then are such as she allowed to suffer?"

The dragon looked at him firmly and said, "because men have chosen evil over good and much suffering is the result. There will come a time when all wrongs are righted and all injustices cease, but the Master wishes that all have a chance to come to him willingly thus he allows men to live on for a time as they choose hoping they will turn their hearts to him. We do not understand why some innocents suffer and some evil men prosper, but we must trust that all will one day be set aright."

The man's eyes were wide as he asked, "and if they do not choose the Master?"

Snorg said grimly, "those that deny him spend all eternity without him. If he is the source of all that is good and wonderful, think what it must be like without the source of all light and joy. It would be far worse than life without the sun!"

"But if he loves us that much," said another man, "how can he allow any to perish?"

"He would not," said the dragon, "but yet he allows us the freedom to choose our eternal destiny. If he took that choice away, again we would be nothing but unthinking brutes."

"It all seems so strange," said a third man, "but at the same time wonderful."

"I do not have time for such flights of fancy," scoffed a fourth and a fifth nodded.

"I still do not understand," said the last man, "but I am certainly intrigued. What of the child?"

"I am going to live with Snog!" proclaimed the girl ecstatically.

The men looked stunned but before they could offer a protest, the sound of approaching feet and breaking branches announced visitors from the direction of the forest. All were silent a moment in astonishment when the little girl shrieked in pure joy, "mama!"

She left Snorg's protective custody and ran to her rather astonished mother's arms. Her father stood at his wife's shoulder and held the infamous brother by the hand. They all looked with a combination of fear and awe upon the great dragon that towered over the farmstead and their nearest neighbors.

"What happened?" gasped the first man in some amazement and with no little joy, "we were certain brigands had torched the house and murdered the entire family."

The woman sighed but joy at the return of her daughter tinged her voice, "it has been a very strange day. First the horses broke loose and we spent the better part of the morning chasing them around the yard. In the meantime, the girl went missing and we abandoned the horses to find the missing child, but in my haste I left the washing a bit too close to the hearth and the boy pushed it even closer. It caught fire and it was all I could do to escape the house with my son before the whole thing went up in flames. There was nothing to be done for the house so we continued to look for the child. We returned to find a dragon sitting in the yard but thankfully our daughter as well."

The first man said, "that is quite a tale of tragedy yet not half so tragic as we had all assumed. We shall certainly help you rebuild, you lost nothing that cannot be replaced."

The girl looked smilingly at her mother and said of Snorg, "can I keep him?"

The woman looked at the dragon and then at her errant child and said, "no, but I think he may visit from time to time, will that suffice you?"

The girl sighed, "it is hard being a good girl but I suppose it will have to do."

Her mother eyed her suspiciously and the dragon laughed. She bowed deeply to the dragon, "thank you for returning my child, we are forever in your debt."

The dragon shook his head, "certainly not dear lady. It was my honor and privilege to escort her home. I shall certainly drop by from time to time just to see how things are going with you and yours as you have so kindly given me permission. I am glad to see that no greater harm has come to you than the loss of material possessions."

The woman laughed, "and we can truly thank the Master for that. I would offer everyone tea but my pot is lost amongst the ruins of the house!" They all shared her relief and joy and soon enough, with the help of the entire community, the house was soon replaced. The dragon became a favorite among the locals and a frequent visitor to the area. The black dragon watched and laughed scornfully, awaiting the day when he would be big enough to challenge the green dragon and perhaps win. Then he could safely destroy the entire community just for the sheer joy of destruction. His heart was not touched in the least by the green's tale, but many of the folk in the vicinity were moved and many gave their hearts joyfully to the Master.

A Family Affair

The creature ran like the wind, only such an elemental comparison would do as no other beast upon four legs could move like a unicorn. Over logs and streams, the creature took to the air as if flying were his true mode of travel and when once more he deigned to alight upon the earth, the smoothness and speed of his movements made one think he was still borne aloft. The two boys upon his back laughed with the pure exhilaration of youth and speed. Finally the creature stayed his flight in a bright meadow. The boys exchanged a few words, with the rearmost rider sliding quickly from the saddle as the unicorn reared and screamed a challenge. He was answered in the same manner, the boy yet astride drew his sword as another mounted man entered the meadow, and all was soon a swirl of clashing swords and plunging equine forms. The second boy watched in stunned silence until the two combatants slid panting and laughing from their saddles and embraced warmly and then beckoned for the amused spectator to join them.

The older man looked upon the pair with delight and pride saying, "I would hardly be able to tell you two apart even though Ryne is my own son!" The boys laughed and exchanged a delighted grin at their respective uncle and father's words.

Bryant laughed, "it is a good thing then that Ryne has joined the Brethren that you might now tell us apart." They laughed all the more and returned to their waiting saddles and began the journey back to Astoria at a pleasant pace, exchanging greetings and news upon the way.

Bryant was the crown prince of Albergia, but had been sent by his father to Astoria to study two years ago that he might be better prepared to rule when his own turn came. Upon his arrival, he had been astonished to meet a boy about his own age that was very nearly his own twin. He knew he had an aunt and uncle among the Brethren but never knew they had a son, especially one with so similar an appearance. Bryant's mother was a native of Astoria who had caught the King's eye one day as he had passed through that country on a diplomatic tour of the East of the world; upon returning to Albergia, the King had sent his younger brother to make the necessary arrangements for a marriage with the charming young lady. As it would happen, the young prince had himself been enchanted by the bride-to-be's sister and after all was settled with the King and new Queen, Merrick had returned to Astoria and married her sister.

It was something of a scandal at the time that a prince would abandon his rank and title to marry a foreign peasant, but after little was said of the matter save that eventually the pair had joined the Brethren and that the madman had thereby forever given up any chance of rank, title, property, and renown. What was not known in general, actually to none but the King and Queen, was that Merrick had a son about the same time his brother's heir was born.

When Ryne was old enough, he had requested of his parents that he might be allowed to attend classes with the Brethren with the intent of joining them when he was of age. His parents were delighted and told him of their own wish to join that esteemed company but of their inability to do so until the boy was old enough to choose his own future. So it was, that Ryne came to live in Astoria and his parents took their Oath that very day. Two years later, Ryne followed suit. Ryne had only been in Astoria for a few months when his cousin arrived. All were amazed at the resemblance and Merrick quickly wrote to his brother of the likeness as neither had ever before seen their respective nephews. The boys were fast friends, and only Ryne's Oath-taking a month prior had ever caused a division between them. Now that Ryne was an Apprentice of the Brethren, their lives began to diverge and take radically different paths. For now, they could still attend classes and spend their Free Day together, but soon Ryne would set out with his Mentor upon his own adventures and Bryant would return to Albergia to take his place at court. Today was perhaps their last wild ride together.

But their pleasant ride back to the city was cut short as both the unicorns suddenly stopped and perked their ears. The two Brethren exchanged a look and said as one, "the Lady immediately requires our presence!" Bryant shook his head in confusion and the unicorns resumed their journey with all speed. When they entered the courtyard of the castle, Bryant was left standing awkwardly after the hasty farewells of his companions and the two hurried away to attend the Lady. Bryant wondered vaguely what could be the emergency before wandering off in search of something to eat and less harried companions.

The two Brethren bowed themselves into the Lady's presence and placed themselves before her, beside Ryne's mother and one of the Messengers called Aven. Once all were assembled, the Lady began, "I have just received word from the King of Albergia that he is deathly ill with some slow wasting disease and fears he will not live out the month. But what has him most concerned is that he suspects some sort of plot against his life and throne. He suspects some slow poison rather than a natural illness and has asked our aide in this matter."

Merrick asked, "is the prince to be told?"

The Lady shook her head gravely, "alas I fear not for his father fears for his son's life as well. He also knows his son well enough to know he is likely to do something rash if he learns of the matter. Therefore I am sending three of you to straighten out this matter and see that Bryant has a secure throne to assume upon his father's death. Ryne, I must ask you to take your cousin's place until this matter is resolved."

All were stunned at the proposal and Merrick said in astonishment, "but Lady, should something happen to the King, the boy might be asked to assume the throne and would that not violate his Oath?"

The Lady smiled sadly, "he will be a King only in name, in truth he shall merely be a place holder until his cousin can safely take his place. This shall be a very dangerous and delicate task, especially for one who is yet an Apprentice but for the sake of Albergia and Bryant himself, this thing must be done. Are you willing to assume the risk Ryne?"

The boy bowed deeply and said in tones of reverence and fear, "my life is ever yours to command Lady."

She smiled deeply and said, "then you shall travel to Albergia, in the guise of your cousin and take his rightful duties upon yourself until this plot is ended. Aven shall be your Mentor and protector, ever at your side to help you unravel this riddle. Your mother shall have a place amongst the Queen's ladies. Merrick, you shall not be going, but as this is a family matter I thought you should know of the situation. Helm, my Advisor to the King of Albergia, shall also be there to aide you at need. Under no circumstances is Bryant to know of this until all is finished." They bowed themselves from her presence, exchanged hurried goodbyes with Merrick, and each quickly made ready for their journey. Aven and Ryne set out together and the Queen's sister made her own way to Albergia to quietly take her place at court.

As Ryne was preparing to leave, Bryant found him in the stable and asked, "what is going on?"

Ryne said sadly, "I have been assigned a Mentor and we leave immediately."

Bryant asked, "where are you going?"

Ryne shook his head, "that I cannot say, but it is a dangerous mission."

Bryant smiled sadly, "why did you want to go and be a Messenger? If you must be crazy enough to join the Brethren, you could at least be wise enough to join the Philosophers like your parents. It is much safer that way!" Ryne smiled at his friend, knowing his complaints came from his concern for his safety. They embraced and said their goodbyes, even as Aven summoned his charge to be off. Bryant watched them go with a sad smile on his face, wondering if he would ever see Ryne again.

The journey was swiftly made and there was much rejoicing in Albergia at the return of the Prince. The people loved their king dearly and were distressed over his illness, but the return of the heir brought a little joy back into these otherwise dark days. Once all the festivities and ceremonial appearances were finally completed, the King and Queen summoned Ryne and Aven to a private audience. They had been astounded at the similarity of the cousins and quite pleased at the boy's success at all of the tasks set him thus far; no one suspected anything was amiss. The king lay on his couch with the Queen standing beside him. He greeted the boy warmly and thanked him profusely for helping his family and Albergia in such a crisis. The boy bowed in embarrassment and mumbled something about only doing his duty. Aven asked after any suspicions or known treacheries surrounding the King's illness but he knew nothing more than that he was quite sure he had been poisoned and that the traitor was still at large and eager for the throne.

Two weeks later the King was dead. In her grief, the Queen inadvertently sent a letter to her son, forgetting that he knew nothing of the circumstances. Bryant received the letter and read in grief, astonishment, and horror that his father was dead and that his cousin had taken the throne for his own. In a rage, he left Astoria immediately to reclaim what was rightfully his. The Queen had not mentioned that there was a plot afoot nor that Ryne was only posing, not intending to keep the appointment indefinitely.

Ryne was astonished to go through all the ceremony and pomp attending his Uncle's demise and the ensuing coronation and assumption of the throne. It was quite a surreal experience but Aven was ever at his side to give him strength and advice. The new king's many advisors strongly recommended that he distance himself from the man from Astoria, especially as he came into his own, but Ryne was determined to have Aven at his side until this riddle was unraveled. Those who had plotted against the former King bided their time, chafing at the presence of one of the Brethren so close to the neophyte King but also knowing that they could do nothing for a time or the people's suspicions might be roused. They knew not that their plot was suspected and that there were those ever watching for some sign of their treachery, but for now they were silent and therefore went undetected but when the time was right, they would strike again. They had hoped the young king would be malleable and open to their influence, but for one so young he was quite stubborn and determined to rule justly rather than as his advisors might prefer, such as to their advantage. If such had been the case, the boy might be allowed to live and to rule, but as it was, he must be destroyed as had his father before him. But they must wait their chance. However, something came about to interfere with their carefully laid plans.

Ryne and Aven occasionally found the need for a private word together, and not daring to trust such a delicate discussion to the much traveled corridors of the castle, they preferred to ride out alone when necessary. It was upon one such foray that tragedy struck and all the plans of those plotting against them were thrown into disarray. They were riding slowly through the woods, discussing their mission and complete lack of progress therewith when the unicorns alerted them to mounted strangers in the vicinity. Arrows rained down upon them and all soon lay upon the ground. Aven's mount had died and thus vanished almost instantly. Ryne's faithful companion lay upon the ground, groaning and mortally wounded. The fall had rendered Ryne senseless and Aven lay unmoving with two arrows in his back. Their attackers rode into the clearing, smiled at the carnage, collected the senseless King, and rode off leaving the rest for dead. Aven lay half-conscious, aware of nothing but the pain in his back, but he felt a gentle prodding at his shoulder. The pain vanished, as did the shadows growing across his vision.

He found himself face to face with the Master who said quietly, "ride back to the city and inform the King's advisors that he has fallen into the hands of bandits." Suddenly he was gone. Aven stood weakly and saw the unicorn struggling to his feet. The pair exchanged a grim look, as it was obvious, though the pain was gone, that the arrows still remained embedded where they had struck. They both knew that once their message was delivered that their own time was at an end. Aven climbed aback Ryne's unicorn and they rode back towards the city, though both wanted to go after the boy, they knew that that was not to be.

A few people gasped to see the man and beast pass, injured as they were, but most in the bustling city hardly noticed. The guards let them pass unquestioned as Aven was well known to them, but they gaped in astonishment as the unicorn collapsed and vanished as Aven dismounted. He watched sadly and knew his own time was short. He sought out the King's closest advisors and greatest lords, once assembled he said, "the King has been kidnapped by bandits. We were overcome as we rode through the woods this morning."

One of the generals scoffed, "and you left him to his fate?"

One of the lords groused, "have you any proof or is this all some elaborate hoax or a plot you yourself have hatched?"

Aven's only answer was to tumble forward, revealing the two arrows protruding from his unmoving form. The assembled lords gasped in amazement and one grumbled to the waiting servant, "fetch Helm and have him dispose of his comrade's remains." The others drew together to discuss what was to be done about the missing King. Those plotting against the King wondered what this would mean to their own plans. They could not be seen as lax in their search for his Majesty but neither were they pleased that others were trespassing upon their territory. They discussed with their innocent comrades but were desperate to get away and discuss the matter privately amongst themselves.

Ryne awoke in great pain and confusion and grief. He had seen the others fall, could no longer sense his unicorn, and knew them all to be dead. But soon the pain overcame even his grief as his captors desperately tried to make him speak. There was a hooded man there who demanded to know all that was passing in the court of Albergia and what his own role was. Ryne's only answers were to scream or groan in agony as his captors pressed him for answers. Then, gasping for air and dizzy with pain, his agonized mind saw Aven standing quietly before him. He could not speak for wonder at seeing such a figment, but Aven said, "you may tell them all, for it is your cousin who has taken you, and to him now falls the mission."

Aven vanished and Ryne finally gasped out, "I am ready to speak but to your leader alone will I do so."

The hooded man dismissed his cronies and laughed darkly, "it is about time fool! Why did you lie to me and take my rightful place?"

Ryne said dazedly, "I forgive you Bryant, for all you have inflicted upon me."

Bryant gasped, "how did you know?!"

Ryne pressed on even as his strength failed, "your father was murdered by men unknown and he feared for you and all Albergia. He asked that I be sent to take your place until the plot was uncovered, that you might assume the throne in safety and peace..." His words trailed off and his head dropped to his chest as death took him. Bryant's heart was frozen in horror, guilt, and sorrow as he was overwhelmed by the veracity of his cousin's words. He had felt himself betrayed and vowed vengeance, but it was for Bryant's sake that Ryne had risked everything, only to die in agony at the hand of the one he had given all to protect. The irony was tragic.

Bryant suddenly saw Aven standing beside him, yet another man he had murdered for no good cause. Aven said quietly, "there is ever hope and forgiveness in the Master. The great lords and advisors of Albergia know the King has been taken by bandits, I was sent to tell you both these things."

Bryant asked quietly, "there is yet hope for my throne?"

Aven shook his head, "I speak of eternal hope, hope for your soul, which is of more value than any number of thrones. What hope there is for mortal affairs, I know not. But seek healing for your blighted soul in the Master's grace and mercy."

Suddenly he was gone and Bryant was alone with his grief but he knew his hired thugs were nearby and lest disaster ensue, he must keep up appearances. He yelled loud enough for his mercenaries to hear, "cut the wretch down and hide his carcass in the woods." As much as he wished to give his murdered friend a proper burial, it would not be in keeping with his persona as leader of a murderous band, but neither could he associate with such criminals afterwards, either. They disposed of the body and, after paying them well, he dismissed them that he might grieve and seek solace for his fractured soul.

He vanished into the depths of the forest, and what anguish of heart and mind pursued him thither none can say but there he mourned and begged the Master's forgiveness for all the evil he had wrought. There he found healing, though ever it was a deep and abiding wound that remained all the rest of his days, though he was not without hope, peace, and the ever present joy of the Master's healing. He donned his hood once more that he might not be recognized and made his way back into the city wondering how to proceed. The news of the King's abduction had set the Kingdom into an uproar and the Lords and Queen Mother had all they could do to keep order. Search parties were sent out but nothing was ever found. Bryant presented himself to the gate guards and asked if he might see the Brethren's Advisor to the King. The guards asked for a name and the boy said, "I am the cousin of an apprentice of his acquaintance called Ryne." The guards shook their heads at this strange man who would not show his face nor give his name but the message was passed along. Helm was not considered a very important person else he might never have received such a summons but no one worried about inconveniencing such an inglorious personage. Knowing full well who this visitor must be, Helm hurried to the gate and immediately took charge of the young prince. The guards shook their heads in wonderment but allowed the boy to pass.

Once alone, the prince told his full, horrible tale. Helm was silent in horror and amazement and said, "perhaps we can use this to draw out those plotting against your father though what is to follow I know not."

The boy's mother and aunt were summoned and Bryant had to explain to Ryne's mother how her son had died by his direction. She withdrew weeping, but said quietly as she did so, "this is news to rend my heart, but know that I forgive you, if only by the Master's strength."

Bryant's own tears were renewed with these words as he watched the heartbroken woman withdraw. His own mother looked upon him with some combination of horror and grief but said, "how are we to finish what your cousin gave his life to begin?" They talked long until a plan was drafted, now all that could be done was to hope the villains would be drawn to the bait. A letter of ransom was produced and delivered to the greatest of the Lords of Albergia. It demanded literally a King's ransom for the return of the King but also hinted that other arrangements perhaps might be made. A place was appointed and it was asked that only three representatives come and that they come alone else the perpetrator would fail to appear. The lords talked long amongst themselves but finally three were appointed with the power to negotiate with the villain.

They appeared at the appointed inn at the set time and the hooded villain appeared when he knew them to be alone. Said the first lord, "what is it you want?"

The villain replied, "perhaps the better question is what are you after? Ere the King died, there was some talk of a plot against him. Now that I have the new King, perhaps the plot still ensues and I would have my part in it. That is, if we can come to a mutual agreement."

The three exchanged a look and a dark smile and their leader said, "I would love to know how you came by this knowledge but so cunning a mind must be congenial to ours. We are they who murdered the late King and seek the demise of the new. If you could arrange for his permanent disappearance, we would be most grateful and are willing to pay handsomely for the attainment thereof."

Asked the hooded man, "are there others involved in this plot? I would know that I have dealt with them all that there be no discord between us."

The first spoke, "we three are those who plotted against the King. Know that by speaking to us, you have spoken to us all."

"That is all I needed to know," said a grim voice from behind them. Helm stood and revealed himself from the stack of crates behind which he had been hiding. He continued, "you are under arrest for the murder of the King and plotting against the crown prince."

Snarled the first, "how did you find us out? Where is the new King?"

Bryant removed his hood and said, "you look upon him." The men would have fought but they found themselves outnumbered as a dozen guards also revealed their presence. They gave up without a fight and were led away to face trial. Said Bryant sadly as the traitors were led away, "now what shall come of my reign? I am far guiltier than they, for they murdered one man, I killed four thinking creatures and one brutally!"

Helm said quietly, "that the Lady must decide."

"In the meantime," said Bryant sadly, "there is one thing we must attend to." The Lady was sent for and while they waited, Bryant led them to the place where Ryne had fallen. They found the bones scattered and the once rich clothes tattered by the scavengers come to prey on the corpse. They buried Ryne in the Pauper's cemetery beside Aven, his mother and Helm sang the Brethren's ancient song of mourning over the grave. Bryant wept, "should we not erect some sort of memorial or at least a marker?"

Ryne's mother smiled sadly through her tears saying, "it is not our way. The story shall live on as Ryne himself lives on in the Master's bright country." She turned her face and wept at being so sundered from her son. The Lady herself arrived not long after, leaving Astoria for the first time in memory to settle this dreadful affair. Merrick came with her and was devastated by the tale, but did his best to comfort his grieving wife. Bryant was miserable during the whole affair, knowing himself forgiven by both the Master and those who loved Ryne best, but wishing to face the justice he knew he deserved. Murderer though he be, they did not forget him in their grief and tried as they could to encourage and console him.

Finally, all was ready for the trial of the traitors against the crown and also for the revelation of the full tale. The villains behind the plot pled guilty; it was a simple tale of greed and lust for power. The surprise came to all who heard Bryant's part in the tale for the first time. This man was to be their King? Bryant himself felt the same and said as the tale drew to a close, "Lady, whatever justice demands let me pay, but in no way can I ever rule this people. Let another more worthy of the title ascend the throne."

One of the lords came forward and said, "the boy speaks truly my Lady, the people will never accept such a man as their King, it would be worse than had the villains accomplished their plot! Let the King's brother assume the throne as he is the rightful heir!"

Merrick, with tears in his eyes at the plight of his nephew and grieving both his son and brother said, "I cannot assume the throne for I am bound to the Brethren!"

The Lady talked quietly with Merrick's wife and then said, "for the sake of the peace of Albergia, it would be best if you did so Merrick, at least until a proper replacement is found. You must lay aside your Oath and take up your brother's throne."

Merrick was aghast but his wife nodded sadly. He gasped, "can I truly do such a thing without imperiling my soul?"

The Lady smiled sadly, "you are not breaking Oath my friend, you are simply laying it aside for duty calls you elsewhere. You may take it up again one day if such is your wish, once the Kingship is passed to a worthy heir."

He sighed, nodded, and said, "it shall be as it must Lady." He knelt beside his wife, before the Lady and all Albergia and there laid aside his Oath and was crowned King of Albergia. Bryant wept to think how much he had cost so many out of pure selfishness and thoughtlessness.

With a tear in her eye, the Lady said to Bryant, "you had best come back to Astoria and there we shall discuss what justice means." The boy nodded, wiped the tears from his eyes, and made his farewells to those he had so grievously wronged. The people saw him led away, a seemingly resigned prisoner of the Brethren and they were content to know that he would be dealt with justly.

The grieving Bryant was nearly desperate to have it all over and done with; he felt his guilt and sorrow were near to undoing him. Finally, as they came within sight of Astoria, the Lady took him aside and said, "justice demands your life. Either you must go to the headsman or give up your life in service to the Brethren." He stared at her as if she were mad. But she was deadly serious and he knew it. He thought the axe would be a relief but then thought how much of a waste that would be, especially when Ryne and Aven had given their lives for this cause and he had taken their service from the Lady. Merrick and his wife had also been lost to the Brethren by his rash deeds. He was only one man, but he would give back a little of what he had wantonly taken rather than spill more needless blood even though it was his own. He knelt that day before the Lady and spent the rest of his life in service to the Brethren and the Master, and finally his heart was at peace.

Merrick and the Queen were astounded to find themselves parents once more, especially within a year of the events here recorded. While little Aven would never replace his lost brother in his parents' hearts, he brought joy and hope back into the lives of many, especially the aggrieved people of Albergia. His cousin Bryant was delighted when the royal couple brought him to visit Astoria on a tour of state, but his tears of remembrance over what had been did not escape the Lady nor his aunt and uncle. The boy grew into manhood and once he was wise enough and old enough, his father passed on the crown of Albergia and he and the late Queen returned to Astoria and resumed their service with the Brethren.

### A Fool Propheteth Little

"You must go," said a wondrous voice to the sleepy Gorman who blinked his eyes in astonishment to see a great unicorn standing in the midst of his tiny bedroom. He threw himself flat upon the bed and quivered in terror and delight. The Master continued, "you must go to Sinravere and tell them that doom shall surely come upon them unless they repent of their evil and turn back to the ways of love and justice."

Gorman stuttered, "me? Could you not send one of the Brethren? Is this not their appointed task? Who am I to do this thing? Sinravere? They deserve utter destruction! They are the very incarnation of evil! They sell their own children for slaves and execute the innocent simply for the amusement of watching them die! There is no justice, save for the rich and powerful! They would kill me the instant I dared open my mouth!"

The Master shook his head grimly and the light about him intensified ten fold as he said with a voice sharp as a knife, "are you any less my servant than one of the Brethren? I am sending you. Now go!" Then he was gone.

Gorman sat up in bed and shivered, what was he to do? It should be the job for one of the Brethren, not a poor man such as he! He sighed as he got out of bed and began to dress, thinking frantically. He would go all right, but perhaps not as the Master expected. Sinravere was a five day ride to the south. He would hop on his mule and ride north as fast as the poor beast could manage. He smiled happily to himself and went to saddle the mule.

Gorman was quite pleased with his success, it was nearly two weeks since that dreadful vision and he was very nearly into the heart of the Northern Wilds and seemed to have escaped his dreadful task. Suddenly the mule went mad, braying and bucking with all his strength. Gorman lay in a bruised heap on the ground, cursing about unruly beasts when a shadow darkened the glade and a great hand engulfed him. He fainted with terror and awoke to find himself chained to a wall in the dark, dank depths of a cave. He heard a movement nearby and two coal red eyes flamed in the darkness, "awake then wretch?" Gorman fainted again, much to the irritation of the black dragon into whose clutches he had fallen.

The creature's eyes watered and his nose itched and he barely managed to turn his head aside as he sneezed, narrowly avoiding Gorman's drooping form with the great gout of fire that burst forth with his sneeze. He would not allow the creature such an easy death, but then he really did not have this strange problem before he had come into possession of the little imp. He hoped the vermin was not a carrier of some vile disease. The dragon waited patiently and occasionally splashed water on the fainted wretch. Finally, Gorman roused again and at last the dragon could taunt and terrify the brute with his own impending death. The dragon took much delight over the next two days sharpening knives and various implements of torture within sight and sound of the pathetic creature and describing in detail how each would be used upon his person during his own imminent demise.

Gorman was in a state of terror and panic the entire time and finally in despair he cried out to the Master, "rescue me from this doom! I, like a fool, disobeyed and ran from you. Leave me not to this living death!"

The dragon sneezed again, this time quite violently and he growled, "I have been sneezing like this, each time worse than the last, since the moment I took you into my keeping. Enough is enough! I cannot go on like this!" Knowing his doom was finally upon him, Gorman prepared to die. But instead the dragon unchained him and took him again into his great fist and took wing. He left the pathetic little wretch upon a dark road with the lights of a distant city brightening the horizon. He laughed darkly, "the denizens of Sinravere will be more than happy to kill you as I would like, but I cannot do it for I seem to be allergic to you and dare not spread your vile entrails about my lair and irrevocably contaminate my cave!"

He took wing and from that moment on sneezed no more. Gorman sat up and shivered at his strange release and wasted no time in thanking his Maker for the timely rescue. The lights of Sinravere shown before him and he knew thither he must go. He drew himself wearily to his feet and made his way to the despotic city. He still thought they deserved whatever doom the Master felt inclined to deal out, but he dared not disobey any longer and trudged resignedly into town.

Sinravere was one of the largest cities in the world at the time and certainly the most hedonistic and despotic. There was no rule of law, only the powerful and rich were safe in such a place and they preyed upon all weaker than themselves with impunity. Nothing was forbidden and the most brutal and heinous crimes and activities abounded therein. Even the Brethren dared not go into that vile town openly, for theirs would be a slow and agonizing death were they found out. But thither did Gorman go to denounce their evil and warn them of what would come of it unless they turned back to the ways of justice. He came into town in the midst of some dark festival, for the roads were crowded with people drunken with excitement and wine and perhaps under the influence of more dangerous substances as well. All wore fantastic and revealing costumes and reveled in the streets. The music was brash and the crowds seemed eager for violence or riot at the slightest provocation. And into this maelstrom Gorman reluctantly went. Stunned silence ensued as eyes caught sight of the ragged, exhausted man who climbed atop a wine cask, with arms aloft.

When all eyes were fixed on the man, none friendly, and all were silent Gorman began halfheartedly, "the Master has warned that doom shall fall upon this vile city and all its inhabitants unless you turn from your ways and seek again the paths of justice and righteousness."

His message delivered, Gorman jumped down from the barrel and tried to vanish into the crowd but a strong arm grabbed him and bore him aloft as one voice after another began to cry out, "what is this you say?"

"Come man, are you drunk?"

"Can it be true?"

All over the city, fear and dread broke out among the inebriated citizens and soon the King himself was troubled by such thoughts.

The terrified Gorman was brought before the King and repeated his simple message. The aggrieved King burst out in terror, "what a strange prophet this is! But I know in my heart that his words must be true! Summon all the people together! Let us turn from our evil ere it is too late!"

So the people were gathered and the matter discussed. Gorman, much to his astonishment and disgust was quietly forgotten. He sighed, at least that dismal task was done and he was none the worse for it. As he crept from the town, he heard the people mourning and crying out in the streets and beseeching the Master for mercy. He shook his head in amusement, knowing such as these could not be acceptable to the Master nor would their feigned repentance last. Their doom would certainly come upon them. Amused at the thought, he left town and climbed a great hill overlooking the city. There he found a comfortable spot to await the impending doom of the heathens below.

The sun rose and the wind grew hot and Gorman very uncomfortable. The sounds of mourning and grief went on unabated below and Gorman grew impatient. Where was the disaster? Certainly it must come soon. In his boredom, he caught sight of a young rabbit nibbling a tender shrub and thought how cute and vulnerable the little creature was. For over an hour he watched the bunny, enchanted until a hawk stooped out of the sky and bore the poor thing aloft with a great shriek of triumph. Gorman was horrified at the cruelty of the bird and could not help but weep a little for the rabbit.

Then he turned his eyes back to the city in the vale below and wondered how much like the hawk would be the coming of doom upon the evil denizens of that place. He smiled maliciously in anticipation. Suddenly he was throwing himself to the ground once more upon sensing that terrible and glorious presence that was the Master. At last it had come! The Master's voice held great disappointment as he said, "what is this? I draw you from the brink of a horrible death yet you anticipate the demise of an entire city! You pity a rabbit more than any of the blighted souls in the valley below!"

Gorman gasped out, "are you not going to destroy them?"

The Master sighed sadly, "child you are slow to understand! My mercy is not for you alone but for all who cry out for it and this they have done. I will stay my hand for they have reneged their evil and shall now dwell and act justly in all things. You should rejoice at their salvation as much as at your own."

Gorman shook his head in consternation, "but it is justice to destroy such as they! I am a good man and deserve rescue. They are nothing but evildoers."

The Master asked quietly, "how is it you are any more worthy of rescue than they? Has not my blood atoned for the sins of all? What man has the power to rescue his own soul? Who is good besides me? Who are you to judge another? You can no more rescue yourself from your own evil than you could free yourself from the clutches of the dragon. Think well on this child or ignore it to your own destruction." Suddenly the Master was gone and Gorman was left alone on that hill, and lost a very long time in quiet thought.

### A Learned Mind

Zaria stared in wonder at all the beauty about her; she loved spring and everything that attended it from the new life and returning birds to the unveiling of the forest's verdure. She knelt and examined a flower peeping out of the new grass, the first of the season. A thrush sang overhead and a butterfly lazily winged its way through the lush growth. She said a silent prayer of thanks to the earth-mother for her blessings though her village often disputed whether or not such prayers could ever be heard. That the earth was a bounteous and benevolent, though sometimes harsh and severe mother was not questioned, but whether or not there was any conscious thought on her part or whether she cared for human opinions was quite another matter entirely. The earth-mother provided everything mankind could ever want and then when life ceased, each entered again into the sacred rhythm of life: death always giving place to new life like flowers after the last snow.

She sighed, it would be nice if the earth-mother actually cared for her children; Zaria did not like the idea of a benevolent but dumb or distant mother, like a mistress who left food out occasionally for the dog but otherwise cared little about her pet's concerns. She wanted a goddess who was ever near, personal, and cared for each of her children. She left her study of the flower, now in a grimmer mood than ever the glorious day was meant to entertain. She passed deeper into the shade of the woods for it suited well her brooding thoughts. As she walked, she thought that she should be content to be provided with her daily needs and why should she desire anything else?

She watched a black thrush flit suddenly into a nearby tree and heard the harried peeping of many small voices. Zaria laughed at this revelation. The animals were content to raise their young, live day to day, and then die at their appointed time, but mortal man aspired to have purpose and meaning and love. The thrush cared not about its young ones once they were safely out of the nest but a mother loved her children all the days of her life! She wanted the earth-mother, if mother she was, to be like her own mother. How could she ever be indebted to and love something as careless of her grown offspring as the thrush? But if she were such a caring mother, why was she distant and indifferent to her children? Perhaps the earth-mother was enough for the thoughtless beasts but what of the more demanding children of men? How could men be wiser than she who succored them in thought and temper? Surely there must be an answer.

A sudden flash of white in the underbrush caught her attention and she followed quickly after the fleeing creature. She came suddenly into a small glade where the sun was bright upon the flower-strewn grass and there grazed a unicorn, as if the whole forest were his and he cared not that one wandering daughter of men impinged upon his luncheon. She went to her knees in awe and astonishment for never before had she glimpsed something so beautiful or mysterious. She looked into the boundless depths of those eyes and knew here was a creature far wiser and nobler than the best of her race. She was not surprised when the creature spoke for she certainly had strayed into a dream and nothing in this ethereal otherworld could be counted as strange. The great beast said, "so you come to realize that one should not be content to worship the house but should perhaps thank the builder?"

She nodded dully, as if in a trance but not quite understanding his meaning. He continued patiently, "the reason you are not content with your earth-mother is because the earth is not your mother but your home. It is I that am Author of all life and none are content without me. The earth is a feckless thing that nourishes your physical being and perhaps inspires the soul with a brilliant sunset or a moonlit wood, but only because it too is my handiwork though marred by human folly. It is me you seek and none else. Will you have me?"

She smiled then, not knowing who or what this creature was but knowing deep within her being that he spoke truly and was far more real than her imagined earth-mother ever could be. She said in a small, trembling voice, "you are perhaps the Lord of the Woods or the God of growing things?"

He reared then and pawed the air in amusement and said as his feet again touched the earth, "this glade is but the smallest part of my handiwork. I am the Master of All, meaning absolutely everything that is, was, or ever shall be. I can fit the Universe in my pocket child." For a moment she thought to glibly mention that such was impossible for he certainly had no pockets but the wiser part of her mind kept her from speaking with such irreverence in his presence though he seemed to know the vagrant thought was in her mind for he gave her a patient look.

She reddened and he seemed more amused than insulted and continued, "humanity's greatest failing is an inability to look beyond the present, beyond the physical, to all that which they cannot see, touch, or imagine. That is why they do not trust fully in me and why they are bold enough to think that they can do things better on their own."

Her eyes widened, "there is more than this lovely wood and the rolling meadows and the rumors we hear of towns and even cities in lands far away?"

He laughed and all the wood shared his merriment, "I am the Master of all the starry host, of worlds beyond your comprehension or imagination; I know each wandering thought and idle activity of every creature in every sphere of creation. Come and I will show you but a glimpse of those things which mortal mind oft fails to comprehend." She stood and cautiously placed a shaking hand on his great shoulder and suddenly the world shifted around them though they stood still as statues. They found themselves upon a great rocky height overlooking a green expanse of forest more verdant than anything Zaria had ever dreamed. The air was alive with scents exotic and sweet while a chorus of voices, avian and otherwise, filled the air with a chaotic and wild hymn. A river flung itself heedlessly over the cliff beside them in a cataract of impossible blue. The world spun again and this time they stood in an ancient wood, silent as a tomb and almost as dark for the density of the foliage far over their heads supported by the boles of trees bigger around than any pillar of human make. Again and again the world lurched and each time a scene more beautiful and amazing than the last met them before the next suddenly revolved into being.

They found themselves upon strange and stony shores, in the very depths of the ocean where all manner of alien creatures lurked, they walked amidst the sunset clouds upheld by nothing but the mist, they saw the moon rise on a dead and rocky sphere far from Zaria's native sun, they saw places and things beyond comprehension or name, and finally they came to a place more wonderful than words can describe. Tears of joy filled the girl's eyes and a feeling of finally coming home, but utter despair wracked her being as they suddenly fled from that glorious place to find themselves again in the sunny little glade. She could not help it, for she felt her heart would burst asunder if she did not find some comfort, thus she threw her arms around the great arching neck of this great and terrible being who knew too much and had brought all into being. She wept into his silky coat and instead of pushing her away in derision, he leaned closer and allowed his peace to wash over her stricken heart. Her tears subsided and she said in quavering voice, "so many wonderful and strange things! But alas I shall never be happy again until I look upon that land of which I had only a glimpse. Why does my heart ache so when I have not known that place yet know that I should?"

He said gently, "child you have glimpsed that which once did belong to your race but the stubborn pride of your fathers wrested it from your grip. Your heart has not forgotten, though it is buried deep under careless thoughts and temporary cares and pleasures. It lurks within each human heart, this yearning to be whole, that this mode of existence is not truly that for which you were made. One day I shall restore all to its proper form and function but for now your race wanders lost in this broken mortal sphere. Your heart knew itself to be home and yearned above all else to dwell there forever, but it is not yet your time to leave your current abode but one day you shall come to me and never again be sundered."

"But how may I attain that lovely land?" asked she with the guilelessness of a child.

He laughed then for joy and said, "I am the door to that pleasant land, but it is not the country itself you seek but he who is King of it and all else, for none are complete without me. Your soul weeps within you that you have lost again that for which you were made, but fear not, for I am what you seek and none else. That country is not yet yours to attain but I am ever to be found by those that seek me."

"What must I do?" asked the girl in eagerness and fear.

He said, "believe that I am indeed what I claim and that there is none else besides me who is lord of all creation and beyond. But you must not only believe but also obey, for even my enemies believe in me. I shall ask much of you child and it is no easy path, but I shall surely give you more than you can even imagine in return. You traverse a broken sphere full of many dangers, enemies, and sorrows and from these you will not be spared, but I shall give you strength to go on if you will but trust me and be patient. Things may not be accomplished as you would have them nor in the time you would hope, but all is accomplished according to my will and in its own proper time. It is no small thing I ask. I want your entire being dedicated entirely to my service; this is not to say that you will not make mistakes or occasionally lose heart, but as long as you continue to strive in my name then you have nothing whatsoever to fear and in the end all shall be more than worth the effort."

Her eyes were wide with fear and amazement but she said, "I still do not understand but I am yours if you will have me." He smiled and the world for a moment seemed to grow all the more beautiful.

She ran home more excited than she had ever been in her entire life and could not wait to tell her parents all that had come to pass. They sat over supper and eyed her thoughtfully not quite believing her fantastic story. Her mother said when all was accomplished, "Zaria perhaps you should wear your hat on these very sunny days. I do not think the heat does you any good."

Her father said gently, "your mother is right sweetheart, for such dreams often follow a day out in the heat."

She broke into tears, "but it is true, all of it!"

Her father took her in his arms and carried her off to bed all the while whispering condolences in her ear. She cried herself to sleep and in the morning dutifully went about her chores but her heart was not in it. Had it all been a dream? It had been more wondrous and real than anything in waking life; it could not have been imagined. Could it? Her chores finished, she wandered in the woods near the house looking for the hope she had felt only the day before. She sat upon a stump and wept bitterly, feeling as if her heart might break. "Is your faith that small, child?" squawked a magpie sitting on a branch just above her head. She looked up in surprise and the bird seemed to laugh, "less than a day has passed and already you are on the verge of forsaking me simply because others will not believe you. You must know deep within your heart that I am real, more real than even the world about you, and let nothing shake that belief. But it is not easy trying to convince friends and family, especially while yet a child. A prophet is not without honor save perhaps in his hometown. I will take you somewhere that you might learn more of me that your faith not die for lack of water."

She looked at him and smiled, "I thought you were a unicorn."

He laughed, "that is but one guise in which I might appear to mortal men. If I have a true form, what sense would it make to one of your race? If you could even look upon such and live!"

She asked, "how can you spare the time to speak to a weeping girl when there must certainly be other matters throughout all creation that are greater than I?"

He smiled, "and who says those other matters are neglected? I am here, yet I am everywhere. Time and space mean nothing to me. I am at all places at all times, there is nothing too small to escape my notice, especially one of my distraught children. Now will you linger on here in doubt and fear and eventually forsake me for lack of encouragement from your friends and family, or will you come away with me to a place where hope abides?"

She asked, "but what of my family? I would have them know about you as well! I would not keep such joy to myself alone."

He laughed, "I have other servants and will send one to speak to this ignorant people. But it is not yet your task to teach others for you yet know nothing yourself. Come."

She nodded and suddenly the bird hopped from the branch onto her shoulder and again the world spun around her. They stood on a little rise overlooking a fertile valley that was a patchwork of fields and pasture. Beyond it lay a small city (quite grand to Zaria's bucolic eyes) with a modest castle in its midst. The magpie sat on her shoulder and said, "here you shall learn that which you must and then you may travel the world and do much in my name. Farewell child, but I am ever with you!" He leapt into the air and suddenly vanished from sight.

She looked about her at the strange country and thought she had best make for the city if she were to arrive ere dark. It was a lovely country and the folk therein were quite friendly, even to a strange girl upon the road. The guards upon the gates greeted her warmly and did not hinder her passing into the city proper where she gawked like a child at the beasts in a traveling menagerie. Quite shyly she tried to make her case known at the castle gates but it took three attempts before she managed to speak loudly enough and clearly enough that she might be understood. Once they took her meaning she was quickly admitted and just as swiftly introduced to life in Astoria. Her case was quickly brought to the attention of the Lady of Astoria who listened to her tale with fascination; few were those in the mortal world who could claim to have seen the Master in physical form! The girl knew little of geography or the world beyond her village but with a little help from some knowledgeable in that area, they were quickly able to locate her wayward village and the Lady promised to send one of her servants immediately to the little hamlet to speak to them of the Master and his ways.

Karil rode forth immediately for the small village of Golic, lost somewhere in the Northern Wilds from whence the strange girl had suddenly appeared. She wondered what this peculiar little hamlet would think of her tales and the sudden disappearance of one of their young ones. It would be interesting to confront a true community of earth worshippers. Few were the folk in these latter days who had not at least heard of the Master of All. Many folk certainly denied, refused, or ignored him for their own reasons but very few were currently involved in nature worship at this point in the world's history. The journey was made swiftly, but not so quickly that the girl's parents had not worried themselves near to death at the sudden disappearance of their only child. Evening was falling as Karil entered the village and the townsfolk eyed her curiously for there had been few strangers here in the past fifty years and fewer of their own folk had ever left the village. It was as isolated and remote a spot as one could still find south of the Frigid Wastes far to the north. She rode up to the inn, dismounted, and asked her mount to await her return. She entered the inn and was soon followed by a dozen curious village folk.

The innkeeper put down the mug he had been wiping and said in wonder, "amazing! We rarely have visitors from the Outlands! Welcome my lady, welcome indeed! Though I am afraid you find us all a bit off at the moment for a great tragedy has befallen our poor village; one of the local girls has quite suddenly gone missing and has the whole place in an uproar."

Karil smiled and said, "fear not, your missing child is quite safe even though she has vanished as you say. For she is the reason I am come." The heretofore silent villagers suddenly broke into a chorus of disbelief and astonishment, asking questions one atop the other. Karil said, "why not gather the rest of your townfolk, especially the girl's parents that I need only go over this once?" The villagers nodded their approval and vanished as one, leaving the stunned innkeeper alone with his guest.

No sooner had the herd fled than the door opened again and another outlander entered the inn. The innkeeper was beside himself with disbelief, never in all the history of Golic had there been two strangers in the village at the exact same time! The new stranger was a young man with a long nose and eyes to shame any hawk, dressed well but appropriately for travel. He took in the scene with one quick glance, smiled condescendingly at the woman with a sword, and turned his attention to the innkeeper. "Is it true?" asked the stranger in a reedy voice, of the innkeeper.

The man scratched his head and asked, "is what true?"

The stranger sighed expansively and said, "I have traveled halfway across the world to witness for myself the mythic reality of this isolated village and you pretend to not know why I am come?" Karil could hardly keep a smile from her face and the innkeeper scratched his head all the more confusedly.

The man sighed in even more exasperation and said, "I am a scholar of the first order and my area of greatest interest is primitive religions; I have come all this way to observe perhaps the last bastion of neopaganism in the known world. And you tell me you cannot fathom why I am come?" At this Karil did laugh and the innkeeper just stared blankly at the seeming lunatic before him. The man was not at all impressed by either the woman's amusement or the dumbfounded innkeeper; he chose to address the woman saying, "I doubt there are very many armed women riding about the world, especially in so far flung a place as this, who are not bound to the Brethren. As your monotheistic tendencies certainly mean your religion is not in the sphere of the ancient, I have no pressing interest in you thus I would kindly ask that you withdraw, so as not to pollute this virgin spring of untainted pagans. I would also remind you that a scholar of my renown is not to be laughed at."

Karil smiled and said, "I am sorry to disappoint you, but I have errands in the vicinity and cannot leave until they are accomplished. I do not laugh at you sir, but at your assumptions and explanations of the religious undertones in the local area. How is it that these 'neopagans' as you call them have roots far back in the mists of time but the Brethren's ideology has a much more modern date of origination?"

The man smiled condescendingly and said, "you are a monotheistic bunch which means that your religion must have originated later in time than the more natural religions of earth worship and polytheism which certainly precede the former in any sensible scheme of religious evolution."

At this Karil did laugh, "our deepest held beliefs hold that the object of our worship, our very own monotheistic deity: the Master of All, was before all things and brought all things into being and thus instituted religion as pertaining to himself from the very Beginning."

"Of course you would say that my dear," said he placatingly, "all the real hard core religionists of any code or creed must say the same thing. But all objective observers of the religions modern and ancient, agree that the polytheists and earth worshippers were the original believers and only later did monotheism come into vogue. Of course now no sensible person can believe in any sort of religion in a very serious fashion, which is of course the next step in religious and human societal evolution. Believe what you must my dear if it brings you comfort, but alas that you lack the sense to survive without such a crutch."

The puzzled innkeeper just scratched his head and muttered, "outlanders," under his breath. Koril smiled sweetly and said, "it shall certainly be an interesting night I think."

The man was taken aback, "how can you pollute this last outpost of untainted humanity with your myths and corrupt the very fabric of its culture with your foolish tales? They should be left in peace to discover their own destiny and I am here to see how they shall evolve without outside interference. Do you not think it a bit presumptuous to consider their mythology less important or correct than your own? Does not everyone have a right to think and live as they choose?"

Koril laughed and said, "it also seems that you are not unbiased towards my own beliefs. Why are theirs given a chance to flourish while mine must be silenced? Certainly I believe all men must choose what they will believe, but I also believe men have the ability to listen to all the options and then come to an informed decision. My own beliefs hold that I do these folk a much greater disservice by remaining silent and thereby perhaps dooming their souls than by telling them those things most dear to myself and perhaps corrupting their culture as you would call it."

The man sighed, "primitive men must be allowed to live and evolve without the interference of outsiders, save perhaps those brave and bold souls who study such a progression."

Koril laughed, "these men are no more 'primitive' than yourself! They lack none of the intelligence and capabilities necessary to be able to listen to another's words and decide for themselves what is the right and true thing."

The man groused, "that may well be but I do not understand why you Brethren cannot respect the boundaries of others; some find your words quite offensive."

She asked quietly, "why then do my words disturb you when all other beliefs and ideologies in the world are safe and acceptable. Is it that perhaps my words might be true?"

The man scowled, "enough! It is because your words are judgmental. It is one thing to spout such drivel but it is quite another to say that another's beliefs are not just as worthy. How is it that your precious Master is the only Truth?"

She smiled, "do not your own words condemn my beliefs sir? How can there be more than one Truth? Especially, if all your so-called truths conflict with one another? It is not logical." He flushed with anger and fled to the back of the room to begin his observations of these 'primitives' as he thought them, for by now the village folk had all gathered in the common room and were quite eager to hear the words of the female stranger.

The man was quite aghast when she had the temerity to stand up in front of everyone and make known her insane claims, the most outrageous of which was that their missing girl had been miraculously transported to Astoria! She finished proselytizing all and sundry and then the man stood forth for his turn facing the gathered audience, but his part would be to carefully question each member of the community on their current and historic system of belief before the corrupting influence of the Brethren could render his efforts useless. Who knew? Maybe he was the last man on earth to encounter and record such a religion before it became tainted by outside influences? He addressed the yet flummoxed innkeeper and said, "my good man, what is it that your people believe about the origins of the universe, man's purpose on this planet, and our future destiny?"

The innkeeper scratched his head again and said, "I am not rightly sure as of this moment. I guess I never really thought much about it. The young lady seems quite adamant in her beliefs, maybe you should ask her."

The scholar scowled, "I want to know about the prevailing beliefs in this village in the last hundred years, not the thoughts of this nearsighted deist whose corrupting influence has tainted most of the other religions of the world!"

The mayor stood up and said, "I think we believe in some sort of earth mother or goddess or maybe she's a he depending on the person and the day?"

The scholar's jaw dropped in astonishment, "you think you believe?"

An old woman in the back shouted out in a cackling laugh, "that is right son, none of us are quite sure of exactly what we believe. We mostly believe whatever makes us happy and satisfies that sort of yearning. You see, back a hundred years we actually did believe in this Master, or at least so the stories say. But our intrepid ancestors decided that that sort of thing was limiting our ability to enjoy life and that perhaps we did not need the Master after all. So of course they went looking for a new god and stumbled upon her ladyship the earth. It is all sort of muddled but they thought themselves emancipated from ancient mythology and mysticism and now they could live as they pleased without the rigid constraints of their old ways. All knowledge of said Master passed out of our ken with the last of our elders. We were left with nothing but the earth mother and she has ever been a vague and distant lady."

The scholar was nearly beside himself with indignation, "you cannot mean that! Your fine religion must certainly have ancient and venerable roots!"

The old woman laughed, "lying to yourself will not change anything son. For my part I think the young lady has the right of it; you would be wise to listen to her." The villagers had no more patience for the stuffy man but had many eager questions for the young woman. He fumed in silence, forgotten in a far corner of the inn while she spent much of the evening answering a myriad of questions for the truth-starved village folk.

She stayed on for nearly a month expounding upon that which she had begun; the disappointed scholar rode away silently the next morning intent on discovering the truth of the vanished girl for himself. Perhaps he could discredit the woman's perceived miracle and return these people to their original and more interesting beliefs. He rode on until he at last came to legendary Astoria, a city he had dismissed long ago as backwards and full of simpletons with nothing but their legends to cling to for comfort for they could not deal with the harsh realities of life. He approached the guards upon the castle gates imperiously but not without some fear for fools though they be, they certainly looked like they knew the use of the swords on their hips. He made his inquiries after the girl and a servant was dispatched to bring the matter to the attention of their vaunted leader. He did not wait long for the Lady was greatly intrigued by such a guest; she also had the girl in question summoned to stand witness. He was soon bowing himself into her presence. He noticed a young girl already seated as the Lady motioned for him to seat himself in an adjacent chair and help himself to the simple refreshments placed before them. He however stood stiffly behind the proffered seat with his hands moving sporadically upon its back. The girl giggled in wonder to both be sitting as a guest of the Lady and at the strange behavior of the man.

"My Lady," he began, "I have come to see the lies propagated by one of your servants be revealed for what they are. As I speak, she is at this moment corrupting a once free and noble people with the ideals of lesser men."

The Lady laughed, "a true believer I see."

He gaped, "a believer you say? Of what am I such an adherent?"

She smiled, "why you have unquestioning confidence in your own thoughts and opinions. So much so that you feel yourself qualified to judge the hearts and minds of others. You applaud the fact that some should remain in ignorance of our seeming myths and rejoice that you feel yourself above our so-called superstitions. You feel threatened by what we expound, otherwise you would not despise and fear it so, but you would rather consider it as quaint and useless as the beliefs of 'lesser men,' as you call them."

The man gawked in disbelief and hoped she was not right, but some small part of his mind quailed in despair that she had hit the nail squarely upon the head yet that much stronger voice, his ego, soon overcame that miniscule wailing and said, "dream on if you wish Lady, for such as you cannot see yourself objectively as I can. Now what of the tale that this girl was spirited away from her own home by this Master of yours?"

The Lady smiled demurely, "oh he is not my Master, but I am most certainly his. One cannot own such as he, at least not in the sense you suggest. The girl was quite suddenly thrust upon our doorstep in a most miraculous fashion and I dare you to find anyone who can contradict the tale."

He sighed like a man who knew himself speaking to a witless inferior, "Lady let us be blunt. I am not a man inclined to myth. I do not believe in the miraculous or any sort of superstitious hocus pocus. What really happened?"

The Lady smiled and said, "it is as I have said. How can you not believe in miracles when each day we must see several of them? Each breath, each beat of your heart, each sunrise and new baby, and butterfly and star! The whole world is a miracle and each thing in it my friend. The fact that each is considered common does not lessen the wonder but only dulls our senses to the novelty of life. I cannot convince you sir, and I fear you will never allow anyone else to either. It is when we lose that sense of wonder that the world grows dull and pointless and loses all joy and sense of purpose and hope. We must certainly mature in behavior, thought, and wisdom but I pray that our childish sense of joy in the simplest things never ceases to be, else our hearts grow old and cold with it."

He sighed and addressed the girl, "child, how did you came to this place?"

She smiled, "I walked."

He smiled triumphantly and said, "you see Lady, even the child has more sense and truth than you."

The girl continued, "of course it was the Master who brought me to see the city from that hill and then I had to walk fast because it was getting dark." He bowed stiffly to the Lady and walked quickly from her presence wondering if the whole world had gone mad.

The years passed swiftly and the girl one day joined the Brethren and was apprenticed to Koril until at last she was released to attend to adventures of her own. Her wanderings brought her one day back to her own village. The defiant scholar had returned after his failed trip to Astoria to convince the hardheaded villagers that it was all a great lie and that they should believe nothing the Brethren said. They of course were quite intrigued with Koril's words and blatantly ignored the irked scholar. The girl returned to find her family enthralled with their renewed sense of hope and they eagerly welcomed home their long sundered daughter. She spoke with them at length, before again moving on to the next village upon her circuit only to find herself set upon by ten large and well armed men. She of course was forced to surrender, gave up her weapons, and was hooded that she might not see their destination. They traveled for many days until finally they came to a great but crumbling house on the brink of civilized lands.

She was unhooded and allowed to see their destination at last. "What is this place and why have you brought me here?" demanded she of her captors. The leader of the group shrugged silently and motioned for the girl to follow him into the depths of the house. In a great library lit only by the fire upon the massive hearth she found herself facing a middle-aged man in a distinguished looking chair. The bandits bowed themselves out, leaving the pair alone.

"Now," said the man, "you shall tell me the truth. For years this little phenomenon has plagued my mind and at last you will set it to rest. I deny the miraculous and declare you and all your ilk to be liars and frauds. What really happened? How did you come to Astoria? Why would you lie for others?"

She smiled sadly, "all these years you have not yet come to realize that perhaps it is not all true? I told no lies nor have any of my comrades. I cannot lie nor convince you to believe so I fear we are at an impasse."

The man was red but whether from suppressed tears or rage she could not tell. He screamed, "what if I threaten you with death if you do not tell me the truth?"

She said quietly, "even then I would insist that what I have said is just that and it is your stubborn heart that refuses to believe it."

He took a deep breath and seemed to give up all efforts at either despair or rage, slumping in his chair and staring dejectedly at the fire. He said, "I was once the finest and most promising scholar of my acquaintance until I met you and your foolish friends. And here was a puzzle I could not solve and even now all these years later I will not let myself see the answers to the riddle as truth though they hover before my very eyes. Either you are all deluded or I am. Either I will go mad or you must be. I hope you are happy; you have ruined me. You have shattered my faith in myself and all mankind and now what is there left me?"

Her face softened and she was on the verge of speaking when he held up a hand and said, "I do not need your pontification. I know well that which you would say but I want none of your comfort. Be gone from my house and torment me no longer." He rang a little bell and the guard returned and swiftly escorted the lady from the house. She rode away wondering what had just come to pass. He sat there alone in the library and stared blankly at the books. All the amassed glories of human knowledge and none of it brought the joy or peace he thought it should. None of it satisfied the deepest longings of his soul. He had looked into himself and found it terribly dark and drear. He had looked into every corner of human society and wisdom and found nothing of worth. Here was a whole sect of misguided cretins who had more joy and fervent faith in one finger than he had in his entire being. He knew he could have it too, if only he would accept the impossible. But would he?

A Matter of Conscience

Goblins were crafty enemies, the most devious of the unthinking creatures, and on this occasion they proved themselves more than a match for their unfortunate prey. They had taken to the trees that closely overhung the minute trail that was the only road through this part of the Untamed Wilds. Few travelers ever expected to find trouble from above and in this case, the assumption proved disastrous. The creatures had lain in wait for an unwary passerby and then fell upon him with all the viciousness of their kind. They could smell the unicorn, no matter his visage, for he was not masking his scent hoping it would drive off the less daring predators, but a pack of goblins was anything but timid. They fell upon the hapless creature without pity or mercy, neither being a characteristic of their kind, and it was not long before he fell with a terrible scream and faded from existence. His rider was not so fortunate and once the main threat was abolished, they could take their time with their remaining prey. However the fall had rendered him unconscious and this lessened their triumph significantly; they were even worse than cats in their delight at killing their prey slowly and with much torment. Some hooting, howling, and grunting soon decided the matter and one of the younger of the horrid brood was left to mind their victim while the rest went to cause more trouble elsewhere; the young brute was to summon them back at the first sign the man was waking.

Trilby lay lost to the world, he had suffered several bite wounds and deep scratches from his now absent hosts, but none were imminently vital though he was in no shape to attempt an escape from the awful pack. Help must come from without or all hope was lost. And it seemed hope might not have fully forsaken the stricken man for it was not long after the pack's retreat that another rider came down the same trail. The young monster hooted in alarm and raced off into the brush to rouse his companions for he dared not face such a menace alone. The rider drew rein, stared off after the retreating beast knowing it would soon bring more of its kind, and quickly surveyed the situation. It was obvious the man was injured but how badly was anyone's guess, at any rate the whole deadly pack of perpetrators would soon be along so there was little time to waste. He dismounted, searched the abandoned saddlebags idly wondering where the man's horse was, and took anything of interest or value amongst the luggage. He took up the injured man's sword lying forgotten some distance away, thinking the poor fool would soon have no use for it, and then he turned his scavenging attention on the man himself.

He searched the pockets and belt pouch of the stricken man and then hurried back into his saddle as he heard the raging fury of the horde descending quickly upon him. The horse needed no urging and gladly ran for all he was worth away from the wretched beasts. Trilby had started to stir when he sensed the stranger's presence nearby and watched in stunned horror as the stranger rode away without a thought for the man he left to die behind him. There was no more time for thought; the monsters were upon him. A great brute of a male stood upon Trilby's chest in all his ugly glory, howling and carrying on for all he was worth. He leant down and stared deep into Trilby's eyes with his own piggy specimens. Trilby lapsed again into darkness before the monster struck.

A mist of deepest purple and darkest blue surrounded him yet the clearing in which he found himself was neither vague nor dark nor menacing; little lights like errant fireflies wandered about in the nebula about him, echoing the sense of utter peace found in this place. If it were a dream, it was more real than even waking life had been. He wondered from whence that stray thought had come and smiled slightlyknowing it to be true. He was no longer alive as mortals considered the matter but neither was this what he had expected once life had ceased. He was not in the mortal world but neither was he in the Master's bright country; where was he?

"You are Somewhere and Nowhere and Everywhere," came the answer from the Voice that called the stars into being. Trilby suddenly found himself kneeling before what to many men was myth or foggy legend: the Master of All. He felt fear certainly, not mortal terror but something of the smallness one feels when facing mountainous heights for the first time. Perhaps sheer awe was a better word. He felt very small and insignificant yet quite astonished that such as He would address such as himself. The Master seemed to know his thoughts and chuckled quietly at his servant's conundrum.

The Great Unicorn said, "certainly I am much greater than your mind can comprehend and brought Everything into being, but how can that mean that you are too small for my notice and attention? If I am great enough to birth all things, cannot I also be great enough to know all things? The movements of the smallest insect and most insignificant bird are of interest to me, how then can the fate of my dear thinking creatures be any less significant? You are mine willingly and therefore have nothing to fear in my presence. You wonder what this place is? It is neither Here nor There; it is a place that simply Is because I wish it to be. I snatched you out of time before those fell creatures could have their way with you because I have a task to set you thus you have not yet entered my country."

Trilby looked upon the Great Unicorn curiously, wondering what strange task yet lay before him. Those great eyes so full of sorrow and greater joy looked upon him and said, "the man that failed to lend you aid in your moment of greatest need will soon find himself hounded relentlessly by his conscience. You are to be there when he finally begins to ask questions rather than trying to hide from his past. Long have I called to him but just as long has he ignored or run from me. Soon there will come a day when he can no longer choose to turn from the darkness and it shall consume him utterly. You will offer him at least one more chance."

Trilby's eyes were wide with surprise, "I am to live again and follow after him?"

The Master shook his great head in amusement and said, "nay child, but in dreams and visions his guilty conscience will see you until at last he comes to ask how he might be free of such pains."

Trilby smiled wryly, "I thought ghosts lived only in legend."

The Master said grimly, "I allow no spirit to wander at will. Some I send abroad on errands of my own, but no restless ghoul is allowed to roam at large. You are no ghost, but quite yourself and solely a messenger doing my bidding. Once you have accomplished your task you shall return to your proper place." Trilby bowed his head in acknowledgement and suddenly all was black about him.

Zark rode swiftly away from the grim pack feeling only terror for his own skin, little thinking of the man he had left to die horribly behind him. Finally, the horde far behind and the horse near exhaustion, Zark slowed to a saner pace. Evening was swiftly coming on and Zark happily turned in at the miniscule inn that appeared before him in the midst of a tiny village. There was little traffic in this part of the Wilds but there were enough locals to keep the inn in business, if only through the sale of alcohol. He turned the exhausted animal over to the stable lad and eagerly sought the common room for some much needed rest and refreshment. Zark had no interest in supper, but had a bottomless thirst for the local brew. After his third mug he finally began to relax after the day's harrowing trial. He began to think over his ill-gotten plunder though the thought did not bring much joy to his haggard face.

The man had little of value save his sword and a few odd coins. Worse, the thought brought a terrible reminder of the fate to which he had abandoned the man. Certainly he was a stranger and might have put himself in mortal danger had he stopped to help; what right did the fool have to demand aid of Zark at such a time, especially at such a risk to himself? Zark consoled himself with this grim logic and another mug of ale. Well past midnight and swaying with the aftereffects of drink, Zark made his way towards his room. In the feeble light of the candle, he saw a face in the mirror that drained all the color from his own, dropping the candle in his terror. He picked up the struggling flame before he set the inn afire and stared with horror again into the mirror but saw there only his own ragged and wan visage. He laughed tremulously, blew out the candle and sought his bed.

Long did he lay awake wondering if it was simply a trick of the light and his addled nerves or did he truly see a ghost? Trilby stood in the room, apparently unseen by mortal eyes, save perhaps as a brief reflection in the mirror. Trilby watched the man frantically set his candle upright before flinging himself desperately into bed, after which Trilby suddenly vanished. Over the next several weeks, only moments to Trilby's senses, the apparition appeared again and again for brief moments reflected in mirrors, standing water, and even the still surface of a mug of ale. Zark was a mess. He was desperate to rid himself of the vision, but the more he drank the more often it appeared. He tried to ignore it and his own conscience but the latter gained a greater voice with each glimpse of the apparition. He rode to other inns, tried to avoid reflective surfaces, and tried never to be alone, but ever the vision and his own mind reeled with desperation and guilt over what he had done. Finally he fell into a deep sleep, exhausted with his own feverish guilt and endless anxiety.

He was not surprised to find the ghost in his dreams. Zark said to the figure, "why must you haunt me? You have driven me near to suicide with your endless appearances and my mind is fraying at the edges! I have done nothing wrong so leave me in peace."

Trilby smiled, "had you done nothing wrong your conscience would not be bothering you and brief glances of me would in no way unsettle you."

"You are dead," whined Zark, "can you not leave the living in peace? What power have you over me or what can I do to rid myself of your presence?"

Trilby laughed, "I gain nothing by haunting you, as you would call it, nor have I any way to influence you for good or for ill; neither can you do anything for or about me. I however can tell you how to rid yourself of this inexorable guilt."

The man was desperate for peace but skeptical about such an offer from such a source, "and who is to say I have done anything wrong? I would have gotten myself killed had I waited around to help you!"

Trilby said, "then why does your conscience bother you so?"

Zark growled, "you tell me, oh man who knows my conscience so well!"

Trilby nodded calmly and sat down saying, "if you had been in such fear for your life, you should have taken one look at the situation and ridden on in terror. Cowardly certainly, but perhaps justifiable in the circumstances, but you did not simply ride on, you lingered long enough to take any valuable trinkets and then fled without a second thought when it became clear your own life was in danger. If you had time to rob the moribund you certainly had time to render aid even if you failed in the attempt."

Zark sighed, "very well I am guilty as you suggest. Now what am I to do about it? How am I to rid myself of your awful presence and the nagging guilt of my own heart?"

Trilby smiled gently, "you can do nothing but the Master can certainly heal the most grievous wounds of heart. It was he that sent me thus."

Zark scoffed, "so some character out of the storybooks sent a ghost to guilt me into confessing his existence? I think not. My soul shall not be blackmailed thus. Neither do I believe in him you claim to have sent you. Be gone fell spirit and leave me in peace."

"You are wise not to trust this lying ghost," snarled a strange and vicious voice, "he wishes nothing less than the total annihilation of your soul!"

Zark backed away from a great, two-legged reptile with flaming eyes that suddenly appeared in the midst of his dream. While Trilby's presence unsettled him, this monstrosity chilled him to the bone. "What have you to do with me?" gasped Zark.

"Believe him not," said Trilby grimly, moving to stand between Zark and the monster, "he is a fell servant of the Nameless One and certainly not to be trusted."

"And who are you to treat with me fool?" snarled the beast, "your master shall one day bow to mine and then you shall not escape your due. Leave this pitiful creature to me, the sphere of the living is no longer of consequence to you!"

Trilby said grimly, "the Master has sent me thus and so shall it be until he draws me back. I will not yield for the likes of you."

Zark said to the serpent, "and what has your master to offer if I do not like the words of this deceased prophet?"

The serpent hissed rapturously, "why power undreamed and freedom from all fear, guilt, and anxiety."

"What must I do?" asked Zark skeptically, "must I lay my soul at your master's feet as some might demand of me?"

The creature scoffed, "you have only to reach out and take it; my master cares nothing for such groveling as some would ask."

Trilby said, "that is because his master gains your soul regardless, unless it is in the Master's keeping! You need not acknowledge him master yet he is your master nonetheless."

Zark sneered, "I am a logical man and not prone to fits of fancy, especially as encountered in a dream after such anxious days and much drink. I will bow to neither of your schemes and must therefore work through my fits of conscience in my own way."

Trilby said quietly, "you may quash your conscience or deaden it but that will not spare your soul from eternal darkness nor from much pain and sorrow while you tread mortal soil. The Master alone can spare you from both if only you will humbly submit to Him."

"You are a fool to ignore me wretch," sneered the serpent, "this pathetic ghost can do nothing to touch you in the mortal world, but my master has servants who lack no such talent. You will submit to me or you will not live long hereafter."

"Enough!" shouted Zark, "both of you blathering apparitions be gone and leave me in peace. I need no superstition in my life and I certainly shall not succumb to such fanciful threats as these. Be gone both of you!"

"You have been warned," laughed the serpent, "submit to my associates in the near future or regret it for all eternity."

Zark asked, "and what awaits beyond death for those who submit to your dark master?"

The serpent hissed mysteriously, "they find the reward appropriate to their service." It laughed darkly and suddenly vanished.

The bitter chill left Zark's bones and he looked again to Trilby, "and what of you? Will you continue to haunt me all my days? I shall not submit to such strange logic. I must deal with this thing myself and I need not your Master's pity nor forgiveness to do so."

Trilby shook his head grimly, "ware the monster's words for he is right in saying darker days are coming. The Master is ever there if you are only willing to seek him. I shall bother you no longer." Suddenly Zark was alone in his own mind and his dreams turned to things dark and frightful that vanished upon waking.

Zark awoke the next morning refreshed and finally managed to ignore the raging voice of his conscience, which eventually fell silent or became an unheard thought in the darkest reaches of his mind. He had done what any rational, self-serving human being would have done. The man was certainly doomed, there was no logical reason why he should share that fate, nor why the spoil should be left to the mindless brutes. He laughed to himself and continued upon his road with a lighter heart; the dark warnings of the reptile were soon forgotten but they were not in vain.

Trilby found himself again in the swirling mist lit throughout with the flitting lights, tears stung his eyes as he knelt again before his Maker thinking himself a failure. He could not raise his head to meet those fathomless eyes but he felt himself drawn to do just that by a power he could not deny. He found there love, such love as no mortal heart could fathom and sorrow far greater than his own. "Weep not child for you have not failed me," spoke that voice so gentle yet so firm, "we can only offer, it is for each thinking soul to accept or deny Me as he or she will. I will not force myself upon an unwilling soul yet neither can I draw them back once they have irrevocably denied me. Come, there is one last chance you can offer our reluctant friend, perhaps this time he shall choose wisely. You ride again into mortal danger and either way, your sojourn shall be short among the living. Neither shall you go alone." He smiled deeply and joy tingled in the air while the flitting lights quickened their danced. At the familiar whicker, Trilby turned his head to look upon his dearest friend and sundered companion: the unicorn that had preceded him in death.

He flung his arms joyfully around the great beast's neck and the creature greeted his friend just as enthusiastically. Content in their reunion, both looked upon the Master who said, "this ride shall be short, but for one soul's sake it is vital. I shall certainly ride with you."

Trilby pulled himself into the saddle and the unicorn screamed in eagerness, pawing the air. A small rent appeared in the mist like a window upon another world. Together they dashed out of the quiet peace of the Master's presence again into the mortal world of sorrow and grief. It was a dark night and the moon was low on the horizon but there was light enough to see a lone rider with half a dozen dark horsemen in close pursuit. The unicorn came quickly upon them and momentarily sent the clumped horses into a panicked frenzy while their riders struggled to maintain control. The exhausted horse of their quarry ran all the faster at the terror just behind him, but he had not the endurance to go much farther. He collapsed in a sweaty heap in the midst of a clearing, throwing his rider who hastened to his feet with sword drawn. The imminent threat past, the pursuing riders again gained control of their mounts and followed after the menace that had just appeared to interfere in their schemes. As they raced madly into the clearing they drew forth their bows and felled the terrible creature with arrows; again the unicorn screamed in agony and vanished from sight. Trilby stood, shaking his head grimly, wondering how often the poor creature must die thus. He drew his own blade and stood betwixt the dark men and their prey.

"Spare his life if you can lads, as he will come in handy tonight if things proceed as they must," laughed one of the dark men as they dismounted and drew their swords to confront their prey. Trilby wondered what on earth they were talking about but planted himself firmly between the approaching men and poor Zark, who was white as death from the harried chase and the realization of who was defending him.

"You!" gasped the man, "I thought you had no power over the living."

Trilby laughed grimly, "I live again, at least for the moment, though it is likely neither of us is long for this world. Remember well what I have said, for tonight you may forever rue your previous stubbornness."

Zark growled, "I want no part of anyone's superstition, least of all yours."

The leader of the dark men said, "we will certainly kill your friend here man but you need not share his fate. Join us and your life will be spared, else you can join him in an unmarked grave."

Zark sneered, "what right have you to pursue me this night and interfere with my previous plans. I just want to be left in peace."

"Sorry lad," laughed the man, "orders are orders. We could care less for such a paltry thing as the rights of the individual. Now will you be joining us or will this be the end?"

Zark snarled, "I will not believe in your nameless master."

The dark man laughed, "you need not believe, simply obey." The men kept their distance but they had no qualms about using their bows at close range. Three bowstrings sang in the night and Trilby went to his knees grimacing in pain; arrows protruded from both of his legs and his abdomen. "Take him," ordered the leader. Two of the dark men approached the wounded man; Trilby had not the strength to defend himself and they easily captured him. "Now what of you?" laughed the evil man, "you have one choice left to save your life. Kill this fool, promise to obey our orders, and you shall not only live but gain power unimaginable. Well?"

Zark grinned sardonically, "I have no wish to die. My conscience has already haunted me with my part in this man's death, why not give it something to be truly upset about? I still do not believe in your grim master but the power you speak of is tantalizing and surely better than death. I shall submit to your wishes."

"Do not do such a thing!" gasped Trilby who only earned himself a bloody lip for his trouble.

Zark laughed, "finally I can put my past to rest, at least as it concerns yourself. I give you back to the Master who has sent you and given me such pains in the process."

They handed the man an ugly dagger and Zark heard the dark man say, "kill him and seal yourself to our cause, gain power undreamed!"

Zark laughed hopelessly, "I hardly know what it is I do, but it is surely better than death."

The dark man laughed uproariously, "you care not that this man was willing to give his life for yours?"

Zark shrugged, "the more fool is he, let us tarry no longer." He plunged the blade into the irritating man's heart and actually found the sensation quite agreeable, but even more pleasant was the amazing power he felt welling within himself, power enough perhaps to rival the very gods he once denied.

Zark found himself paired up with the speaker of the previous night as something of an apprentice in a little society they called the Brotherhood of the Serpent. He had certainly seen one of their hideous serpents, but still doubted the veracity of their devotion to the so-called Evil One but the strange abilities he now possessed must surely stem from somewhere. More importantly his objectionable conscience now seemed cloaked in a stifling veil of darkness and nearly ceased to bother him. They rode south for some days and finally came to a little cluster of farms where Lurch said they had business. It seemed their whole reason for being was to work to further the plans of their much feared master by fomenting discord and chaos in the wide world. The local lord was a tyrant and had raised taxes to the point of stifling his once prosperous farmers. A few rebels in this part of the land were refusing to pay their share, saying their children were starving and this was causing some others to think twice about doing the same. The whole domain was in danger of rebelling against their lord. Usually such discord would benefit the plans of the Brotherhood, but as this lord was a tyrant they wished to ensure his continued success. They were to murder the leaders of the opposition and terrify the rest into cooperation. Zark asked, "are we to kill only the men or everyone?"

Lurch laughed, "I hope you do not have a soft heart boy because we will kill them all, even a newborn babe."

Zark felt his heart sink but philosophically reminded himself that it was better them than him. He sighed and settled in to wait until all had gone to bed when they could strike at their leisure. The darkest watch of the night had fallen when Lurch motioned for them to move. The first farm on their list of targets had been silent since they had arrived after nightfall. A dog barked as they made their entrance but some fell spell of Lurch's quickly silenced the annoyance. They crept in the kitchen window with swords bared and suddenly Lurch found himself under attack. A man in the uniform of the Brethren had lain in wait for this long expected attack and whirled about in a deadly dance with his foe. Zark crept in swiftly after and dealt the ambusher a mortal blow to the chest, but not before their foe had done the same to Lurch. Both fell clutching at their wounds and breathing raggedly. A shrill equine scream of grief and rage filled the night and the creature ran to the door and desperately began kicking at the strong oaken door, hoping to reach his stricken master's side. Zark stared from one to the other, not knowing what to do.

"Finish him fool and then make an end of the rebels," growled Lurch.

Zark threw down his sword, "I am not sure I wish to serve you any longer. It seems the threat against my life is ended and I will leave you fine gentlemen to die for your separate causes. Good evening." He screamed as a dagger thrown by his former associate pierced his own chest.

"Think you that you can escape so easily?" growled Lurch, "you shall die with the rest of us traitor and then your soul is lost for all eternity after what you have done."

The dying Brother gasped out, "never too late to seek the Master."

Zark laughed derisively, "it seems he has done much to aid your plight. I will perhaps acknowledge his existence is that enough?"

Lurch laughed, "even the Nameless One does that. Would you prostrate yourself before him as these pathetic fools are wont to do?" The unicorn outside gave a pathetic whinny and disappeared into the night, having felt his master die. Lurch laughed to see his foe precede him in death but did not linger long after, dissolving thereupon into a fetid puddle of goo.

Zark stared in horror from the corpse to the puddle and back, wondering what was left for him to do. He would not acknowledge the Master no matter what it cost him. The room darkened, save for the gentle glow of a unicorn that suddenly appeared before Zark. It was the Master himself come to give the wretched man one last chance. Zark snapped, "I do not care who or what you are, I do not need nor want you. Be gone and leave me in peace!" The Master said nothing but the sorrow within those great eyes deepened greatly and Zark found himself on the brink of tears yet he would not relent. He would die as no one's slave. And so he did. The darkness deepened around him and the Master gave him one last look, this of a judge passing sentence and Zark knew there was no dispute. He quivered at the wretched life he had left behind but quailed before all eternity that lay ahead with nothing but the dark and his own uneasy thoughts for company. The Master vanished and then all was darkness ever after.

### A Reluctant Queen

"You will marry the King of Saracen whether you like it or not child," scolded the King to his second oldest daughter of fourteen, "your elder sister is far too homely to make a pleasing wife and the alliance will certainly prevent a war! You leave at dawn with a grand entourage upon your nuptial journey."

"But father!" gasped Katia, "the man is nearly sixty and has been married eight times. It is said his previous wives have succumbed to a broken heart, if not worse. I will not live to see twenty!"

The King sighed, "perhaps it is just rumor. But whatever may come, you will do as you are told and consider your sacrifice an honorable duty to your people."

Tears stung her eyes, "such alliances have not prevented him from making war with his neighbors in the past, what is there to prevent him now?"

The King frowned, "you listen too much to that prattling Advisor from Astoria. You would be better served to perfect your womanly charms rather than listen to political history lessons from that old fool. Women were not meant to think! Go to your chambers and prepare for the morrow, I will not change my mind."

She gave him one last desperate look and ran from his presence sobbing; his heart quailed a moment in pity, but he sternly rebuked himself that it was a political necessity and she must learn to sacrifice just like he had for the good of the Itria. He was drawn back from his silent thoughts as the aforementioned Advisor cleared his throat and stood in the corridor waiting the King's pleasure. "What is it now?" demanded the King.

The man said patiently, "I am sorry to bother you Majesty in this desperate moment. My business is not urgent and it can wait." He bowed deeply and retreated the way he had come. The King scowled after him for a moment but was soon lost again to his silent brooding.

The Advisor found the sobbing girl in a quiet corner of the gardens and said quietly, "I heard your dire news when I came to speak with your father. What are you going to do?"

She looked upon him with surprised eyes, "what am I going to do? What is there to do but my duty?"

He sighed, "what you said to your father is correct. You will not live long in the presence of such a terrible lord and even such an alliance will not keep him from attacking Itria. Could you prevent a war, it might perhaps be worth the price but this is nothing but suicide. You cannot remain here."

"What am I to do?" gasped the girl.

He smiled gently and said, "that you must decide for yourself. I would advise you to ride for Astoria, but as to the how that you must devise on your own for if I knew your plans I would be forced to betray them if questioned upon the subject."

She nodded grimly, thanked her dear tutor for his advice, and vanished into the castle to begin devising her plans for escape. He stared after, wondering what would become of the poor girl. She retreated to her rooms and summoned her most faithful servant and said, "I must leave tonight and in secret else all is lost. We may never see one another again. You have served me faithfully since we were little more than girls and this is perhaps the last thing I shall ask of you." She briefly outlined her plans and both wept at the thought of forever being sundered but not long enough to interfere with their desperate plans. Katia was certain that the King would suspect that she might try to escape this night and knew she would never be allowed into the stable or especially out of the castle gates, but a servant could go almost anywhere at anytime unquestioned for they would not dare such unless ordered about by some person of importance.

The girl went to the kitchens and said her mistress did not feel like eating and then both withdrew to the princess' chambers until late in the evening. When all was silent, Katia slipped into the livery worn by the servants. The real servant went to the kitchens and took what provisions her mistress might need upon the journey. Katia packed the necessities for such a journey and met the servant in a small corridor outside the kitchens and took the parcel of food. They made their farewells and the servant returned to their chambers while Katia made her way to the stables. At this hour of the night, all were gone to bed save one junior stable boy who would wake the others if an emergency arose. He gaped to see the princess in the guise of a servant in the stable at such an hour, but quickly helped her saddle a plain looking horse and secure her baggage behind the saddle.

"You must cut your hair," said the boy bluntly.

She stared at him, "what?"

He smiled shyly and said, "if you wish to escape unnoticed you must look the part of an errand boy sent with some vital message. Your beautiful locks were never seen on such a lad."

She nodded grimly and almost reverently he helped her trim her hair roughly with a belt knife. He gave her a shapeless hat and she smiled grimly, "thank you for your help."

He bowed awkwardly and said, "you have ever been kind to me lady. I do not know your trouble but I will keep your secret. Farewell."

She climbed into the saddle and rode swiftly away, the guards upon the gates did not bother stopping a messenger obviously leaving in haste on some desperate business of dire importance. It was a busy night for messages apparently for after the girl left, three other riders left one after the other. The guards scratched their heads but made no move to stop the emigrants.

Katia rode on well into the morning hoping to put as much distance between herself and the castle before she was missed and pursued, but her horse stumbled, nearly unseated her, and refused to go further. With much frustration she slid from the saddle to inspect the horse and find the reason for his reluctance to go on. The reason was quite obvious, the creature had thrown a shoe and the offending foot was now lame. She sighed and led the animal off the road and out of sight, wondering what to do. She glanced around desperately for inspiration, near to panic at the delay; her eyes fell upon a small cottage set some distance back in the woods. She smiled and hoped the local herbalist could help her. Katia secured the animal behind the cottage and then returned to the front and knocked upon the door. A comely woman in her middle years beckoned the girl to enter, wondering why a girl with a bad haircut in the King's livery stood at her door.

"I need help," gasped the princess, "my horse has thrown a shoe and can go no further until attended to and I must leave Itria at once."

Intrigued, the woman said, "calm yourself child. Come, have some tea and we shall discuss your problem." Katia chaffed at the delay but desperately needed the help so endured the woman's hospitality as patiently as she could. She was not sure if she could trust the woman, but perhaps her pitiful tale would touch the woman's heart. Katia poured out her story and the woman's face was one of infinite patience and calm but her eyes widened in surprise and speculation as the girl spoke. "And what would you have of me child?" asked the woman once the girl had finished.

Katia said, "I need another horse or perhaps a place to hide. Whatever happens I must not be found by those seeking me."

The woman smiled and said, "then you had best change clothes and stay for a time, until we can safely smuggle you from the country." The girl smiled deeply and in her joy drew the woman close in a grateful hug.

The woman clad the girl as a peasant boy and did what she could to disguise her female attributes. If one did not look too close, the girl was easy to overlook as just another peasant lad going about his chores. The King had sent out soldiers to find the girl when it was discovered that she was fled, but it was a large country and the girl could be anywhere within or beyond its borders by now. Two days passed and the girl began to relax, hoping that perhaps she was finally out of danger. She did odd jobs for the woman and began to wonder if perhaps she might not accept the woman's offer to stay on indefinitely and learn the art of herbs and healing. That night they sat over supper and the girl asked, "I had thought to ride to Astoria and seek refuge there, but I am very interested in the healing arts. Are they not practiced by the Brethren?"

Her host smiled and said, "there are some I am sure with some minor skill, but it is not their main area of interest or purpose. Their intent is more upon justice, peace, and the passing on and preservation of lore and history rather than in healing and other more useful skills. They do not go in for the crafts and skills necessary for civilized life, leaving such things to lesser folk. I am sure they think they are doing something good for the world, but craftsmen and artists they certainly are not."

A look of confusion played across Katia's face at this statement of irreverence for a group she had respected all her life. The woman smiled, "child, I have no use for your precious Brethren. If they ceased to be life would still go on for the majority of us, but if all the blacksmiths and healers vanished from the face of the earth civilization itself would collapse."

Katia said carefully, "I have heard rumors about certain healers, it is said that their skills spring not from nature but from a more sinister source. Is this part of your antipathy towards the Brethren?"

The woman scoffed. "we are an independent and stubborn lot, not easily placed in a box like your Brethren who are all the same. We can believe, think, and act however we please. A certain number of us certainly lean towards what some call the dark arts to aid our healing abilities, but there are others that hold that these arcane skills are not as bad as all that for they say the power comes not from an evil source but from the benign spirits of the woods. Of course it is only some of us that go in for that sort of thing. Others are strictly dealers in herbs and natural cures, staying well away from anything of a more supernatural nature; these of course have a much less successful practice but they assure me that their lives and minds and perhaps even their souls are much lighter and freer than those who delve into the mysterious."

"And of which persuasion are you?" asked the girl with wide eyes.

The woman laughed, "I do not go in for evil dabblings, of course. Drink your tea and then I have more work for you to be about." The girl nodded dutifully, much relieved at her host's assertions, took up her cup, took a long draught, and with a gasp of surprise slumped unconscious on the table.

A sinister voice said, "what was that about evil dabblings?"

The herbalist laughed, "I am no witch but I do know a thing or two about herbs. I never said I was a saint either nor am I one to turn down such a chance at profit. She will sleep for six to ten hours, after that you are on your own."

The dark man nodded and went to collect his prey. He had been lurking about the castle for months by the order of his much dreaded masters and had been doing his best to foment war between Itria and Saracen. When he saw the girl flee after her father's proclamation he knew his chance had come. He had ridden out in pursuit of her and followed her to this place where he had made a profitable offer to the woman who readily agreed. He placed the girl on the horse and then crawled up behind her in the saddle. It was a dark night so he rode slowly that his horse not stumble along the way. He mused as to what he should do with the girl. He could return her to her father and perhaps gain a trusted place within his court. He could give her into the hands of her affianced and perhaps do the same. Or he could dispatch her and blame it on one side or the other and the more easily foment war. Or she could quietly disappear and the King of Saracen might ride to war all the sooner. He sighed, the best option was certainly delivering the girl into the hands of the Saracen King and telling a tale of heroic escape and treachery on the part of Itria. He smiled, such a story would do nicely and provide him with ample reward as well as progressing his master's plans. His introspections were cut short as his horse stopped abruptly.

The dark man glanced up and found another rider blocking the path with his sword at the ready. The dark man growled under his breath, it was the Brethren's Advisor to the King. "Let her go," said Markor.

The dark man scoffed, "and how did you find me?"

Markor smiled, "I followed you after you followed the girl. Let her go and I will spare your life."

The dark man scoffed, "and what is my life worth if she is lost to me? Move aside or she dies." He held his knife to her throat to show he meant business.

Markor sighed and said, "will you take me in her stead?"

The dark man scoffed, "and what would that avail me? She is a valuable prisoner, you are just another nuisance."

Markor's response was cut short by a grunt of pain as an arrow grazed his shoulder. The two men looked around in confusion as half a dozen men armed with bows and swords surrounded them. Their leader laughed, "throw down your weapons lads and you might not get hurt. Now who are you and why are you detaining my lord's bride?"

The dark man scowled, "and who might you be? I have big plans for this girl and you dare stand in my way? You are as annoying as this pious fool! Move aside ere you regret it." The men did not cower in terror as he had hoped, instead they laughed uproariously. He had the power to manipulate them, at least individually but it seemed the presence of one of the Master's servants and a unicorn hindered that ability significantly.

Once the men had quieted in their mirth, the leader said, "we are Knights of Saracen come to fetch home our lord's beloved whom you are holding captive at the moment. One of my spies saw her flee and alerted me to the danger. We were waiting in Itria to escort her to her waiting fiancé and now we shall do just that. I would put up that dagger if I cherished my life. Now who are you?"

The dark man snorted in irritation, "my annoying friend is the Brethren's Advisor to the King of Itria and was trying to stop me from taking the girl. I am a man with great designs on this girl and what she will mean for my future. I will give her into your keeping if you will tell your lord the part I played in her capture."

The soldier laughed harshly, "you will be lucky to keep your life fool. As for your friend, I am sure the King will be delighted to make an end of him. He has no use for such as he and nothing pleases him more than to watch them die horribly."

The dark man said, "my life is forfeit unless I gain something out of this failed scheme so what does it matter if you spare my life? Perhaps I should just kill the girl and be done with it."

The captain's eyes widened and he said, "let us not be hasty now. I will put in a good word to the King and I am sure he will hear you out."

The dark man turned to Markor, "does he speak truly."

Markor nodded, "he tells the truth."

The dark man smiled, "see that you do not disappoint me or you will regret it sorely. But take my advice and kill the fool and his mount before they cause further problems."

The captain laughed as one of his men relieved the dark man of the sleeping girl, "there is no point in killing a perfectly good horse. You cannot tell me you believe in those stories the Brethren pass around that they actually ride unicorns! He will die soon enough."

Markor and the girl were quickly bound and kept in the center of the group as hostages while the dark man was allowed to move about as he pleased. He chaffed at his helplessness to use his dark powers to affect the men. Had they done as he had asked and killed the annoying pair, they would have been powerless before him. As it was, he was now fully dependent upon them for his future longevity. His masters were not keen on failure and made startling examples of such when they could. He did not wish to become such a byword if he could help it. The girl woke sometime the following morning when the small company had made camp for the day. They traveled only at night until they were safely beyond the borders of Itria. She gasped to find herself in such a predicament but was even more startled to find Markor in the same situation. He smiled ruefully but had no plans as to how to get out of this strange situation. The unicorn was ready to fight his way out or more likely die trying but his master held him firm while there was yet some hope of escape, but the closer they got to Saracen the dimmer that hope became.

The dark man whispered quietly to Markor one day as the others dozed, "I have a plan to free ourselves and the girl, after that we can discuss this matter further."

Markor nearly laughed, "I cannot cooperate with you even did I wish it."

The dark man growled, "what did your precious Oath ever gain you? Can you not see that you are going to die! Forsake your vows and save your life fool." Markor shook his head grimly and no more was said on the matter.

They soon left Itria far behind and were well into Saracen and soon within the royal palace. The King soon had the whole party standing before him in the great hall. He laughed grimly as his captain told the tale. He looked the girl over as one might a spirited horse, liking what he saw. The King said to the girl, "your father is a fool to think that by sacrificing you to my appetites it would spare his Kingdom. Even now I am massing for war upon your pitiful country. You however will serve as an amusement while you last. Take her to her chambers."

"And who are these fools captain?" asked the King examining the dark man and Markor.

The captain said, "one is the Brethren's advisor to the girl's father and the other had a hand in capturing your renegade bride."

He looked over the two carefully and said to the dark man, "you seem a cunning fellow, what would you have for aiding my men in the capture of the rebellious girl?"

The man smiled in his most sycophantic manner and said, "I wish nothing more than to serve as your aid and advisor my lord."

The King laughed darkly, "would you now? I have and need no advisors. I am wise enough to know my own mind. You are a fool to think that flattery will gain you anything with me; I am no such fool. In fact, I can see that you are of a dangerous and devious mind, perhaps equal to my own. I will suffer no such rival or danger within my own realm. Thus you will share in the fate of your scrupulous friend here and amuse the court this afternoon and tomorrow I shall be married."

The dark man's face turned several shades of red and was nearly purple with rage as he said, "you dare defy me!" The King laughed and the guards escorted them away.

"Now what?" asked the stunned dark man of the captain as they were escorted from the King's presence.

The captain smiled in anticipation, "the King has quite a menagerie of rare and terrible beasts, now and then he likes to amuse the court by pitting his pets against his enemies. He has just acquired a Great Northern she-bear and he is quite eager to see if she is as dangerous as rumor holds. I do not think it will be long and you will discover this for yourselves."

He left them together in a small holding cell to wait while the preparations were made for the afternoon's entertainment. "This is all your fault," growled the dark man to Markor, "if you had had the decency to either die or cooperate I could have dealt with those soldiers quite easily. Now we are both dead men and your precious princess is doomed to the same fate as before while Itria will feel the wrath of Saracen. You are quite a failure I think."

Markor said evenly, "things seem hopeless I suppose but while life lasts there is always hope. I may not succeed but others shall take up what I lay down."

The dark man threw himself down in one corner and sighed, "do you Brethren never despair? What is the fun in tormenting a man who will not give up?"

Markor laughed, "how can one despair who trusts in the source of all hope?"

The dark man growled, "where is your hope now?"

Markor shrugged and said, "we shall see."

Preparations were quickly made and within an hour, the court had gathered around the arena the King had had built for just such an occasion and the prisoners were shoved out a small door into the great sandy circle surrounded on all sides by high walls behind which sat the spectators in tiered seats. The spectacles were open to the public and attendance was required of all who could come. It served as a very efficient example of what happens to people who disagreed with the King.

A gate on the far side of the ring was opened and a huge bear lumbered out into the arena, blinking after the darkness of its cage. The creature was huge and each paw boasted the largest claws either man had ever seen. She sniffed the air and looked about her in confusion. She was hungry and worse, grumpy from being roused from a nap and forced out into the bright sunshine. She approached the walls but found she could not scale them or reach the eager spectators on the other side. Then she noticed the pathetic humans in the ring with her. She gave a great roar and in a lumbering run charged the prisoners. The dark man shouted in triumph, "I may be a dead man but I die of my own volition. You however must face the wrath of the bear!"

His exultation was cut short as he watched Markor's eyes widen in surprise, his hand went to his chest as if he felt some strange sensation there, and then he collapsed as if dead. He sighed, wishing that there had been even one witness to this perceived triumph, however small and willed himself to die; his last thought was how utterly unfair it was that no matter what his powers, the Brethren always seemed to ruin his moments of victory. The bear reached the place where her prey had been. She growled in confusion and sniffed first at the black puddle that was all that remained of the dark man; she snorted in disgust and wiped the sticky liquid from her nose. She then nosed at Markor but found nothing of interest in one already dead. She grumbled in confusion and frustration and lumbered around the arena until someone opened the gate back to her lair. The audience was silent in amazement.

The King stood and called to the captain of the guard, "what has happened? Where are the blood and the screams and the terror? How can two perfectly healthy men just fall over dead? I want my amusement! Have we no other prisoners?"

The captain saluted and went to find other victims to sate the King's wrath while various servants set the arena to rights. The soiled sand was removed and the dead man drug into the depths of the castle where he might be put to good use. In the lowest dungeon toiled a man whose job it was to prepare the meat for the King's fearsome creatures and it was in this room upon a pile of carrion that they laid Markor. All such victims, or whatever was left of them, eventually found their way to that pile and then into the bellies of the King's vile stock, but the pile also contained a number of goats, sheep, calves, and other creatures acquired by various means. The man in charge of the preparations did not differentiate between a lamb or a man for to him a corpse was a corpse and the animals must be fed. He finished dressing the goat upon which he had been working and then made ready to put the man to good use. But the man stirred at his touch. He scratched his head in confusion and thought he must be seeing things but then the man moved again and then, shaking his head sat up.

His nose wrinkled at the scent of death thick around him and started in surprise to see a large man with a blood-spattered apron standing over him with a grim looking knife. Markor glanced down in further surprise at the pile of carrion upon which he sat. He stood shakily, ready to defend himself but the man just stood there and stared blankly, scratching his head. Ignoring the reinvigorated corpse, the man reached into the pile, took up a different victim, and returned to his place and his duties. Markor watched in astonishment. The man continued to ignore him and did not seem intent on raising the alarm. His business was with dead things and if a thing were not dead it was no business of his.

Markor shook his head in astonishment and began poking about the dismal rooms, hoping to find a change of clothes that he might somehow blend in with the invisible servants that kept the castle running. He found a small storage room off to one side and within found a rough garment worn by the laborers who hauled water, chopped wood, and removed refuse. No longer stinking of death or looking like an enemy of the state, Markor crept off to find a place to await nightfall when his mission would begin. He still marveled at the fact that he was alive. The bear was nearly upon them when suddenly he had felt himself snatched away, leaving the bear to nose about in confusion over his body. Once the danger was past, the Master sent him back to his body with instructions to free the princess who must flee back to Itria with a warning that war would soon be upon them. Darkness fell and the more regal inhabitants of the castle went to bed while the less dignified came out to attend to their duties. Night was when the floors were mopped, and all the myriad chores required to keep the castle in good order, but which were too vulgar to noble sensibilities to be done during waking hours, were accomplished. Markor passed unremarked as just another common laborer going about his chores.

He found a soldier dozing by a pillar while he was supposed to be on watch. It was no difficulty to capture him, secure him in a small closet, and make off with his uniform and weapons. Now garbed as a guard of the castle, Markor had no trouble finding the Princess' chambers and relieving the guard on duty for it was late and he would much rather be sleeping. The man disappeared and Markor gave him half an hour before opening the door he guarded. He glanced in and found the Princess sitting upon the bed, pale in the moonlight that streamed through the window. Her eyes were red with weeping and she would have screamed at the sudden intrusion but Markor removed his helmet and held a finger to his lips. She nodded grimly and flung her arms about him in relief; they were still very much in the heart of danger but the presence of a friendly face brought joy into the midst of her despair. A serving girl crept out of the shadows and made quickly for the door but Markor held her at sword point only to watch her fall to the floor weeping disconsolately.

Katia and Markor exchanged a confused look then the Princess knelt beside the weeping girl, "what is the matter Malia? You must not be afraid for my rescuer has come."

Malia dried her eyes and said, "that is just it my lady! If you are not here on the morrow, I will be the next one fed to the bear! I must warn the King if only to save my own life."

Markor sheathed his blade and said, "I will not leave either of you to such a fate. Can you disguise yourself and your lady as common laborers and sneak from the castle?"

Grim determination replaced the despair on the girl's face as she said, "we can sneak out using the refuse cart but I doubt the pony will outrun the guards' horses when they realize we are gone."

"Do it," said Markor grimly, "forget the pony and take the black horse in the last stall. Once you are free of the city, abandon the cart and let him have his head."

Katia's eyes widened as she realized what it was the man was doing. "You cannot!" she gasped, "you cannot be found here when we are gone!"

Markor smiled grimly, "neither can you escape if they suspect you are not still in this room. I will ward the door as long as I can and buy you some time, but you must go now. Ride home and warn your father that Saracen is even now preparing for war. May the Master ride with you."

She sighed and quickly the girls made their preparations and vanished from the castle as planned. The unicorn was not pleased to abandon his master, but knew his duty and bore the girls to safety and raised the alarm in Itria. Markor stayed by the door until his replacement came and asked, "any trouble?"

Markor smiled and said, "no, things went perfectly. When is the wedding?"

The guard shrugged, "this morning some time. The servant had best be preparing the bride even as we speak. The King will not be happy if today is not perfect, especially after the dismal disappointment of the executions yesterday."

Markor said, "shall I look in to see what is passing in the room? It has been rather quiet."

The guard nodded, "that might not be a bad idea but it is your head if the lady takes it amiss and complains to the King."

Markor grinned, "it is a risk I am willing to take."

He dashed into the room leaving the surprised guard without. The guard expected him to come out quickly but Markor did not emerge. He scratched his head, but figured the man was smart enough to not do anything suicidal. At least there was now the noise of movement and dressing going on in the room. It would not go well if the bride were not ready at the appointed time. A servant came with a breakfast tray and the captain came to see that all was in readiness, the soldier told both that the lady ought not be disturbed for she was in the midst of her preparations and all would certainly be ready at the right time.

Markor spent most of the morning opening drawers, pacing the room, flinging bits and pieces of jewelry and shoes about. He was not surprised that he was not interrupted with all the commotion he was causing it must be obvious to the none-too-bright guard that the Princess was too busy to be disturbed. When it seemed the appointed time was nigh, Markor finished his preparations and wondered what the King would think. There was a brief knock upon the door and then it was suddenly flung open by the captain of the guard. He saw the woman sitting forlornly on the bed, covered head to foot in the finest material. His heart was moved for pity for a moment knowing her grim fate, but his loyalty was to his lord and that was the end of the matter. He said, "come my dear, it is time at last."

She stood then, awkwardly it seemed, as if she were unaccustomed to so much fabric. The veil covered her face in Saracenian tradition and would only be removed by her beloved after the ceremony. They made their way to the great hall where all the court was gathered. The King was resplendent in his ceremonial best and already stood at the front of the hall where an aged General stood to officiate the ceremony. The captain escorted the bride to her beloved who then took her hand and the ceremony began. The King kept eyeing the bride as if he smelled something slightly out of place, as if she smelled ever so slightly of death or decay.

Finally the General asked if the bride was willing for the union, to which the reply was, "certainly not," in a masculine voice as Markor pulled off the veil and revealed himself to the astounded King and the entire court. The King turned white with terror thinking that a ghost stood before him, to which the smell of the grave certainly added its own romance.

"Where is the girl?" stammered the King, "how is this possible?"

Markor grinned, "nothing is impossible for the Master."

The man's insolent grin was too much; terror was replaced by rage as the King drew his sword and struck off the man's head. Markor collapsed and the King drew a sigh of relief to see that the fiend was truly made of flesh and blood, however he had managed to survive his ordeal with the bear. The King stared at his blood-spattered clothes in dismay, angry that the wretched man had ruined his best garments not to mention his wedding. He bellowed, "go find the girl and someone clean up this mess!"

Katia reached Itria quickly and warned her father of Saracen's impending invasion. He quickly mustered his army and met the invaders at the border in an ambush. The Saracen King had struck out in anger before he was ready and had not expected such an assault so soon. The Itrians were fighting for their lives, homes, families, and beloved King; the Saracens did not hold their tyrannical King in high regard nor did they relish the endless battles he seemed to enjoy. The Saracens quickly broke under the unflagging courage of their foes. The King lost control of himself and started lashing out at his retreating soldiers with his sword; one man so injured turned back and struck with his own blade. The King fell mortally wounded and none of his soldiers or lords turned back to lift him from the bloody mire in which he lay. The Itrians withdrew to their own country leaving the miserable King to die alone. The Saracens were long in recovering from the loss and were far more diplomatic in the future under the rule of a more reasonable King. Katia was finally able to ride to Astoria.

A Wish Fulfilled

"Pipsqueak!" laughed the older boy as the little girl burst into tears.

Iyan, her brother, let go of her hand and ran to face the bully and defend her honor saying, "leave her alone! Go bother someone else. What makes you think you can tease my sister and get away with it?"

The mean boy laughed, "I can do as I please but she ain't worth the effort." He laughed all the more as he turned and vanished into the market day crowds.

Sara's tear had abated and she could not decide whether she was more insulted by the bully or embarrassed that her big brother had to step in to protect her. Her brother sighed and again took her hand as they continued on their way home after finishing the errand upon which their mother had sent them. Sara was sulky when she got home and was eager to tell her mother the story and enjoy the coming solace, but her mother had no patience for sulkiness and soon told the girl that she had chores to finish. Sara complained bitterly, "why must I always sweep the floor and wash dishes? Iyan never has to do that sort of thing!"

Her mother smiled grimly, "Iyan has his own chores, as do you."

Sara whined, "but he gets to do stuff like milk cows and chop wood. He never has to do any girly stuff!" This debate was still going on as her father came inside the house. He could see that his two favorite ladies were in the midst of a disagreement and was wise enough not to get involved but Sara did not allow him that chance.

She said, "I want to chop wood and feed pigs father. Why must I always have the inside chores?"

Her father shook his head, "maybe when you are a bit older, but for now you must obey your mother. I must be off dear heart, those pigs are ready to go to town so you had best say your goodbyes to me and Iyan."

The girl broke into sobs, "why must I ever stay home when Iyan gets to go EVERYWHERE!"

Her father shook his head and said, "I would not say driving pigs to market was that much fun darling. You are needed at home to help your mother."

Sara began to screech and wail and her father was forced to leave without so much as a goodbye kiss and her mother was quick in ordering the girl to bed without supper. She ran to her room and sobbed inconsolably until bedtime and then her mother came to tuck her in. "Have you said your prayers?" asked her mother gently.

The girl sulked on the bed, "I have not and I never will again! I hate being a little girl! I never get to do anything or have any fun. I will never forgive the Master for making me a little girl!"

Her mother sat beside her on the bed and tried to brush the disarrayed hair from her face but the child turned away in anger and would not endure her mother's gentle touch. Her mother sighed and stood saying, "the Master made you exactly as you are and he loves you very much and has a very special purpose for your life, but I suppose in the heat of the moment you cannot believe such a thing but it is true nonetheless." The girl glared insolently at her mother who could only blow out the candle and leave the child to sulk herself to sleep.

The quiet little room suddenly seemed filled with moonlight but the girl could see no full moon streaming in the window. Then a quiet voice asked, "do you really hate being who and what you are?"

She stared in astonishment at the great unicorn that stood in her tiny sleeping chamber as he continued, "do you not know that I made you to be yourself and that that self is infinitely precious to me?"

A tear came unbidden to her eyes and she sobbed, "but it is so hard being a little girl! It must be much easier to be a boy or a princess! Not to mention more fun! Why did you make me such a miserable little thing? Can you not let me be something else?"

The Unicorn shook his head in amusement, "child, you can only be as I have made you, but I can show you why you will never be content until you are content as who and what you are. Perhaps you will realize your seeming plight is not so terrible after all. If you tire of your new life, simply call out to me and then we shall discuss this further." Suddenly he was gone and the whole world shifted into darkness. For a moment Sara was dizzy and wondering what had happened and if this were perhaps a dream but she felt quite awake though not quite herself.

It was no longer evening for the noon sun was high overhead; she was also certainly not herself. She was taller and stronger and older than she had ever been in her life. She caught her reflection in a water barrel and gasped, she was also a boy! She or rather he smiled in anticipation, this was going to be fun! No more housework or bullies. Now she could be the bully and she could run around and get into scrapes and have adventures and play with bows and swords and horses. Sara wandered out into the market square and gaped, there was Iyan as she had seen him that morning but he was not escorting her, but some other little girl that must be his sister in this weird reality. Sara smiled in malicious glee and ran up to the pair and scoffed, "Iyan, why don't you throw that little mouse to the cat? That's about all she's worth."

The girl started to cry and Iyan ran to her defense but Sara did not hear him for she felt very sad for the little girl and worse that her own brother was defending some other child than herself! Iyan gaped in astonishment as the big, mean boy ran off with tears in his eyes and a confused look on is face. Sara hid in an alley and could not imagine what had come over her. She had thought it would be fun to pick on a little kid but she felt so horrible and wretched inside that she wished with all her heart to have that moment back but it was too late. Maybe being a boy was not so easy and fun after all.

"Hey Stan!" came the voice of a boy her own age, "let's go raid Farmer Bout's orchard." She nodded and ran off with the other boy thinking that at least here would be an adventure that would not make a little girl cry. They climbed over the fence, but Sara's pants caught on a nail and tore slightly. She laughed and joined the other boy on the far side but her amusement was short lived as the farmer had seen their intent and came after them with a stick and set loose his two great dogs. The boys howled in fear and dashed for the fence but not before feeling the sting of the farmer's stick upon their backsides and suffering a great fright from the dogs.

Sara ran all the way home, not quite knowing where she was but certain that in this reality, this was the way home. She came into the yard panting and a sloppily dressed woman of amazing girth stepped out of the house, "where have you been you worthless wretch? Thankfully yer father's at the tavern else he'd have your hide. You'd better go cut some wood or he'll be in no good mood when he gets home. What? Tore yer pants? Yer only pants!" She disappeared inside and reappeared with a willow switch and applied it liberally to her son's exterior. She hissed, "now quit that caterwauling and get busy!" Sara apparently knew how to cut wood in this bizarre alternate reality and spent the rest of the sweltering day doing so and was quite miserable in the process for her stripes ached, especially when the sweat ran into them. She decided being a boy was not as much fun as she had hoped. Finally the man of the house came home quite drunk and beat his wife and son just for good measure and then fell into bed and was sound asleep before he hit the pillow. Sara sat down behind the wretched little house and wept. She was well and truly tired of being a boy. The world shifted around her and she found herself in a brand new reality.

The morning sun slanting through the windows of the grandiose chamber filled her with joy and trepidation for she must certainly be a princess to have a room such as this! And oh the clothes! A servant girl came into the room, bowed deeply, and helped her majesty rise from her bed and begin her morning dressing ritual. Sara was so happy she wanted to share it with the world and the servant girl seemed a chipper little thing and perhaps they could be friends. The girl was mystified when the princess began talking to her as if they were equals and said quite respectfully but her astonishment and mortification came through in her voice, "majesty, perhaps you may go riding with some of the young ladies that will come this afternoon but I would never dare to aspire to chat as an old friend with such as yourself! Your father would have me switched and sent from the castle!"

Sara wanted to cry for all her joy yet she had no one to share it with. Her loneliness only became more acute as the day wore on for after her solitary breakfast, her tutor was brought in for her morning lessons. The ancient man was as dry as winter leaves and his voice sounded like the wind rattling through said faded leaves. He asked questions and lectured on in his boring manner but he was no fit companion for such a creature as the princess; it seemed as if the morning lasted a century but finally lunch came and joy with it.

Finally Sara had company of her own sort, or so she thought for she was to lunch with two noble daughters of her acquaintance. But they talked of nothing substantive for all they could manage was to giggle vapidly at some lord's nose or some lady's ill-fitting gown or swoon about a young lord or gossip about some intrigue or other that had happened to one of their coterie. The talk was shallow and mean spirited and Sara's heart sank to be engulfed in such a mire. After lunch, she rejoiced to know that she would be allowed to go riding! She loved riding very much but only ever got to sit on the plow horse while her father led the beast about; this would be a real horse and she was big enough to stay aback it on her own. But she was sorely disappointed for she was not to gallop free upon the hills but was required to ride slowly and in the insipid company of her two lunch mates who chatted on as ever while a half dozen soldiers came with them.

Sara made one last dash for freedom but the stern eyed captain cut her off and said harshly, "majesty, if you desire to ride so recklessly I must certainly accompany you back to the castle." She sighed and returned to her silent place in the retinue.

Finally they returned to the palace and prepared for supper, which was to be a grand affair for it was said a visiting prince from a neighboring Kingdom had arrived that afternoon on an important errand for his father. Supper was an experience but Sara's heart ached for some real companionship, even if it meant a plain meal of meat and bread and cheese at her father's table. Her parents were quite regal but neither paid her any heed and her younger sisters prattled on eagerly with one another in the same fashion as her shallow friends from lunch. She was seated next to the Prince who was above forty years of age and was far from handsome and even farther from intelligent. After the meal, the King and his family attended the man privately until bedtime and Sara was forced once again to sit beside him while he bragged about his riches and power and of his father's Kingdom. No one else said much of anything.

Mercifully bedtime came and after the Prince had left Sara asked her mother, "would you come and tuck me in?"

She gaped at the child and said, "you old enough to go to sleep without such a nicety, besides the servants can certainly manage such a task. Why would you want the tedium of my company? Have you not enough entertainments and amusements that you are in need of my attention?" She laughed and walked away wondering at the fit that seemed to have taken her daughter.

The King said quietly, "I hope you like the Prince for you shall be married in a fortnight."

"Married!" gasped Sara, "but he is three times my age! I do not like him in the least!"

Her father shook his head sadly and said, "well you shall do your duty nonetheless I think, for this is the first chance at peace we have had with Ambroth since my father's time!" He patted her on the back and walked away. Sara ran to her room and wept, wishing she were not a princess.

The world lurched again and with both hope and fear she opened her eyes to find herself in a great house and garbed as a great lady. She smiled, perhaps a princess was bound to duty and all that but perhaps a Lady had more control over her own destiny. She sat down at the table and the servants brought forth what should have been sumptuous fare but what turned out to be nothing but turnips and dried pork. "What is this?" she demanded of the servant.

He stuttered, "is it not as you have ordered Lady? During this terrible drought the peasants suffer greatly and you have declared that you shall suffer with them. You eat as they eat, if they eat at all." She sighed and apologized for her outburst and set to work on the pitiful plate, which seemed far more pathetic after her recent feast. After the dismal meal, a great lord was led into her audience chamber and made his bows, far too obsequious for her taste.

He began, "your ladyship I have come to offer you peace."

She smiled slightly, "and what shall be the cost of this peace? Have you finally realized that raiding my border farms is unethical?"

He laughed harshly, "certainly not! If you will marry me, we shall unite our lands and you shall have peace on all your borders."

She sighed, "be gone from my presence until you can speak sense. If your men will not quit harassing my folk I fear violence may result."

He laughed darkly as he left, "that would be unfortunate for you I think."

And she knew with dread that he was right, for he had twice the men at arms that she had. Suddenly a servant appeared bearing a letter from the King asking for her presence at a grand ball this very evening. A ball? In the midst of a drought that had lasted two years? She sighed and knew she must attend or suffer the consequences for such a slight to the King, which meant arraying herself and her retinue in their best finery and taking the carriage and the best team of horses. Such would not look good to her starving peasants but she could not insult the King. As they rode out, the stony faced peasants they passed smote her heart but she knew she could do naught else. She started to cry and wished she were not a lady any more.

This time she found herself a wandering minstrel. She laughed for joy, now here was true freedom! She wandered into the local inn and played and sang all the night but met with only indifferent appreciation for her talents. The innkeeper and his patrons gave her a scant donation and then it was all to bed. She was given a crust of bread for supper and allowed to stay in the leaky stable loft though it poured all night so she slept very little. Stiff and cold, she set out once more and hoped to reach the estates of a very rich lord ere dark. Footsore, weary, and ravenous, she came into the lord's house. He was already drunk and only had a taste for a certain whining ballad that Sara personally hated and he had her play through the entire, lengthy piece eight times. Finally he was dozing in a chair and the housekeeper beckoned her to follow. She showed her out the kitchen door, handed her a pittance, and told her to have a nice evening. It was well past midnight and it was raining again. Sara wandered out into the dark and decided this was no ideal life either.

She found herself a soldier which she thought might be quite exciting for she had always wanted to use a sword and ride about in armor, but she found herself standing watch on a great wall in the middle of the night with a cold wind howling out of the west. Trying very hard not to fall asleep and tumble from her post, she spent a miserable four hours before she was relieved. She found the barracks but could not sleep on the bed which was little more than a board. Word came early the next morning that they must ride to war and her heart leapt for joy, at last an end to the tedium! They spent weeks riding, sleeping on the ground, eating stale rations, and by the end of it Sara was desperate for a battle. But the terror and the confusion and the danger of a battle were no place for her she quickly decided. She gasped in horror as she killed a man and then screamed in agony as another soldier ran her through with his own blade. She lay dying in a muddy pool of her own blood and decided she did not like being a soldier any more than she liked being a princess.

She awoke to find herself a wealthy merchant riding with her wares from village to village. This she thought, would truly be an adventure! She could meet new people and see new places and be her own mistress yet would not have to sleep outside or starve! She wandered from place to place, sleeping in inns when she could and spending her days haggling with housewives over the prices of her various wares. She grew very lonely and the excitement of travel and sleeping at an inn was soon lost. Every person she talked to seemed interested only in what kind of a deal or profit they could make by her acquaintance. Then she met a horde of bandits one day as she was nearing an inn and they managed to steal everything she possessed and would have stolen even more had she not screamed and brought help from the village. She wept for her lost livelihood and knew herself to have become suddenly poor and oh so alone. The innkeeper said not ungently, "at least you still have your life." She wept all the more for what kind of a life was this?

The world lurched and she found herself aback a galloping unicorn, wearing a sword, and off on another adventure for she was one of those mythic warriors known as the Brethren. At last, here was a wonderful and happy life. She drew rein in front of an inn and spent the night speaking to those within but most ignored her and some mocked. She retired for the night and spent the next several weeks in similar pursuit which very much reminded her of her time as a minstrel though the unicorn was a dear companion and certainly was better than walking. She still felt an aching loneliness and wished that someone might appreciate her efforts. Finally someone did take notice but not as she would have hoped. She found herself crossing swords with a dark man who seemed intent on silencing her permanently and he very nearly succeeded but before the darkness consumed her utterly she cried wretchedly, "oh to be a little girl again!" And then all was darkness.

She sat in the dark, alone and weeping until she saw moonlight and felt a gentle touch upon her cheek. She looked up into the fathomless eyes of the Master and laughed, for here was true joy! She did not care who or what she was if only she could spend forever looking deep into those eyes. He shook his head in amusement and said, "someday child, but now is not that time. So you do not wish to be a princess or a boy or a lady or soldier or anything else but what you are?"

Tears came to her eyes and she wept, "oh what a fool I am! For mine is the happiest life of all and my miniscule trials are nothing compared to what others must suffer."

The Master said, "all lives are filled with sorrow and fleeting joy child, but you have learned well that just because you have money or power or have traveled much or have attained some lofty goal that that does not mean you shall ever find joy, purpose, or meaning. To find such you must be who and what I have created you to be."

She threw her arms around his neck and said, "can I go back to be plain, old, simple Sara? I shall never sass my mother again or refuse to say my prayers."

He laughed, "child you shall certainly sass your mother again but I would hope that it becomes an infrequent occurrence as you grow in virtue and grace and learn to live as I would have you. I shall never be far off if you truly seek me!" He was gone and her lovely, familiar room was again before her.

She leapt from her bed and ran to her mother's room and threw herself into that dear lady's arms weeping, "oh mother! How I have missed you. I shall be such a good girl from now on. I am so happy to be your little girl!" Her mother stared down in amazement at the change that had come over the child for only a moment ago she had put the furious child to bed.

She told her tale with such vivid detail that her parents could not help but believe her and the lesson remained long in her young heart. She did, as the Master had said, sass her mother and misbehave but she was never again unthankful that she was who and what she was.

An Eye For an Eye

War had raged between Yar and Nara for over a century. Once they had been one united country, prosperous under the rule of a wise and just King, but he died suddenly not having appointed an heir, leaving his twin sons to fight for the throne. A civil war that nearly destroyed everything their father held dear raged for almost twenty years before the boys came to a tentative peace by dividing the country in two. Still the borders were disputed and raids into enemy territory were an everyday occurrence. Clashes between enemy soldiers on both sides of the border were no cause for alarm or even concern as it was just another day in the divided Kingdom. Increasing the tension was the law on both sides of the border that no wounded or captured enemy combatant would be allowed to live and return to their homeland, thus even those that survived the battle but were unable to limp home before being overtaken by the enemy died.

The death toll was catastrophic on both sides of the border but neither would relent in their unending war, claiming the other held full responsibility for the incessant conflict and content with nothing but total surrender. So it was that each generation of young men went off to join the army and if they came home at all, they were injured to point that they were no longer useful as soldiers and left to scrape a living as best they could. The women married young men and after fathering a son or two, he was required to enlist leaving many a widow and orphan to survive as they might or returning years later a cripple to beg their support. They were very proud of their soldiers and their courage in the midst of such unremitting heartache, so much so that few could imagine a country without a perennial war.

So it was that Mrik, the youngest son of the King of Nara found himself leading a raiding party into Yar. He was not eager for this excursion but his father insisted it would be good for him and was absolutely necessary if he wished to avoid exile. Reluctantly he agreed while his father muttered under his breath about boys who spent too much time listening to the idle words of peace mongers and not enough time advancing the cause of their homeland. Whereas Mrik's elder brothers loved nothing more than to play at war and fighting during their childhood years, Mrik had found no greater love than to listen to the countless stories told by one of the Brethren stationed in Nara as their advisor to the King (who most certainly avoided taking the advice of said peace monger). In his formative years, such a vice was overlooked, but now that he was of age, Mrik could no longer hide behind the naiveté of youth and must take his place amongst the renowned warriors of Nara. So he rode off to war to appease his father though his own heart yearned to be doing anything but. They had not long crossed the border when they came upon a raiding party of Yarans bent on similar pursuit. Battle was met, men and horses screamed in rage and pain, swords clashed, the survivors limped off to relative safety or to seek aid, and the dead, dying, and injured were left for a time to themselves. Mrik's knee was badly injured and he had taken a hard knock to the head when his horse fell. He woke to find himself lying amongst the carnage of battle. He grimaced in pain as he drew himself up to survey the wreckage. Half of his men lay unmoving as did an equal number of Yarans.

So much for his place among the renowned warriors of Nara. He knew he would not live long if so much as a peasant came upon him, even they would strike down an injured man wearing the wrong colors. Suddenly a thought came to him, perhaps if he were clad in the colors of Yar he might be able to crawl to the borders before anyone realized from whence he had come. He crawled to the nearest body sporting Yaran blue and exchanged his own red tunic for the dead man's garment. Overwhelmed with the brief exertion, Mrik lapsed again into darkness. He awoke to find a rather attractive young woman with large, sad eyes holding a cloth to his forehead. She smiled gently when she saw her patient coming awake and firmly held him down when he weakly tried to sit up.

She said quietly, "your leg is badly wounded and you have taken a fair hit to the head but I think you will recover well save the knee of course. You are quite safe from the grief and trials of war within these walls. Once you are recovered enough to travel, you may go where you will."

Mrik relaxed a bit when he realized that no one was waiting with a sword to ambush him and said, "I thank you for your kindness lady, why waste it upon such as me?"

She said sadly, "no human life is worthless my poor man. We have taken in many wounded men over the years and none of our effort has been vain. Only such a war as this is vain."

She glanced around anxiously and her large, frightened eyes drew pity from her patient as he said, "fear not, I love war as little as you. Your secret shall be safe in my keeping."

She smiled then and cocked her head curiously, "how is it then that you come to be a soldier if you hate war so much?"

He said ruefully, "you know as well as I the penalty for all that refuse to enlist. But you are right, if it were such a dear belief, exile or death would be no small price to pay in the defense of it. Perhaps I am not as strong morally as I ought to be."

She laughed then and said, "yes but now you have an excuse to escape legally. You will never walk firmly upon that leg again which will render you useless as a soldier."

He smiled at her gratefully and then lapsed again into sleep. She withdrew from his side and spoke quietly to her aged father who sat nearby, "I have bound his leg and tended his head, there is little now that I can do. But I think time will heal much. What do you think of him father?"

The old man shook his head gravely at his daughter's eager tone and said, "time will reveal what it will. You have chores to be about do you not?" The girl blushed terribly and ran from the room to attend to her waiting chores while the man laughed warmly at his daughter's swift resumption of her interrupted duties.

Mrik was in and out of consciousness for three days until finally he felt rested enough to try to reenter the land of the living. His leg was bound up and with the help of a cane, he was able to hobble about fairly well. He felt awkward around his hosts because he owed them his life yet endangered theirs by remaining with them; neither did he know how to repay their kindness to him. At first they were aghast that he wished to help out around the farm, but he was persistent and they desperately needed the help as the man was feeble with age and the girl could only do so much. Finally they allowed him to do simple things and they found themselves quite amused at his complete lack of knowledge about the very simplest of tasks.

He laughed at their astonishment and said, "I was once an aristocrat and never had need to lift a finger for I had servants beyond number to do even the simplest task in my stead. However, I am more than willing to aid you as I might around here if only to repay your kindness though you will certainly have to teach me what I must do."

The old man laughed, "kindness is no kindness if one bestows it with the wish of repayment. You owe us nothing but if it will make you rest easier, then certainly you may take part in those tasks my daughter sees fit to set you. I am surprised at such a work ethic in a Lord's son, but I will not laugh at it."

Mrik smiled, "I fear I was born to the wrong father for I am a lover of neither idleness nor war, but the aristocracy favors both! Lead on lady and show me what you would have me do." She took his hand and laughing, gently led him out of the house and off to the barn to indoctrinate him in the fine art of stock keeping. Though lame, it was not long before he became an indispensable member of the household and greatly eased the strain upon his grateful hosts. They had never had a convalescent display quite this fervor and gratitude and it intrigued them both. Finally the day came when the King's official came to inspect the wounded man and either declare him fit for duty or excuse him from service.

The official looked over the now healed but quite stiff joint and declared, "I cannot allow such a cripple as you to reenter his Majesty's service. I am sorry, but I must discharge you. Where are your papers?" Mrik tried to hide his anxiety at being discovered and his joy at discharge by saying, "I have no papers, they must have been lost in the battle."

"No papers!" gasped the astonished official, "such is not done in a proper bureaucracy but I suppose in extenuating circumstances these things might perhaps be overlooked. In future I caution you to be far more careful for most of the King's officials are not as lenient as I. You could very well start a trend that will undermine the very building blocks of society!"

The rumpled official quickly drew up an official document of discharge, which would excuse him from further military service and also give him an official standing in the Kingdom. Mrik and his hosts bowed politely as the man left and then shared joyous and amused smiles. "Now what?" asked the old man, "I suppose you will be going home?"

The boy shook his head, "I would rather stay here but I know I try your patience and have long overstayed my welcome."

The girl gave her father a horrified glance and beamed when the old man nodded knowingly. He said, "I would not mind you staying on I suppose. You have been some help to me around the farm but you would have to promise to marry my daughter and become my son."

Mrik gave the old man a shocked look, in his heart of hearts he had hoped for such a thing but had never dared to once think it might become reality. He gasped, "I would like nothing better sir."

"Very well," said the old man gruffly, "but see that you do not call me sir too often for it makes me feel old."

Mrik hugged the old man and said, "very well, father."

The old man laughed, "that is much better. Welcome home lad."

So it was that Clarissa and Mrik were soon married (now that Mrik was in possession of some official Yaran paperwork it was quite an easy matter). Within a year, the old man welcomed a granddaughter into the family and was more than content with his son-in-law. He did not live long after but died a happy old man.

The years passed quite blissfully and Clarissa had not long ago borne another daughter when her husband saw her sneaking into the abandoned shed he had thought was long since boarded up and unused. He followed after, thinking their eldest child might perhaps be up to some mischief. He opened the door not long after she had closed it and gasped to see his wife not alone in the musty room. A man lay upon a rough cot obviously sick or injured gravely. She turned around in horror at his discovery and tears welled in her eyes but determination was strong on her face. Mrik glanced again at the stricken man and this time the significance of the matter and the reason for his wife's secrecy were quite clear: the man was a soldier of Nara. They had nursed half a dozen injured men since Mrik's arrival in similar fashion and they lodged quite comfortably in the house, but she feared he would think ill of her or even kill her patients if he knew she were nursing wounded enemies.

She bowed her head and said, "I wanted to tell you but I was never quite sure what your reaction would be."

Mrik said quietly, "this is not the first?"

She shook her head, "I have helped several others of his allegiance without your knowing. Forgive the subterfuge but I thought it necessary."

He drew her close and said, "I understand but it still hurts to know you do not trust me wholly as I hoped you would. Why do you do it and put your own life in danger?"

She sobbed, "I care not what color coat they wear! They are men, living, breathing human beings who are suffering and would die else. Do they not deserve the same love and compassion that our own sons receive? I will not stop until forced, for I think my cause more worthy than even life itself!"

Mrik laughed ruefully, "then you are certainly braver and stronger than I was the day I rode to war for my father. I will never ask you to stop love, nor will I betray your secret. You are right in saying that all men deserve such love, not just our own countrymen. We will fix this place up a bit that your guests may recover in more comfort than the current situation affords, but I must also tell you a secret that I have long kept, both for fear at your reaction and also for fear that if you knew and evil befell me, you would be drug down with me into ruin. I was born and raised in Nara; I am the King's youngest son. I fell injured in battle and swapped coats with a fallen Yaran fearing for my own life at the hands of those who found me."

Her eyes were wide with astonishment and hurt but she said, "it seems we both have kept things back that would have been better shared with one another. Let us agree to no more secrets betwixt us!" He laughed then and held her close and she cried in relief and joy. Her patient slept on. So it was that the years passed and they and several likeminded neighbors took part in the plot. One of their invalids recognized the late prince for who he truly was though kept this secret to himself until he was healthy enough to cross the border and tell the King that his lost son was yet alive.

Rumor had already reached the King that some of his injured soldiers were being nursed back to health by the Yarans and allowed to return home. The return of the man who had identified his lost son started hopeful thoughts running through the King's head and he soon dispatched messengers to seek out Mrik and inform him of his father's plans. The spies were not long in discovering his hiding place and waited until after dark to knock upon the door. Mrik opened it slightly and held his sword in his free hand fearing some trick at this time of night.

"My Lord Mrik," said the one, "we mean you no harm, your father the King sends his greetings." Mrik exchanged a horrified look with his wife who was sitting nearby, heavy with their third child. He sighed, knowing he could not leave the men loose alone in the night. Reluctantly he opened the door and the men made their bows and entered. "Your Highness," began the one.

Mrik said, "I no longer claim any rank nor title. I am naught but a crippled peasant farmer and wish to be nothing more. What is it you want?"

The man said, "your father has become aware of your exile and also of the compassionate treatment of some of his injured soldiers by folk in these parts. He is hopeful that such compassion can be used to turn their hearts towards Nara and that this whole border country might perhaps cede itself willingly to your father's Kingdom."

Mrik stared in astonishment and disgust, "my father thinks that the only reason these folk occasionally take pity upon an injured Naran is to gain his favor because they wish to become Narans themselves?"

The man nodded smugly, "precisely."

Mrik shook his head in absolute amazement, "we have no wish to subvert the laws of Yar but by abiding by that wretched dictum we violate the laws of conscience and the Master himself, which we will not willingly do. We show compassion upon these men for they are simply men and worthy of such regard. We care not whose colors they wear but simply that they are thinking creatures and beloved of their Maker."

"I do not understand," said the spy.

Mrik sighed, "and neither will the King of Nara. Go back and tell him that his plans are folly and will not avail him. I will not aid him in his scheme neither will the Yarans. Tell him I am quite content and wish to be left in peace."

He shoved the protesting men out into the darkness and they had no choice but to ride back to their thoroughly displeased master. A neighbor passing upon some late errand saw the strangers ride away and quickly went to speak to someone in authority about the strange midnight visitors. Over the next week, the farm was closely watched and it was soon discovered that treachery was rampant about the place. It was not long before a half dozen of the King's soldiers stood outside the house and made their presence known with much banging and shouting. There was no answer from within but the wail of a newborn child. The midwife had just placed Mrik's son in his arms when the soldiers came into the house and drug him away on charges of treason. The startled midwife snatched back the infant and did her best to calm the very agitated mother. They took the man by the shoulders and forced him to march towards the derelict shed and infirmary. They forced open the door and killed the two invalids in Naran blue within, taking the bloodied tunics as proof against their prisoner.

They would not speak to the prisoner for the entire journey to the capital where he would stand trial before all of Nara that could be gathered to watch. He did not know if they knew his true identity, if they only knew of his aiding enemy soldiers, or if there were other charges real or contrived against him. They reached the castle and took him to the dungeons where the King himself waited to interview the prisoner. "Why boy?" demanded the King, "why defy my laws and aid our bitter enemies? But worse, why consort with known spies of Nara?"

Mrik looked up in surprise, "I have done nothing wrong in giving aid to wounded men; it would have been far more grievous to leave them without aid or worse kill them. As to consorting with spies, I was accosted quite unexpectedly by two men of Nara and quickly sent them packing once they had made their allegiance and plans known to me. I have done nothing to undermine the authority or safety of Yar and if I have violated the law for tending the wounded, then it is the law that is unjust and not my actions."

The King scoffed, "we shall certainly have an interesting trial tomorrow and if you are found guilty I fear your entire family shall share your fate."

Mrik's heart dropped at the thought of his wife and children suffering such an end but that was yet to be seen. He nodded grimly and steeled his heart for the morrow's trial. He spent a sleepless night in the grim, rat-infested cells and was taken to the city square quite early, unwashed and unfed. A large and hostile crowd had gathered for the day's spectacle. The only glimmer of hope was the presence of a man in the uniform of the Brethren amongst the officials who otherwise looked grim and almost eager for the day's event.

He was made to sit bound in a rickety chair facing the officials, behind which the ravenous crowd booed and shouted obscenities. The King himself presided over the affair and intoned, "my fellow Yarans, welcome to this grim proceeding which may well reveal a terrible traitor in our midst. This man stands accused of not only defying Yaran law in allowing enemy soldiers to live but also of harboring Naran spies in his own house." The King then called forth the soldiers who had captured Mrik and also his neighbor who had seen the men leave his house at such a dangerous hour. The crowd grew even more rabid as each witness gave his testimony. Finally the King called for silence and said to the condemned, "have you anything to say in your defense? Your guilt appears quite certain but you are allowed to speak, perhaps a confession will garner mercy for your poor children."

Mrik stood shakily and said to the gathered crowd, "I do not deny that I nursed several wounded men of Nara back to health, but what has also been overlooked is that my family has done the same for twice their number of Yaran soldiers. Why is it treason to render aid to one's fellow man, no matter what side of the border he was born upon? A hundred years ago we would have been countrymen! In the eyes of the Master we are all brothers and his dear children. What right have I to deny a man aid when I can give it? If I have defied the law it is because the law is unjust. The law itself violates the deepest laws of the human heart and the Master as well."

A grizzled general stood up and yelled at the prisoner, "that law has been in effect since those wretched Narans began the grim practice, we are simply repaying their own heartlessness!"

Mrik said, "the Narans say it was Yar that began the evil practice. Does it matter who began it if we all continue it? It was put in place by men no longer living yet the cost is borne by those who had no part in its making. We perhaps had no choice in making the law but we do have a choice in its continuance. Evil begets evil until it is ended with love. The Narans must do as they see fit, but must Yar continue to have innocent blood on its hands because of a tradition begun long ago? How many young men have died in the last century because no one was strong enough to stand up and say that enough is enough? Perhaps if we end the vile practice, Nara will soon do likewise?"

There was much booing and upset from the crowd and the King scoffed, "fine words for a Naran loyalist. It will certainly be to your benefit to spare the lives of so many of your soldiers while ours continue to die by Naran hands. What of the accusation that you play host to enemy spies? Can you prove yourself a loyal Yaran? You have no proper papers, only a discharge order from one of my officials but nothing before. Are you not a spy yourself?"

Mrik said, "I am a loyal Yaran, my wife and three children are Yarans. I have spent the last seven years working the land, cripple though I am, to feed my family and pay my taxes. I have never raised a hand against anyone and have aided countless Yaran soldiers in distress. I however was not born in Yar though here my heart has ever been. The men who briefly paid me a visit were emissaries from the King of Nara who had heard rumors that some of his men had been treated with compassion by the Yarans ere they returned home. He hoped this meant the Yarans would be willing to cede the borderlands to Nara but I informed them otherwise. We were simply compassionate folk helping our fellow men, not caring upon which side of the border they were born."

The King laughed derisively, "and why did they come to you in particular?"

Mrik looked in anguish upon the crowd, hung his head, and said, "they had also heard rumors that their King's youngest son was still alive though long thought dead in a border raid."

There was much astonishment from the crowd and the officials and the King asked, "and is this true?"

Mrik looked deeply into his eyes and said, "my father is the King of Nara and seven years ago he sent me quite unwillingly upon a raid into Yar. I was injured and stole the colors of a dead Yaran that I might save my own life. Your loyal subjects nursed me back to health quite unknowing of my origins and I have lived among you ever since. I have been nothing but a loyal peasant of Yar since that day and had no intention of ever again returning home or having any contact with my homeland, but I fear one of the men I succored recognized me and informed my father."

The King was quite astonished and turned to the Brother beside him, "does he speak truly? Can such an enigma truly be? Tell me he lies and is simply a traitor."

The man in the uniform of the Brethren said, "he has spoken truly throughout Highness. The only crime he has committed is against your own vile law, which as I have told you countless times is quite unjust and a violation of human conscience."

The King said dryly, "I did not ask for your appraisal of our laws, however I must apparently drop the charge of collaborating with enemy spies but he still stands guilty of defying that particular law. He is too valuable a prisoner to kill outright as our laws demand. What do you suggest be done boy?"

Mrik said, "I perhaps stand guilty by your laws but I die with a clear conscience. I would have that awful law changed and perhaps begin to renew peace between the divided nation. Either you must change the law and release me, kill me for a traitor, or send to my father and ask him to come that you might negotiate peace or at least a decrease in hostility between you."

The King scowled, "I will not relent until your father does, and it is he that must apologize and surrender to me. I will keep you alive as a hostage and perhaps he will bend to my will."

Mrik laughed grimly, "with the message I sent him via the spies I am afraid he will certainly never do anything to save my life. I was never his favorite son even before my exile, but now I shall certainly be of little value to him. I have defied him and he shall certainly deny me."

The King said grimly, "then we shall have ourselves an execution."

Mrik went to his one good knee with tears in his eyes, "shed my blood if you must but spare my wife and children. This bestial law has resulted in enough blood shed on its behalf. Do not repay their good with evil. When will it end if you do not end it? How many young lives must be lost? How much of a nation's wealth must go to fight a useless war? What matters who started it when both are guilty beyond doubt of crimes beyond number? When will the slaughter end?"

The King growled, "you have willingly violated a law of Yar, not to mention are a soldier of Nara and thus a sworn enemy. There is no good reason why I should spare your life. Your wife shall be dealt with according to our laws, her future I think shall be no happier than your own."

"Happy?" Mrik said grimly, "as long as needless war rages between our nations I shall never be happy. Perhaps it is a small mercy that I not have to endure life much longer in such an unjust country!"

"Take him away," said the King, "we shall watch him die publicly tomorrow."

They led the prisoner away and the King closeted himself with his closest advisors and most powerful lords. He paced back and forth before them and said, "should we change that law? It has been in force for over half a century!"

An aged lord said, "we would be giving Nara a distinct advantage in number of casualties sustained. Who is to say if they shall reciprocate? Nay, I say it is a necessary evil."

The advisor from the Brethren said, "perhaps if you offer the first sign of peace, Nara will see it and begin to wonder if this is truly a just war. Why must so many die needlessly? Who cares who started it when each atrocious act causes more enmity and strife and soon all is awash in blood and anger and none can see anything but red."

The King snarled, "do you want to join the traitor in his fate? Long have you lectured me about that particular law and the war in general. My father had your predecessor executed for just such a statement. Now be quiet unless you can say something productive."

Another lord spoke up, "this war has cost us much in both resources and population. We should be the richest nation in the south but alas we are the most destitute and likely to decline even further. We shall destroy ourselves if we do not change our ways."

The King stared, "but is it not age old tradition and the source of all our pride and courage?"

The Brother spoke, "he speaks truly my Lord. Nara and Yar are both in decline and within a few generations will vanish as independent states unless something is done to rectify the situation."

"I will not repeal the law!" screamed the King, "now who is going to stand against me? Any who continue to defy me will find their neck on the block with that traitor on the morrow." He looked grimly at his advisors and all save the Brother and the rebellious lord bowed their heads in acquiescence. "Well?" demanded the King.

The lord said, "I will not repent Highness."

The Brother said, "I stand by what I have said."

The King said with a voice of dangerous quiet, "when did you grow a rebellious spine Lord Higgle? I expect such inanity from the Brethren but not from a loyal lord of Yar."

Lord Higgle said, "I am an old man and this war has consumed my six sons. My house shall perish as so many have before it and as will others after mine. It matters little if it falls tomorrow or in a decade, all is come to naught. If this boy is worthy of death, then I think we all must be."

The King sighed, "what if I relent and the Narans do not repay us kindness for kindness? I may have a civil war on my hands!"

The Brother said, "that is the risk you must take if this war is ever to end. Why not send an emissary to the King of Nara and ask his response?"

The King laughed bitterly, "he would send the messenger's head back in a box. You saw what the kindness of this rogue and others like him produced; the man thought they were becoming sympathetic with Nara and suggested a revolt! No, Narans are not to be trusted and therefore less than human so it is no crime to murder them. My edict stands. I shall certainly send an emissary. The boy's head shall be returned to his father. Let us see what he thinks of that."

The King sighed, "I do not like this rebellious talk of yours Lord Higgle. I think it best if you withdraw to your estates and refrain from ever showing your face in public again. And as for you Yoric, I tire of your ill advice and almost wish to send your head back to your precious Lady as a warning but I know it will do no good. If you cannot keep silent, I cannot promise that your life will be a long one."

Yoric smiled grimly, "I cannot but speak my mind Majesty so you must do as you must to me, but I ask that you spare the poor man's wife and children."

The King laughed dreadfully, "she knows the law as well as everyone else. She is as guilty as her husband and will no doubt share his fate. Mind your own business Yoric and you may live a little longer."

Yoric bowed and said, "things shall be as they must Highness."

They withdrew from the chamber and after all had left, the King drew one of the guards aside and said quietly, "I fear treachery this night, have Yoric watched and if he tries to leave the castle, arrest him." The guard saluted sharply and disappeared down the corridor to carry out his orders. Yoric knew he could do nothing for the captive but perhaps he could spare his wife and children. He knew the King suspected something and he had little time to act. He quickly wrote a letter and ran to the stables where his unicorn was stabled. He tacked up the creature, secured the letter to his harness, and let him out a side gate before the guards caught up with him.

"Going somewhere?" asked the suspicious soldier.

Yoric grinned, "not without the King's leave of course."

The guard smiled sardonically, "and that you certainly do not have. I would watch myself if I were you."

The unicorn ran with all the speed of his kind, reluctant to leave his master but certain that this task must be done. He came to the farmstead and found Clarissa grieved to her heart and nearly sick with worry. She nearly dropped her infant son when she saw a unicorn looking in her kitchen window. She gave the baby to his eldest sister and slowly approached the magnificent creature. He stared significantly at the message in his saddlebags and she eagerly obliged him. She gasped to learn of her husband's impending doom and that her own arrest was imminent. The letter also advised her to flee with her children aback the unicorn and seek refuge in Astoria. Yoric also asked that she warn any of her neighbors involved in similar pursuits that they should also consider flight ere the King's wrath came upon them.

She had already packed for a journey, not quite sure if she had the heart to make it but for her children's sake she had to go on. She felt she was abandoning Mrik, but the note also said that if the poor man somehow survived Yoric would direct him towards Astoria. She wrote a quick note to one of her neighbors who had also taken in injured Narans warning her of their plight and asking that she inform all of their accomplices. She then secured the infant to her chest and placed one child before her and one behind. There was not much room, but the patient creature somehow accommodated his awkward burden. They stopped just long enough to pass on the letter Clarissa had written and then vanished into the night not long before the soldiers came to arrest her. Heartbroken, hungry, tired, but determined to go on, the refugees arrived in Astoria still wondering what had become of Mrik but thankful they had arrived safely.

Very early in the morning, a soldier on an exhausted horse rode madly through the castle gates with urgent news for the King: the woman was fled. The King was horrified that such a traitor might escape justice. The soldier was given a fresh horse and he and his men were to ride in pursuit. Another group of soldiers was dispatched to comb the neighborhood and see if they could find anyone else involved in such activities. The King would see this problem rooted out and the perpetrators destroyed before it could grow into full scale rebellion. Clarissa's note arrived none too soon. Hasty preparations were made and all who had been involved in the plot quickly fled Yar, along with many who felt the King's justice quite unjust. By the time the soldiers arrived to root out evil, they found only the faithful remaining of which several were put to the sword just to show that something had been accomplished for the soldiers feared for their own lives should they come back empty handed. Those who failed to find Clarissa also refrained from returning home for the same reason.

Yoric was called to the King's chambers despite the late hour and it was not long before a full confession was had. The King sighed, "I warned you Yoric and now you will suffer for your temerity. You will die alongside the traitor."

Yoric said grimly as the soldiers came to take him away, "as long as life is so little valued in this Kingdom it will never prosper. We die innocent of all blood, but your reign and that of all your fathers is stained with the blood of countless men, ours is but the latest."

The King laughed, "we shall see who it is that prospers."

Dawn crept slowly over the rim of hills in the East but the sun failed to show her face and a steady drizzle accompanied the morning. Yoric and Mrik were roughly pushed up the uneven stairs of the quickly erected platform in the midst of the city. A grim crowd had gathered for the morning's amusement and many uncomplimentary things were yelled to the condemned. Mrik was quite surprised to find himself with such a companion but grateful that at least his family was far beyond the reach of the murderous King. It saddened him to know that his pleas had gone unheard and that the King was resolute in keeping that dreadful law in place.

"Are you afraid?" asked Yoric of the boy.

Mrik grinned like a child finding that he knew something his mother did not, "I am disappointed in the King and grieved that I shall not see my children grow up, but long have I trusted the Master and know that one day beyond all sorrow and tears, in the Master's bright country we shall meet again."

Yoric smiled deeply, "as long as we trust in the Master, we need worry about nor fear anything for all things shall be one day set right. We shall not be long parted my friend, for death is but the beginning of greater things for all who hope as we in the Master's great promises."

The charges were read, the prisoners were forced to their knees with their necks upon the block, and one after the other fell to the swift stroke of the axe. Yoric and most of Mrik were quietly buried but as promised, the King of Nara soon received a rather distressing package compliments of his mortal enemy in Yar. The King had little affection for his renegade son but this affront was beyond humiliating.

He increased his raids upon the border villages and ordered his men to not simply steal, but to also burn all in their path and kill every man, woman, and child they encountered. The King of Yar reciprocated and soon a full scale war was raging. Many fled the embattled nations as the war escalated and the brutality increased on both sides. Within a generation, the warnings of Yoric and Lord Higgle soon came to pass and both Yar and Nara collapsed, having consumed themselves in an endless cycle of violence and revenge.

### Art Critics

"Go fetch the healer boy," said the old woman as she came back into the main room of the little cottage, "your master will live but he still needs her attention."

The boy nodded dutifully and dashed from the house after receiving directions from the woman. He was soon in the saddle and galloping off to fetch the local herb dealer. Jorum was not long in reaching the house to which the old woman had directed him but there seemed to be no one about. Cautiously he approached the cottage whose door was slightly ajar and catching a glimpse of movement through a window.

"Hello?" called the boy. There was a sound of surprise and running feet, Jorum ran to the back of the house and caught the fugitive as it darted out the backdoor. "You are not the healer," said he with a grin.

His captive, a boy about his own age but much thinner and not quite so tall, struggled to free himself and growled, "no I ain't so you had best be letting me go about my own business."

Jorum asked, "then where is she if you are so familiar with this domicile?"

The boy sneered, "mind your own business. You have no right to detain me!"

Jorum laughed, "I have every right to detain you if you are in a place where you have no legal right to be. What exactly were you doing in there?"

"An excellent question," came an amused female voice, "and one whose answer I would dearly like to know."

Both boys started and looked suddenly upon the woman who Jorum had been seeking. The captive boy scowled, "I found the place abandoned and thought I might take a look around."

The woman said patiently, "and help yourself to anything of value or interest while you were about it?" The boy shrugged but wore a sheepish grin.

"This is all very well," came another voice, this one young, masculine, and annoyed, "but I have pressing business that must be attended to immediately."

The woman laughed, "your father's toe is acting up again is it? Well I shall attend to it as soon as may be but this other lad was here first."

"But!" said the newcomer in surprise.

His complaint was cut short as the woman said, "gout is not an emergency young man, and Lord though your father be, it is the seriousness of the condition that dictates who gets tended to first."

The young lord rolled his eyes and said, "that is a silly way to go about things. Rank should have predominance in all matters."

She shook her head in exasperation and looked to Jorum who still held the prisoner, who had ceased his struggling, and she asked, "and what is your errand here boy? Besides for catching petty thieves that is."

Jorum grinned, "I was sent by the old widow who lives upon the Slough Road. My companion has taken frightfully ill with something she calls the 'swamp ague' and asks for your help."

She nodded thoughtfully and said, "certainly a nasty disease, especially to those new to these parts. He should certainly be seen but I am afraid I have other errands."

Jorum's eyes were large as he made to beg her assistance but she cut him off and said, "unless of course I could convince the three of you to attend to a little errand for me and then I would be free to aid your varied cases."

"I ain't helping you witch!" said the thief, "I don't need no medicine."

The healer laughed, "you will go with these gentlemen to atone for your misuse of my property else I shall turn you over to the rightful authorities."

The boy nodded in disappointed resignation, the young lord looked rather appalled, and Jorum smiled in amusement as he said, "and what is this quest you shall set such unlikely heroes lady?"

She smiled at his words and said, "in a town some thirty miles from here resides a junk dealer who has come into possession of perhaps the world's ugliest painting. You three shall remove yourselves thence and acquire said painting for me thus freeing me up to attend to your needy acquaintances. The painting itself has no particular value save perhaps to a collector of obscure art but to me it has a certain sentimental value and I have long been in search of it."

Jorum smiled, "this seems no nefarious plot. I shall certainly lend you aid, as will my reluctant companion here. What of you, your excellency?"

The young lord scoffed, "I shall attend to this fool's errand but only that my father may gain swift attention. You try my patience madam but for now I shall entertain you."

She laughed greatly, gave them directions and described the painting, and then gave them a few coins for the purchase thereof. She left swiftly to attend to her waiting patients and the boys exchanged an amused and scandalized look. "I am off then," said the thief, but Jorum held him firm by the collar, "you will do as you have promised or I shall see that you face the proper authorities." He sighed but made no more attempts to shirk his duty.

The young lord said, "I shall assume command of this farcical operation as I am certainly the wisest and most experienced of the three of us."

Jorum smiled and said, "as you wish my lord." The thief shrugged noncommittally.

"Have you horses?" came the querulous voice of the lord.

Jorum nodded but the thief scoffed, "you think I would be poking about for valuables in a hovel such as this if I were rich enough to ride?"

Jorum smiled, "he can ride with me. My mount can stand two riders with no ill effects."

Quid nodded abruptly and motioned the pair towards Jorum's mount while he went to fetch his own. "I do not know how to ride!" said Kork the thief.

Jorum laughed, "just get into the saddle behind me and hold on to my waist."

He nodded skeptically but proved quite adept at scrambling into the saddle. Jorum's mount eyed the newcomer disdainfully; the boy laughed, patted the great neck, and tried to reassure the unicorn who could only shake his head in acquiescence. The young lord appeared astride his charger, looked askance at the common sort of horse the unicorn appeared, shrugged, and led the way down the road to Fennec.

The young lord and the thief were neither one interested in talking but Jorum had no such qualms. Irritated by this peasant's behavior Quid scowled, "have you no respect for your betters boy? If I want your input I shall ask it but until then you shall remain blissfully silent."

Jorum laughed, "I am not one of your subdued servants my lord and claim the right to speak as I will."

Quid sighed, "alas that you are not so easily cowed. How is it you come to address the nobility as if you were their equal?"

Jorum smiled, "and who is to say I am not?"

Quid raised a hopeful eyebrow and said, "you are then of noble blood?"

Jorum laughed all the more, "certainly not! In the eyes of the Master all men are equal, it is only amongst ourselves that we quibble so over rank and seniority and power."

Quid wore a look of dread, "please do not tell me that I have been saddled for this entire journey with one of the thrice cursed Brethren!"

Jorum smiled, "I am not sure I qualify as thrice cursed but yes I am of that calling but only an apprentice, so you are perhaps spared the burden of a full Brother." Kork groaned miserably to discover he had fallen afoul of the Brethren.

Quid said, "what a strange company we make! I wonder why she sent us all?"

Kork finally spoke, "a wonder that she did not put a spell on the lot of us!"

Jorum shook his head, "she was no witch. Certainly there are some herb dealers that also dabble in the black arts but she was not one of them."

Kork gasped, "how can you be so sure."

Jorum smiled, "I should have felt it if she were such a practitioner."

Quid scoffed, "my father would allow no such dabbler within his lands so you can be assured she is no meddler in evil."

Kork smiled, "I think I shall trust his lordship in this matter. Feel it indeed!"

The day was getting on and the tired sun had nearly concealed himself behind the horizon after the long day's march across the sky as the travelers stopped for the evening nearly halfway to their destination. They lit a small fire and ate what Jorum had in his saddlebags, being the only one prepared for any sort of journey. The thief's tongue began to loosen in both curiosity and at the absurdity of his situation; Quid seemed to relax and forget he was noble born. Jorum was talkative as ever. Quid asked of the apprentice, "so have you had an adventure or two in your life or do they simply lock you away in a tower until you are mad enough to believe all the stories are true?"

Jorum laughed, "and who is to say they are not? There is often more truth in a story, even a fictitious one, than in much of the vaunted wisdom of men."

Quid shook his head, "your proselytizing will not work on me so you might as well give it up now. I am a satisfied skeptic. I would not even believe the sky were blue if I did not see it myself each morning."

Jorum grinned, "then is it yet blue when the clouds obscure it or when you have not yet glimpsed it of a morning?"

Quid glared at the insolent boy, "why certainly you fool! Your seeming logic will not sway me."

Jorum smiled, "you are the one who brought it up."

Kork said almost to himself, "as a little boy I once thought the stories true! I hoped with all my heart but then life proved them far beyond belief." Jorum looked at him quizzically and he continued, "you would not find them easy to believe if your mother had died when you were just a little boy and your father cared nothing about you. I have lived on the beneficence of strangers and relatives nearly my whole life and supplemented it with what I could scrounge on my own. Where is your beloved Master in my plight?"

Jorum nodded, "the same place he has ever been, calling you to himself through all your silent griefs and unbearable sorrows."

Kork scoffed, "what does he know about suffering?"

Jorum said quietly, "he need not have known death but he tasted it for us. He need not have allowed his creatures the chance to betray him but he did that they might know the true freedom of loving him willingly. He need not have allowed our treacherous race to continue and allow his heart to be smitten each time one of us chooses evil over good, selfishness over love. He knows suffering. He knows sorrow. He has borne them all and will one day overthrow all grief forever but until then we can ever turn back to the source of all joy and he will share in our private griefs."

Kork smiled slightly, "you almost give me hope."

Jorum returned the grin and said, "that is my greatest joy."

Quid scoffed, "lovely fairy tales all! You have no right to steal, thief! It would be better if you just allowed yourself to starve and rid the world of your pestilence."

Kork made to lunge at his tormenter but Jorum stood between them, "peace! This adventure will soon be at an end and there is no need for bloodied noses and missing teeth or cruel words!"

Kork resumed his seat but wore a dreadful scowl while Quid smirked mirthlessly. Jorum could only sigh and shake his head and wonder if this adventure were truly worth it. They retired and were grateful that it was the middle of summer and no rain threatened. Morning came as morning ever does and awakened the three adventurers to what they hoped would be a quick and successful mission. They were soon in their saddles after having finished the scant rations in Jorum's luggage and well on their way to Fennec. They spoke very little though Jorum tried to engage both in conversation but Kork still fumed over the previous night and Quid felt himself wholly above both of his companions. They completed the journey in silence and upon entering the town soon came to the shop specified by the healer.

"You want the world's ugliest painting?" gasped the shopkeeper, "why you are the third group inquiring of just such a work today! I should have sold the thing for thrice the price if only I had known it was so important."

Jorum asked, "who then purchased such a curious work?"

The shopkeeper said, "his lordship the Mayor is a collector of unique art and could not help but buy it. I sold it to him quite cheaply as I feared I would never be rid of the thing. It came to me in a load of junk someone had salvaged from a ruined manor house somewhere in the Wilds. Is there nothing else I can interest you in?"

Jorum shook his head, "I am afraid that painting was our only interest. Who else came looking for the picture?"

The shopkeeper said, "a rather rumpled man in his middle years who said it was an old family possession."

Jorum thanked the man and Quid said, "I suppose our quest has failed. It cannot be said we did not try and I cannot wait to be rid of your company."

Jorum said, "we had at least better talk to the Mayor about it."

Quid sighed, "as you wish, I suppose it will not be that much more of an inconvenience."

They walked out into the bright noon sun and quickly came to the Tavern wherein the Mayor was wont to dwell over the lunch period. The man was easy enough to spot with his bright clothes and the gold mayoral chain about his neck. He looked quite out of place among all the craftsmen, farmers, and lesser merchants that shared his noon meal. He eyed the three boys with interest, especially the richly dressed youth, but it was Jorum who said, "sir, we hear that you have recently come into possession of a rather ugly painting. We were sent to acquire said artwork for a lady who claims some emotional attachment to the piece. Can we perhaps persuade you to part with it?"

The mayor swallowed his bit of toast and laughed, "why you are the second party that has asked about that painting today! I told the other fellow as I shall tell you that I really have no interest in parting with it as it is certainly the ugliest painting on earth and therefore quite valuable. Perhaps for the right price?"

At this he eyed Quid quite openly and the boy scoffed, "I will not part with one piece of silver for that thing and my father certainly shall not!"

Jorum said, "is there nothing we can do to convince you to part with the work?"

The mayor snorted, "not unless you pay me an exorbitant amount of money you won't" Just then, a noise of shouting and wailing came from outside the inn and grew louder as the distraught servant rushed in to speak with his master the Mayor. "What is the reason for such a caterwaul!" groused the mayor.

"Oh my lord!" gasped the servant, "someone has broken into your house and stolen your much beloved painting!"

The mayor stood in indignation, "who would dare such a thing? I bet it was that scruffy fellow who wanted my painting earlier!"

Jorum spoke up, "my lord, if we could apprehend the villain, would you sell us the work for a fair price?"

The mayor thought it over for a moment and smiled viciously, "that anyone would dare break into my house is an outrage and it would be a pleasure to bring the villain to justice. So much a pleasure that I would gladly sell you that which you seek for whatever price you shall set."

Jorum smiled and said, "then we had best investigate this matter further. Can we have access to your home that we may look over the scene of the crime?"

The mayor eyed him skeptically but said, "do as you wish but my servants and guards shall watch you closely. See that you come to no mischief!"

Jorum bowed deeply, "certainly my lord." The mayor snorted and returned to his lunch after telling the servant to do as the boy had asked. As they traipsed to the scene of the crime Jorum said to Kork, "this is certainly the reason you were sent on this mission. Who better to discover the latent secrets of a crime than a thief?"

Kork smiled in anticipation and Quid scowled, wishing to be well away from Fennec by now but also bound by honor to see this ridiculous errand through. Kork contemplated, "perhaps there is a treasure map or some renowned painting on the back of the canvas of such a work? Why else would anyone go to such pains to retrieve such an object?"

Quid snorted, "I think they are all of them mad!" Jorum smiled quietly to himself.

They soon came to the mayor's house and the servant gathered a dozen large men and dangerous looking women to make sure their master's house came to no grief by their hands. There was not much to see. The painting had hung in a place of honor in the main entryway of the house and it was now gone. A stranger had come to the house inquiring after their master, had knocked over the servant who answered the door, grabbed the painting, and ran as fast as he could. The house was in an uproar and the man had vanished though pursuit had been close behind. Kork could find no relevant clues about the house and the servants described him much as the shopkeeper had. Jorum sighed, gave his condolences to the servants to pass along to their master, and led the way out of town for there was now little they could do to pursue the man.

"I told you this was pointless," scoffed Quid as they rode away, "and I will be very glad to see my father again and be well away from you two."

They rode along in amused though disappointed silence for none could help but laugh at the absurdity but yet each felt some remorse for not having accomplished so silly an errand. They went as far as they could while the light lasted and then made a rather hungry camp having exhausted their meager supply of food. Jorum took his bow and hoped to have luck hunting but the light was too feeble to even attempt a shot at a squirrel. He sighed and made to return to camp, but stumbled upon a man sleeping in the midst of the woods. Beside him lay a horrible painting propped against a tree. Jorum drew his sword and the sound of steel sliding on steel brought the man suddenly out of his sleep. He started to find a boy holding a sword to his throat. The man then broke into tears, which only confused the boy more.

Jorum had to smile at the strange situation and his mirth shone through in his voice as he said, "what troubles you man and what is your strange tale that you would steal such a horrible painting?"

The man stifled his sobs and then burst into laughter, "to think anyone else on earth would want that hideous thing! I stole it because I could not buy it. I have tracked it across half the world and seek it only because it is the one small memory that I yet have to cherish. I weep because I thought you had come to take my life after I had attained the only bit of joy I have left to me which is the sweet memory evoked when I gaze upon that hideous work."

Jorum withdrew his sword from the man's throat but did not yet put it up. He said, "I am afraid you have woven a very tangled web for yourself sir. I am duty bound to carry you back to Fennec that you may face the consequences of your actions."

The man's face fell into utter dejection, "that pompous mayor of theirs will call for my head for such an offense!"

Jorum said, "I shall also see that the punishment is no worse than the crime. Why is it you stole that thing?"

The man laughed, "is it stealing to take back what is your own? Long ago I painted that wretched thing for a woman of my acquaintance back when I thought I had some skill in the art, but alas the woman is lost to me and I never did have much skill. She and I laughed long and hard over that awful painting and it reminds me of the happiest days of my life. Alas, she left me for other pursuits and I fell into a discontented depression and cared nothing for my duties as a lord. I wandered for a time and returned to find my estate in disarray and overgrown with weeds. All my valuables were gone and nothing remained but the inconsequentials, including that painting but it brought back bitter memory and for a time I would go off again, make just enough money to survive upon, and then returned again to my ruined estates. Ever that painting was there and eventually it reminded me of the good days without invoking utter despair. But on my last foray someone carted away much of what was left, including the painting, and I was years in tracking it. But alas I am now a criminal. Can you not let a poor old fool alone with his shattered past?"

Jorum shook his head, "I told the mayor I would bring you back if I found you but perhaps we can end this to everyone's satisfaction."

The man nodded glumly and followed Jorum patiently back to their camp. His companions gaped to see the man and even more so the much sought after painting. The man asked before they went to bed, "what interest have you in this painting anyway?"

Jorum smiled, "a lady with a personal interest asked us to retrieve it for her." The man was not quite so despairing as he rolled over and went to sleep. In the morning he was very nearly ecstatic.

They went back to town and sought out the mayor ,who did indeed call for the man's head but Jorum and the town elders managed to talk him out of such a proposal and the man settled for receiving three times what he had paid for the thing the day before. The man opted to join the three boys in their journey back though Quid was quite put out to be riding with another odd companion, perhaps one worse than a peasant for he was a disgraced noble! Laughed the man as they rode, "this is certainly a strange journey, perhaps the Brethren will one day put it into a song or story or something."

Jorum smiled, "that may well be. I am not sure I know of an odder mix of adventurers or a stranger prize. Now what is to come of the painting?"

The man smiled, "I will present it to your lady and we shall see what comes of the tale."

Jorum smiled and the other two scratched their heads in wonder. They camped again that night and Quid cornered the fallen lord saying, "what made you give up all you once possessed? What power on earth is great enough to make one do such a thing?"

The man said wistfully, "love is a strange and dangerous thing lad, and a broken heart is ruinous."

Quid scoffed, "you are all mad! You give up everything because a woman scorned you. That fool gives up all earthly pleasures for an imaginary lord and the thief wanders ever searching for what he cannot find."

Jorum said, "all men can find great love if they truly seek it, but it is not of romance of which I speak. The Master alone is the source of that love; the fountain from which springs the only water to quench our yearning mortal souls."

The man smiled and said, "perhaps you are not so mad as your companion thinks lad."

They arrived back at the healer's cottage without incident the following day and she eagerly came out to meet them. She said to Quid, "your father's toe is in passable health." She turned to the boy, "your master shall recover though he shall be three weeks abed at the least." She turned last to the thief, "what have you to say for ransacking my house boy?"

Kork scuffed his toes in the dirt and said, "it was wrong of me to take what is not mine without asking lady. Forgive me."

She smiled and said, "very well, now what about my painting?"

Jorum smiled, "we even brought the original artist to present such a unique work to you madam."

She gaped as the painter stepped out from behind the barn and gave her the horrendous work. She ignored the painting and gaped at the man, "is it truly you Stanly?"

He laughed sheepishly and said, "it certainly is Morta. Can your old heart still love me? Mine has not forgotten and has spent my entire life pining away for you."

Tears came to her eyes as she said, "I was a fool to abandon you for something as silly as my life's work! This has been no life without you. If you will take me back, I shall not refuse you." Quid could only shake his head in astonishment while Jorum and Kork laughed for joy. The woman said, "when I sent you three after that painting I had no idea what would result. You have my thanks!"

Kork said quietly, "maybe the Master really does care about the doings of mortal men."

Jorum grinned, "it seems I have three weeks at least to discuss the matter with you."

Kork smiled and Quid could only roll his eyes but he did say, "perhaps you should visit my father's estates. I am sure he would be amused by any stories you might have to tell, true or not. This does not count as friendship however, it is a mere courtesy. The thief may come as well."

Jorum smiled, "it shall be as you wish it my lord."

So it was that the three boys spent the better part of three weeks together and the reunited lord and his lost lady were not absent much from their company either. It was a strange and merry party with many tales told on all sides. Even Quid had to admit that he had witnessed a miracle, if a strange one, and his heart slowly began to soften towards such lowly characters. Finally the day came when Jorum's mentor was able to travel once more. He was quite amused by his apprentice's adventures and even more astonished when Kork and Quid wished to go to Astoria to learn more of the Brethren and their strange ways. The healer and her lord were married and lived many long and happy years in that land, though his lordship's toe did not live quite so happily ever after as he might have wished.

### As the Perishable Beasts

Gauk sat on the hill overlooking the sleepy little village below and stared at the fluffy clouds scuttling by like so many sheep. It was a breezy day in early summer when the freshness of spring is still palpable but the contented fullness of summer has already set in; it was warm but there was yet a coolness in the breeze to keep one invigorated. "I am here," said he to the air. He waited for an interminable moment and when nothing happened said impatiently, "and where are you?" Again the only answer was the piping of a sparrow in the grass and the hum of the wind as it passed by. He sighed, his studies in theology were not going very well. Everything else in nature from caterpillars to oak trees were easy enough to study if one had the patience and the time. He was an avid student of nature and wanted to know everything about everything. He had learned all he could of the local flora and fauna and without the means to travel his studies were stymied by the lack of novel subjects for contemplation. Thus he turned his eager mind towards the supposed source of all things natural; certainly if he could understand the maker of all things he could understand the things themselves all the better. However, it was becoming increasingly obvious that the Maker did not lend himself to study as easily as a butterfly or rosebud.

How then was he to learn more if he could not see or touch the subject of his curiosity? A little voice inside taunted that perhaps there was nothing more, perhaps this was it. But Gauk laughed the voice of doubt to scorn and thought of all the wonderful things around him and how they could not be an accident or an aberration. There must be something more.

He brightened as his friend Brin joined him on the hillside, "how go your contemplations of the mysterious?"

Gauk laughed, "still very mysterious."

Brin smiled, "that bad huh?"

Gauk returned the grin, "let us just say inconclusive, shall we."

Brin laughed, "as you like it then." Brin was certainly a skeptic about anything he had not seen firsthand and was not likely to take anything on faith, but he had a sharp mind and a quicker wit thus making him the perfect companion for the brilliant but quiet Gauk. They had been friends since they were old enough to remember anything and had had countless adventures together in their endless quest to satisfy their boundless curiosity.

Gauk sighed, "I do not know how to proceed. I am out of my depth in this matter."

Brin smiled teasingly and said, "why not put your god to the test and demand some proof of him as they did in the old stories and if he does not prove himself then be satisfied."

Guak brightened, "that is an excellent idea."

Brin was stunned, "really? I had thought you would scoff and say that this supposed Master of yours would not deign to the whims of mere mortals or some such nonsense."

Gauk laughed, "not your crazed experiment, your reference to old stories! How do we learn? If not from personal experience we learn from the experience of others, thus the stories. I am going to Astoria."

"Astoria?" smirked Brin, "are you mad? You would starve before ever you were halfway there! What do a bunch of hermits and mystics know about reality?"

Gauk smiled, "certainly more than me. Are you coming?"

Brin sighed, "you certainly could not get there without me."

They quickly ran home to pack and tell their parents of their latest harebrained scheme. They nodded and smiled knowing their adventurous offspring would be back in a week once the rigors of real life set in. They never stayed away very long on such adventures after all. But in this assumption they were quite wrong. The intrepid pioneers set out for and finally reached legendary Astoria after a month's hard travel they arrived weary, cold, and footsore but more excited than they could say, if only for having achieved the success of the journey they were content.

They stayed on for a little over a year and delved deep into the vaunted knowledge of the Brethren, but Brin soon wearied of a life of study and wanted to see more of the world. He found Gauk one day and told him of his growing unrest saying, "we have come and you have had ample time to discover the veracity of this deity of yours. Are you satisfied? I grow bored with this place and their platitudes and will soon be leaving to see what else the world has to offer. I am no more convinced of this Master of yours than when I first set foot within its gates. Will you come with me? Philosopher though you may be, you are a good friend and I would enjoy another adventure with you."

Gauk smiled at his friend's ill-veiled warmth and said, "I cannot leave, at least not yet. I found what I came in search of and it is here I shall remain until duty calls me forth."

Brin gaped, "you cannot be serious. Do not entomb yourself here with these mystics! Come with me for the whole world awaits us. What is there here but dusty books and mythology?"

Gauk shook his head sadly, "here is life and meaning and purpose! Can you not see that there is no meaning or point to anything save that man was created for a purpose and was not the unhappy child of mindless chance? The Master is what gives man dignity and purpose and reason for being. Without him life is like chasing after the wind! It is pointless!"

Brin laughed, "I am sorry that that is your view upon things for to me, life is simply to be enjoyed while it lasts with no cares or worries during or ever after. I have no omnipotent being that demands me to behave myself and live like an ascetic! What does it matter if I live a hedonist as long as I hurt no one else?"

Gauk said, "there is no joy or peace without the Master my friend, and though you may not hurt another living soul yet you will hurt yourself. Why will you not believe?"

Brin was quiet a moment and said, "perhaps simply because I do not wish to. If this thing you have found makes you happy then by all means pursue it, but so will I also do that which pleases me." With that he walked away and vanished from Astoria and his wondering friend.

The years passed and Gauk never ceased to wonder what became of his confident but wary friend. Gauk joined the Brethren and after several years as an apprentice under the guidance of a more seasoned mentor he was given the chance to have his first solo adventure which carried him far to the north well past the bounds of civilization where only intrepid pioneers and fugitives were wont to lurk. He accomplished there that which he was sent to do and rode home content in knowing he had done his best for the Lady and the Master. His contemplations were cut short as a fiery pain erupted in his shoulder followed by the enraged screams of his mount and then darkness took him as he fell from his saddle and met the hard ground.

He opened his eyes briefly to see a man standing over him with a knife to his throat, but he looked more confused than hostile and then he lapsed again into darkness. The cutthroat looked in confusion from the prone figure over which he stood to the leader of the small hunting party who had denied him the right of the kill. This was highly unusual, they never left their victims alive. "Do as I say," said the leader, "bring him and we shall let the lord decide his fate."

They bound the hostage and drug him back towards their encampment. The wary unicorn followed in the shadows, anxious for Gauk's safety but unwilling to risk further injury to his master as long as the fiends were intent on bearing him thence alive. "I do not like it," muttered the stymied killer, "I fear he is growing soft. The lord will set it right."

Brin wondered why he had spared his friend. The boy was obviously a heretic and a menace to freethinking folk. It also went strongly against everything their small clan believed to take a prisoner like this. He sighed, hoping his misguided friend might come to his senses and join them rather than ending like all the others. He was growing soft if such a pathetic thing as pity was playing fitfully through his mind! He quashed the rebellious thoughts and put on his most menacing scowl. They finally reached the village and the captive was laid on the bare earth within a small enclosure encircled by a small log palisade that made attempts to jump or scale the walls futile. The other hunters muttered darkly as they left Brin alone with the captive and he had no doubt they would soon be telling their lord about the weakness of their leader. Brin examined Gauk's wounded shoulder where the arrow had already been pulled free. It was not a bad wound; it was the fall more than anything that had rendered him unconscious.

Gauk stirred, interrupting Brin's investigation. The two friends stared at one another for a moment and then exchanged greetings after a long sundering. Gauk smiled, "I have had the strangest dreams. Where am I? What have you been about all these years? I thought never to see you again and here I thought myself fallen upon by bandits upon the way."

"We are not bandits," said Brin quietly, "in fact we are quite hard on bandits or others that think to take advantage of lesser men. We mistook you for such as it were."

Gauk gave him an odd look, "who is we? Why did you attack first and ask questions later?"

Brin said, "I have fallen in with a group of progressive people who share my ideas on things and have carried those assumptions to their proper conclusion. We dwell in the heart of the wilderness where men seldom come and those who do can have no good intention, especially armed. To defend ourselves and as a small service to the rest of society we kill those who might threaten others if given the chance. We certainly do not fall upon women and children, or those escorting such but all armed men are fair game."

Gauk frowned, "I thought you more noble than to kill for any reason than a just cause. You cannot have become a murderer!"

Brin laughed derisively, "call it what you will. I told you my folk have carried my ideas to their logical conclusion, well that conclusion is that man is an animal and as such there should be no taboo in treating him as such. Any animal is justified in defending itself and its territory and reaping the spoils of said defense. My men wished to kill you outright, as is our custom, but I stayed their hands hoping you might have come to your senses but I see you are just as deluded as ever."

"Why not just let me pass in peace?" asked Gauk quietly, "what threat is one man to you and yours?"

Brin said just as quietly, "it was not a question of threat. We are hunters and we take what prey comes before us, be it a deer or a man."

Gauk gaped, "you cannot be serious! This is some horrible joke!"

Brin showed no sign of laughing, "it is as I say. If men are animals then there should be no qualms about treating them as such. How many weak folk in the south have we spared from the depredations of criminals that might otherwise have fallen upon them? We spare the women and the children, in that at least we are nobler than the mean beasts."

Gauk said in astonishment, "what have you become? Men are not animals that they can be hunted down like deer! You wondered once why I felt the Master so important and this is the reason! This is madness. What has happened to my friend?"

Brin's face hardened as he said, "I have discovered that life is difficult, impossible if you are not as cruel as fate is determined to be. I do not know why I stayed the hunter's blade, it was stupidity to think you might understand. You are nothing but a deluded fool, but at least your life will not be a complete waste. At least we can put your corpse to good use." Dark laughter interrupted this exchange and both turned their eyes to see a tall, broad man standing at the door of the surround. Brin bowed deeply to his lord and said deferentially, "what service may I lend you my lord?"

The intimidating figure said, "I have come to see what the cause of all the rumor has been. Your men fear you are becoming soft, but I hope that such is not true."

Brin said stiffly, "I know I broke protocol for the sake of an old friend, hoping perhaps he might join us but alas he is as stiff-necked and pigheaded as ever. He is yours to do with as you please my lord and I beg your forgiveness in this one lapse of judgment."

The lord eyed both boys grimly and said, "you have been a loyal servant until now and I see you are not lacking in fortitude even so. I will overlook this shortcoming but see that it does not happen again."

He looked Gauk over with his cruel, malevolent eyes and said, "and what of you? Why are you so repulsed by our ways? Is it not natural for the strong to prey upon the weak? Even so we make allowances for the most helpless of your race."

Gauk stood and said, "it may be natural if man allows his baser nature to become carried away with itself but the Master calls us to a nobler goal."

"The Master," scoffed the lord, "what can ruined man know of him and what does he care for you? You are nothing but beasts to prey one upon the other until you have destroyed yourselves. Your fate has been decided but it will wait a few days, for the hunting has been good and a rather unfortunate circumstance has arisen, but tomorrow or the day after you will cease to trouble us." He motioned for Brin to follow and together left the enclosure with Gauk still trapped within. The lord said to his minion as they walked away, "see that this does not happen again. Any further sign of weakness and you know what will come of you." Brin bowed his head in ascent and they walked on in silence.

Gauk wondered at the strange predicament in which he found himself. He felt the desperate fear of his unicorn but his own heart was even more disquiet within him. Could it possibly be true? Could there be such a heartless lot that would indulge in such a forbidden practice? Was it not bad enough to subject your fellow men to theft, murder, and rape but to go a step further and kill for the sake of acquiring meat? It was unthinkable but too horrible to make up. He tried to calm his agitated mount and needed all the Master's strength to quiet his own reeling mind.

He was not alone long in his quandary however for the gate was opened once more and another hostage found himself in the little pen. The newcomer hobbled painfully on one leg; the other was splinted roughly with branches and pieces of cloth. The newcomer eyed his cellmate questioningly until he flopped carelessly to the ground saying, "so you are the cause of all the rumor in the camp."

Gauk said quietly, "I suppose my former friend's behavior can be considered scandalous thinking to such as yourself. What is your sad tale?"

The boy eyed him strangely, "sad tale? I broke my leg severely and it will be months in healing if it heals at all. I am handicapped to the point of uselessness therefore only one practical solution is left me; I can do one last service to my fellow men and thereafter I need worry about nothing."

Gauk gaped, "you cannot be serious!"

The boy laughed derisively, "what is the point of living if you have no purpose in it and there is nothing beyond? I am a drain upon the resources of society and am only doing my duty as I see it. You cannot berate me for acting so nobly can you? I have also come to a point where I no longer find any purpose or interest in life. What is the point of waking morning after morning and going about an endless cycle of tedium and sorrow? We all must die one day and as everything is absolutely pointless it is something of a relief to simply be done with the whole ordeal and do some good in the process."

Gauk was on the verge of tears for such backwards thinking, "a burden? You are made in the image of the Master! He shed his blood to spare yours and you think life is pointless? What is noble about suicide? There is certainly a purpose in life and much more than we can ever imagine awaits thereafter. You will spend eternity in utter darkness!"

The boy gave him a patronizing smile and said, "I am glad your mythology gives you comfort but I am content with my current mode of thinking and would thank you not to pester me with outdated legends and children's tales. Oblivion is all our future! Face the facts my friend."

Gauk tried to speak but the boy held up a hand and began humming blandly to himself as he rolled onto his back and tried to sleep. Gauk paced the wall on the opposite side of the enclosure and prayed as hard as he ever had for strength and guidance and hope for these misguided individuals. Suddenly the gate opened and a pair of grim looking men in their middle years stuck their heads in and called to the injured young man, "are you ready?"

The boy sat up, smiled grimly, nodded his head, and the pair entered and helped him to his feet. They disappeared out the door and the boy gave Gauk an infuriating smile over his shoulder as the door shut behind them. Night fell and Gauk spent a sleepless night on the hard ground of the enclosure wondering what the morrow might bring. Dawn was long in coming and finally he drew himself to his feet and began working the stiffness from his muscles. Some hours later the door opened again and Brin entered looking grim. They stared at one another for a few moments until finally Brin said, "have you yet come to your senses? It is not too late."

Gauk shook his head grimly, "you are those who are deluded! How can you do this to any man, let alone a friend? What did your injured comrade do to deserve death? I have never met so heartless a people! This is an abomination and violates everything the Master holds dear. The Enemy is certainly pleased by your vile practices."

Brin smiled grimly, "I take it you have not recanted. I care nothing for your precious Master or his equally fictitious foe. Since you will not change your mind I am afraid that your hours have run out. You cannot say I did not give you every chance. Someday all folk that hold to such fallacies will end as you and that will be the beginning of a new age for humanity. You wallow in weakness, which causes the entire species to rot from within. Farewell."

He turned suddenly and withdrew but the door did not shut; the same grim looking men from the previous day stood there with malicious grins on their faces and said, "come along then heretic, we have not got all day." Gauk sighed, nodded grimly, and allowed the men to lead him away. Brin watched his deluded friend disappear around the corner with his escorts and tried desperately to fight down the repulsive feeling that rose in his heart. He hurried away to attend to some minor but forgotten task, anything to keep from thinking about what he had just done. He was stronger than this!

An hour later, the leader of the grisly band was pacing back and forth before his hut deep in thought. He had assembled such a promising body of followers and had them quite firmly in his hand. The humans were worse than useless, mere cattle that should be eradicated from the earth. They had hoped the Dragon Wars would have been the answer but that failed utterly. Then they had hoped that humanity would destroy itself but again they had been sorely disappointed; no matter how many disasters they wrought amongst themselves they always managed to crawl from the ashes and begin anew. He was quite pleased with his progress in corrupting at least a small band of that ignoble race, now how to spread it abroad and make believers of the entire world? He looked up in surprise to see Gauk standing not five paces away, standing patiently as if awaiting an audience. He scowled and said, "what do you want? How did you escape?"

Gauk's reply was cut short as Brin came running up the path towards the lord's hut on some matter of business. The lord turned upon his minion and said, "have they not yet dealt with your friend?" He glared daggers at Gauk who waited patiently for a chance to speak.

Brin looked hard in the direction his lord glared but could see no reason for his upset. He scuffed his boot toes in the dirt and said anxiously, "he will trouble you no more my lord. They took him an hour ago."

The man stared in amazement at the ghost before him and said roughly to the distraught Brin, "you are having second thoughts about your dealings with him who was once your friend?"

Brin looked horrified and said, "I would dare no such thing my lord!" But deep within his heart was reeling with horror and grief.

The lord smiled maliciously, "see that you do not. Leave me!" Brin wasted no time in fleeing the awkward scene while the tall man turned upon Gauk.

"There is something very strange afoot," scowled the man, "are you two up to something? If so neither of you are long for this world."

Gauk said quietly, "I am no longer of your world. Your kind is far sighted beyond mortal wont thus you can see that which a living man cannot."

"What do you want then," snarled the eagle eyed man, "are you some mournful ghost that cannot rest? It would be a fitting curse for the treachery of your race."

Gauk said, "I am here at the Master's behest. This practice of yours is an abomination and cannot be allowed to continue. It must be stopped immediately or you bring His wrath upon your own head."

At this the predatory man laughed, "the Master's wrath indeed! What have I to fear? It was your blighted race that caused the downfall of creation and slew the Master himself. It is you who are under his wrath. I will not be taken in by the lies of a ghost!"

Gauk said grimly, "you have been warned. Heed well my words or you shall forever rue them!"

"I will take my chances," sneered the man, "besides, I thought there was no proscription against eating one already dead."

Gauk said grimly, "certainly it is reprehensible but not necessarily evil in desperate circumstances but you murder men to sate your hunger. You do not scavenge a corpse found by the wayside."

The man snarled, "men are nothing but animals therefore I shall treat them as animals. It is not murder to kill that which the Master despises."

Gauk shook his head sadly, "he does not despise men or any other thinking creature. Nothing could be further from the truth. Cease this detestable practice ere it is too late!" Suddenly he was gone and the man nearly fell over laughing. Abomination indeed!

His lordship found himself that evening intentionally seated next to Brin who seemed to be having a tough go of the evening meal. He nibbled at his bread but would not touch the soup before him. His master sneered at his lack of appetite, "not hungry? Has your weakness affected your stomach as well? It will not do to waste food. Eat or tomorrow it shall be you in that bowl you refuse to touch."

Brin dropped his bread and stared dejectedly into his soup, "I cannot do it. Even if it cost me my life I cannot do it! He was my friend."

The lord pounded his hand hard upon the table and snarled, "what does it matter that you knew his name? Is it any different than a cow or a chicken you had grown fond of? He is gone! He exists no longer! What is wrong with you?"

Tears stung Brin's eyes as he said, "he was right and I am a fool! Why could I not see it before? What have I done?"

The lord smiled darkly, "you have said enough. Your weakness is a threat to all the others. You know the penalty for such rebellion. Tomorrow you will die slowly before everyone and then shall grace our table for the evening meal. You shall not have the mercy of a swift death as did your friend."

Perhaps the horror deepened in Brin's eyes as they drug him away to await the morning but the bottomless pit that had been his soul cared little for the pronouncement. The topic of conversation suddenly changed to the weakness of a certain former comrade and speculation upon the morrow's spectacle. They left Brin alone in the little palisade where he spent the better part of the night weeping. Finally as the moon raised her sleepy head above the fence, exhaustion finally brought an end to the tears. Brin thought perhaps he was hallucinating for as he raised his head to wipe the moisture from his eyes he saw his friend squatting beside him. He gasped and the phantasm smiled as he had done so many years before when they were innocent boys together.

Brin stuttered, "is it truly you? How can this be?"

Gauk stood then and began pacing the enclosure as he had done the previous night, saying, "I am myself." He stopped and looked hard at his friend, "existence does not cease with the last beat of one's heart. You have despaired of life because of unquenchable guilt, but this need not be the end."

Brin sobbed, "I have not the heart to continue living and they will kill me tomorrow regardless. I have not the comfort of your precious Master! After the atrocities I have committed he will never accept such as I. All is lost and now you have come to show me that I will not simply cease to exist as I had hoped but will spend an eternity in regret and despair!"

Gauk said, "I was sent not to condemn, for man cannot judge his fellow men, but to offer you hope! You have done terrible things but the Master has atoned for it if you will but let him."

Brin gaped, "he will forgive me even yet?" Gauk nodded hopefully. Brin said, "can he spare me from the fate that is set me on the morrow?"

Gauk shook his head, "that I cannot promise. The Master does as he will with his servants. But he can spare you from eternal darkness and the endless guilt that would otherwise haunt however long is left to you in mortal life."

Brin sighed, "to think that perhaps I finally find the meaning of life upon the brink of death!"

Gauk laughed, "it is far better than missing the point and ruing it for all eternity. Come my friend, what say you?" Brin smiled deeply as he answered.

Morning came grey and wet with fog but this did not prevent the entire population of the little clan from gathering for the day's event. Brin was escorted out to the little grassy amphitheater where such gatherings were held and faced his former comrades. The leader of the grim band was surprised to see the miserable creature facing his doom with some semblance of equanimity rather than despair or terror. What was the pathetic wretch up to? He made his way down into the center of the gathering to taunt his former minion before the festivities could begin. "Your weakness ends at last!" scolded the large man.

"Do not do this!" said Brin boldly and all gathered gasped in amazement at his temerity at such a time.

He earned a slap for his boldness and his former master laughed darkly, "you only make things worse for yourself wretch. What has gotten into you? Last night you were eaten alive by guilt! Now you dare insult all of us here gathered? You are an utter fool, but at least your idiocy shall not become contagious. Begin."

"Wait!" came a desperate cry, "it is not too late!"

"You again!" snarled the leader, "can you not leave the affairs of the living to those still in that condition? Be gone fell spirit. I need none of your lies."

Gauk ignored him and turned pleading eyes to the gathered crowd. One of the grim looking men holding Brin drew a dagger and tried to kill again the annoying man he had killed only the previous morning but the audience gasped as his blows went right through the apparition. Gauk shook his head and said to all who would listen, "the Master gives you one last chance to turn from your evil and seek his grace before judgment comes upon you! Do not die stained with such abominable sins!"

The lord laughed him to scorn and said, "any who want to join this fool can certainly get in line with his unfortunate friend here. I have heard enough. Ignore this prattling ghost and get on with it." The grim men exchanged a smile and moved once more towards their prisoner. Brin's eyes widened in terror, but suddenly everyone was driven to their knees in terror and awe.

A great unicorn stood in the midst of the dell and looked grimly upon the gathered crowd. He pleaded in a voice like all the tears in the world, "will none come to me even now?"

There was some muffled laughter and some very rude comments but finally two men hustled to kneel before their Maker. The Master eyed them quizzically and said to the first, "you are not sorry for what you have done. You simply fear death or what comes after."

The man looked deep into his eyes, snarled, and fled back to his comrades saying, "that should be enough!"

The Master shook his head sadly, "you must come to me because you wish it, not because you fear something else. I cannot shield you from the fate you have chosen unless you accept me as I am and repent of all your evil." He then turned a baleful eye upon the other man who knelt at his feet saying, "you come seeking advantage or power when you should be humbling yourself before me seeking mercy!"

The man smiled greasily, shrugged, and slunk back into the crowd with a whispered, "it was worth a try."

The Great Unicorn then turned his sad eyes upon Brin and said, "you would all be wise to act as this man and throw yourself upon my mercy."

The crowd laughed and the tall man scoffed, "if that is your offer I want no part of it! I will not spend eternity with such miserable creatures as these. I am content in myself and need no weak and pathetic lord to whom I must bow."

Brin and Gauk shared a horrified look but the Master only shook his head and said, "then to yourself I leave you and all your wretched followers. It is as beasts you have behaved and it is as beasts you shall face that which your deeds have earned."

The man laughed darkly and said, "we shall see who is the stronger. Destroy them all!"

Suddenly an ogre stood where his lordship had been threatening and the onrushing horde of men suddenly came to resemble a swarm of goblins. The ogre scratched his head in confusion and the goblins lost all interest in the Unicorn and started fighting with one another and the ogre. The mist darkened about them and they were lost from sight but their horrible screams and cries rent the morning air and caused the hair to stand up on the back of Brin's neck. He and Gauk stood and followed the Master as he climbed out of the dell.

As the cacophony ceased either from distance or from the demise of the orators none could say but Brin stammered, "have they really become such horrible monsters?"

The Master shook his head sadly, "only in form, their minds remain their own but so far have they fallen that their reason is little different from that of the creatures they now resemble. They will destroy one another and none shall remain to again harm my dear children."

Brin wept, "but such was I!"

The Master nodded, "and you have turned from such ways and given yourself willingly to me. I shall remember your transgressions no more and neither should you let yourself be eaten up by guilt over what has been. Remain faithful and you have nothing to fear child. I have much for you to accomplish and you cannot do it in a state of despair. I have forgiven you, now you must forgive yourself."

Brin smiled weakly and flung his arms around the great neck and whispered, "thank you."

The Master smiled and said, "now you had best return to Astoria and this time actually learn what they have been trying to teach you."

Brin exchanged a sad look with Gauk and said, "I wish that I did not go alone."

The Master smiled, "I did not say you were to go alone."

A mortal unicorn came galloping out of the fog and bowed deeply before his Maker and then greeted Gauk excitedly. He nosed Brin skeptically, snorted a sigh, and seemed satisfied, at which the others laughed. Brin gasped, "but he is dead!"

The Master laughed, "and what is death to me who is Master of life and all beyond and before? Farewell my dear ones!" Suddenly he was gone, as was the mist. Brin and the fully restored Gauk shared an astonished and overjoyed smile and then crawled aback the unicorn and set off for Astoria with a terrible story to tell. Naught remained to be seen of the strange battle in the dell.

Before a Fall

The Emperor, the tyrant King who had brought every known nation and people under his iron rule, watched in amusement as the soldier's spear finally pierced the breast of his unarmed foe. The prisoner slumped to the ground and lay still after nearly ten minutes of vain attempts to defend himself and avoid his pursuer. The Emperor was actually quite pleased, for usually such victims either went to their knees in terror or ran for their lives, either way ending quite tragically in a very short period of time. The victorious soldier turned from his victim to receive the adulation of the crowd and even notice from the Emperor himself. The Emperor smiled and clapped to reward the man for his valiant efforts. Such executions, either by soldiers or wild beasts in the arena called 'the Pit' by its supporters and detractors alike, were an every day occurrence and helped to distract the disquiet populace from their uneasy thoughts of rebellion. It also served as a good reminder that any sort of rebellion would not be tolerated.

The last of the independent nations had fallen to the Empire's might and come into line as a tributary state; without the constant war, there was now little to unite and distract the common folk who resented their lack of freedom and the obscenely high taxes endured to keep the bloated Empire functioning. The Emperor had proposed this grisly pastime as a substitute for the once constant wars and also as a means of entertaining and cowing the aggrieved populace. Criminals, rebels, traitors, heretics, those who failed to pay their taxes, and those who fell afoul of anyone in power in the immense bureaucracy often ended as the victims of such a spectacle. It was an excellent way to vent the people's need for bloodlust and violence while disposing of political adversaries and other folk dangerous to the peace of the realm while encouraging others not to follow suit.

The Emperor turned from the triumphant soldier to one of his many advisors and toadies standing not far off, "who was that fellow? He seemed a bit braver than most and gave us more sport than is usual for such wretches. Why is he not in our service rather than dead in the arena?"

The nearest advisor said, "he is one of an obscure and quickly shrinking sect out of the north. They still cling to the old heresies and refuse to acknowledge you as the rightful Lord of Creation. He would have made an excellent addition to our illustrious soldiery but they are a stubborn and obstinate people and not even the threat of death or torture can make them submit to our ways. The only thing to do with them is toss them to the lions."

The Emperor was confused, "which of my subject states allows such heretics within its borders?"

The advisor said, "it is no tributary state my lord from whence these rebels come but a little city-state on the brink of forever so far from anywhere that they have escaped notice until now."

The Emperor smiled cruelly, "all must feel the weight of my yoke! You will send my army with all speed and take this obstinate little Burg. Raze the city to the ground and put all within to the sword unless they recant of their heathen ways. All the penitent are to be brought back and resettled in more civilized territory that we may keep an eye upon them to see if their conversion is in fact real. This will serve as a delightful example to any foolish enough to disobey me or foment ideas of rebellion. All nations and peoples must come under my rule or they shall cease to be!" The advisor bowed deeply and ran from his lord's presence to seek out the generals to impart their new orders immediately. The Emperor again turned his gaze to the downed man and imagined a whole city of such warriors on its knees before him.

"You want us to what?" demanded one haggard General as the advisor told them of the Emperor's plans.

The counselor continued, "you will send a thousand men to Astoria at once. Destroy the city and all within who will not listen to reason."

An aghast man, red-faced with anger said, "you cannot be serious! We can barely maintain the peace as it is. We have a half dozen rebellions brewing at the moment and another dozen are waiting their chance. If we take that many men out of active service the whole Empire may collapse!"

The advisor scowled, "I am serious, deadly serious! You will do as you are told or you can explain your failure to the lions tomorrow in the Pit! You will also see that it is done swiftly and without weakening the Empire in the process else the failure is upon your own heads. The Emperor has spoken and thus will it be done!"

The six men refrained from making further comment but anger, frustration, and astonishment were plain upon their faces. God or not, the Emperor risked much in this little enterprise. He was swatting at mosquitoes when a horde of ravening wolves slavered within the ranks of his own citizenry ready to throw the Empire into chaos. The Brethren were certainly heretics and rebels, but they were a dwindling sect and too far from anywhere to cause problems. They were easily enough dealt with on an individual basis and never moved en masse. The local lords swiftly and severely dealt with any such infidels within their own bounds fearing to draw the Emperor's attention upon themselves. Within a generation they would be all but extinct, yet the Emperor was not content to let them die a natural death but would endanger the peace of the realm to destroy this last merry band of outlaws.

They feared the repercussions of such an impetuous act, but they feared for their own lives even more so General Octova was dispatched with a thousand men to deal with the situation. Octova cared little for spiritual or philosophical matters; that they were heretics did not bother him. All he cared was that the Emperor had said they must be destroyed and so would he do. He was the least thoughtful and the most action prone of the Generals present that day in the capital so it was he that was sent on this errand. The others had risen in rank through years of dedicated and careful service whereas Octova had risen quickly in the ranks due to success in battle and several fortuitous incidents that had brought him to the attention of the powers that be. He was the perfect man for such a job.

He had heard the objections of the others, but the Emperor had not risen to his present position because he was a fool therefore he must be aware of such circumstances and had made plans accordingly, even so, did he not claim some divine right for himself? No mere mortal would claim such if it were not true thus he must have foreseen that all would turn out as it should and no doubt had the power to see that it did. Whatever the reason the Emperor felt confident in this venture, Octova would certainly not be the man to dissuade him. He did not understand why these vagrant storytellers and vigilantes had suddenly come under the heel of the Emperor, but if he wanted them destroyed Octova would see to it. The other generals watched them ride away with a growing sense of dread and wondered if the Empire would survive while so many men who were vitally needed elsewhere were sent on this fool's errand to the end of forever. The people felt the lightening of the guard about them and those of a more rebellious tendency smiled to think that perhaps the time had come.

Astoria had grown much in the past fifty years. As one country after another fell to the burgeoning Empire, refugees had fled to this little outpost of civilization and freedom in hopes of a better life. Those who still believed in the Master also fled for their lives to the last place on Earth where such was yet allowed. As the Empire spread, so did its heresy that the Emperor was some sort of divine being sent to lead men out of the darkness of independence and into the glorious future of ultimate harmony. As such, all must worship said Emperor or be seen as heretics and rebels and suffer the consequences attendant thereunto. While the ranks of the Brethren swelled with the influx of refugees to Astoria, their job was made tenfold more difficult and their mortality rate quickly grew with the advance of the Empire. As the Empire became the norm as newly conquered people got used to the idea, the influx began to dwindle and within a generation ceased altogether and Astoria, the Master, and the Brethren were all but forgotten by most of the world's people. The servants of the Master still went abroad, but more often than not their voices went unheeded by an uninterested or terrified populace or were suddenly silenced for heresy. So far the Empire had ignored Astoria as too far away and insignificant to be dealt with but with the advent of peace within the realm, its eyes turned to this last obscure and independent country.

While the eyes of the Empire turned outward, turmoil began to brew within. The people were oppressed and abused and had lost all sense of dignity and meaning in their lives. They were restless and verging on desperate which was a perfect recipe for anarchy. With the voice of the Brethren all but silenced and the Emperor hated by most of his subjects, the time was ripe for rebellion. The Empire was vast and any weakening of the military strength in a certain area would be an ideal time to flex rebellious muscles. There were those with motives both idealistic and sinister who fed the fire of disquiet thoughts and slowly began to push for the conflagration to commence. While Astoria was concerned with its imminent survival, the people began to ponder the possibilities of a future without the Empire. The more sinister proponents of rebellion were more than happy to see the end of Astoria and also to be offered this perfect chance to feed the flames of chaos.

The advisors, generals, lords, and underlings of the Emperor also saw this as an opportune moment to test the strength of the Empire, perhaps if things did not go as planned one of their own might step up to claim the power that the disgraced Emperor might then be forced to lay down. What seemed a jovial outing or a mere farce to the power blinded Emperor, who thought himself undefeatable after accruing such power, might prove to be his downfall and then he and all with him would descend into utter chaos while the Nameless One whom he denied would sit in the shadows and laugh as he fell. There was far more at stake during this one small enterprise than any could yet see.

The sun had vanished but a pale glimmer of lighter blue on the horizon lingered to remind the Lady of Astoria that night was not yet fully upon her. Suddenly a great gust of wind from the west blew in clouds darker than any she had ever seen in the waking world. They covered the entire sky and all was black about her; lightning flashed and thunder roared in the distance and she knew that a maelstrom was on its way. She jolted awake and wondered what this dream might portend. It was still dark outside her windows and no lamp was lit though she could see clearly enough to discern the accouterments of the little room. It took a moment for her to realize from whence the light had come, but suddenly she was on her knees before its source.

The Master towered above her in her little bedchamber and she felt her eyes drawn into his. She looked up and he said, "these have been dark and difficult times in which I have set you to lead my people, but things shall grow darker before the dawn. Even now, the soldiers of the Empire march upon Astoria to destroy all within that refuse to deny me. You will send fifty of your servants west to meet the oncoming thousand and fifty more shall wait by the cliffs upon the sea. Of those sent west, few shall return." She looked at him then in horror that this perhaps might be the end of Astoria and the Brethren, but there was such peace in His presence that such idle thoughts quickly vanished and only determination to obey remained. She did not understand, and perhaps this was the end of all they held dear, but in the end what did it matter? The Master knew all and all things would be accomplished according to His will in the end. Their duty was simply to obey, whether they understood or not they must still trust. She nodded her head in grim acceptance, he smiled and said, "fear not for I shall not forsake my own." Then he was gone.

She stood, her head aching with the wonder of such revelations and quickly summoned her servant. The sleepy eyed Council of Six was quickly assembled and the Lady paced before them, telling all that the Master had revealed to her. One of the Teachers asked, "are we to abandon Astoria and flee elsewhere to safety?"

The Lady gave her a grim look and said, "the Master said nothing about fleeing the city. Where would we go? What would we do? How would the entire population of the city survive in the wilderness? We would simply be a slow moving and hungry target easily pursued and destroyed as we fled. We shall remain here and send forth those as the Master instructed."

Said one of the Warriors, "how are fifty to fight off a thousand? Of what use can our warriors be by the sea when the enemy shall certainly strike the city?"

The Lady shook her head, "I understand no more than you, but we must do as we have been instructed else all is lost. Perhaps all is lost anyway, the Master did not guarantee victory only that he would look after His own. We will trust in him as ever we have and do exactly as he has instructed." She looked at her six advisors and each nodded grimly and she knew they would not lose heart in the burgeoning dark. They returned to their beds to await the dawn but sleep was long in coming, if it came at all.

Morning found the keep abuzz with rumor and speculation, which was swiftly cut short as the Lady assembled the entire population of the castle and then afterwards spoke to all the residents of Astoria. From the general population there came murmurs of fear but the Brethren remained firm in their trust in the Master and their resolve soon won over the other residents of the city. A few fled, not trusting either the Master or the Emperor but the rest chose to remain, come what may. Supplies were laid by for a siege. Folk from the outlying farms and villages were brought into the city or fled. Scouts and sentries were posted to alert everyone at the first sign of the enemy. The most important task however was to assemble those that would ride West to their doom or East to the sea. There were not enough of the Brethren within the city to meet the Master's quota but each day brought more and more of the Lady's scattered servants home and soon the number was met.

Within a week, both companies were ready to ride to their assigned positions. She paced before the assembled companies and said, "the future is uncertain and unquestionably grim for those of you riding West, but you each agreed to go and the Master shall certainly ride with us all. The rest of us shall await here to see what shall come of this matter. I do not know the course of things, but know with a certainty that we have nothing to fear, no matter what comes of this incident. One way or another, all things shall be accomplished according to the Master's will. Farwell!" There was no cheering but all exchanged grim, though excited smiles and hasty farewells ere they rode off into the uneasy future. Those going east wondered how their presence in such a forgotten place might avail anyone and those going west knew with near certainty that this was their last ride in the mortal sphere, but with the unquestioning courage of their kind, they did not worry about the future or their impending doom, but trusted fully in their Maker.

Corik had only been numbered among the Brethren for three months and was uneasy as he rode alongside his Mentor, a Warrior with over a century's worth of experience called Byorn. Byorn glanced at his uneasy apprentice and asked, "having second thoughts?" They rode west and knew that their lifespan was probably counted in days but rode out nonetheless.

The boy smiled sheepishly, "I just never thought to die so young."

Byorn laughed grimly, "it is not too late to turn back. But I would not lose hope quite yet. Most of us are certainly doomed, but there is ever hope in the Master on both sides of eternity."

The boy sighed, "I agreed to this and will see it through. You are right, I should not despair as we are in his keeping regardless. Forgive my fear."

Byorn smiled gently, "fear is a natural part of life, but we must not let it prevent us doing that which we must and certainly not let it overcome our trust in the Master. There is nothing to fear for those who trust in Him, but sometimes it is very easy to forget that. Even I struggle with that from time to time and I have been doing this much longer than you!"

The boy smiled nervously, "really?"

Then Corik sighed, "I shall do my best, but I still do not look forward to what is to come."

Byorn laughed, "it is just another adventure my young friend, and what can be more exciting than to see what lies beyond death and this fallen mortal sphere?"

The boy smiled, "I never looked at it that way. I suppose we all must die eventually, it is a natural part of life and what have I to fear after?"

The man smiled and said, "nothing as long as you are faithful to the Master."

They rode on for several days as fast as their unicorns could run. Finally, they stopped in the midst of the road and knew they had come far enough. The company was divided into three parties and vanished into the woods upon either side of the road to await the coming army. Scouts were sent out to keep watch and finally the day of reckoning had come. Before the enemy horsemen came into sight, the leader of the small band of Brethren rode up to Corik and said, "you will not engage in the fighting. Stay hidden in the woods and once all is settled, ride back to Astoria and tell the Lady all that happened here and what the enemy plans to do next."

The boy was aghast that he would not be allowed to join in the fighting after he had spent so long preparing himself to die in battle. He glanced helplessly at Byorn who said, "perhaps you will not have to die this day after all. I have enjoyed our time together. Whatever happens, may the Master ride with you."

The boy sighed but said nothing and rode a little deeper into the woods that he might be hidden from casual sight yet still watch what was to come. His unicorn shared his consternation that they would not meet the enemy in battle this day, but both knew their duty and would do it accordingly. The invaders were not long in coming and were heard long before they could be seen. The Brethren remained hidden in the woods as the long file of horsemen passed and it was not until the last third of the column was passing that the Brethren broke cover and fell upon the horsemen. They came at them in three companies, one from each side and one from the rear. As soon as they broke cover, the unicorns revealed their true forms and chaos broke loose as the horses panicked and tried to flee.

The Brethren fought valiantly, as did their mounts, but in the end, even with the element of surprise and the chaos of the horses, the ambush was soon overcome and all the perpetrators lay dead or dying upon the road but five times their number of enemy soldiers had suffered a similar fate. Corik watched helplessly as Byorn and the others plunged into the bucking and screaming mass of horses. He watched his mentor fight for a few moments and then he took a sword in the chest, but before he fell, Byorn's eyes sought out his hidden apprentice and silently begged him to ride. The boy hardly held back the tears but turned his mount and rode as hard as he could, but he did not get far. Several of the enemy horsemen had been carried into the woods by their terrified mounts and now they blocked the path Corik was taking.

His unicorn screamed a challenge and reared, revealing his glory and sending the exhausted horses into fresh spasms of terror, but their riders leapt from the saddles before they could be carried off again, bared their swords, and prepared to go down fighting. One of the enemy soldiers leapt onto the back of the rearing unicorn and seized the boy, holding a dagger to his throat. Cowed, the unicorn draped himself in darkness and eyed Corik's captors balefully. The man smirked and said, "that's a good pony, behave yourself and I might spare the kid. Try anything stupid and you will both die. Now get lost!"

Corik nodded grimly and the valiant beast screamed his frustration as he vanished into the woods. He could feel the faithful creature watching grimly from a distance and knew that he would stay as long as Corik lived which likely would not be long, but he dared not confront the men, for one of them at least must live to carry the message. He chafed at the terrible decision suddenly thrust upon him, but he would do what he must.

They emerged from the woods as the company was setting itself to rights. A great pyre had been built where Octova was preparing to burn his own dead while the Brethren, after being relieved of anything of use or value, were left to rot where they lay. The returning soldiers went directly to the General and presented their prize. He eyed the boy in surprise and said, "a traitor? A scout? How did this imp survive the suicidal attack of his elders? Tell me what plans your Lady has boy and I might spare your life, otherwise you will join the rest of your sorry comrades."

Octova eyed the carnage of the battle with grim pleasure. Corik's heart quailed within him. He did not want to die yet he could not betray his friends. Octova growled, "have you a tongue boy? I do not have time for this. Speak now or you shall be forever rendered speechless." The boy shivered and glanced at the blank and staring eyes of his late companions, wondering if his own corpse would soon be littering the road. What was he to do? He did not want to die but did he dare betray all he had once believed in? Would he risk his soul to save his life? He swallowed hard, perhaps a quick death would not be so bad after all. He tried to remember Byorn's words but they gave him little comfort in such a moment. "Bind him," said Octova, "and toss him on the pyre with our own dead. Let us see if the fire can loosen his tongue."

Corik went white, screamed for mercy, and would have fallen had not his captors held him firm. Perhaps a quick death was easy enough to face but to be burned alive? It was unthinkable! Certainly the Master must forgive him under the circumstances. He felt something rip within himself, a veritable rending of his heart. In the distance he heard his unicorn scream in heartrending grief. He had sworn the Oath and promised the Master to be faithful until death. He had sworn his very soul to this service, but the price was too much. He could not pay it. Tears stung his eyes as he went to his knees and heard himself say, "they flee by the sea. All Astoria has fled east to the sea. Go thence and you will find them."

Corik's eyes were large with shock and terror. That was not what he had intended to say! What had happened? Not only had he broken Oath but he had also unintentionally lied to his captors! "Finally," laughed Octova grimly, "we ride for the sea. Bind the wretch and leave him for the scavengers." The boy opened his mouth to protest but a swift strike from the man holding him sent him tumbling into darkness. Octova laughed all the more, "fool! To think we would reward a traitor with his life!" They finished seeing to their own casualties and turned east towards the sea. Corik was left bound hand and foot, to be preyed upon by the scavengers that would soon take advantage of the remnants of the battle.

He was alone in the darkness and it was a place more cold and empty than any tomb in the mortal world. Suddenly a light impinged upon his utter loneliness and the Master stood before him. Corik took a step back in mortal terror but though everything within him wanted to bend knee to the terrible being that towered over him he stubbornly held his ground. Who was he to bow before the Master? Was he not his own man? Had he not proven himself such by denying Him to whom his Oath was sworn? He would not now grovel in terror before this creature whom all the rest of the world had also denied. Wrath sparkled on the surface of those eyes but agonizing sorrow, of Corik's own invention, filled their boundless depths.

This time he did fall to his knees weeping in horror and sorrow and nearly screamed, "how can you have done such a thing? Why did you not protect your people? Why have you let me fall into darkness?"

The Master glanced about him and suddenly Corik could see the road littered with the dead. He said with quiet finality, "those you call dead are they that truly live. You have chosen of your own accord to abandon me and join the ranks of the dead, though you yet draw breath. You are a corpse that has the ability to move. You have tasted of my blood and yet have forsaken me and thus you have entered an eternal death from which there is no rescue."

Corik screamed in agony, "but why did you let this happen? Why did they all have to die?"

The Master said quietly, "and who are you to judge Me and my will? Have you the least idea of how the universe should function? They died to protect others and did not go unwillingly to their deaths. They knew there was something greater than themselves and that they are in my keeping come what may. Men have chosen to work evil and thus they suffer the consequences of their actions. These chose to die that others might live. In the end all will be set aright, but for now the world continues on in brokenness and sorrow until the appointed time. Each thinking creature has a choice to make and that choice will rule over their entire eternity. You have made your choice and now you must ever live with it. You thought to deny me to gain rescue from my enemies, but even this circumstance I have used for the good of others. You have lied to me and all others and now you will never be able to speak anything but lies."

"I hate you," said the boy, "I do not know why I ever wanted anything to do with you. I welcome my fate if only to spare me from you!"

The Master sighed and said, "you have condemned yourself and even so, I still love you. But you are lost to me. We shall not speak again."

Suddenly Corik was alone again in the dark but it was not the dark of the starless heavens but simply of sleep. His head hurt fiercely but the pain in his heart was worse. What had he done? What was he to do? He came slowly to conscious awareness of himself and opened his eyes. It was evening and already the wreckage was alive with black, avian forms taking advantage of the free meal before them. His stomach turned at the thought that he too would suffer that fate. Suddenly he became aware of a great black raven with far too intelligent eyes perched upon his chest.

A wave of utter terror washed over him, he had faced the Master in his wrath and disappointment but here was utter evil. "Cast you out has he?" spoke the bird.

"No," said the boy who could not speak the truth.

The raven scoffed, "a lovely little curse that. Sadly I cannot reverse it quite yet. He is still the more powerful of the two of us but for how long?" The boy's eyes widened when he realized what this bird must be. The bird smiled darkly, "he will not have you, with your lying tongue mortal men will turn you out, what is left you? You are already mine regardless, but I have things that need doing and can make what remains of your life far more pleasant and satisfying than all your current prospects hold. I will give you power beyond imagining. Power enough to exact revenge upon all those who stand in your way. Well?" The boy smiled grimly not trusting his tongue but the bird knew his answer. He croaked a laugh and disappeared into the darkening forest. The boy suddenly found himself loose from his bonds and followed into the murk of the woods, for the first time that day hope seemed to stir in his heart. But it was not the joyful hope of the Master but the dark and brooding eagerness of the vengeful heart.

Byorn took a sword in the chest, sought out Corik, and then fell into darkness. When he came to himself, it was to find a pair of enemy soldiers searching for anything of value secreted about his person. They saw him stir and the one said to the other, "he is alive!"

The other laughed, "not for long, look at him."

The first appraised the wounds that marred the stricken man and laughed grimly, "he does not deserve the mercy of swift death. His wounds will make an end of him soon enough if the scavengers do not."

They laughed together and went on to examine the next fallen Brother, leaving Byorn in a half conscious daze of pain and agony. The enemy soldiers finished their morbid tasks and made ready to ride. Suddenly a little company emerged from the woods and approached the General. They exchanged a few words and Byorn watched as best he could from his position. His heart sank when he recognized Corik but it nearly broke when he heard a unicorn scream in grief and saw the boy fall weeping. He heard some amused commentary among the soldiers and then to his astonishment they turned towards the sea. What became of the boy, Byorn could not see from his position nor could he move in his current condition. The day was quickly failing and Byorn's strength with it. He welcomed the darkness that was gnawing at his vision; the pain was nearly unbearable and his heart was near to breaking over what had become of Corik. The avian scavengers had been growing more numerous with each passing hour and soon their numbers would fill the sky. So far Byorn had escaped their attention.

He heard the hoarse croaking of a raven and a voice he knew to be that of Corik. He turned his head in that direction and nearly fainted for the pain. He saw the raven and the boy vanish into the darkness and wondered what had just happened. He returned to the least painful position he had found and flinched to find the Master towering over him in the dark. The Great Unicorn nuzzled him gently and said, "I need one to ride to Astoria and tell what has happened here, but more tragically your apprentice has broken Oath and taken up with my Enemy. The world has never before seen nor ever after will they see such a horrid and powerful creature as he will become in service to the Dark One. You must follow after and make sure that his tyranny is of short duration. The army rides east to the sea and from thence shall never return."

Byorn's eyes filled with tears, "how can I kill my own apprentice?"

The Master shook his head gravely, "for he is no longer the boy you knew but shall become something altogether terrible. For the sake of all mortals you must do this thing though it tries you greatly." Byorn nodded weakly though tears still filled his eyes. The Master smiled gently and said, "never forget that I am ever with you my son. Rise and ride to Astoria with all haste."

Suddenly the Master was gone but Byorn found himself whole and healed in mind and body. He stood weakly and wondered how he was to reach Astoria swiftly afoot, for his own unicorn had fallen with all the rest. A sound like a heart breaking drew his attention to something in the woods behind him. A vaguely equine shaped shadow stepped out of the darker shadows about him. It was Corik's former mount and a sadder sight Byorn had never seen. The Master had bidden him seek out the man that stood before him but he could not quite bring himself to trust humans again, after his former master's betrayal it felt as if his heart had been ripped in two.

Byorn threw his arms around the great neck and wept into the mane saying, "I know exactly how you feel in his betrayal, but ours is nothing to the sorrow the Master himself must feel. Come we had best be about the Master's business ere worse mischief comes of this." The great creature nodded grimly and allowed the grieving man to mount and together they rode to Astoria to tell the tragic tale.

The army rode on and finally reached the sea. In confusion they stood upon the towering cliffs that dropped sharply to the sea many hundreds of feet below. How could the fools escape by water if this was what the coastline was like? Octova growled, "he lied to us! I was certain he had betrayed his foul master to save his own life but why risk it in a lie?" He never found out, for as he stood upon the brink of the precipice with the rest of his horsemen, fifty unicorns in all their splendor emerged from the woods behind them and drove the terror stricken mounts of the enemy into the sea with their riders yet upon their backs. The few survivors were easily chased down and none came back to tell the tale to the eager Emperor. As the days passed and no word came from Octova or his men, the uneasy thoughts and rebellious aspirations began to take shape and form. The Emperor's enemies plotted in dark corners and abandoned rooms and soon the entire realm would be up for grabs for the strongest taker.

Corik vanished into the deepest woods of the north and there made vows and carried out rituals darker and more horrible than mortal mind dares imagine. He clung to his new master as a drowning man clings to the wreckage that once was his ship. So his power and evil grew until he was no longer quite human and altogether something quite terrible. Finally he emerged from his dark exile, ready to strike at the heart of the Empire that was beginning to fray at the seams and rot in the middle.

Byorn had ridden back to Astoria and told his tragic tale and soon riders from the sea returned with what had happened upon the sea cliffs. It seemed Astoria had weathered one more storm, but the night was not yet past. Byorn ever wondered where Corik was and how he was to pursue him. He busied himself with the various tasks the Lady set him until one day he felt in his innermost being that the day had finally come when he must fulfill the Master's grim words. He bowed before the Lady and bade her farewell. She smiled sadly and bid him a safe and successful journey. For the sake of the world he knew he must succeed but his own heart ached to be the hand that dealt the fatal blow. Corik's former mount echoed his new rider's thoughts but they both knew it must be done. As they rode south, both felt a growing sense of dread and an imminent feeling of doom though no one else with whom Byorn spoke seemed to feel anything of the sort. Finally they came to the capital and both knew they had found their quarry. In shape and feature it was a man, but in feeling it seemed evil incarnate. They followed at a distance and watched as Corik made his way through the crowded streets and towards the towering castle at the heart of the city.

He demanded entrance at the gates but the guards would not let him pass. He growled something under his breath and for a moment they stood rigid as tree trunks and then fell over either dead or fast asleep. Corik then made his way easily into the courtyard where more soldiers confronted him and suffered a similar fate. Soon word spread and all in his path either fled in panic or fell prone after confronting the horror. Byorn dismounted and bid farewell to the unicorn who could not follow circumspectly into the heart of the castle. The creature made to protest but Byorn called him to task and bade him goodbye. He easily followed the horror that had been his apprentice into the heart of the castle. Finally, Corik made his way into the court where the Emperor and his attendants had been enjoying the afternoon. The attendants fled in terror before the coming of such a malicious thing but the Emperor would not be cowed. "Who are you?" demanded the Emperor, "be gone ere I fetch my guards."

Corik smiled and laughed horribly in answer. The Emperor drew his sword and made a strangled gurgling sound as Corik easily ended the argument forever. He still could not speak truth but in his present form it mattered little what he said for his powers could easily overcome all argument. He would take the Empire by the reins and make it into something truly worthy of his dark master. He tossed aside the crumpled form of the late Emperor and turned to find himself confronted by one brave and utterly foolish man. He started to see who it was. Byorn? He was dead! He saw him die! But then a cruel smile played across his lips, he would have revenge upon Byorn as well!

Byorn saw the confusion and then the cruel determination cross the face of his former apprentice and also realized the truth that this thing, whatever it was, was no longer the boy he had known. He said, "you will not succeed Corik, whatever strange powers you have gained from your alliance with evil. Do not do this." Corik refrained from speaking for his tongue was ever a betrayer and would only embarrass him. He smiled grimly and cast one dark spell after another upon his foe but all to no avail. He growled under his breath and drew his sword. Byorn could easily best him in a fight, but he had no intention of giving him that chance. Corik used his own blade to literally disarm his foe. Byorn screamed and clutched the stump of his severed limb but did not back down. He drew his dagger as Corik came closer and as he approached he seemed to grow until he was thrice the size of a normal man. His limbs elongated, as did his face, and hair sprang from every surface.

Byorn stared in astonishment at the wolf-like monstrosity that towered over him and whose cruel teeth would be upon him in a single leap. He saw his own death written in those cruel eyes but knew what must be done. He held the dagger before him in his remaining hand as the creature lunged. He felt the jaws close around his vulnerable throat and with a loud snap it broke his neck. Corik threw aside the limp form of his victim and howled in delight as he licked the blood from his lips. But his howl of victory ended with coughing spasms and a bloody froth about his mouth. Only then did he realize that Byorn's dagger was driven deep into his chest. He shrank again to his normal size, gave one last piteous noise that might have been a sob, and collapsed before dissolving into an oily ooze upon the flagstones.

The Emperor's minions finally gained courage enough to look at the carnage in the little courtyard, but there was little time for pity or remorse as they saw their Emperor dead and the horror gone. Now was the time to grab for power. The Empire soon collapsed in a twenty sided civil war and it was nearly twenty years before the chaos abated and many nations emerged from the rubble.

### Doomed

"You are doomed," said Melph grimly as they rode along one morning upon their journey. Zack laughed in amusement at his friend's strange humor on such a beautiful day. It was one of those fresh summer days that feels as if it is the first morning of the world and nothing could dampen the spirits of any sensible, living thing, but apparently Melph was either insensible or not living this fine morning. He continued, "you were doomed the moment you set eyes on HER!" Zack laughed warmly, remembering the wonderful woman his friend was referring to. His mind wandered back twenty years to their first class in Astoria. Melph and he had come to Astoria together from the same village, intent on learning whatever they could and finding their place in the wide world. In those days, they had been nearly inseparable but the inexorable press of time and varied interests gradually drew them apart. They had, of course, not been alone in that class and one of their classmates happened to be a rather shy but quite stunning young woman. It was not long and Zack found himself hopelessly in love with the girl, much to his friend's chagrin.

The only problem was that the girl wanted to join the Brethren from the start and the boys had vowed to each other that they would not be drawn into such nonsense, being the worldly and wise men they assumed themselves to be. But the girl perked Zack's interest in the Brethren, as many men suddenly find themselves fascinated by strange hobbies when pursuing their lady loves. He still enjoyed her company, but he also found himself drawn deeper and deeper into the 'foolishness' he had promised his friend he would avoid. As these stories go, Zack of course eventually joined the Brethren and married the girl, much to Melph's continued disgust, but he had grown used to the idea in the last two decades, but he was still unsure either the girl or the Brethren had done his friend any favors. Things had progressed relatively smoothly until about a month ago when the Lady of Astoria, who at the time was nearing her three hundredth year suddenly vanished, as usually happens to the Lady when she reaches that age and another was raised to replace her. The new Lady was what had Melph so concerned on such a lovely morning as her husband now rode beside him, not caring a whit for his own impending doom!

Said Melph, "why are you so unconcerned about all this? Your wife is the Lady of Astoria!"

Zack gave him a confused look and said, "that is fairly common knowledge but I see no reason for concern in it."

Continued Melph, "while you were so busy with all your official duties, I took the liberty of asking a few questions of your precious librarians pertaining to the history of men married to the venerable leader of the Brethren." Zack gave him a curious look but could not help but smiling for all he was worth. Melph ignored his friend's mirth and continued, "of the three or four men recorded in such a position in your histories, not one of them survived longer than a year after his wife's sudden promotion. Do you not see what this means?"

Zack grinned in that annoying manner of his (at least to Melph's more cultured sensibilities) and laughed, "I do not see how it pertains to me. I may easily out live you by two hundred years or I could drop dead tomorrow for all I know. I will continue to serve the Master until he calls me home, whether that be today or centuries from now. I will not walk around in morbid anxiety wondering which breath shall be my last. I would ask that you do the same for both our sakes!"

Melph grumbled, "I was just trying to be helpful. At least she saw fit to get you out of Astoria for a time. This little adventure she has set us will be just like the old days, before female entanglements and moral enigmas ruined you!" Zack smiled to himself and tried to remember the 'good old days' but could not seem to recall enjoying the weary journey to Astoria as much as he had even the worst of his adventures with the Brethren. True, he was a Philosopher, and sometimes did not leave Astoria for years at a time and when he did leave it was not to have adventures such as the Messengers and Warriors faced on a daily basis, but he truly enjoyed every task the Lady had yet set him.

This little outing should be rather simple and certainly enjoyable with Melph for company and such lovely weather. An aged and childless lord whose estates and holdings had dwindled to nothing over the course of his life had written to the Lady saying that he had a dozen fine horses he wished to sell at a bargain price to the Brethren in gratitude for their kindness to him when he studied in Astoria as a boy. They were all the wealth remaining to him and he hoped to live quietly on the proceeds of the sale for the remainder of his days. He had lived wantonly and thus squandered his fortune but hoped his waning years would be more sensible and perhaps he might even exercise the wisdom the Brethren had tried so hard to inculcate into his young mind. Zack and Melph had been dispatched to visit the aging lord, inspect the horses, and if the bargain seemed sound, finish the deal and bring the animals back to Astoria. Zack was an expert in all things horsy and was often employed in teaching the Students horsemanship and its related disciplines. Melph was something of an independent tradesman who made his living acquiring specific things for specific people, or more often rulers or countries. The previous Lady had employed him on several occasions and the new Lady was not long in following suit. Between them, they made an excellent pair to represent the Lady in this matter.

Melph interrupted his friend's introspection and said, "why do you not just resign your Oath and follow me on my adventures? It would certainly be more interesting than teaching clueless children which end of a horse is which, day after day for the next two hundred years!"

Zack laughed, "I thought you said my days were numbered, besides, one does not so easily revoke one's Oath. I would rather die than forsake my calling. Besides, it would be a little difficult since I am married to another of the Brethren and we believe in neither divorce nor being married to one outside the order. I am happily unable to comply with your wishes." Melph grumbled under his breath but was starting to catch his friend's humor.

They traveled on for several more days and Melph began to worry less about Zack's longevity and spoke more about what he hoped to find at journey's end. Zack's usual good humor suddenly slipped from his face as it grew grim as death. He drew rein and Melph looked at him in wonder, "what is it? We are nearly there."

Zack nodded grimly and said, "do you smell smoke?"

Melph's wonder suddenly became deep concern, "yes, look!" He pointed in the direction they were heading and a great plume of smoke was easily seen spiraling out of the trees before them. They urged their mounts quickly in the direction of the blaze. The horse fought his rider but the unicorn screamed his eagerness to discover the source of his master's unease.

It was a grim scene before them as they drew rein in the overgrown garden enclosed in a wall of crumbling stone. The great stone house before them smoked and occasionally a tongue of flame would shoot out like that of a snake or lizard. The collapsing stable was completely consumed by the flames. "This does not look promising," said Melph acerbically.

Zack ignored him and said, "you check the stable, I shall check the house."

Melph did not reply but dismounted and ran for the structure that would soon be lost to the inferno. Zack dashed to the house, darted in, and much more slowly withdrew, dragging the prone form of a man with him. He laid the sprawling form upon the weedy drive, splashed water on his face, and tried to revive him. The man suffered not only from the smoke but also from a ghastly wound in his side. Melph ran up and reported, "there is nothing in the stable except what looks to be a dead servant with wounds to match his master's."

Finally the old man roused from his faint and blinked in surprise to find himself face to face with a stranger when he assumed himself dead or worse. "Who are you?" gasped the old man.

Zack quickly replied, "we have come from Astoria at the behest of an aging lord in these parts."

The man laughed hoarsely but it became a spasm of pain and coughing as he said, "you have come too late my boy! I am all that is left of my once great house which shall shortly cease from the earth. Perhaps it is a fitting end to the wanton life I have led."

Zack asked gently, "what happened? Are there others about that yet might be in danger? We found a murdered man in the stable."

The man groaned in pain and said, "bandits lad, bandits! They took my beloved horses, all I had left and hoped to bequeath to your Lady. There was only myself and poor Jacob my last, faithful servant and friend about. He went to protect the livestock and you know how that ended. They ransacked the house but found nothing of value for there was certainly nothing left. They stabbed me and set the house afire with me still within. Why could I not have lived a better life that I would not be so ashamed here at its end?"

Zack said sadly, "you cannot live again your life but perhaps your death need not be in vain."

The man laughed with his remaining strength and gasped, "truly one of the Brethren I see! Fear not lad, your Master has finally won over my stubborn heart. I may not have much to show for my life but at least I do not fear death any longer..." He trailed off and his eyes glazed. Zack whispered a prayer under his breath.

While the old man had been talking, Melph stood and was slowly backing away from his friend and the moribund man. He whispered harshly as the man expired, "I do not think it wise to stay." And he dashed from sight with all speed. Zack looked around in wonder at the strange behavior of his friend when his unicorn alerted him to strangers approaching, many strangers.

He made to stand but he felt a sword at his throat and a man barked, "if you value your life scoundrel, stay where you are!" Zack froze and felt his sword and dagger being confiscated. The man commanded, "put your hands behind your back." Zack complied and mentally fought furiously with his unicorn to keep him from doing anything foolish. The creature screamed his displeasure but otherwise continued to act the part of a stupid horse. Melph was nowhere to be seen. The overgrown yard was filled with nearly two dozen men and their horses. Zack's captor demanded, "what have you done?"

Zack said calmly, "I have done nothing save to hear the last words of a dying man."

"Who died by your hands wretch!" scowled the man.

Zack sighed, "I did nothing but draw him out of the burning house, wounded as you see. It was bandits that set the house afire and murdered the inhabitants."

The man growled, "we shall see what the Brother says."

Zack brightened, "you have one of the Brethren in the area?"

The man sneered, "yes and he shall be most interested to hear your confession. A strict one for justice is he. Now come along!" He forced Zack to his feet and pushed him towards his waiting mount. As Zack awkwardly mounted, the man demanded, "where are the rest of your companions?"

Zack said, "there was but one other besides myself and he has committed no wrongs either."

The man smiled darkly, "we shall certainly see." He told off six of his men to chase down the fugitive and the rest rode back towards their village.

Zack hoped Melph would not do anything foolish but was unconcerned as to his own fate if one of the Brethren were truly in the village as the man had said. His unicorn was not so sure as he felt none of his kin within fifty miles of the isolated village. Zack sighed and wondered what strange adventure lay before him. They finally arrived at the village, which was in uproar as the men returned with their tale of murder and arson committed against his lordship. No matter that the man had become rather strange of late, he was still their rightful lord and no outlander had the right to impose such an ignominious end upon him. Zack was forced from his perch in the saddle and forced to his knees before the imposing personage that emerged from the finest house in the village. All of the villagers followed suit and were soon bowing reverently before this esteemed man.

Zack's captor was the first on his feet and said with all respect, "my lord, we caught this man in the very act of murder even as our dear and late lord's estate burned round about him. His compatriot is fled but we hope he will soon be in our grasp. This heretic refuses to admit his acts even when his hands are red with innocent blood."

His lordship looked surprised for a moment as he looked over the hostage and said, "what is your tale then stranger if it is not murder?"

Zack stood as there was no one any longer forcing him to his knees and said, "we came upon the burning house and I dashed inside to see if anyone required aide. I found a dying man with terrible wounds about his person. He declared that bandits had murdered him and despoiled his house and set it afire. He died in my arms even as your friends found me."

"Bandits eh?" said the man curiously as he stroked his mustaches, "well we shall see if our search for your missing companion turns up any bandits else I am afraid your future looks grim."

Zack cocked his head and frowned a question, "I was told one of the Brethren was to be found hereabouts."

The man laughed darkly, "it is to him you speak. Why?" Zack was about to say something about the man being a fraud when the man blurted, "do not tell me you claim such an allegiance? Fool! Do you not know I can tell my brothers at sight and know that every word which you have spoken is a lie? Lock him away until we can have a proper trial! Believe no word he says for he shall certainly try to claim allegiance to those which he knows nothing about." The grim villagers nodded and herded the prisoner towards one of the smaller houses and pushed him into a small room and locked the door behind him.

An hour later, a woman entered the dark little room, bringing with her a candle and a plate of food. A grim looking man followed close behind with an even grimmer looking stick in his hand. Two children peeped in at the door in terror and curiosity at such a creature in their house. Zack began to speak which made the man raise his stick and the woman freeze in her steps but Zack continued and said politely, "who is this man you call the Brother? What authority has he in the village?"

The woman looked nervously at the man who nodded and motioned towards a little table and then towards the door. She nodded, placed the food and light on the table and vanished out the door with the children in tow. The man seated himself in a chair and lay the grim stick across his lap as he said, "we are a quiet folk and prefer to be left alone, but we also hope our fellow men will come to trust in the Master as we. He is love you know and abhors nothing but crimes against property and persons, yet even these he will forgive if we but ask him. In light of this I will speak with you in hopes that there yet might be hope for your wretched soul." Zack gave him an intrigued look and the man continued, "the Brother was sent from Astoria, as are all such men, to guide us and protect us. He teaches of the Master and administers justice in the village and surrounding farms. Our lord, whom you murdered, was quite content with the arrangement until just lately when his thinking became skewed with age or illness and he began to object to the Brother's presence. The Brother has been with us for nearly five years and is the best thing to happen to this village in living memory. He brought us out of our ignorance and superstition into true life!"

"Before the Brother, we had always believed the Master asked his children to live according to his laws and statutes as well as trusting that his blood covered our innumerable sins if we would but accept him," continued the man, "but the Brother has taught us that there are no sins save those against property and your fellow men. One may live as one wishes as long as one does not injure his fellows or their property. The Master being Love as it were, this quite makes sense and even if we do sin against property or other men, he yet can redeem us if we are so willing. Now take my woman for example. Most folks elsewhere would be appalled that I had not married her though we have two children, but it is only fair that we each are able to seek happiness elsewhere if this relationship falls through. We need to do what is best for ourselves and each other which is what loving your neighbor is all about. You do not judge his behavior and he does not judge yours and we all get along. If your neighbor steals your cow, then the Brother settles the matter. We give a certain amount of our earnings to the Brother for his services and he uses some of that to help the less fortunate. It is a rather nice little system actually. Now you have only to admit your part in the murder and perhaps you can gain forgiveness and even redemption, if not I am afraid the Brother may have to be rather harsh with you. Make an example and all that."

Zack gaped, "what proof has this man shown that he is numbered among the Brethren?"

"None of that," laughed his host, "he said you would try something of the sort. But we will certainly take his side in the matter. Do not start preaching that the man is a heretic and his teaching false, that is what the old lord sounded like ere the end! We are content with our system and need none else. Now what of your confession?"

Zack shook his head, "I have nothing to confess! I have told the truth!"

"Well," said the man sadly, "the Brother will be in to speak with you shortly but I fear if you do not confess we will be forced to execute you for your crimes."

Zack gaped, "without an objective trial?"

The man sighed, "you will have your trial and no one is more objective than the Brother but examples must be made in such cases if the offender will not bend his stubborn will and seek mercy. I would reconsider were I you!" The man stood, gave the prisoner a last, pleading look, and vanished from the room. Zack ignored his supper and wondered what the impending visit of this fraudulent brother might reveal.

Suddenly he heard a noise on the far side of the room and turned quickly to find the one window finally letting in the fading light of day as someone took off the heavy shutters barring it from the outside. Zack smiled to see Melph poking his head in the window and whispering, "you had best make a break for it! They have not yet seen me or posted a guard at this window but they are talking rather excitedly over the fate of a certain murderer on the morrow!"

Zack said quietly, "I must be a witness to these deluded folk!"

Melph growled, "you fool! You cannot fulfill my dire prediction so soon! These people will not hear you! You must either run, break Oath by confessing, or die for a crime you did not commit. You should hear some of the ideas they have for putting you to death! Now let us be gone!"

Zack shook his head sadly, "they need to hear the Truth even if I die for it and no one believes a word I say. I cannot go."

Suddenly a commotion was heard at the front of the house and Melph shuttered the window and vanished as the door of the room was opened and the Brother entered, followed by a rather large and sinister looking henchman. Zack remained seated and the man smiled at his insolence and said, "you have courage for a heretic. I take it you are truly one of the Brethren? Who else would be so stubborn? You know what faces you on the morrow if you do not confess. I know quite well you did nothing wrong but my followers do not know that and neither shall they know that I am truly the one behind it. That old fool finally decided to see the light after all his years of profligacy and was on the verge of upsetting my dear followers thus he must be got rid of. It is sheer delight that you happened upon the scene and have taken the blame and my bandits have gotten away scot-free. It has been a long time since we have had a decent example made around here. It will be amusing to watch you die as I am sure you will not forsake your precious Master?"

Zack nodded grimly and the man continued, "I only hope we catch your compatriot. Is he also of the Brethren?"

Zack shook his head and said, "he fled at the first sign of danger."

The man grinned madly, "and you stay in hopes of convincing my poor deluded followers of your Truth?"

His smile deepened with malice as he said, "that would never do. I give you one last chance to turn to me for help. Forsake your Master and save your life!" Zack's reply was a stern look. The man laughed, "so be it. Let this be a prelude to what tomorrow will bring. And know that your hope is a futile one as you will never say anything to anyone again."

He motioned to his minion who approached the prisoner who was now on his feet and backing to the furthest corner of the room but there was nowhere else to go. Sounds of a scuffle and a muffled scream that died away into incomprehensible groanings were heard by the master of the house who quickly dashed from the door where he had been listening. The Brother and his minion emerged, the latter clutching a bloody dagger and what the horrified host soon recognized as the prisoner's tongue. Laughed the Brother, "he will no longer spout heresy in my presence. He may yet confess on the morrow else he knows what awaits him. See to his comfort and security until the trial." He laughed as they vanished from the house.

The host dashed into the makeshift prison and found the man seated upon the bed, clutching at his mouth. The host stuttered, "see what comes of crossing the Brother? Worse will come of it unless you confess!"

There came another clatter at the window and Melph appeared once more. He shook his head grimly and said, "you will be witnessing to no one now my friend! Curse your stubbornness, now let us be gone!"

Zack eyed his host who only gaped at the strange man and finally nodded in resignation but before he could act, Melph yelped and vanished from sight and the vile henchman looked in the window and growled, "we caught your friend!"

The window was secured and the minion vanished with his prisoner. Zack's eyes were wide but not at the capture of his friend nor with the pain but with wonder. His host's eyes suddenly became even wider as the captive spoke in awe, "I have been healed! I can speak! Did you overhear what your so-called Brother said of his part in the murder of your lord?"

The man gaped, "how?"

Zack smiled, "the Master has his reasons. Come!"

The man blurted out, "I heard everything! Can it be true? Is it all a lie?"

Zack asked, "what has your conscience always told you?"

The man looked dejectedly at the floor and said, "that I was living a lie. The Brother was constantly reassuring us that we might live as we choose but ever our consciences smote us. I never felt such constant remorse under the old ways! What the Brother has just spoken only confirms what my heart has always known. What am I to do?"

Zack said, "I must go after those bandits. They are the allies of this rogue Brother and if I produce the true thieves, my friend and I will no longer be accused of this crime and perhaps your deluded village might actually listen to the Truth."

The man smiled sadly, "I doubt it, most will side with the Brother regardless, they like what he says too much. It is much easier to believe that the Master is all Love and not Just or Righteous."

Said Zack, "yet he is also merciful and gracious. He will take you back."

The man shook his head, "I am not so sure my comrades will want him back. They like their justified hedonism. Even if you can find these scoundrels and get a full confession I fear you will still be in very grave danger."

Zack nodded grimly, "so be it but it must be attempted."

The man asked, "how will you find them and confront them alone?"

Zack smiled, "my unicorn has tracked them and tells me they are very nearly incapacitated with drink. It will not be difficult."

The man gaped, "are there truly such things as unicorns? Oh fool that I have been to believe the Brother! You are truly one of the Brethren."

The man smiled, "then I will let you go, for I can no longer dwell under the rule of such a man and may the Master have mercy upon me!" He grinned ruefully, "to think I had tried proselytizing you!"

Zack smiled, "and you did a fair job of it, even if your theology was a tad askew." The man made sure there was no one watching the house and then helped his late prisoner vanish into the night.

Melph was taken to the Brother's great house where he met his Greatness himself. Once they were alone save for the horrible henchman, the Brother began, "are you willing to confess? You saw what came of your friend's stubbornness. You need not share his fate."

Growled Melph, "I suppose it is his stubbornness that got me into this mess. I shall humiliate myself but it is not a fate worse than death. What must I do?" The Brother smiled and began to preach to his new acolyte.

Thanks to the scouting foray of the unicorn (who had nothing else to do while his master was incarcerated) the drunken scoundrels were easily captured. Zack rode into their midst with his great mount revealing his true form and they were so drunk and overawed that they became as docile as kittens. He herded his captives back towards the village and came with the dawn just as the stir began that the prisoner had escaped. The unicorn made the villagers uneasy, as did the bandits. What was going on? The Brother wasted no time in storming up to the yet mounted man and demanding, "what is this?"

Zack smiled and to the Brother's astonishment said, "your murderers and thieves. Release my friend and tell these people that you have lied to them all these years."

"How is it you speak?" said the awed Brother.

Zack smiled, "the Master had mercy, but more to the point, a use for my tongue. Now release your hold on these folk."

The Brother turned to his people and asked, "well? Who will you believe? This scoundrel or your beloved leader?"

Zack's former host spoke up, "I heard the Brother proclaim last night that he had plotted our lord's murder and was only too happy to blame it on these men."

Melph spoke, "I, like a fool, lost faith and was ready to confess to a deed I did not do to save my life! This man is a liar and a murderer; my friend speaks the truth."

The villagers began to murmur and mumble amongst themselves. They did not like being deceived but neither did they like the idea of returning to their old ways after so many years of living as they pleased. The Brother sensed their disquiet and said grimly, "you had best choose quickly. Will you choose me or these conspiratorial heretics?"

Finally one brave man spoke up, "I do not like this fool traipsing in here and telling us that the way we are living is wrong! If his precious Master really loved us would he not let us live as we pleased?"

Zack asked, "is a parent unloving when they reprimand a child for doing some wrong or do not allow the child to always do exactly as it pleases? The Master is most concerned about your soul and the growth thereof, sometimes we must do those things which we must rather than what we wish. It is the only way to grow."

The crowd began to murmur, they did not like being preached at by one they thought a murderer only the day before. Melph and the repentant villager had edged closer to Zack who had slid from his unicorn's back to address the Brother. Melph whispered, "this is not looking good."

Zack nodded grimly, "it will take a miracle to turn the wrath seething within the villagers' hearts and minds. You two may have earned yourselves an untimely death."

Melph laughed grimly, "I told you you were doomed, but at least I can say I am proud to die alongside you and at last I understand why you are willing to die for such a cause. My one regret is not coming to this conclusion sooner."

Zack shared an enthusiastic smile with his friend and the villager said, "at least I saw the light before the onset of night. I am proud to die beside you my friends."

"And who said you must die?" asked the Master as he stood before them in all his radiance. The three men and the unicorn were suddenly on their knees before him and trembling with awe and joy. He smiled at their stunned expressions after such a rescue and said, "you did require a miracle did you not?" The whole world seemed to dance for joy with his mirth and he continued, "now you had best return to Astoria and see what the Lady would do about this heretical village. Your sudden disappearance will cause quite a few hearts to reconsider what you have said and they will require your wisdom in the coming days. As for the master heretic and his henchmen, they must face justice for their crimes. Farewell!"

Suddenly he was gone and they found themselves on a hill overlooking a city that Zack was pleased to recognize as home. They rode quickly to the Keep and reported their strange ordeal to the Lady. By the time she sent her servants to the distant village, the Brother and his bandits were fled but the villagers were lost in confusion and conflict and finally began to listen to what they had long denied as Truth. The Brother and his lot were finally captured in their continued attempts at banditry and found justice at last. Zack, much to Melph's surprise and great joy, lived at least a decade longer than expected and for all I know might be living still.

### Endures All Things

The world was aflame with autumn and the horses seemed able to fly that day. They chased through valleys full of yellowed grass and glades afire in crimson and gold. The haunting song of geese overhead and the chill in the wind added to the vibrancy of the day. As the sun withdrew amid splendid clouds of scarlet and gold, the merry pair made their slow way home. Selendra nearly glowed with joy and exhilaration and Ian was quietly ecstatic. Ian had been accompanying Selendra on rides since she was old enough to go alone. She was the only child of a once great lord and he would not hear of her riding out alone. Ian was one of the stable boys, the son of a late groom and a housemaid. At first she had been indignant at the thought of not being allowed out in the world alone, but Ian proved to be such a good companion that soon she quit complaining lest her father decide one of the guards must accompany her instead. He was two years older than she, quiet, thoughtful, and never one to make mischief. When she wanted company he was a good conversationalist and when she wanted to be alone, he was so silent and unobtrusive that he might have been her shadow. They were the dearest of friends though Selendra dared not let her father know how much she cared for the boy or she would be escorted by the oldest and grouchiest of her father's soldiers and the boy would be turned out of the house permanently.

Ian greatly admired Selendra but also knew that what both of them desired above all else could never be. She was the heir of what remained of her father's estate and he hoped to improve his dwindling lot by marrying his daughter well. And it seemed such a match was imminent. The neighboring lord, who had already engulfed some of Lord Sendric's holdings, had a son he very much wished wed to Selendra that thereby he might consume what little remained to her aged father. Jorsh was a big, strong, and not very bright young man who was quite proud of his physical bearing and wealthy father. He had often glimpsed the girl riding abroad upon a morning and liked what he saw. The two lords agreed and the match was made, much to Jorsh's delight and Selendra's dismay.

Ian's heart sank, he knew he could not woo Selendra but knowing her matched with such an unworthy fellow nearly broke his heart. This bright, lively girl would soon be crushed into a small, pitiable creature under such an oppressive master; she would wither away without hope or joy though once both had flourished within her. As the wedding day approached, Jorsh spent most of his free hours calling upon Selendra. He had often seen the innocuous little stable boy accompanying her on her rides, but it was not until he became something of an inmate at the house that he began to notice her regard for the ridiculous servant. Jorsh also began to see how little the boy admired himself and how much the boy regarded his mistress. Something must be done about the little weasel ere the wedding; Jorsh would brook no competition, even from the lowliest of men. With his luck, his new wife would demand that the creature remain a part of the household and that he could not bear! No, something must be done now and done in such a way that it did not cast any shadow of doubt upon Jorsh.

Ian did not approve of Jorsh, but there were many amongst Sendric's household that toadied up to him, hoping to gain a good standing with their impending new master. Several of these were willing to say and do just about anything to gain Jorsh's favor. One night as he was leaving, Jorsh called aside one of the grooms and a young guard and asked after his young nemesis. The groom snorted, "him? He ain't nothing special. He does his job well enough and takes care of his mama. Besides mooning after the Mistress he ain't a bad sort."

The soldier scoffed, "he makes the rest of us look bad. Never causes problems or slacks off, does that one. He may be love sick over the girl but he never lets it get in the way of his duties or lets on to the master."

Jorsh asked, "so there is nothing I could use to discredit the rascal? Nothing to send him away in disgrace?"

The groom shook his head, "he's been too good a servant for too many years. Even if we contrived something none would believe it. Besides, the mistress would speak for him as would half the staff."

Smirked the soldier, "if you want him out of the way just leave that to us."

Jorsh smiled darkly, "just make sure this does not come back to haunt me and I will make it well worth your while when all is said and done." The three shared a silent laugh and then vanished into the night about their various tasks.

The next evening, the groom sidled up to Ian and asked, "do ya want to run over to the inn tonight?" Ian gave him a strange look, this man had never been particularly friendly before and the man must know he had never set foot inside an ale house. The man continued as if reading his thoughts, "I know you don't usually go in for that sort of thing but I heard one of the Brethren would be there and thought you might like to come with."

The boy smiled and said, "that is quite another matter. I would be quite delighted to accompany you once I finish my chores."

The groom smiled darkly, "I very much look forward to it."

Ian finished his chores, found his mother in their room, and told her of his anticipated adventure. She said thoughtfully, "it is a worthy cause, just be careful, for this man you are going with is not exactly a man to be trusted, but perhaps this night will do him good." He kissed her goodbye and ran to find his companion, eager for a night abroad.

"My mother thinks this is a wonderful opportunity," said the boy as they walked along in the darkness.

Said the groom in surprise, "who else did you tell about this little excursion?"

Ian said confusedly, "no one. Why the concern?"

The groom relaxed, "I just didn't want the whole house knowing I might be turning soft, that's all." The boy nodded, thinking he understood. That was his last thought before he felt a ferocious pain to the back of his head and then he lay sprawled upon the road. The groom exchanged a grin with the soldier there in the dark as they stood over the prone form of their victim. "Now what?" asked the groom, "his mother knows where he was going but no one else."

Said the soldier, "she will definitely make a fuss when her son does not return, especially if she finds out your little lie about one of the Brethren being about. What should we do with him?"

Replied the groom, "I don't really want to kill him but we can't hold him prisoner without risking discovery and I doubt he would be reasonable enough to leave and never come back. I don't see as we have any choice."

The soldier smiled darkly, "it will serve the little rat right for making us look bad all these years and will also get us in good standing with our new master. It is not like anyone but his mother will miss him after all. Maybe the mistress but this should just drive her closer to her lord in her grief."

The groom said reluctantly, "you must be right but how should we go about it?"

The soldier said, "it will need to look like you were both overcome by brigands on the highway. That means I will have to rough you up a bit so you don't look guilty and then the boy will need to die by some violent injury common to robbers."

The groom snarled, "you will not touch me!"

The soldier laughed darkly, "and just how are you going to explain to everyone how the boy died while in your keeping?"

The groom shrugged, "can't we just toss him off the bridge and tell everyone he stumbled in the dark?"

The soldier raised his club, "no one would believe that."

The groom looked at his coconspirator as he approached with his weapon raised and screamed as he fled, "I want no part in this!" The soldier snarled and dashed after his prey lest he betray them both.

Ian raised a hand to his head and groaned once he was sure the villains were well out of earshot. The blow had stunned him but he had caught the entire conversation, especially the part about their new master. He shuddered to think what would come of Selendra if she married such a man as this! He crept into the bushes along the road, concealed himself as best he could, and then lapsed into an uneasy sleep. As dawn was breaking, he was wakened by the muttered cursing coming along the road. It was the soldier looking for his victim but having as little luck in finding the fool as he had in chasing down the groom the previous night. Suddenly there came the sound of hooves upon the road and the frustrated soldier vanished into the bushes so as not to be seen. He watched from his hiding place and seeing that it was Jorsh, he leapt from concealment and waved for the man to stop. The young lord was far from pleased at this interruption in his jaunt to see his beloved, but recognizing the fellow he had no choice but to stop.

"What is it?" scowled the lord as he slid from his saddle. The soldier stuttered out his tale. "You lost them both?" raged the man, "what if word of this reaches the wrong ears? You are less than worthless!" But the soldier did not hear the last of the words directed at him for he lay dead at Jorsh's feet. The man smiled down mirthlessly at his handiwork, cleaned his sword on the fool's cloak, and quickly hid the evidence in the bushes from whence he had sprung.

Ian shivered as the man mounted his horse and continued on his way. There was no way he could go home with that killer awaiting his return for he would likely end as the soldier had. But neither could he let Selendra and her father, not to mention the entire household including his own dear mother, fall into the hands of such a villain. But what to do? Who would believe his accusation that Jorsh was a murderer? No one at home would believe him save his mother and that was no help. He could take it to the Guards or the King but they would not believe him either. Then he remembered his errand of the previous night. The Brethren were renowned for their ability to sense when someone was lying. There might not be a Brother at the inn but the King certainly had an Advisor from Astoria. The boy crept from his hiding place, swayed slightly as he stood, and set off to seek an audience with the King's Advisor.

Ian did not take into account his head injury or his recent lack of adequate sleep, water, and food. Less than an hour into his journey he fainted upon the way. A farmer hauling a load of apples into town noticed the boy laying by the wayside and drew up his team. He turned the boy over and Ian stirred with the man's touch, groaning as he did so. The boy smiled ruefully at his rescuer but then noticed the wagon and asked, "could you give me a lift into town sir? I have a dire errand but fear myself in no condition to carry out my task."

The man studied the boy carefully and said, "you look like you have had quite a night lad, but you seem of an honest sort. Get up in the wagon, help yourself to the apples, and I will get you into town quick as I can." The boy smiled thankfully and allowed the farmer to help him into the wagonbed where he was soon quite comfortable and found the juicy fruit reviving to his spirits.

They reached the capital city by midafternoon and the boy thanked his savior enthusiastically and immediately set off towards the castle that he might seek an audience before the day was out. The farmer watched him go, wondering what was so important but shrugged it off and turned back to the business at hand. The boy was very nearly to the castle gates when an arm shot out from an alleyway, grabbed him roughly by the shoulder, and pulled him into the grim confines of the alley. He turned around, ready to run or fight but was surprised to find the groom from the previous night. "What are you doing?" demanded the groom.

"I am going to the King's Advisor from Astoria for I fear none else will believe me," said Ian boldly.

The groom snarled, "that would be a very unwise thing to do."

Ian finally noticed the dagger the man held in his hand and the boy stuttered out, "do you not know what happened to your comrade?"

The groom frowned, "what are you talking about?"

Ian quickly told his tale much to the astonishment of the groom and finished with, "we must stop Jorsh from marrying Selendra."

The groom shrugged, "what is that to me? He will kill us both if ever he sees us and I have no intention of ever letting that happen. And neither do I plan on letting you tell the King, for that will only result in my arrest for assault and attempted murder."

Ian said desperately, "you were reluctant to kill me last night and for that I thank you. What will it avail you now? Jorsh is the main villain here and he must be stopped. If murder is your game, then know I will not die quietly. You will bring doom down upon yourself all the sooner."

The groom snarled, "very well, I shall use what time I have to disappear, but know if ever we meet again you shall rue this day."

Ian nodded and dashed from the alley lest the man change his mind and pursue, but it seemed he was intent on flying as fast and as far as he could ere word got out of his actions the previous night. The boy ran up to the guards at the castle gates and begged an audience with the King's Advisor from Astoria. The guards eyed the dirty and exhausted boy, barely containing their mirth that such a one would demand an audience with any related to the royal court. They shook their heads and told the boy to go about his business ere he ended in the dungeons for bothering them.

Ian cried desperately, "but it is a matter of life and death! There has been murder done and the villain goes about free!"

The guards turned a deaf ear and one was about to teach the child a lesson with the blunt end of his spear when a voice said, "let the boy pass. I shall gladly hear him." The guards turned in surprise to see the very man the boy sought standing in the courtyard and watching the scene.

The guards growled, "very well but see that he comes to no mischief or on your head be it." The Brother bowed his acceptance and motioned for the boy to follow to a quiet corner of the courtyard.

"Now what is all this about murder and villains lad?" asked the man patiently.

The boy said through his awe at being in the presence of such a legendary personage, "this very morning I watched a young lord kill a man in cold blood and hide the crime under the bushes along the road. This very man plans to wed my Lord's daughter in only a few days."

The man felt the truth in the boy's words and asked, "why did you bring this to me and not to your master or the Guard?"

The boy said quietly, "who would believe me? I am but the least of the servants in the house of the least of the Lords in the realm. He is the son of one of the greater lords of the realm! I knew you would hear the truth and know what to do about it."

The man nodded, "a wise course of action. I will take this immediately to the King as it involves his lords, and then I think we shall soon be paying your master a visit."

The boy grinned but was dumbfounded when the Brother said he would be explaining the whole thing to the King himself. His Majesty was not pleased to be interrupted at supper but it seemed a matter of great import so he allowed the importunity. The King looked agape at the boy and asked of his Advisor, "is this the truth?"

The Brother nodded, "it is Highness. What would you have done about it?"

The King sighed, "this cannot be allowed to go unpunished yet it involves one of my most powerful lords. You must let the youth incriminate himself and limit the damage to the rest of my subjects."

The Brother bowed and said, "we shall leave immediately upon the morrow my Lord. Tonight the boy needs a good meal and a sound sleep."

After the aforementioned refreshment, Ian felt quite ready for an adventure, especially one that involved rescuing a lady in distress. It was quite an adventure already to encounter one of the Brethren, to stand before a King, to sleep in a castle, and now to ride a unicorn! They reached the now miniscule estates of Lord Sendric without incident and easily gained an entrance, for the Lord was always eager to meet with anyone associated with the King. Just as they were dismounting, Jorsh came round the corner of the house with Selendra on his arm; she did not seem overly pleased with his attentions but accepted them for her father thought she must. He glimpsed the boy and stopped suddenly, thrusting the lady aside and reaching for his sword. Hate and anger roiled in his eyes as he raised the weapon and charged the boy, heedless of all else about him. Ian's eyes were large as the blade was blocked mere inches from his head by the Brother's blade. Seeing himself incriminated, Jorsh lashed out with everything that was in him like a cornered wolf, knowing it was hopeless but determined to kill as many of his foes as he could ere his own demise. But the Brother was too skilled for the boy who soon lay clutching his wounded shoulder and staring daggers at man and boy both, snarling, "my father will have both your heads for this!"

Lord Sendric came running out of the house from whence his terrified daughter had fetched him and he demanded of the sword wielding stranger, "what is the meaning of this?"

The Brother collected Jorsh's sword and put away his own blade saying, "this lad witnessed a murder yesterday morning and very nearly had his own throat cut the night previous to that. The perpetrator of the whole ugly business went mad at sight of him and forced me to defend the boy as well as myself."

The old man gasped, "can this be true? Would I unite my daughter to such a scoundrel?"

Sneered Jorsh as he struggled to his feet, "it is quite true and your daughter will still be my wife! Go to my father and the King! We shall yet see justice done."

The Brother shook his head, "it was the King that sent me."

The old lord sat down hard and said, "what am I to do? Is my house to fall so utterly into ruin?"

Said the Brother with a smile, for he had been watching Ian and Selendra while the discussion had been going on, "why not allow your daughter to marry the man of her choosing? Perhaps there is yet hope for your crumbling estate if she chooses a man of wisdom, ingenuity, and valor."

Sendric looked up hopefully and asked, "and where is such a man to be found?"

The Brother smiled down at the boy and said, "the very lad who risked so much to save your daughter from ruin."

The old lord gasped, "a stable boy?!"

The Brother laughed, "I think the younger set have no such qualms. I think the quality of the person and not of the pedigree should count for something, but the choice is yours my Lord."

The old man studied the boy carefully and then said cautiously, "perhaps."

"No!" shrieked Jorsh, "I will not lose my place to a skulking peasant!" He had lost his sword but still possessed a dagger which he drew forth and leapt towards his formerly beloved but Ian dashed between them without a thought for himself. The Brother's sword flashed in the sun as he drew it forth to ward off the villain but he was too late. Even as Jorsh fell pierced through the heart by the Brother's blade, Ian lay just as lifeless with the dagger buried in his own chest.

"No!" wept Selendra as she fell into her father's arms, sobbing in grief. The Brother shook his head sadly at the wreck of two young lives.

Ian's mother had come out of the house and watched silently; she nearly collapsed but one of the other maids held her as she grieved for her lost son. Collecting herself somewhat, she cautiously approached her mistress and said through her tears, "he loved you my dear. More than he loved even himself or his own dear mother. Now we must go on living without him, but let us live in such a way so as not to make his sacrifice vain."

Selendra smiled through her tears and embraced the weeping woman and together they found solace in their grief. Her father was aghast at the very idea of her marrying a peasant. He was dumbfounded when she said she was going to join the Brethren. Selendra was even more surprised when Ian's mother said she thought she might do so as well. But the boy's courage had inspired such feelings within them that they could not be satisfied with less, and following his example, they abandoned everything that others might discover what it is to truly live.

Friends of Old

Kenin's heart trembled within him, more out of dread and guilt than for the excitement of an illicit night abroad. His hedonism was not as wonderful as he thought it must be only that morning when his friends had suggested this evening adventure; it would be much more enjoyable if his conscience did not constantly torment him with its incessant complaints. He sighed, not enjoying this evening in the least. They had snuck away from Astoria and currently inhabited the inn at Waymeet, long after Students were expected to be in bed; even for such a seemingly small infraction, Kenin was in an agony of distress over his ill-conduct. Had not the Lady given him permission to take his Oath not three days before? And here he was sneaking out of the city, betraying her trust, and for what? To experience the joys of rebellion before he committed to a life of asceticism? Or so his friends had gaily spoken to convince him to come along on this misadventure. All he could do was sit there and rue that he had ever listened to their folly and beg the Lady's forgiveness once he returned to the city, if ever he overcame his shame and fear and gained courage enough to go back.

"You are a very dismal companion tonight Kenin," said Wilim who himself had spoken only thrice in the last hour.

Tell laughed nervously, "this has turned out to be a rather dreary adventure. Kenin is tormented with guilt and we also are ill at ease and for what? A half empty inn with nothing at all interesting going on? Bah! We had best return to the city and go to bed for all the excitement around here."

Kenin had jumped to his feet at the first sign that his friends were tiring of their little stint of rebellion but they were not so swift to follow suit. They were quickly on their feet and grasping at their sword hilts however when they heard the door bang open and slam shut just as quickly; Kenin's companions were just as antsy as himself, just not so obvious in showing it. They stared in amazement at the man who had invaded the hitherto silent inn. He was a messenger or a soldier by the look of him, but it was the arrow protruding from his side and the bloodstain on his tunic that truly amazed the three young men. The man leaned against the door as if holding it shut against his pursuers or perhaps because it was all that held him upright. For all his physical weakness and exhaustion, for he was breathing hard as if he had been in great haste, he surveyed the room with the eye and cool of a professional soldier and quickly took in every person and thing in the common room. His eyes fell on the three boys with half drawn swords.

He gasped out, "have you horses?" The boys nodded in silent confusion. "Are you trustworthy?" continued he.

Kenin spoke haltingly, "it depends upon the cause sir. We shall do nothing to undermine the safety and rights of others nor defy the Laws of the Master."

The man smiled, "I have not stumbled upon one of the Brethren have I?"

Kenin blushed crimson at this reminder of his recent failings and said, "nay sir, only one who aspires to such a calling."

The messenger nodded thoughtfully, "it will do. I have a message that must reach my master, the Lord Arvin in Teradok, the safety and security of his life, lands, and people may well depend upon it but alas my horse is spent and I am wounded. Can I ask that you carry this message to him though it risks your life? The men who wounded me will not stop until they have the message or are themselves destroyed."

Kenin gaped but said, "I am but a boy, but I will do this thing if it is as important as you say, even if it cost me my life."

The courier nodded, "then you had best get going for my enemies will not be long in pursuit. I will hold them here but they will not be delayed long. May the Master ride with you, that is your preferred farewell is it not? I also beg all here to flee the inn lest they become entangled in such schemes!" At his words, a general tumult arose among the rest of the inn patrons and they were not long in fleeing the scene, all save Kenin's friends who stood with wide eyes and open mouths.

Finally Tell said, "I shall accompany you. At last a real adventure, and if we are successful I am sure we will have made our fortunes!"

Wilim grinned, "Astoria has grown dull of late and I cannot have the two of you having adventures without me." The messenger handed over the precious missive and hastened them on.

They ran to the stable where their mounts were waiting, still saddled, and flew into their saddles and bolted into the night leaving the stable boy to gape in wonder at their hasty departure. The messenger was right, he held out as long as he could but he only bought the boys a few moments though he paid for it with his life, but the sudden departure of all the inn patrons confused the pursuers and forced them to split up and discover who now carried the message that would spell the end of all their master's careful planning if it ever reached its destination. The boys rode hard and all through the night. As the sun peaked over the hills, their horses were near collapse and could go no further. An inn appeared out of the trees ahead and the boys rode gratefully into the stable where the groom quickly set to work on their horses saying, "poor beasts will go no farther, at least not in the next day or so!"

Kenin asked, "are there no horses here we can borrow to continue our journey? We are on a dire mission and cannot stop long ere our foes fall upon us and many will come to grief for our failure to reach our destination!"

The groom shrugged, "there are several fine beasts belonging to various guests that are saddled and waiting for their masters but it is not for me to say if any will part with the animals." The sound of a sword being drawn forth silenced the groom and all eyes focused on a tall man who had just entered the stable. He laughed at the three pathetic boys whom he had chased all night as the groom quietly disappeared, not wishing to be caught in such a quarrel.

The man said, "give me the letter and you need not die."

Kenin's knees quaked but he was not about to abandon his mission, though he wondered how he could be a match to such a seemingly skilled warrior. Before he knew what he was doing, he had his sword in his hands and was tangled in a fight with the intruder. Tell and Wilim stared in amazement for a second but then came to their senses and grabbed three of the aforementioned, already saddled horses. Kenin struck a blow on the man's left temple and his foe collapsed with a cry of anguish. He nearly dropped his sword in surprise, for he had never drawn blood in a fight before, but he wasted no more time in wonder and horror as he leapt into the waiting saddle and took the reins from the frenzied Tell. They vanished from the stable yard in a cloud of dust.

Once they had put some distance betwixt themselves and the inn and their hearts had slowed to a more sensible pace, Kenin gasped, "is it right to steal these horses?"

Tell said, "would you rather have that man cut you to pieces or fail in our mission? Once all is finished, I am sure this Lord Arvin will make everything right with those so injured."

Kenin sighed but could only nod at the sense of his friend's words though he regretted the necessity of such an infraction on top of the remorse for his night out, this was truly becoming a regrettable experience. They galloped on and as the shades of evening drew together, they collapsed in a exhausted heap in a well hidden dell to pass the night and rest their stolen mounts.

Morning found them stiff and miserable, but their horses seemed somewhat refreshed and they took again to their insane road. Around noon, their horses again nearing exhaustion, an arrow whizzed past Kenin's ear and reminded them that they were still closely pursued, but a market town appeared ahead of them and they pushed their horses to their limit. Upon entering the town, they were accosted by a patrol of the local guardsmen that were just mounting up. The frantic youths quickly explained the situation and the soldiers wore a grim look. Their captain said, "bandits and outlaws you say? Take three of our horses and continue your quest; we will deal with your pursuers if we can catch them."

Kenin smiled in relief, "thank you!"

They were quickly in the saddles of three of the fresh horses and were once again hard upon the road. The guardsmen must have at least slowed down their pursuers or at least made them more cautious, or perhaps their own horses were growing weary, for the next three days there was no sign of pursuit and the boys did not need to press their own mounts to exhaustion.

The morning they planned on riding triumphantly into Lord Arvin's domain brought a new challenge before them. Their foes were no longer content with ambush and pursuit, instead they waited openly upon the road for the boys to come to them. There were six men and upon sighting the boys, they wasted no time in rushing upon them en masse. All would have been lost had not six of the King's soldiers happened upon the melee. They were astonished that three such youths could hold their own against so many foes but it was obvious such resistance could not last long. The boys were trained in Astoria, but even with the best training they were no match for so many experienced foes. The guards rode in and suddenly the battle was over. Two of the enemy combatants had fallen, Wilim had a wounded shoulder, and the rest surrendered. Kenin quickly explained their predicament and the captain told off two of his men to accompany the uninjured boys to Lord Arvin while the rest of the company would proceed to the King with the wounded boy and the prisoners. The grateful boys thanked him profusely and the captain said, "it is to you that thanks are owed for risking so much to maintain the peace of the realm!" They each rode off in their respective directions with no further incidents occurring to either party upon the way.

The Lord Arvin was astonished at the tale the two boys told and very grateful when the contents of the letter were revealed. It seemed he had an older brother who had been banished some years ago for certain rebellious acts against their late father, thus denying him the Lordship in his turn. It seemed this exiled lord had a son whom he wished to woo and marry Arvin's only daughter and heir, thus assuring that the lordship returned to its rightful descent. A man faithful to Arvin had been in the service of the exiled brother for many years but had left immediately with word of the scheme when it became known to him. The man's flight had been discovered and pursuit was quickly made and he was overtaken in Waymeet but gladly his quest had not failed and his Lord was warned and the daughter saved. As the man was reading and rereading his letter and talking to himself quite exuberantly, Tell was watching a beautiful young lady wander about in the gardens outside the window. Kenin watched his host, patiently wondering what to do next. Did he return to Astoria and face the disgrace awaiting there or beg service in Lord Arvin's guard that he might escape his shame and at least have a respectable future?

Lord Arvin finally contented himself with his brother's plots and attended to his valiant guests, "now what can I do to reward such fine service?"

Kenin said, "I ask only sir, that you make reparations to those injured in the course of our flight and that perhaps you will write a letter to the Lady of Astoria explaining our late adventure that she not take our absence amiss."

Said the astonished Lord, "is that all you would ask of me? I would give you half my domain were it in my power!"

Tell sighed distractedly, still watching the girl with a faint smile on his face, "Kenin may be content with a letter but I would be most grateful for an introduction to the young lady yonder."

Arvin smiled, "that at least I can arrange young man, and it is the least I can do for so bold a youth. My daughter would be pleased to meet such a hero!"

Kenin smiled in spite of himself, "are you not returning to Astoria?"

Tell smiled, "I fear not. Astoria has lost all its attraction but Teradok has become quite interesting. I shall find something useful to do here. Farewell my friend, we have shared much in the last few years and more in the last few days! If ever you have need of me, all you need do is ask."

Kenin bid a tearful farewell to his friend and received a grateful goodbye from the Lord Arvin and said upon parting, "I will ride to the castle and see how Wilim fares and if you change your mind, I shall await you there ere I return home to beg the Lady's pardon."

Tell smiled and waved enthusiastically and Lord Arvin said to the boy once Kenin was out of sight, "certainly a strange lad, but more honorable than most men I think." Tell grinned, for he could not agree more.

Wilim was excited to see Kenin and enthusiastically listened to his recital of events since their parting; he then imparted his own news. The King was so impressed by his bravery that he had been offered a lieutenancy in the King's Guard and he had already accepted. Moreover, Wilim was quite determined to introduce his friend to the King, but Kenin said, "alas but I must return alone to Astoria. Perhaps after all is done there, I shall return and beg such a favor but duty bids me to explain myself to the Lady and cast myself upon her mercy."

Wilim laughed, "the Brethren do not deserve so honorable a heart, but then again only such souls are crazy enough to do as you are planning. You have been thoroughly corrupted my friend. I will miss you but ever am I at your service though a century sunder us!"

They bid one another farewell and Kenin set out upon the lonely road home. The journey back seemed to take forever as there was no longer anyone pursuing him, he did not ride at a horse killing pace, he had no merry companions upon the journey thither, and the dread of facing the Lady weighed heavy upon him but he could not rest easy until he had faced her, regardless of the outcome. A patrol overtook the weary boy on the borders of Astoria and two of their number escorted the bedraggled boy back to the city. He felt a prisoner already condemned with such an escort but he did not feel it unjustified as they had fled the city without explanation and had taken with them three horses belonging to the Brethren. Kenin especially had caused something of a scandal in having already been given permission to take his Oath.

His escorts said nothing but each wore a neutral expression, now and again betraying a hint of disappointment which Kenin felt more acutely than if they had been furious or violent. Finally, the little company arrived in the courtyard and the appearance of the truant boy caused a bit of a stir amongst those who knew the tale. A servant was quickly sent to the Lady and just as swiftly returned to say that the boy would be seen as soon as the Lady's schedule permitted. He was escorted to a little room not far from the Lady's audience chamber and there he stood for some hours with his grim escort until at last the Lady summoned him. She said nothing as the boy entered, made his bows, and stood dejectedly before her. Her eyes held a dreadful combination of shock, anger, and disappointment, which Kenin could not meet and fell to his knees sobbing. Such a reaction softened that gaze which could make sitting monarchs tremble as she said quietly, "well?"

After what seemed a century the boy said in a choked whisper, "I have greatly disappointed you Lady. Not only you but the Master and all for which he stands and all those who have so patiently taught me and encouraged me over the years. I was a fool to sneak off as I did and I regret it bitterly. Though some good came of it, the price was great. I am sorry though I do not know the words to convey the depths of my grief and the horror I feel at my own rebellion!"

She said quietly, "you had best tell the full tale and what has become of your friends?" The tears sprung anew as he told the story and at last when he had finished, she smiled weakly, "it seems the Master can even find a use for disobedience. It took much courage for you to return after such a scandal, especially when your friends found such an agreeable reception in Teradok. As your repentance and anguish of heart is also real, I have no fear about such incidents in the future. But what is that future to be?"

The boy looked at her then and said, "be it unto me as you will Lady. I once aspired to join the Brethren but after such a betrayal I do not think it possible that you would take me back."

She smiled then and said, "actually I will gladly accept you back, but know in future that you must try to resist such temptation!"

He gaped and tears of joy came to his eyes as he said, "Lady, the price is too dear for me to repeat such an offense. I am yours if you will have me!"

She smiled deeply and said, "welcome home child."

Twenty years passed and Kenin found himself again on a journey to Teradok, but this time he traveled with a clear conscience and the hope of seeing his friends once more. He smiled to himself for things had certainly changed in the intervening years. Kenin was the Lady's new Advisor to the King of Teradok, Tell had married the Lord Arvin's beautiful daughter and upon his father-in-law's death became Lord in his place, and Wilim was now the King's greatest General. The three old friends would be reunited at Tell's estates, to which Kenin greatly looked forward. He also wondered what information they might have about the disappearance of the Lady's former Advisor to the King of Teradok whom Kenin was replacing, as the man had not been seen in over a month and no one knew what had become of him. Kenin's musings were cut short as he rode into the stable yard of Tell's great house and gave his mount over to the eager servants. He was then led into the presence of his old friend by yet another excited serving man. Anyone who put their master in this good of a mood was to be greatly welcomed! Kenin entered the dining hall where the General and the young Lord had been quietly conversing; they stood upon seeing the new arrival and for a moment all studied each other to see what changes twenty years had wrought.

Tell spoke abruptly to the servant and said, "leave us please as we have things to discuss privately." The man bowed and vanished from the room, leaving the three old comrades alone. Tell approached his old friend, smiled, and embracing him said, "you have not aged all that much! Perhaps I should have joined the Brethren, if only to keep some semblance of youth."

Kenin laughed and said, "it seems you are doing quite well in your own right. I have missed you both."

Wilim grinned like a delighted boy, "it is just like old times! Ah, the memories you bring back. Come, seat yourself and let us discuss old times and new adventures."

Kenin smiled and took a seat across from the two men and began, "as I wrote, I am to replace the Lady's vanished Advisor to the King. Know you anything about it?"

Tell said quietly, "actually this very matter is exactly what we wish to speak of."

Wilim groused, "I had hoped for a little time of reminiscing first but perhaps there shall be time enough later. We are still friends?"

Kenin nodded, "my devotion is unchanged."

Tell smiled, "excellent, for we are about to propose a new adventure in which we need your aid. We once accomplished great things and now we have the opportunity to accomplish even more. What if I were to propose that you could be the Advisor not only to a King but also to one of your dearest friends?"

Kenin frowned slightly, "and how is that to be accomplished?"

Tell continued, "the King is an old man, sick and frail, he has but one child and should anything happen to him, Teradokian law states that the most powerful Lord in the realm would be next in line for the throne. I am that man. All that stands before me is the Prince!"

Kenin's frown deepened, "you are asking me to help you murder the Prince and betray the King?"

Wilim grinned, "is that not what friends are for? Come Kenin, you have toiled in obscurity long enough. It is time to enjoy the rewards of your valiant labors rather than risk your life in vain."

Kenin shook his head vehemently, "you cannot be serious! I could never act in such a manner. Long ago you convinced me to do something much less dreadful and my heart smote me sorely, and now you ask me to do far worse!"

Tell said a bit sadly, "then I am afraid this time it will not be your heart that smites you. I had hoped for the sake of old friendships that you would see things our way, but alas your noble heart has just gotten you killed."

Kenin reached for his sword and had half risen from his seat when he felt a sharp pain in his back and crumpled to the floor in agony. He stared up in horror at a man with no left eye and a dreadful scar across his temple. The man laughed, "so you recognize me do you boy? I have waited many long years to have revenge for my eye."

Kenin gasped through the pain in his chest where the man's sword had run him through, "you are plotting with our old foe to overthrow the King?"

The man smirked, "actually I am taking back my father's rightful place as Lord of this domain once your friend here becomes King. Now everybody will be happy, except you. You will just be dead."

Darkness gnawed at the edges of Kenin's vision as he gasped, "I thought we were friends."

Wilim said grimly, "so did I. But I guess we were wrong."

Kenin lapsed into darkness and did not reply. Tell sent the one eyed man out to fetch certain servants awaiting just such an occurrence. They returned swiftly, searched the body and removed all valuable or useful items, and drug the prone form out into the night. Kenin's saddlebags were also searched and the desired items were collected by the cyclops for future use. The unicorn had felt his master's distress and once free of his stall, had disappeared into the night. Tell shook his head at the servants' recitation of the event, grateful that the beast's late master had been a Philosopher and not a Messenger or Warrior, for then the brute would likely have come looking for revenge or at least would have done worse damage to the stables in his despair at his master's demise. The three men then returned to their plotting as if they had not just committed murder, the victim of which was a friend almost dearer than a brother to two of them.

Kenin was very near death when they came to drag him away, so near in fact that no one cared to postpone his burial until it was a certainty. They carried him quietly out into the night and dropped the future corpse unceremoniously into a roughly dug grave in what was called the Robber's Graveyard, where those executed for their crimes by the state were interred. No one would remark a great lord's men burying another corpse in such unhallowed ground. Each man had shoveled a bit of dirt into the hole when the horses began to dance and whinny in fear before screaming in terror, breaking loose, and fleeing into the night. The confused men swiftly gave chase, hoping to catch their frantic beasts and also desperate to avoid whatever could cause the animals to panic at such a place and time.

The beasts and their masters gone, Kenin's unicorn pranced out of the dark and knelt by the hole. He whickered miserably, sensing his quickly failing master in the pit below. The great hearted beast then did that for which his race was renowned and touched the tip of his horn to his dying master and took the wounds upon himself. Kenin started awake only to catch one fleeting glimpse of the noble creature that had spared his life at the cost of his own before he vanished upon death. Tears ran unabated down Kenin's cheeks but he knew he had no time for grief. He crawled from the grave and hid himself in the shrubbery nearby, only just in time as the gravediggers had returned after failing to catch their mounts and breaking their only lantern in the process.

They could not see into the bottom of the pit but had no reason to doubt that its occupant still remained within. They finished their task, grumbling about the darkness and foolish beasts, and then began the long walk home. Kenin stood once he was alone and made his way along the road towards the capital city, knowing he must speak to the King, all the while mourning for his lost friend who had been willing to give life at the cost of his own and also grieving the betrayal of those he had once thought his friends. His feet ached and bled as his boots had been taken from him, as had anything else of value or use. He was covered in grime, blood, and tears streaked his face. Kenin smiled grimly, thinking himself quite a sight to be demanding an audience with the King. He wore plain clothes, which were now bloodied and filthy after recent events, his uniform having been stashed in his saddlebags for travel, along with his letter from the Lady to the King. It would take a miracle for anyone to believe him, let alone the King. In the small hours of the morning he finally entered the capital city and the city guard was not long in accosting such a scandalous looking creature wandering the streets at such an hour.

"Ho there beggar!" said the captain of the patrol, "what business have you here? I suggest you move along and leave town else I may have to detain you." Kenin wore such a look of grief and urgency that the captain was hard pressed to say even that much, for here was a man who was either mad or had recently suffered greatly. He then marked the blood on the man's clothes and asked, "are you some victim of robbers or perhaps a murderer yourself? Speak man!"

Tears came again to the man's eyes as he said, "it is a fell night for betrayal and murder my lord! There are plots in the night. Haste to the King, to him alone I must speak. His life and that of his son depend upon it!"

Said the captain taken aback, "it is an audacious man who makes such a request in such condition at such an hour. You are either mad or in earnest and I dare not deny you if it is the latter, I will make the request of the King but know that it is your head if you lie or he does not believe you."

"It shall be as it must," said Kenin with such a mixture of grief and determination that even the hardest heart among the gathered Guards was touched. The captain motioned and one of the soldiers took the man up before him in the saddle and they swiftly escorted him to the dungeons, there to await the King or his commands.

The captain went immediately to seek after one of the King's upper servants but found the man himself in the pantry looking for a late snack or an early breakfast. The man bowed and said, "Majesty I have an apparition that demands an audience with your Highness."

The King growled, "what sensible request can be made at such an hour?"

The captain said, "he is a curious case Sire and speaks with such earnestness that I dare not keep it from your Grace, especially when he speaks of threats against you and yours, betrayal, and murder in the night!"

The King said thoughtfully, "he knows if I am unhappy the consequences are dire?"

The soldier nodded, "and still he demands an audience."

The King smiled grimly, "well then let us to him for I greatly desire some form of intrigue, be it an execution or a true plot, one or the other is sure to cure my boredom and thus my insomnia." The soldier nodded and escorted the King to the chamber where prisoners were interrogated in one way or another. The King gaped upon sighting the man, "you listen to a man dressed like that? He must certainly be a robber or a madman."

Kenin bowed and said, "I am neither Majesty. In fact I am your new Advisor from the Lady of Astoria."

The King could not help but laughing, "and I am the Queen of Vitria. Can you prove such an assertion?"

At this the tears welled once more in those eyes and Kenin said, "nay Majesty I cannot. I have been deprived of all those things that might prove my identity to your Highness. Another of the Brethren could ascertain my identity but I fear there are none here to do so."

The King nodded, "you had best proceed with your tale then but know I am very much prone to doubt you."

Kenin said, "your greatest Lord and General plot against you Sire and demanded my help in their scheme. Upon my refusal, they thought to make an end of me and left me for dead and as such you see me now."

The King growled, "the two of whom you speak are considered heroes in the eyes of many in the Kingdom. Know you not what they did in their youth?"

Kenin nodded grimly, "I know very well what they accomplished twenty years ago as I was the third person in their party that succeeded in so strange a mission. I called them friends until this very night when they tried to have me murdered by the very man who plotted against Lord Arvin so many years ago and who now plots alongside them to your ruin." He then proceeded to tell of all his adventures both past and present as related to his friends and the King.

The King was aghast, "if what you say is true then these are grim tidings indeed, for these men I count as the most faithful in my Kingdom! Whom am I to believe? A filthy wanderer or these men of honor and long acquaintance? In the morning I shall summon them and before the entire city, your fate and theirs shall be decided. Have you no proof of what you say?"

Kenin shook his head, "nay lord, save that perhaps there is a fresh dug grave in the Robber's Graveyard wherein there is no corpse."

"We shall see what the morning brings," said the King thoughtfully as he turned and left Kenin to himself.

The King sent men to dig up the aforementioned grave and also messengers to all his great lords and advisors. By the time the sun was up, the city was abuzz with rumors of the strange proceedings to commence very shortly in the town square. Lord Tell, General Wilim, and a one-eyed man in the uniform of the Brethren presented themselves before the King as requested, along with most of the townsfolk and anyone of importance in the castle, court, and surrounding countryside. Once all were assembled, the filthy and grief-weary Kenin was brought forth. The crowd gasped at such a strange figure in their midst; the three plotters gasped to see him alive.

Said the King once the surprise had subsided into a quiet murmur, "this curious fellow was found wandering the streets last night and claims terrible things about you my Lord Tell, General Wilim, and your unnamed guest."

Tell spoke up quite at ease with the situation and seemed grieved by the King's discomfiture saying, "Majesty, I am sorry this fellow troubles you. He came to me last night and demanded help in his plots against Teradok. I am ashamed to say he is the son of the man who tried twenty years ago to cause so much trouble in your peaceful realm. He said he would say the most horrendous things about my family if I did not aid his crazy scheme. We of course turned him out, but as his appearance attests, he would not leave without a struggle. He grievously injured three of my servants before he was overcome and dismissed. I hoped he would disappear quietly in shame but it seems he has tried to win his way into your graces by lying about me and mine."

"Is this true?" gasped the King of the one-eyed faux Brother.

Smiled the man, "it is certainly true Majesty. It was his father that took my eye during that adventure which made the Lord Tell and your beloved General quite famous twenty years gone. After my part in it, I withdrew to Astoria and have returned now as your new Advisor from the Lady. Here is her letter to you." He presented the stolen letter to the King who read eagerly and smiled to see that his prisoner was truly a scoundrel and his most trusted servants were yet faithful.

"What have you to say for yourself then?" asked the King of Kenin, "your tale was quite ingenious but it seems these men can contradict your falsehood quite easily. You even went so far as to dig a false grave to corroborate your story! I am impressed, but if you cannot exonerate yourself, you will soon be inhabiting that grave in truth."

Kenin sighed, "I am the third of that infamous party, the one eyed man is the villain and it was I that took his eye! That letter and his uniform were stolen from me last night."

The General growled, "look at the villain, he is no older than twenty! He could not have yet been born when that adventure took place. I and Tell both know he was not on that quest with us."

Kenin said, "yet here is proof! I am of the Brethren, for we do not age as quickly as other men."

The King sighed, "that may or may not be the case. Have you no other proof?"

Kenin said, "have this man present his unicorn to prove himself."

The one eyed man smiled, "ask Majesty and I shall beg the noble creature to reveal himself but it is a great insult to his kind."

The King sighed, "I will not try your patience nor that of your beast. I need hear no more of his lies. Fetch the headsman!"

There was a general uproar of approval from the onlookers but to Kenin's surprise, the one eyed man said, "Sire must it be so? Does this poor, misguided soul truly deserve death?"

Said the King, "your pity alone is proof enough of your allegiance. But yes it must be so, if only to prevent further plots in the future. Besides, he agreed himself that this would happen if I did not believe him."

The one-eyed man bowed his head in seeming resignation and said, "justice must be done Majesty."

The executioner arrived and preparations were made for the day's entertainment. All were quite impressed and a bit dismayed at how nobly the wretched man met his end without a word of regret or outburst of fear. If he was such a scoundrel, one would think he would make a scene at the last. But the ax fell and that was the end of the matter. This time, the three conspirators were quite sure the man would remain securely in his grave. The body would certainly not stir again but that did not mean they were yet finished with such a stubborn foe.

Kenin found himself on one knee in what was best described as a mist but it was of such wonderful colors and substance that no mortal words exist to describe it. But it was not his surreal surroundings that occupied his attention, it was the Great Unicorn before him that was the source of all things and with a thought could create or destroy an entire universe. Before such a Presence even the greatest of men must cower, and Kenin was terrified or would have been if a great sense of peace and joy had not enveloped him. He felt himself a failure in his mission, but the Master said gently, "come child, weep not, for you have done all that which I have asked. There are a few more things to be done and then you shall cease from mortal strivings and enter the peace of my country."

For a moment Kenin raised his eyes to those of his Maker and felt himself the happiest man who ever lived simply for having looked into those joyous depths but for a moment. And then the mist consumed him, the Master vanished, and he found himself standing amidst a great wood. This was no wood in the waking world but a phantasm of a sleeping mind, the dreamer suddenly came upon the intruder astride a great horse following a pack of hounds. The rider glimpsed the man in his path and suddenly horse and dogs vanished and they stood face to face. Tell gasped, "how is it a fair dream suddenly becomes a nightmare? How many times must a man be buried ere he remains forever in the dust?"

Kenin shook his head sadly, "never more shall I trouble your waking but one last warning is sent you."

Tell scoffed, "warning? From whom? We are even more endeared to the King than ever before thanks to your little stunt though we must wait a few months until suspicion is completely gone ere we act."

Kenin said quietly, "you will be found out, one way or another. Take heed lest you lose your soul with your life. The Master asks once more if you will seek him."

Tell grinned, "I need neither you nor your Master. The dead do not carry tales to the living so I have little to fear from you." Kenin shook his head sadly and suddenly vanished and Tell's dream continued on as if it had never been interrupted. Neither was Wilim excited to see such a ghost. He too scoffed at the warning and Kenin then found himself in a place he was loath to be, but which the Master deemed necessary. The dead could not carry tales to the living, but the living had no such restrictions.

"Kenin?" gasped the Lady as she recognized the man who had invaded her dream, "I do not usually dream of my servants, but I feel this is no ordinary dream."

"Nay Lady," said he, "for I bring a message from the Master himself. These are grim times in Teradok and the King refuses to believe it. A traitor has taken my place at his side as the Advisor from Astoria and my two old friends plot murder with this usurper. I was executed as a traitor to the Crown. You must write to the King and tell him of the scoundrels in his midst. He would not believe me but perhaps he will believe you ere it is too late." He was suddenly gone and the Lady started awake. A tear escaped one eye as she called for her servant.

The King received the letter, delivered personally by one of the Lady's most trusted Messengers. The man easily proved his identity as one of the Brethren and when the one-eyed imposter was pressed to do the same, he was revealed for what he was. The Lord Tell and General Wilim told all once their scheme was revealed. The King was aghast that he had killed an innocent man who had twice risked everything for Teradok. Said the King to his new Advisor from Astoria once all was accomplished, "it seems a pity your Brother lies buried among such ignominious companions. Why the very friends who plotted his ruin and mine lie right alongside him. Should his remains not be moved to more hallowed ground? Or a monument be raised in his memory?"

Said the Brother sadly, "have the story written out in full and left as a memorial that such things not happen again, but Kenin requires no mortal glory for such things matter not to those who dwell forever in the midst of the Master's undying glory. Leave his bones alone, for they are the least part of him."

Many Sorrows Borne

Swords clashed about them in the night and the screams of men, triumphant or a final despair, rushed to deaf ears for the embattled pair had no focus but their own deadly dance. One by one, the sounds of conflict died away until only this last skirmish remained. The survivors watched, stunned at the skill of both swordsmen, but finally it was over. The large man, clad all in dark brown and gray, struck a blow upon his opponent's sword hand and the defensive blade went flying. The man in brown laughed in anticipation, drew back his blade, and made ready to strike the fatal blow. Then the world froze, as if that one moment were all of eternity. The two men studied each other curiously in this strange and unending moment. There was no fear in the eyes of the man about to be pierced through, only a strange sort of pity. The moon was up and there was light enough almost to see clearly but it seemed all about them turned to black and even the moon seemed hidden beneath a sudden cloud. All for a moment was dark and when they could see once more, so could they also move and speak.

Price, the astonished man in brown, grunted in dismay, "where is my sword?"

Cass, the man awaiting his doom looked about curiously and said, "where is everyone and everything?"

Price shivered, "this is no natural night." Cass nodded his agreement but did not seem afraid. Price turned on him in anger, "why are you never afraid? You are afraid neither to die nor to find yourself in this strange ethereal nothingness!"

Cass smiled, "what have I to fear? I know Whom I believe."

Price sat down with a great sigh, "I should have known! Of all the annoying people to find myself trapped in a limbo with, it must be one of the Brethren!"

Cass laughed, "and what is so wrong with that?"

Price snarled, "you go around preaching to everyone, regardless of whether they wish to hear you or not, that we had all best be good little children or the Master's wrath will come upon us! You think yourselves better than everyone else and cannot fathom that most people would rather just get on with their own lives as they wish them to be. You have no idea what it is to suffer and bear the sorrows of a common man, trapped as you are in your happy little mythology or perhaps if your Master does exist he must keep you from any hurt and harm." Cass held up his sword hand and studied it quietly, the last two fingers were missing where Price's blade had struck. Price growled, "well perhaps you know what physical pain is, but have you ever known real pain? I could teach you a thing or two about living in the real world and the misery that comes with it. If your Master is so good and loving and powerful, then why are men allowed to suffer?"

Suddenly all was dark again and Cass felt himself drawn to sit beside his erstwhile companion upon the log he had taken as his own. The pair might be miles apart in ideology but in that unnatural night, they were drawn together by the need for another, any, human presence. A light came again, or perhaps a lessening of the darkness but only on one side, before the stunned pair, all else was utterly dark. "What is going on," whispered Price.

Cass said quietly, "I think you just might get your chance to show me all your sorrows but first I fear you must see my own."

Price snorted, "at least it will be a short tale. What can you know of such things?" And then they were silent, as before them the ethereal light resolved itself into a picture but unlike the paintings and drawings with which they might be familiar, this picture moved. Price asked, "what is it?"

Cass said in awe, "memories. Memories of my early days. You have been granted your wish."

Price groused, "this is weird, wish or no, I want done with this!"

Cass said, "I am afraid the only way to end it is to go through it."

Price sighed, "well get on with it then."

Cass began to speak, as if he were speaking from a well rehearsed script. As he did so, memories flashed before them. Price watched and listened in wonder, musing to himself what his own turn would be like. The story before them went something like this...

A little boy of ten was holding the hand of a girl perhaps two years older. Two taller children could be seen as shadows off to the side; all were raggedly garbed and they stood in a shabby room around a withered woman upon her deathbed. Cass began, "my mother died when I was ten. We never knew our father but there was a man living with us for as long as I can remember. After my mother died, he stayed on out of habit or necessity, perhaps both but certainly not out of compassion or fondness for us. My two oldest siblings ran away from home within the first year after my mother's death leaving only myself and my sister at home. The man never did anything to support our strange little family and left it to us to fend for ourselves, though he demanded a portion of our scant income for himself that he might pass the time more pleasantly in the local ale house. My sister kept house and earned what she could with her hands. I was ever out looking for any sort of work, and when that failed I was forced to beg and even on occasion steal, for if ever I came home with too little, the man was sure to be outraged and would beat us severely. So it was that two years passed in this way when I was out upon a market day and having failed to find an honest means of making my day's income, I was reaching for some small trinket upon a merchant's table when I felt my hand grasped by one much larger and stronger. I tensed in fear but knew I was caught and there was no use in resisting.

I looked up into the eyes of a tall man; they were stern but beneath was humor and joy. He asked me no questions but said quietly, "you must not steal lad. It is a bad habit and only leads to worse. It is a harsh world but better to starve than to steal." He tossed me a silver coin and suddenly vanished into the crowds. I stared at the coin in wonder, it would feed us for two weeks! His strange words touched my mind, but more his kindness touched my heart. He was well within his rights to call the guard and have me arrested but instead he had pity upon me in my plight. It was the first kindness I had known since my mother died, save those small attentions my dear sister was wont to give.

Another two years passed and my sister had grown into an attractive, though shabbily clad young woman. She confronted the man one day, feeling it her duty to inform him that she wished to marry. Seeing his tenuous existence threatened, he flew into a rage and would have hurt her severely but I jumped between them and told her to run. With terror in her eyes, but knowing there to be no other choice she complied. Instead his wrath fell upon me. I do not remember much, save that it hurt terribly and then the blackness took me. I never saw the man again, perhaps he thought me dead and ran in fear or was perhaps ashamed of what he had done, but I do not know what came of him. My sister however was neither faithless nor faint of heart. When the man was gone, she came back for me and bore me to the house of her beloved.

Those were happy years. She married a blacksmith's apprentice and I lived with them, doing what I could to help out. But it was not to last for she died in childbirth. My brother-in-law was grieved to his core but he said I could stay on if I wished, but it was too painful for both of us so I withdrew and took again to the streets, but alas I had lost my boyish charm and few would give alms to a healthy young man. I was hungry and thought again of stealing, but the memory came of a man who once took pity on a small, hungry thief. I decided that starve if I must, I would not attain a living dishonestly. The memory intrigued me and I set out to discover who and what that man was. He wore a sword and a rather distinctive uniform. I discovered the identity of his brotherhood and set out myself for Astoria. How it was I arrived there alive I cannot say, but it was certainly a miracle! There I learned many things, but most of all I discovered the Master's love for wandering humanity. I had suffered, but he had suffered more, especially when he need never have known sorrow! I dedicated my life to the Brethren from thence onward. You might accuse the Brethren of knowing neither sorrow nor pain, but we know it as much as other men. We simply know that we are not alone in bearing it and that it will not last forever. One day it will be replaced forever by joy and not remembered after.

But as long as life lasts, sorrow is attendant unto it. As a Student, I met a remarkable young lady and not long after she became an Apprentice of the Brethren. I was not long in following suit and we agreed that after our apprenticeships were finished and once we had the Lady's blessing that we would be married. Ah, the undying hopes of youth! Two years passed and we each had our adventures in the wide world though more often sundered than not, but we had the future before us so the years passed swiftly. I was released from my apprenticeship and my beloved was due back at any time and then we might begin our lives together for she was already finished with her apprenticeship. Each morning for a month, I stood upon the battlements watching the distant road, but never did she ride back. Word finally came that she had fallen in the course of her duties and was forever lost to this world. I grieved, as all men do, but the Lady would not leave me alone to stew in my grief. She sent me out and gave me purpose and something to focus on besides my own shattered heart. With time came healing and also new relationships. I was by that time old and experienced enough to take on an apprentice of my own. He was a bright and lively boy and did much to ease the tedium and weariness of travel. I watched over him as some combination of friend and father and loved him as if he were my own son.

Two years passed and his own time of promotion was imminent, though I would miss him sorely I knew he would do well and was infinitely proud of him. But we had one last mission together. A great king was concerned for his daughter's wellbeing until she was safely married so he had asked the Lady for help. Our job was to keep the Princess safe and out of the hands of those that might benefit by her disappearance or demise. She slept in an inner chamber with no windows and only one door opening into a sitting room that had a single window three stories above an enclosed garden and with a single door into the adjacent hall. The boy was enamored with the Princess though I told him it could never be, yet in his heart he yearned for things he could not have. We had argued that night and I had sent him to bed, thus requiring me to stand watch at her door in his stead though I had spent the entire day guarding her while he had rested in anticipation of a night's watching. I leaned against her door in the sitting room and was nearly dozing with weariness when a noise in the garden below roused me. The noise came again and I recognized it as the sound of climbing feet upon the vine covered wall below the window. The trespasser's head soon appeared in the window, but he wore a dark mask so I knew him not. I heard his sword being drawn and the next moment he leapt upon me. My heart sank for I knew this man, if not by his face then certainly by his fighting style for we had sparred many times over the last two years, but he had never fought like this. This time either he or I must certainly die.

It was a mortal blow to the boy but no less to myself. Here was a lad I had loved like a son yet he had betrayed me. Had I done something wrong in his training? But no, each heart must choose what it will do and it was his choice alone that led to this dreadful end. It is the same with all the Master's children, they must choose to serve or deny him and in the end they must live with the consequences. The Princess was roused by our noise in the adjoining room and as soon as all was safe, the King decided that she would be wed without delay. And so my mission was ended but my grief was only begun. Again, with time and the Master's love, the wounds begin to heal but ever is sorrow a companion on this weary way called life." So did he finish and for a time the flashing picture grew still.

Price nodded, "I suppose you have suffered a few things in your life." He smiled in anticipation, much as he had done preparatory to striking down Cass before they had been interrupted. "Now it is my turn," continued he, "prepare yourself for true sorrow!" The picture flickered to life again and this time it showed a stout boy with a sour look on his face confronting a pair of angered parents. Began Price, "I grew up with stern and demanding parents. Nothing was ever good enough for them. They demanded that I obey them in everything and thought they knew better than everybody. Of course they did not and no one can be expected to be perfectly obedient.

In my frustration, I spent more time with a couple of older boys who knew what it was to have fun. They also showed me how freeing a bottle of ale can be after a rough day. We began pulling pranks and having fun all around the village and folk began to call us troublemakers and villains. Old Man Walters was especially vociferous and after one tirade to my parents, he very nearly got me kicked out of the house. Of course we had to retaliate so we set his barn on fire. That did not go over at all well with our elders and we dared not let ourselves be caught. We ran away from home and decided it was high time we learned to fend for ourselves. We wandered into a distant city and began to really enjoy life, but that sort of thing cannot last long without a means of income. So we began stealing, just like you, to maintain our lifestyle. Unlike you, when we were caught we did get into trouble. At first we were flogged but the next time they tossed us into the quarries. But the quarries, though miserable, did not kill us or cure us. They hardened us into true rebels and renegades and also allowed us to get to know others of a similar mindset. Finally, we were released and formed this little band of thieves to prey upon whom we will. You have had a few set backs in life, but my entire life has been one of trouble and misery and you dare tell me you know sorrow?"

Cass replied, "it seems to me that most of your trouble you brought upon yourself, first by disobeying your parents and then the law."

Price smiled grimly, "but who is it of the two of us that has enjoyed life the more? You have nothing but a string of dead acquaintances and are forbidden all the little pleasures in life."

Cass said, "I have had my share of small joys, though you might not consider them such. I would think carefully if what you consider to be 'pleasure' is truly worth the price you pay to obtain it and if it actually brings you joy. All the joys of this life are marred by sorrow, true and abiding joy waits until this life and its sorrows are through."

Price groused, "an end which I was planning to give you."

Cass said quietly, "I would carefully consider your own life. This vision or whatever it is, is not sent for our amusement but as a warning that you need to look after your own soul lest the sorrows of this life seem a veritable joy compared to what comes afterward to those unfaithful to the Master."

Price stood in anger, "I do not need any of your pontifications. If only I had a sword!"

Suddenly the world was back as it had been; the unending moment resumed and at last it found its end. Price towered over Cass with blade drawn, his cronies were urging him on, and a look of grim resignation was in Cass' eyes. He shook his head sadly and then fell with the inevitable stroke of Price's sword. Price smiled down derisively at the prone form with glazing eyes and said, "and what has your sorrow gained you?" He laughed and began cleaning his sword. With their foes dead, the rest of the bandits began ransacking the merchant train they had raided and then moved off to find somewhere to sleep for the night.

Price lay dozing at his post, though he was supposed to be on watch but the ordeal with the dead Brother had tried him more than he knew. He was not surprised when the ghost came to him in a dream. "And now the encore," scoffed the sleeping bandit.

Cass nodded, "you knew I would come?"

The bandit laughed, "you think we could share that weird experience and have it end simply with you dying? Come, was it worth it?" Cass cocked his head in question and the bandit snarled, "all your prattling about joy ever afterward fool! Is the joy worth the pain?"

Cass smiled in wonder, "all the sorrows that the world holds cannot begin to compare with the least of the joys that are to come. It is more than worth it! To have suffered tenfold more, it would still be worth it."

Price smiled, "then I suppose my own reward will be great, considering all that I have suffered?"

Cass shook his head, "it is not a matter of how much one suffers or prospers in this life. It is what we choose to do with the Master. Reject him and all your sorrows and hard work are futile, meaningless! It is cast into the pit of Nothingness with your blighted soul and all is vain! Your life can only mean something if given fully into the Master's keeping and used to his glory."

Price sighed, "you came back from the grave to tell me that?"

Cass nodded, "the Master would have none lost and for some reason has gone to great extremes to reach out to your hard heart."

Price smiled, "I am flattered but I am afraid I like my debauchery far too much. We might have been friends I think, a pity you never made it to the quarries."

Cass smiled sadly, "a pity for you perhaps but a mercy to me. We might have been friends but now I fear we are sundered for all eternity."

He vanished and Price wakened with a start. There was shouting and the sound of clashing steel and hooves in the night. The camp was under attack! He drew his sword and leapt into the fray. The merchant caravan had been a decoy to draw this band of thieves out of hiding that the local militia might make an end of it but alas the thieves had struck before the soldiers were ready, but no longer did they hold back justice. Price lay dying while the rest of his dismal little band met a similar fate. He thought over his pathetic life and wondered what the point of it was. The blackness gnawed at the edges of his vision and then loomed up and consumed him utterly. Finally clarity came and an answer with it. It was all vain, all of it, as vain and empty as the eternal, starless night that now consumed him. The fool Brother had been right but still Price would not change his mind, even if he could have.

### Meant For Evil

It was a time of severity and famine throughout the world. While hunger spurred war and rebellion throughout the lands of men, the Akoni, the shape-shifting raptors of the far northern plains, did their best but even they went hungry more often than not. The most severely affected were the young ones and the most wretched of these was the youngest of a pair of hatchlings belonging to a particular couple. Usually only a single egg was laid but rarely two were produced. Under usual circumstances this second hatchling struggled but usually survived. During these years of want, the youngest undoubtedly perished for only the strong survived in their proud world. Both chicks were hungry, and it was obvious the youngest was in trouble. His mother spoke quietly with his father one day, thinking themselves unheard but the eldest chick was listening to their hushed quarrel. Said she, "I cannot abide the thought of abandoning the poor little thing to die alone. Let us all go hungry together."

Said he, "would you rather watch both your sons die of hunger?"

The elder chick shuddered at this thought, knowing his parents unlikely to decide against his brother thereby dooming them both; he decided to take matters into his own hands. He knew himself the strongest and he had also matured to the point that he could now change forms at will. He could not yet fly, but that would come next. His brother was completely helpless being unable to fly or change forms as of yet. And if he had any say in the matter he would never reach that stage. While his parents continued their debate he went in search of his brother.

He found the pathetic creature curled up in the shadow of a small rock trying to escape the searing heat of the summer sun. The elder took on the form of a man in his prime and grabbed hold of his young brother about the neck and throttled him. He tossed aside the crumpled form without a thought and went in search of his parents. In mock alarm he rushed in upon their deliberations to say his brother was dead. They rushed to the scene of the crime and looked upon their unmoving offspring in astonishment. His mother was inconsolable but his father's eye held a thoughtful light. He smiled slightly at his ruthless son who glowed with his sire's approval of the deed. The family quickly moved on from that sad place, leaving the forgotten chick alone upon the plain.

They had not been gone an hour when a new intruder made itself known in that place. A small party of men, making their way north stumbled upon the spot and one picked up the motionless bird. He gasped, "this is it! What we came all this way to find. Look! A snow falcon!" The others gathered round and looked at the wretched little thing.

One said unhopefully, "I think it is dead."

The finder smiled widely, "no, look! He is breathing." They eagerly claimed the abandoned little creature and gladly turned southward again. They had come hunting such a creature as it was sure to make them rich men, but it was considered insane to venture forth on such a quest for few ever returned. But the chaos further south had made the journey north not seem so mad, yet here at the end of their quest they decided they had had enough. Their pack animals were dropping in hunger and exhaustion, while they themselves were in little better shape. But at least they had found what they sought without encountering worse, which surely lurked farther north.

The little bird soon roused from his comatose state and though surprised, welcomed the food and water his new caretakers urged upon him. By the time they had neared civilized lands once more, he was on the verge of health but so too did he find himself in chains. They hooded him when he was not being fed and kept him fettered that he could not escape. He bided his captivity well, knowing that when he was old enough he might change forms and escape and also that his current hosts were much more dependable than his own family had been. Unlike most of his kin, he was very curious about humanity. Finally the rains came and with it the famine dissipated and eventually peace ensued. By this time, the little bird was not quite so little and found himself in the keeping of the greatest King then ruling among men. He also felt himself on the verge of some great change.

The King was eager that his expensive little hobby grow quickly that he might try flying him all the sooner, but first came a different stage of maturity for this strange creature from the north. One day the fledgling just knew that he had the ability within himself to be other than he was. He waited until dark and all were gone to bed and then he tried. He became a little mouse and was soon free of both hood and jesses. He scampered away triumphantly but nearly made an easy meal for a passing cat. The cat shrieked to be set upon by a dog that had once been a mouse and both were chased off by an infuriated servant upset at the din at such an hour. The dog became a deer and vanished into the woods. The stag pondered his future, should he return home to his people or continue for a time to dwell among men? His own kin had nearly abandoned him to starve and his own brother had tried to murder him. No, he would remain among men and see what the creatures truly were. Then perhaps one day he would return to his own kind once he tired of wandering among lesser creatures. He could perhaps visit the dragons but they were solitary creatures and more often asleep than not. Unicorns were wise but wary and would know he was not one of them. No, men attracted his fancy being both intelligent and busy and sociable. There was certainly much to learn about them, especially as to why his own kin despised them so even as he himself felt despised.

Dawn was creeping over the horizon and a braying horn and howling dogs came to his ears; he smiled for he had become the quarry of the hunt. With a thought he became a crow and sat unobtrusively in a tree while the hounds passed beneath and whined as they circled and sniffed continually but could track their quarry no longer. The baffled huntsmen moved on and the crow cawed in amusement. There was one determined young lad who seemed reluctant to give up his prey and continued to look about long after his fellows had ridden on. It was an easy task to become a large bear and knock the man from his saddle, but it was not such a wise idea for the horse panicked and fled while the Akoni felt some regret for assaulting the poor boy so. He had intended no hurt to the lad, only to steal his horse and trappings but the horse was gone and the boy lay senseless on the ground. The Akoni sighed, took on the form of a boy about the same age and sat beside the youth until he came to his senses. The boy was not long in coming to and gaped in astonishment at the youth sitting next to him.

The prone boy stammered, "where is the bear?"

The Akoni asked, "what bear?"

The boy's eyes went wide and he lapsed again into darkness. The sound of approaching hooves drew the Akoni's eyes as the hunters returned, having missed the youngest member of their party. They accosted the stranger, "what happened here?"

The Akoni said, "the boy's horse took a fright and left his poor master as you see him. I saw what happened and could not leave him alone." They thanked him for his thoughtfulness and asked after himself. He replied, "I am but a stranger here with nothing but the clothes on my back."

One of the men in the party smiled, "well lad, I am sure the boy's mother will be most grateful for the care you have taken of her son. She is one of the richest ladies in the land and a widow; the boy is all she has left of kith or kin." They welcomed the Akoni into their party and escorted the injured boy to his mother who was indeed grateful though the Akoni was the instigator of the whole ordeal.

They soon adopted the stranger as a cousin and he and the injured boy, Duncan, were soon fast friends. The Akoni had soon discovered that humans required names to tell each other apart and he assumed the name Kite, after the man who had taken him out of the far north to be his pseudonym, whilst he dwelt among men. He enjoyed immensely the companionship and fun of his newfound brother, something his kin would have greatly disdained for theirs was an austere and practical life. After a year, Kite felt himself quite an expert on humans, at least on noble sons. He began to wonder if there were not more to life and began to think of leaving. Duncan, it seemed, was having similar thoughts, perhaps because boys that age, regardless of species, often wonder what adventures life yet holds for them. They spoke together of this growing unease with the status quo and Duncan broached the subject of riding to Astoria where it was said many a man had made his fortune or found his future. Kite had heard many rumors of this strange city, good and bad, and was quite intrigued by the prospect of finding out the truth for himself. Duncan's mother would prefer her son to remain safely at home but she could deny him nothing, so tearfully bid him farewell and the two lads soon set off for Astoria and the adventures that must surely lurk in that storied land.

Kite was fascinated to discover the Brethren and their peculiar ways. Amongst the Akoni, it was thought man was a fallen creature, beyond redemption or worth yet the Brethren seemed to think themselves very servants of the Master! And the more Kite attended classes, and watched and questioned these strange creatures the more he began to believe that the men were right and his own kin were wrong. Duncan stayed on for a year or two but soon tired of life in Astoria and knew his mother was yearning for his return. He spoke to Kite upon the matter, but Kite felt he could not yet leave this strange city. He bid his friend a sad farewell and remained in Astoria as Duncan set out for home. Kite smiled to himself at the pang of sadness that touched his heart at the parting, knowing his kin would think him a fool for having such fond feelings for a human! He sighed and wondered what to do with his own life. He had learned so much and had all of time to memorize the library but he was tired of study and yearned to try his wings as it were. It had been long since he had taken on his avian form and he knew himself full old enough to be able to fly. He could return to his people but he had come to love these strange creatures and was reluctant to return home to his cold, grave folk. He crept to the battlements one night, took again his falcon form and leapt into the night dark air. He landed on a rocky crag deep within the woods and stared forlornly at the moon, asking questions to which he knew there was no answer.

But there came an answer from a truly marvelous source. The Master himself wandered into that rocky glade and asked, "would you forsake your kin and your marvelous native talents to dwell among men? Would you live a mere century or perhaps three when all of time could be yours to know?"

The hawk cowered before his Maker and said, "I find myself loving these poor creatures more than my own kin and wishing to dwell amongst them as one of their own and not alone, a stranger as I am."

The Master smiled gently, "you have dwelt among them since your childhood and have a heart more akin to their own than to that of your proud and rebellious kind. I intended for your own kin to have such a warmth about them but they have chosen their own arrogance over myself and all others. You have dwelt among friendly and loving men, be not fooled for there are others of a darker or colder nature. Do you still wish to dwell among them? I made you as you are, gifted above all other races that walk the earth, but if you wish to serve me as only men were meant to then you may have your wish but know your days are now numbered and you have but one form."

The hawk sighed, "let it be as you have spoken for I will not be content in returning to my own people nor as an outsider amongst those whom I love most, no matter my power or lifespan."

The Master smiled, "then you had best return to the castle ere you must walk back naked!" He was suddenly gone and the Akoni knew his time was short. He raced back to his own room and the moment he entered his silent chamber he felt himself immortal no more.

Kite found himself a true man and rejoiced in at last finding himself truly a part of the community he had come to love instead of a stranger in its midst. He was not long in joining the Brethren, the life he truly wished to live. He did not regret in the least the trade he had made and for the first time in his life, truly felt as if he belonged. He joined the Messenger sect and was ever to be found undertaking one insane mission or another for the Lady. So it was that many years passed and he was bidden to visit an old friend. Duncan was now an old man with three sons each vying for their father's title and lands; he had sent to the Lady for help in settling his household disputes and she had dispatched Kite upon the errand. Duncan was delighted to see his old friend and the matter was quickly settled once the Brother had heard everyone's claims and told them all what their nation's rather confusing and numerous laws said upon the matter. The eldest would claim his father's title while the two younger would gain some inheritance but nothing quite so grand as they had hoped. Duncan was just happy to have peace in his house once more. But it was not to last.

The youngest son, Dennis, was not so easily satisfied and was determined to become rich in his own right, even if he must risk everything to do it. He decided to go north and hunt the legendary Snow Falcon. Kite was astonished at the idea, both at the risk the young man was taking and also at the threat to his former people. He brought his concerns to Duncan but the old man only shook his head, "alas, the boy will do as he pleases."

Kite said firmly, "then I shall accompany him to see that nothing goes amiss for anyone."

Duncan smiled, "thank you for taking such good care of my son."

Kite laughed, "it is the least I can do for all the kindness your family showed to me so many years ago when I was the one in need. But first I must ask leave of the Lady."

Dennis was delighted to have such a companion and eager to see Astoria, of which his father spoke so fondly. He did not go alone for once rumor spread, he soon acquired five friends and distant relations, all eager to make their fortune. The little party soon set off for Astoria and the astonished Lady was not long in giving her blessing to Kite's adventure. Kite was determined to keep the boys from harm and also to keep his own folk from falling into the hands of these well meaning mortals, for they did not know the birds were thinking creatures and a people all their own. It was late spring when they set forth and they knew they must not linger long into the summer lest they find themselves trapped by snow and worse in the far north.

As they rode north, Kite ever felt himself longing for his former life and feeling for the first time regret at his decision. He loved mankind dearly but in his heart he knew he was still an Akoni and wished there was some way to show his people what it was to love and be loved, especially by the Master! As the days wore on, one by one, the boys dropped out and went home until only Dennis and Kite remained upon the adventure. What they had thought would be a joyous lark and instant wealth and renown turned into days of discomfort and tedium with little hope of anything but imminent death by weather, predators, or hunger in that dreadful land. Finally even Dennis' quailing hopes died and he said, "I am ready to go home now."

Kite looked wistfully about him, thinking it nearly the same spot he had been discovered as a chick, "I quite agree."

The unicorn whinnied fearfully as a great bear appeared from nowhere and charged at them with a baleful roar. The boy's horse panicked and threw him to the ground. Kite slid from his saddle, threw the dazed boy aback the unicorn and ordered the beast to run with all speed and bear the boy home. The unicorn protested but Kite would not be gainsaid. With a resigned whinny he galloped south, the boy was so dazed that he could only hang on, not cognizant enough to know that his father's friend remained behind to confront the great bear, alone and afoot.

Kite knew his idea was insane but he also knew it was the only way to save the boy. This was no bear, in fact he somehow knew that this particular Akoni was also his murderous brother. He said as the bear came within feet of him, "come to finish the job then?" The bear stopped in mid-charge and his jaw dropped in astonishment. Kite stood there unafraid, his sword remained in its sheath as he said, "yes, I know who and what you are. Do not be surprised. And I also know what it was you did in this very spot so many years ago." The bear just stood there and gaped in wonder. The creature smelled like a man, looked like a man, but there was something truly strange about him.

"Yes," continued Kite, "here it was that you thought you murdered your brother. A thing you meant for evil the Master has turned to good."

The bear's slack jaw finally moved as it said, "it cannot be!"

Kite snorted, "you throttled me and left me for dead! But I was not and neither did I perish of thirst, for I was taken by a party of men and have spent the balance of my days amongst them."

The bear snarled, "you have spent so much time among them that you even smell like one!"

Kite said quietly, "I have become one of them."

The bear gaped in horror, "no!"

Kite smiled wistfully, "I did it quite willingly you know. I have come to like them rather well and have ever felt more welcome among them than among my own kin!"

The bear snarled, "they are a despised and wretched race! Even the Master has forsaken them for their part in His demise."

Kite laughed, "nay, it was the Master himself that allowed me to become one of them. He calls them beloved and I do not think it wise to dispute one's Maker on such a point. It is our own people that have despised our Maker and all other creatures! Perhaps that is why I have returned, to teach our own wretched race what it is love others."

"You are as deluded and lost as the entire race of men!" snarled the bear, "and I will not let such contaminated thinking disturb our peace. I did it once and rejoiced at my perceived success. This time I will succeed in my attempt and rejoice all the more!" There was little Kite could do to resist the awful intentions of his brother and this time there was no doubt that he had finished the job.

Kite stood outside of himself, watching his brother amble away in a satisfied manner; the Master stood beside him. Kite sighed, "I did try."

The Master smiled sadly, "child, that is all I ask. It is up to every thinking soul to decide whether it will accept or reject Me. One day your people shall come to their senses, but it will be long in coming and a painful lesson ere learned." He smiled broadly, "come, greater things await." They exchanged an excited smile and vanished from the mortal sphere. Dennis rode sadly home and told his grim tale, and long did the legend live on in Duncan's family with many a child proudly bearing the name of that beloved hero.

### No Greater Love

The sun was not yet risen but the rosy hints of dawn lurked upon the distant horizon and the entire sky was a placid blue-grey in anticipation of its coming. A sliver of moon hung low on the horizon and the delicate silhouette of the poplars stood stark against the fresh snow. Ekron sniffed the air and scanned the horizon looking for the faintest sign of movement. Suddenly a shrill cry of battle rent the still air and a great unicorn stallion came charging out of the stand of poplars little hindered by the belly deep snow. The young stallion screamed his own challenge and raced to meet his rival. They met, reared, pawed the air, jumped, kicked, dodged, clashed horns, and performed the most graceful dance never witnessed by human eyes. With sides heaving and sweat freezing on their glossy coats, they ended their mock battle with the younger bowing his head gratefully to the elder who whinnied in delight. The young stallion's companions trotted up and commented gaily in their own tongue about their friend's performance while the elder stallion watched in amusement. There had been no real enmity between the two, simply an exercise to prepare the younger for his future and remind the elder of his past and the simple joy of moving. The old stallion whinnied a joyous farewell and vanished in the direction from whence he had come, once more about his own business.

The half dozen young colts watched him go with no little awe, wondering if they would ever gain such wisdom, experience, and respect in the eyes of their own people. He was an old campaigner well over five hundred years old and much respected among his people. The members of the young band were all young males within five years of fifty and had only been away from their mothers' side for a year or two. They would run together, learning of the world and growing in strength and wisdom until each was Called. Once Called, the summoned individual would quietly withdraw and seek out his own fate while the others went on as ever before, and occasionally a newly weaned colt would join them thus keeping their number ever around half a dozen.

Unicorn society was odd when viewed from a human perspective, but then they felt the same of humans. It was a matriarchal society, with related females living together in small bands with their nursing foals. At around fifty years of age, the young colts left and joined a bachelor band such as this until their time of Calling. A filly stayed in her mothers' band until she had borne and raised four or five foals, at which point she might also seek a life of service with one of the Brethren as the colts did almost from the time of weaning or remain indefinitely in the Wilds rearing foals if she so preferred. Mature stallions were solitary and protected the wandering bands of mares whose territory overlapped with his, even if he was not father to any of the foals therein. No stallion was considered mature and accepted back into unicorn society until he had served at least three hundred years with the Brethren. Some preferred active service to the Brethren to establishing their own territory and taking their place in unicorn society and were ever in such service until life failed them. The very purpose for which unicorns existed in the first place was to serve as friends and companions to the wandering Brethren in their varied and dangerous quests thus together serving the Master's purposes.

A unicorn had no say in choosing whom they would serve in such a manner; they simply felt a stirring in their heart and off they must go in search of their new companion or deny the impulse and turn rogue. Very few unicorns in the history of all creation had ever fallen into such rebellion but the results were always tragic. It was for this which they were made and in such that they found their purpose and joy. Their relationship to humans was a strange one. To the majority of humanity they were simply a legend and children's tale; unicorns had little to do with ordinary humans and even if glimpsed were seen as nothing more than ordinary horses for such was often their guise when wandering in civilized lands. To the Brethren, those humans who had sworn their lives in service to the Master, they were dearest friends and beloved companions, often trading their lives for that of their human partners. In many parts of the world, the Brethren were thought as mythical as their legendary mounts but both continued their service to others regardless of whether or not their efforts were known or appreciated for this was their calling and their very purpose for being.

Ekron was not sure how he felt about such service; he looked forward to that day with dread and dire curiosity. He both greatly anticipated and sorely dreaded that great day when all his immediate future would be revealed to him. It was his whole reason for being but also meant he might well die before his time. He was not sure he was ready to face even the possibility of death even for so noble a cause. He enjoyed life far too much. His companions had made their way out into the heart of the meadow and were frisking in the fresh snow and crimson glory of the morning. He had far too much living to do to die just yet. As if summoned by his thoughts, his heart stirred within him and he knew his time had come. He felt every impulse of his being drawing him south. He snorted in consternation and looked desperately to his friends who were enjoying the morning as only the young can. Rearing, he screamed in both joy and frustration as he charged into the midst of his friends to partake in their rambunctious joy; certainly there could be no danger in waiting at least a little longer before giving up his freedom and risking so much when he had so much living yet to do. His companions could tell he was uneasy but he was unwilling to discuss his thoughts and such was the beauty of the morning that their attention was easily drawn elsewhere.

Yorin moved swiftly down the corridor in answer to the Lady's summons; he had only taken his Oath the day before to officially become a member of the Brethren. He had been in Astoria for several years but was only just now old enough to join the Brethren. He wondered what it was that could cause such a venerable women to send for the least of her servants. A servant stood outside her usual audience chamber and admitted the petrified boy who bowed to the ancient woman seated before him; she nodded regally and gave him a small, sad smile. He stood before her, tense as only a new recruit can be before his much experienced and aged commanding officer. She said quietly, "Yorin I am afraid you must leave us for a time."

The flabbergasted boy asked, "what have I done or left undone that I deserve banishment my Lady?"

She smiled weakly and said, "it is none of your doing. The timing is not to your advantage but things must be as they are. Your mother lies on her deathbed and writes desperately for your return ere she dies. I am granting you a leave of absence to attend to your grief and that of your family, but once the time of mourning has passed I ask that you return to us with all speed to continue your training. This is a delicate and awkward time for you but your family has need of you and I am not so heartless as to deny their request. Have you a unicorn?"

His shock and grief showed plain upon his face and it took him a moment to regain enough composure to answer, "nay Lady, I am quite unattached at the moment."

She nodded grimly, "you will have to set out upon a normal horse then and hope a unicorn shall meet you upon the way. You have my deepest sympathies. May the Master ride with you."

He bowed deeply and very nearly ran from her chambers with tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He found a horse waiting in the stables already saddled; all he needed to do was secure his bulging saddle bags, and he was off with all the speed he dared at the start of such a journey. He rode quickly and within a week arrived at the house he had not seen in four years; the house he had fled in shame and terror. He wondered how his father would receive him and worried that perhaps it was already too late for his poor, dear mother. The farmyard was silent save the occasional chatter of the barnyard fowl pecking about in their endless quest for any speck of spilled grain or unlucky insects. An ancient dog, nearly blind and completely deaf with the years, lay upon the doorstep and raised his head slowly when he finally realized he was not alone save for the chickens. His tail thumped slightly but he dropped his head once more upon his great paws and resumed the nap that consumed the majority of his waning hours.

Yorin stepped over the dog, pushed open the door, and entered the old familiar kitchen where many bitter hours had passed whenever his father was home. A weak voice came from the adjoining room and his heart sank to hear such a feeble query from his mother. Yorin said in feigned cheer, "I am come at last mother." The sound of weeping was the only reply and he hurried to her bedside. His heart eased to see that she was weeping for joy and that his presence brought some life back into her drab eyes.

Her tears subsided and she looked him over boldly before smiling deeply and saying, "you have certainly grown into a handsome young man my dear child. I am glad you have come, for my time grows short and I would not have it run out without seeing you once more."

He sat there by her bed and told her of all his adventures in the years since their parting. It had been at her urging that he had set off for Astoria one tempestuous night afoot and with nothing but the clothes on his back, four years ago when his father had returned in a drunken rage far worse than the battering rain without. What she had endured at his disappearance he could hardly imagine and had not the heart to ask. His father had a murderous temper at the best of times, thought little of his wife and less of his son, and spent far more time at the tavern than in his own house. The man had come home late in a terrible temper and had found some small fault with his wife whom the boy tried valiantly to defend only to garner the wrath of his inebriated sire. The man might have killed the boy had he not fled into the night when his mother caught the evil gleam in his eye; she whispered in his ear the name of a place much beloved and oft dreamed of but never again to be glimpsed by her beautiful eyes. She had been a girl there and fallen in love with a traveling merchant, running away with a man whom she hardly knew. She soon found herself with child and the man reluctantly married her and settled in this very house. He could never quite forgive the woman for ruining his life as he saw it and blamed the child even more.

As the years passed and he fell ever deeper into self-pity and despair, his drinking habit consumed him and left his family bereft of what little they had ever had of a husband and father. The boy had walked for many long miles, until at last, bedraggled and nearly starving, he finally reached the city of refuge that his mother longed to see once more. He gratefully took his place among the Students and it was not long before he had decided that he wished more than anything else to one day join the Brethren. He finished his tale nervously by saying, "I hope you can be proud of me mother for I have joined the Brethren."

She smiled deeply and her eyes twinkled as she whispered, "then you have made a far wiser use of your life than ever did I. You are the only good thing I ever did and I am most certainly proud of you."

He beamed at her words but sobered quickly as he asked, "and what of you since I have been gone?"

She shrugged weakly and the fire in her eyes dimmed again to near lifelessness saying, "it is much as it always was. Your father is rarely home anymore which sadly in his current state must be seen as a small blessing, at least for my sake. He blames you for most of the miseries in his life and me for the rest. He pities me a little because of my illness, which has spared me the worst of his wrath, yet he cannot bear to look upon me and has fallen into despair and bitterness thus he tries to drown the worst of his sorrows as he always has. I think deep down he does still cares about me. You must not blame him or hold any bitterness towards him, no matter how it might be deserved, it will only cause you to fall into the same pit that has so ensnared him."

Yorin smiled sadly, "I have learned to forgive mother. Coming home was the hardest thing I have ever done but in so doing I have finally laid to rest all my bitter feelings of the past."

She smiled and said, "then I may die in peace knowing your own hatred will not consume you."

He sighed, "it is not hatred mother nor has it ever been. Certainly I have been angry and more deeply hurt than words can say; bitterness was also my companion until I found hope in One greater than myself. But it is pity that has moved in my heart these last sundered years."

"I need none of your pity wretch!" came a thundering and slurring voice from the kitchen. His mother seemed to shrink into herself as Yorin's father stomped into the room and looked derisively at his own son. "Who told you to come back beggin' at my door boy?" scowled the man.

Yorin stood and said patiently, "mother wrote to hasten my return saying she was deathly ill. That is the only reason I have come. Fear not, for I shall ride on as soon as I may and shall be no burden to you."

The old man snorted, "they've made a right sissy out of you. I knew you would never amount to anythin'. Stay if you must but you won't be seein' anythin' of me." He turned on his heel with much swaying and withdrew suddenly and violently from the house.

His mother smiled wanly, "that went much better than I had feared. My time is not long dear heart and then you may return to happier climes."

He sat once more and held her hand saying, "I will miss you mother, is there naught that can be done?"

She smiled sadly and said, "so many years of toil and sorrow have taken their toll upon me child. I have not the will nor the strength to rise from this bed. Death is perhaps an easier road with a happier horizon than I have had in all the terrible years of my later life and I go willingly and peacefully. Do not mourn my son, for we shall meet again in the Master's bright country. Your father thought me a fool for believing such 'tales' as he calls them, he still does, but it is the only bright spot in all these dark and dreary days. I have made mistakes in my life but I know that the Master's blood has atoned for them and he waits to greet me when all my mortal striving is done though I, least of all deserve such favor." Yorin's eyes were wide at her revelation about her thoughts on death. She smiled weakly and said, "do not think me suicidal lad. It is only that I know my weary years have finally come to an end and that I may finally find the peace and joy that have eluded me since childhood. Can you look down upon me for welcoming such a morning?"

He stroked her wispy hair and said, "nay mother, I can only share your joy in the hope that will come after all your long and bitter years. But know that I shall miss you terribly. Thank you for setting me upon the path of true joy. Though my life began in sorrow, my later years have been blessed with joy and peace."

She smiled once more and they sat long in silence taking great pleasure in the mere presence of the other. Yorin must have drifted to sleep for he woke to find the first glimmerings of dawn coming through the window. He looked down upon the peaceful face of his mother, as if she were lost in some sweet dream, but his smile soon became a sob as he saw that she was beyond drawing breath. "Dead is she boy?" sneered his father from the doorway, "she would've died a month gone had she not been holding out for hope of seeing you. At least she troubles me no longer. You would do well to do the same."

Yorin wiped away his tears and said, "is that all I ever was to you was a burden?"

The man laughed darkly, "finally some understanding. Be useful for once in your worthless life and see to your mother. Then ride off and never look back. I want nothing to do with you or your precious fairy tales." He stomped off into the growing day leaving Yorin the lonely task of burying his mother.

The man nearly ran from the house once he was sure the boy could not see his desperate haste. He was not sure how he would cope without the old hag, probably the same as he always had. He was so deadened with bitterness and self-pity that there was little room left in his shriveled heart for feelings for aught but himself. He hated the boy, for even the merest sight of him was a painful reminder of his failure as a husband and father. The woman still held some small bit of fondness in his heart, if only the pleasant stirring of half forgotten memory but that was growing dimmer as the years passed and soon she would be forgotten completely. He took his usual seat at the tavern and ordered his usual draught though the day was hardly begun. A few travelers were finishing their morning meals but otherwise the place was deserted.

Well into his third mug of the local brew the old man groused, "idiot boy! Why did he have to ride back into my life! Why did that wretched woman ever swoon her way into it either?" He raged on about the idiocy of his son and the pathetic state of his life for all the world to hear. Two strangers sitting nearby exchanged an intrigued look before joining the vociferous man at his table.

"Family trouble ay?" asked the grey bearded man.

The drunken man nodded, "the worst. My idiot son has returned to visit his dying mother, she passed this morning, and he had best ride for parts unknown or I will make him regret it."

Said the short stranger, "he is alone then?"

Yorin's father laughed bitterly, "as alone as me. No one would miss him if the earth should open up and swallow him. It would do us all a favor if it did."

"He has money?" asked the bearded man.

"Bah," scoffed the old man, "he has money enough to ride. What do I care if he has a penny in his pocket? He can starve for all of me."

"Whither is he bound?" asked the short fellow.

The man shrugged, "he rides north as soon as he has seen to his mother's remains."

The two exchanged another significant look and suddenly withdrew from the inn after buying the man another round of ale. He looked around in surprise but quickly forgot his odd visitors as he partook of their generous gift.

Yorin placed the last stone upon the cairn he had erected over his mother's grave. He smiled sadly at her final resting place before swinging into his saddle and turning the horse towards home. He mourned more for his father's blighted soul than for his poor mother; he idly wondered if there were any way to touch his ashen heart. His attention was pulled back to the present as his horse whickered a greeting to the horses on the road ahead. Two ragged men sat their mounts, blocking the road and both held bows at the ready. Yorin wasted no time in turning his horse and putting his heels to his flanks but the poor beast could not outrun an arrow and the boy soon lay unmoving on the ground. With no one to spur him on, the gelding stopped his flight and curiously sniffed at his unseated rider. The short bandit took the gelding's reins while the bearded man helped himself to anything of value the boy had upon his person. As he searched the prone form, Yorin groaned weakly. They had thought the wound fatal.

The short man laughed, "leave him, he will be dead soon enough. Finish your job before someone finds us."

They shared a laugh and quickly vanished with the horse, Yorin's sword, and his purse. They were conmen, not usually prone to murder but the situation was too much to resist. True the young fool had very little of value upon him but the horse alone was worth the effort and no one would miss the young rascal as far as they could tell. It was a perfect crime. They swiftly rode off with none the wiser.

Yorin lay unconscious with an arrow in his back, not knowing that a great debate was taking place not far from his prone form. Ekron had emerged from the bushes along the road and stared miserably at the dying boy. He had spent weeks dithering about and enjoying himself or at least trying to enjoy himself in various innocent pleasures, but he had discovered that one cannot truly enjoy oneself when one is blatantly ignoring something that must be done. He had finally come south, slowly, for he was not eager for this meeting, only to discover that his procrastination had surely cost the poor boy his life. He could feel the flickering and wavering of the boy's strength as his wounded body struggled to go on with such terrible insults working against its most valiant efforts. He felt a deep yearning to help the boy, as if they had been friends all their lives and now his best and dearest friend was in deepest need. He knew what he could do but did he dare do it? Should he die on behalf of a boy he had never met? Was it his fault that the human child could not keep himself from such mortal harm? Must he rectify the wrongs endured by others?

He looked upon the boy in near panic. He knew his duty but had ignored it. He knew that this tragedy could well have been prevented had he done what he should have from the start. The pitiful creature was no older than himself, nothing but a foal! Did the poor thing deserve death more than he who had delayed when he knew he should make haste? If anyone was in the wrong, it must truly be himself. Had not the Master done the same for all the wandering and rebellious world yet he was without blemish or fault and more so was the Maker of those for which he had shed his own precious blood. Was not the unicorn made in his very image and was not it their duty, just as much as his, to take the place of those whom they loved more than life itself? Ekron felt a great peace within himself as his harried mind finally submitted willingly to the duties for which he had been born. The greatest gift of the unicorn is the ability to take a mortal wound upon himself and thus spare the life of his dearest friend though at the cost of his own. He was made in the image of the Master and this gift was but the smallest echo of the price paid by the Master himself for all of his fallen and desperate creatures.

He was about to enact this last noble transaction when he was startled by the faint laughter of a female of the human variety. He laid back his ears at such an uncouth disturbance at such a time but more so for the evil taint that emanated from the woman. She was a shabby creature in her middle years and she did not seem in the least afraid of the legend that stood in his full glory before her nor at all concerned that a dying man lay between them. She smiled keenly and said, "not yet beastie. I know what you are about though I never thought to meet a unicorn with moral conundrums! Do not look so surprised, I cannot read minds but the struggle was writ plain on your face. If you die in the boy's stead I will drive a dagger into his heart and that will be the end of you both." The stallion screamed in fury and pawed the air but she did not look impressed in the least. She said, "I will however make a deal with you." He eyed her balefully and she took his obvious meaning to be that he would not bargain with such a villain. She sighed, "have it your way beastie but it seems such a waste of life on both your parts. What if I said you could both survive this little debacle?" Now he was curious and she continued, "I have some skill with healing though my more useful skills will not work much if at all on the likes of him. I can however devise a more traditional method of cure in this instance. In exchange you must serve me until I release you or I succumb to death."

Ekron glared at her in astonishment that she would make such an offer. She laughed derisively and said, "my meager lifespan is nothing compared to yours and I would put you to no devious use. Having such a fantastic creature in my keeping alone, would do much for my reputation amongst those of like profession. You did not wish to die only moments ago, why now is it even an option when you know your sacrifice would be in vain? What is a few years compared to eternity after all?" He looked again at the stricken boy and glared at the witch. He knew she spoke truly yet he could not attack her unless she threatened the boy which she would not while Ekron lived. It would break his spirit to endure such slavery but he could see no other option. He nodded miserably and she laughed horribly but wasted no time in keeping up her end of the bargain. She had come upon the scene completely by chance and her devious mind soon devised a plan to make a most interesting use of the situation. She said to the beast, "can you not take on some form more amenable to moving this poor wretch to my cottage?" Ekron nodded glumly and suddenly appeared as a rather shaggy donkey which knelt down that the witch might place the prone form upon his back. Together they trudged towards her house, the one triumphant and the other miserable. Ekron tried to console himself with the fact that the witch could not live more than fifty more years and that he would then be free of her but his heart quailed to think of what he must endure in the interim. Slowly his courage failed and his great heart broke in despair, for a unicorn cannot live in chains. By the time they reached the wretched little hovel the unicorn had become the donkey he appeared.

The witch was not pleased with this unforeseen result of her bargain but it was an interesting turn of events. She would keep her end of the bargain and perhaps she could find some other mischief to wreak once the boy was fully recovered. The wound was ugly but not necessarily fatal, especially tended with her special remedies and uncanny skill. Her dark magics would not work on such a one for their source was the antithesis of the boy's wretched Master but her more traditional medicines might suffice. She had unusual luck with a certain substance derived from a rather common mold in cases such as this; it seemed to have the ability to ward off the wound fever. Within a fortnight he was well on his way to recovery. He was still sore and bruised but he was no longer upon the brink of death. He knew nothing of his host and she said little to him and would not until she was certain he was fully healed. He was curious but so weak that he had no strength for prolonged conversation with someone who was unwilling to speak. Finally the day came when he felt well enough to begin his journey home for he was quite eager to return to Astoria.

Finally the hag spoke candidly, "leaving already? Are you not more grateful to one who has spared you from death?"

The boy bowed formally and said, "I am deeply grateful for all you have done and if there is something within my power to repay your kindness please speak that I may know it."

She laughed at his exceeding politeness and said, "will you not stay on and work for me for a time?"

The boy said reluctantly, "alas dear woman, I am not my own master but am bidden to return whence my duty lies. Is there nothing else you might ask of me?"

She laughed all the more, "you Brethren are all the same, is there never a time when your duty does not come first?"

He looked at her blankly and said quietly, "it is who we are."

She scoffed, "and how were you planning to get back to Astoria? It is a very long walk."

He nodded, "I will walk if I must."

She motioned for him to join her and he followed her curiously to the stable. There was nothing in the ramshackle barn but an old roan cow, a pig, and a shaggy little donkey; Yorin could see nothing to interest his host. Certainly she could not be offering him the services of the poor little beast! She laughed, as if anticipating such a thought but kept silent as he approached the creature. His ears perked up and his eyes brightened in interest but they were as dull as any other unthinking creature's eyes. Yorin could not explain why he felt such a fervent desire to greet the shaggy beast. The witch laughed at his confusion and said, "know you not who this is or perhaps I should say was?" He stared at her blankly. She said in confusion, "do you not know your own unicorn when you see him?"

He said in a stricken voice, "I have yet to meet the noble creature."

The woman smiled viciously, "this is he. I came upon him desperate to spare your life with his though apparently you were strangers at the time. I talked him out of it for I promised to kill you if he did. He agreed to serve me until my dying day if I healed you by more traditional means. I did not anticipate him dwindling so quickly into a common beast of burden but it is as you see. What will you do about the situation?"

Yorin stared at her in disbelief, "how can you be so heartless?"

She mocked him, "how can you be so maladjusted! I am human therefore I am selfish. I care nothing for your endless preaching of selflessness, no one can live like that! I take advantage where I can and so I survive; that is what it is to be human."

He said weakly, "what must I do to free the wretched creature?"

She smiled in anticipation, "would you forsake your Oath for his sake?"

The boy looked stricken but nodded, "I would cease my service to the Brethren if it would free the poor creature."

She shook her head, "no, I mean forsake your beloved Master completely, not just withdraw from the Brethren."

The boy shook his head, "that I cannot do."

She scowled, "very well, if I cannot deny your precious Master your service perhaps I can render it useless. Would you trade your sight for the creature's freedom?"

The boy stared at her in disbelief, "you cannot be serious!"

The hag laughed, "of what use are jokes at a time like this? I am quite serious. If you wish for the brute's freedom it will cost you your eyes. How much does the poor thing mean to you?"

The boy sighed heavily, "of what use can such a bargain be to you?"

She cackled malevolently, "no practical use perhaps but it shall amuse me no end. What say you?"

The boy gave her a desperate look, "is there no other way?"

She crossed her arms, smiled smugly, and firmly shook her head. He looked upon the hapless donkey wondering how such a magnificent creature could be reduced to so pitiable a state. He could not leave the poor beast to his fate if there was anything within his power to rectify the situation. The sadness and pity upon Yorin's face were soon replaced by grim determination as he said, "very well witch, let it be as it must." She laughed long and hard and ushered the boy back into the house though he found nothing amusing in the whole ordeal. In the house, the old woman discovered she had a visitor. By the look of him, he was badly in need of something for pain. The disheveled man turned to face them as they entered and his face flushed with sudden anger and utter hatred as he recognized the boy.

"You!" screeched Yorin's father, "will I never be rid of you! Perhaps this time you shall not be allowed to walk away from the encounter!"

The hag's smile deepened as she looked to the boy and asked, "and what has my charming guest to do with you?"

The man spat as he sneered, "this young cur is regrettably my son and the reason for all the misery in my life. Step aside woman and let me make an end of him."

The woman laughed, "you would kill your own son?"

He nodded grimly with something like madness tingeing his voice, "he has brought nothing but disaster upon his entire family and it is the least he deserves. I let him ride off once but not again; he shall have no second chance."

Her smile deepened as she said, "perhaps it would be better to inflict as much misery upon him as he apparently has bestowed upon you?"

The man glared at her thoughtfully and asked, "how?"

She laughed maliciously and said, "put out his eyes. Let him spend the rest of his days begging in darkness."

His smile echoed hers and Yorin felt an unconscious shiver run down his spine as he watched his father approach the hearth and withdraw a glowing poker from amongst the coals. He slowly approached the boy who took a step back until the witch caught his eye; he sighed and stayed his flight. The man laughed villainously, "I like how your mind works witch. Death is too kind a punishment for the likes of him; a long miserable life is just the thing. Stand your ground boy for once in your useless life or worse will come of this!"

Yorin offered no further resistance save to scream in agony as he fell to his knees clutching at his ruined eyes after the fell deed was done. An equine scream of confusion, grief, and pain came from the stable and echoed the anguished cry of the boy. The man and the witch stood by and their awful laughter filled the house. The man scoffed, "pathetic wretch, it is the least you deserve. Why did you not offer any resistance? You are nothing but a milksop and an embarrassment to the human race."

The man received no answer for just then the door banged open and a man rushed in with drawn sword. "What is going on in here!" gasped the stranger as he looked upon the horrible scene before him.

"Put up your sword fool," groused the witch, "you have no legal right to threaten us."

The man's face was white as milk and he brandished his poker as if it might avail him against the stranger's sword. The stranger was aghast, "how can you say that! Look what this fellow has done to the boy!"

The hag laughed all the more, "the boy agreed to the price."

"Price?" asked the stranger incredulously, "what price?"

A nervous whinny came from without and the boy rose shakily to his feet and said, "help me to the door."

The stranger gently gripped his shoulders and led him to the door where a dejected and grief-stricken Ekron stood in all his glory, save that he was draped in darkness as if he were in mourning. The boy flung his arms around the great neck and the creature draped his head across the boy's back; they stood silent for several minutes while the full story was told and received though no word was spoken. There was shock and grief and remorse and horror which was soon covered and forgotten in the love and forgiveness that flowed between them. The unicorn whickered contentedly, at long last at peace within himself and the ubiquitous glow, common to his race in their natural form, once again surrounded him. The others looked on in astonishment and confusion.

Once the boy drew his attention away from his much troubled friend, there was a sound of ripping cloth and the stranger handed him a thin strip torn from his tunic to cover his vacant eyes. He then intoned, "will someone please tell me what has transpired here?" The boy sighed and told the full tale, including Ekron's part in it. The stranger nodded grimly and stared in disbelief at the hag who seemed to be enjoying the situation immensely.

Yorin's father suddenly dropped his poker in disbelief and shock was written strongly upon his face, "there can be no such love! You cannot be serious! You did not even know the beast yet you were willing to endure blindness for his sake? What have I done? What have I done? I thought you were the weak one in the family and the cause for all my wretched years, but now I see that you are stronger than ever I could be and I myself am to blame for all the misery endured not only by myself but also you and your poor mother. How can such a thing be?"

The stranger clapped the boy on the back and said, "because the Master first did such a thing for us, that by trusting in him we might also do the same for others."

The man could only shake his head in confusion and look desperately at the boy who could not see the pain written in his father's eyes. "Can you forgive me lad?" begged the man, "not only for your eyes but also for everything you have endured at my hand?"

The boy smiled weakly and said, "I forgave you long ago. Now you must forgive yourself and be willing to let the Master do the same."

The man was amazed, "he would forgive such as I?"

The boy laughed joyfully, "if you will let him."

The boy's flabbergasted father bid him farewell and went off with the stranger, who happened to be one of the Brethren, who had been passing through when his unicorn had alerted him to Ekron's disquiet and they came to investigate. The man spent the next several days listening in wonder to the Brother's many tales and for the first time in his life finally felt at peace within himself. He succumbed not long after to the carnage that so many years of hard living had wrought upon his body, but it was not without hope that Yorin buried his father next to his mother. Yorin returned to Astoria, and though blind, became one of the greatest Philosophers of his day. Ekron could not restore his friend's sight but he could act as his eyes whenever they were together and in this way, Yorin was able to get around with much ease despite his lack of vision.

### No Such Thing as Accidents

Dawn had crept over the eastern horizon and after a fury of red and purple had settled into the more common blue as it draped the morning sky. A pair of students hurried across the courtyard of the castle on their way to the stables in preparation for their morning riding class but suddenly the pair stopped dead and their eyes grew wide at the sight before them. A man lay unmoving at their feet with his neck bent at an impossible angle. They stared for a moment in horror at the corpse and then began looking frantically left and right wondering how he met his end. Suddenly a voice called from above, drawing their desperate eyes, "easy lads! A terrible way to start the morning I am sure, but certainly nothing sinister in it. Simply an accident, a dreadful one no doubt, but still an accident." The boys began to understand, for one of the guards upon the castle wall was he that spoke and the man at their feet was clad in similar garb. An accident?! The poor soul must have fallen and broken his neck last night as he stood watch. Even as this horrible contemplation made its way through their minds, a hustle and shuffle of many anxious and hurried feet and voices came from the direction of the castle.

The Lady of Astoria herself emerged with various of her servants in tow to view the grim scene. She looked surprised for a moment to see the students standing there but covered it quickly and said in a voice full of gentleness, "I am sorry you two stumbled upon our tragedy this morning. Are you able to handle such a shock?"

The boys bowed deeply and Jeremy stuttered nervously, "it is quite unsettling Lady but we shall be well." Makkin, his compatriot, nodded enthusiastically.

She nodded and said, "then you had best get to your class for you are already late." The pair exchanged a horrified look and then dashed for the stables. She smiled sadly at their hasty departure and then turned once more to the matter at hand. "What exactly happened?" asked she of the man yet standing above.

He bowed deeply and said, "Lady, I have never heard the like. Hoven stood at his post all night, occasionally walking up and down as we all do from time to time. And then this morning, I heard a stumble and a voice raised in surprise and then a great thud and things are as you find them."

She looked again at the prone form and asked almost to herself, "is it simply an accident?"

The guard bowed again and said, "Lady, I can see no other explanation."

She nodded absently, but found nothing in her study of the body. Having finished her inspection she motioned for four of those beside her to carry on with the usual proceedings after such an occurrence. They reverently lifted their fallen comrade and carried him quietly from the castle for burial. The Lady wore a look of vexation. It appeared quite innocent but she felt there must certainly be something missing. She hated mysteries, especially those that resulted in the demise of one of her servants. She did not believe in accidents but what else could it be? She shook her head in mystification and said to all those that remained about her, "I do not see how it can be other than it is, but let us be wary lest such happen again." They nodded and all went back to their regular duties on this most irregular of days.

Once the Lady and her retinue were gone, the boys led their horses out into the courtyard and made their way out of the city and towards the area used for the equine portion of their training. They soon glimpsed those bearing the dead man in the distance and Makkin asked, "what can they be doing way out there?"

Jeremy laughed grimly, "these Brethren are quite strange about death. Where a King or great warrior would have many thousands of mourners and days of observance and ever after a monument would stand upon the place of their interment, these Brethren seem to prefer an unmarked grave and as few witnesses as possible; as if they were ashamed of the whole thing! What glory is there in death if you cannot at least be remembered for a week or a day?"

Makkin mused, "but then perhaps they do not see death as you and I: a final stopping of everything useful and vital. Do they not think that greater things lie beyond? Would it not be to their thinking like laying aside a worn garment to take on something fully new and wonderful? And who ever pays heed to abandoned rags? I think I begin to understand their burial ritual if not exactly their ideas about death. What I do not understand is such an ignoble end!"

Jeremy replied, "that too has been bothering me. These men have dedicated their hearts and souls to serving a cause greater than themselves and to have it end in such a wretched fashion. It certainly makes me doubt the sovereignty of their so-called Master. How can he reign supreme if he treats his dearest servants in such a deplorable fashion. It is one thing to die in a valiant cause but by shear accident? It makes no sense."

Their contemplations were cut short as they arrived upon the riding grounds and stunned their Teacher when she asked why they were late. The look of shock upon her face was confirmation enough to the boys that the man's fate had been most unusual and unsettled his comrades greatly. After the lesson, they were the center of attention as they regaled their fellow students with the tale on the ride back to the city. By the time the afternoon meal rolled around, the Keep was buzzing with rumor and speculation, at least among the students and servants. The Brethren could only scratch their heads in wonder. It made no sense whatsoever. The man had been in the Lady's service for nearly twenty years and had stood watch at that particular place hundreds of times. What really happened? The question set the keep afire with speculation, each theory becoming wilder and weirder than the last. Had he been attacked by unknown and unseen enemies? Perhaps poisoned? Was it suicide? Perhaps he had a dark past that finally caught up with him or had he been on the brink of perpetrating some dark terror? Was there someone with a grudge or a jealousy or an old hatred? Was it an assassin and if so who would be next?

The students were buzzing with excitement and a modicum of fear as they wondered if it were not just the beginning of darker things to come. They had little attention to spare for their studies and their teachers were at a loss as to how to refocus their attention. To the Brethren, it was always a grievous day to lose one of their comrades, especially for so odd a reason but they trusted that there was a plan and a purpose in everything even if they could not see it themselves. They tried to pass this wisdom on to their young charges but to no avail, for they were far too excited by the mystery to content themselves with patient acceptance and go on faithfully with their duties. Jeremy and Makkin became the center of attention as they told and retold the tale, always looking for some new angle or detail that might shed some light on the subject but all their speculation produced nothing but wild rumor. The topic of each class that day suddenly became the strange happenings of that morning regardless of how hard the instructor tried to teach the lesson of the day and calm the over exuberance of their students.

Finally, classes were canceled and the students gathered in the dining hall to hear the Lady herself speak on the topic. They listened with eager anticipation as she began, "I know this morning's tragedy has shaken us all to the core. Some have called it an accident, but there are no accidents." At this the students erupted in a roar of whispers for if it were no accident it must be foul play. The Lady calmed the audience and continued, "neither was it murder. A man fell to his death and that is the end of it. The reason I cannot comprehend but I am certain there was a reason in it. We must trust the Master that this, as in all things, is safely in his keeping. Let there be no more wild stories or tall tales. Resume your appointed tasks and let us not find ourselves distracted by futility."

She bid them adieu and then the deafening silence became an uproar. That was it? That was all to be said upon the matter? What were the Brethren hiding? The plot only seemed to thicken. With only an hour left before the evening meal, the students were dismissed early and a select group used the unexpected free time to barricade themselves deep in the recesses of the library where they could speculate undisturbed. Makkin and Jeremy of course were the ringleaders. "Now what?" asked one of the half dozen students in the little group.

Jeremy smiled and said, "we must thoroughly investigate this incident, regardless of what the Brethren say upon the matter. There must be something more sinister or at least more interesting than that the man stumbled and broke his neck. What was he hiding or what are his masters hiding? Is there a more sinister plot afoot?"

They broke into three pairs and each had their own task. One pair would investigate the Brethren's records regarding the man himself and any related incidents. Another pair would search the murder scene (for they were by now fully convinced that it must be something more sinister than a simple fall). And Jeremy and Makkin would examine the man's mortal remains. They scattered to complete their tasks before curfew, though the pair sneaking from the city to exhume the body were probably going to have to spend an evening outside the castle which only added to the excitement. "Are you sure about this?" groused Jeremy as they made their way out of the city.

Makkin replied, "it must be done, besides, the man is dead. He really is not going to care all that much."

They draped themselves in dark cloaks and made their way into the crowds leaving the city and returning to their farms and villages for supper. They were soon beyond the city gates and walking quickly in the direction the burial party had traversed that morning. Night soon fell upon them but the moon was full and the stars bright. Jeremy clutched a lantern to be lit only when absolutely necessary. They borrowed a spade and a shovel from a farmyard as they passed and vanished into the woods where they had last caught sight of the pall bearers that morning. The grave was not hard to find and the moon gave ample light in the little clearing. The fresh turned earth yielded easily to their efforts and soon they were once again face to face with the doomed man. It was a little eerie standing there in the pallid light of the moon with the staring corpse as the wind howled through the depths of the forest.

"We had better get on with it," said Makkin with a tremor in his voice.

Jeremy sighed, "I am not sure this was such a great idea! But we have already come this far so we had best get it over with."

With a shudder, they pulled the dead man out of the grave and made a careful examination of himself and his pockets but found nothing. With a sigh of relief they returned the man to his grave and hurried away from the violated resting place. Jeremy sighed, "I really do not wish to endure that again, ugh!" Makkin nodded his agreement. They were covered in dirt, jumpy after the morbid affair, and their consciences were uneasy within them.

Makkin said trying to change the subject, "let us just hope the others have a more successful evening. Can we get back into the city do you think?"

Jeremy laughed ruefully, "covered in grime and out well after when a student should be safely inside? I think not! We are stuck out here until morning and will have to sneak back in before breakfast and hope no one asks silly questions."

Night crept on and the boys returned their pilfered shovels from whence they had come and tried to find a comfortable spot to spend the night, but it was still early enough in the year to be chilly and sometime after midnight a cold rain began to fall. They huddled together dejectedly under a tree and tried to stay warm but it was the most miserable night either had ever spent. The wind strengthened and howled in the depths of the forest like a soul bereft of hope causing their uneasy hearts to dread even more the thought that they had violated a grave and made them speculate wildly about the consequences attendant thereunto. In that dark and wild night, all manner of dreadful stories and thoughts came unbidden to their minds, especially after their night's work and the wild speculation of the previous day. Any manner of monster, ghoul, or human terror could be lurking just beyond sight, waiting to devour such infidels as they had proved themselves to be. They began to understand how men alone in the wilderness could see and hear things that were not there and imagine horrible creatures beyond description.

So it was that morning found them, cold, soaked to the bone, and terrified beyond words. They stood wearily and crept back into the city. But the difficulty would be in gaining entrance to the castle without arousing suspicion, but their poor addled minds and terrified hearts cared little about anything save getting away from that haunted forest and back amongst those of flesh and blood, no matter how much trouble it got them into. They stood outside the gates and the guards eyed them curiously, but they recognized the bedraggled pair and allowed them to pass unhindered.

They escaped to their room and quickly cleaned up and made it in time for breakfast where their coconspirators were waiting eagerly. The search of the murder scene had yielded nothing of interest and had earned the pair involved a reprimand that they had best go back inside and abide by the Lady's words of the previous day. The pair who had scoured the library reported that the man had been a student some twenty years ago, had done well in his studies, and had joined the Brethren without incident and had served faithfully until his untimely demise. There was no record of where he had come from or why he had come, which aroused the curiosity of all gathered as most of the other people mentioned in that particular history at least had a country of origin, if not a more precise biography. They had scoured the annals of the Brethren's history and found no other similar accidents or murders though there had been a few of the Brethren that seemed to have fallen afoul of bandits or weather or pestilence but none had fallen off a wall and failed to rise.

What was the man's past that they did not reveal it in the histories and who wanted to keep it a secret so desperately that they would kill the man to do it? The speculation only became worse, Jeremy and Makkin especially were nearly desperate to prove that there was a good reason they had suffered through such a night as they had. They were determined to take this to the Lady herself if they must, which it seemed they would as a servant came to fetch them immediately after breakfast. They made their bows and stood before her, nearly petrified with fear but also burning with curiosity. Her eyes held disappointment and anger, upon seeing this their knees began to quake. She said calmly, but emotion was strong by its absence, "what were you two doing last night while all sensible folk were abed?" They exchanged a mortified look but felt confession necessary if only to quiet their seething consciences. Makkin told the entire tale and she seemed mollified and even somewhat amused. She said, "it seems my dear grave robbers, that you have seen fit to punish yourselves with such an uneasy night. But if such a breech of the rules happens again I am afraid I must ask you to leave Astoria." The boys exchanged a horrified look and she continued, "and I would ask that you lay this matter to rest."

Jeremy could contain himself no longer and blurted out, "but Lady we must know the mystery."

She was surprised at his intrepidness but not displeased and said, "what mystery?"

Jeremy continued, "why did this man have to die? What is the true reason? Why is there no record of his origins or reasons for being in Astoria? I must know ere I go mad!"

She laughed then and said, "is that all? Is this why you would dare my displeasure? There is no conspiracy child! An unfortunate incident occurred and that was the end of it. It seems the height of ignominy that such dedicated men could die of plague or be murdered by bandits for the content of their pockets or fall from a height and die, but such happens to all men regardless of their station. It is part of this fallen world we live in yet we must trust that the Master will set it all to rights one day. Why does a child take ill and die? Why does a thief manage to escape justice? This I do not know but I trust it to Him who does and you would be wise to do likewise. There is no conspiracy or plot, neither are we or our deceased comrade hiding anything. If there is a reason in it, the Master is well aware of it. It is not for a King to reveal his deepest plans to his servants nor a mother to tell all her reasons to her little child, but yet the servant must trust his master and the child his mother. We must be content with what the Master chooses to reveal, trust faithfully that he will watch over the rest, and do as we know we must in his continued service. If you believe not in the Master, then you must believe in pure chance. Either way, the reason is beyond mortal comprehension and you waste your time and energy in speculation when you should be attending to your studies!"

Jeremy sighed, "but Lady, why has this man no history?"

Said she, "if he has no recorded history it is because either he chose not to tell us about it or no one took the time to write it down."

"It is not fair!" blurted Jeremy in agony, trying to grasp desperately at something, anything that might redeem his seemingly lost cause.

She smiled sadly and said, "child, nothing in this life is fair. It is very often unjust as well, but trust in the Master and though his ways may not seem 'fair' to our reckoning you can trust him to ever be just, gracious, and merciful. Now are you content or are we to have further dealings in this matter?"

They exchanged a resigned look, nodded contritely, and mumbled together, "we are finished Lady."

She smiled warmly and said, "then I pray you use this experience to learn that digging into areas where you have been forbidden to go often only results in disaster or disappointment. You may go. If you have any further desire to explore this topic, I ask that you consult me first in the future." They nodded their agreement, bowed, and darted from the room. Their little cohort found them not long after and asked after their interview.

Makkin sighed, "we promised the Lady to drop it and I begin to think she is right, that if there is a reason, it is beyond mortal comprehension."

Said one of the disappointed students, "but how can their beloved Master let such a thing happen to his dedicated servant?"

Jeremy snorted, "because he lets it happen to men in all walks of life. Just because it is senseless to us does not mean there is no purpose in it."

"What are you talking about?" asked one skeptical boy.

Makkin exchanged a grin with his friend and said, "I think I begin to see his point."

"I do not understand," complained another boy, "what has all this been about?"

"It is about faith," said Jeremy, "faith to know that regardless of what happens around us, no matter how senseless it seems to you and I, there is a will and a plan greater than ours. When we sat alone in the woods last night, I was terrified to think what might be out there in the dark and the wind. I had nothing greater than myself and my terrors to cling to. It was the worst night of my life! I felt so utterly alone and wretched and knew I needed something or someone to cling to that was greater than myself, greater than my fear, and greater than the dark."

Makkin added, "we got so excited over rumors and suffered so much for absolutely nothing! That is what our teachers have been so vainly trying to tell us! That without the Master, our greatest aspirations and dreams are nothing! For something to matter and to endure it must have roots in something greater than this fleeting and broken mortal world."

The other students exchanged a horrified look and one of their number spoke with a tremulous voice, "you have not actually started to believe have you?"

The pair so accused exchanged a delighted smile and Jeremy nodded, "I suppose we have."

"And that perhaps is the point of this entire exercise," said a voice overflowing with joy and amusement behind them, "or at least part of it."

Six pairs of eyes suddenly darted to the source of the voice but saw nothing, save perhaps a flash of light, but they knew in their hearts that there had been something or rather Someone there and at least two of those hearts desired nothing ever after than to hear that voice speak once more in approval of their actions. The others were never quite sure if there was something there or if it were just a figment of their overtaxed imaginations.

Of Poets and Heroes

The screams of horses and men filled the evening air with a chaos and horror ill-suited to the loveliness and quiet of the fading day. Two of the beasts faded away as they fell dead and the third trapped his master beneath his prone form. The trapped rider was himself uninjured save perhaps in the fall but several arrows had embedded themselves in his two companions and their fallen mounts; of the two, one lay unmoving and was likely dead, the other moved feebly but hope dawned as he caught the trapped man's eye. They stared at one another for a moment, the one with growing hope and the other with a rising fear. The crunch of oncoming feet suddenly drew their attention as their foes approached. His eyes pleading for help, the arrow stricken man suddenly threw some small object into the distant brush and glanced significantly from the now hidden object to his trapped companion whose eyes held reluctance and fear, but a minimal nod of his head brought the shadow of a smile to the stricken man's face before their enemies were upon them. A small band of vile looking men emerged from their ambush and looked about in delight at the carnage they had wrought. One of them turned over the unmoving man to reveal that nothing remained but a corpse.

Another approached the hopeful man and called out, "this one's alive and should suit our purposes well enough. Be done with him." One of the more vile of the company smiled in cruel anticipation, drew his sword as he approached, and finished that which the arrows had begun. His eyes widened momentarily in pain and then stared blankly as the sword was withdrawn from his unmoving chest. The whole group of them then approached the sole survivor yet trapped beneath his dead horse.

Said the leader of the repulsive band, "are you one of the Brethren then?"

The trapped man laughed mirthlessly, "I am simply an ill-fated poet who hoped to write the tale of some great heroic effort but alas, all I shall ever write is a lament to the foolishness of heroic quests if ever I write anything again."

"Yes or no," snarled the leader.

The poet winced at his tone and said, "I am not one of that fellowship."

The man grinned cruelly and asked, "then why do you ride with them?"

Taking on a professional air the poet said, "as I have already related I hoped to write a firsthand account of whatever adventure my late companions hoped to accomplish. I fell in with them not quite a week ago."

"You know nothing of their mission?" queried the leader in some amazement.

The poet sighed, "I only knew they were bound for Kyra on some desperate quest; I do not think even they knew their appointed task but hoped to find some contact upon our arrival."

The sinister man said, "how were they to make contact?"

The poet shrugged, "they took that secret to the grave."

The leader did not seem pleased, "then I have no further use for you." The poet nodded grimly as the sword was raised again but the leader suddenly laughed, "I however like the idea of a lament against all for which the Brethren stand. I will spare your life poet but only for the promise of your work. Write well, for if you do not it might well be the last thing you do. Search them and their luggage, then we ride for Kyra." The despots ransacked the living and the dead, but found nothing of interest. They vanished as quickly as they had come, leaving the trapped poet to somehow extract himself from beneath the dead horse. He painfully managed to pull himself from beneath his ill-fated mount, searched the vegetation concealing whatever it was his companion had hoped to hide, and finally discovered a small blue crystal cut in the shape of a star suspended from a satin ribbon of deepest blue. He looked over the trinket and wondered to whom it might belong and how he was to discover its keeper and his destiny.

He sighed, he was no hero. He sat heavily down upon the dead horse thinking about what had transpired in the last week to so utterly upset the course of his life. He had been a wandering poet who roamed from place to place and entertained as he could to keep his stomach full and a roof over his head. The commonfolk seemed to appreciate his efforts, at least enough that he did not starve. A week gone, the two adventurers had stumbled into the same inn where he was holding forth with his familiar evening oratory. They had listened appreciatively and once the night's entertainment was finished, invited him over to their table for a mug of ale and some much needed conversation. They had struck up a lively conversation, all three being of a quick and learned mind, and had stayed up long past the time all sensible men were in bed. He had asked after their own travels and their tales amused and amazed him. Whether it was the late hour or the wine, the poet never knew but he soon found himself asking if he might not accompany them on their adventure. They exchanged a curious look and finally agreed that he could come, but that there might come a time when they might suddenly have to part company. There was some hint of imminent danger and intrigue, but then no story was complete without such so the poet readily agreed.

So it was that he found himself riding with them to the Southern Realms towards the kingdom of Kyra whose monarchy was suddenly in disarray and from whence had come a desperate note and the trinket that he now held in his hand. No one knew who had sent it, but only that it must be presented to the guards at the castle gates in the great city of Yorka. The owner claimed that the very fate of the country might rest upon this quest and help was needed soon. Kipril shuddered, wondering what strange adventure he had now become a participant in. He looked upon his dead companions and his silent promise to the dying man echoed in his mind. He had ever been an observer of life, a recorder of its wonders and perils, never a participant and now it had been thrust upon him. He was ill-suited to such an adventure not having wielded a sword since his youth and then only poorly, but there was no one else to whom this adventure could fall. He must at least attempt it, if only for the sake of the imperiled people of Kyra. He sighed heavily, stood, and began to salvage what he could from the wreckage. He filled his saddlebags with food and supplies, took up his bow, and then glanced at his fallen companion's sword. He was perhaps not as skilled with the weapon as some, but it might be useful in his quest. Almost reverently, he took up the weapon for which his companion had no more mortal use. In the gathering dark, he took the road and hoped to put many miles between himself and the sorrow behind him.

Kipril awoke early and crawled from the small dell in which he had taken shelter for the night. He walked as fast and as far as he could that day, knowing full well that his quest was a hopeless one unless he soon acquired some swifter form of transportation. Evening was falling and the lights of an inn ahead drew his weary gaze. He felt that hope waited within, even if it were nothing more than an hour's repose from the weary and lonely road he walked. He took a seat, ordered a mug of a nameless brew, and glanced about at his fellow patrons. He saw nothing but farmers and merchants until his eyes fell upon a young woman just entering the inn. She was well dressed and moved like a cat, making him wonder if she were not some minor noble's daughter set out in search of adventure. Perhaps here was a chance to fob this foolish quest off upon someone else. She caught his gaze and curiosity drew her to the stranger's table. He bought her a mug of his own nameless ale and she asked, "whither is your road sir and what quest lays at its end?"

He laughed in spite of himself and said, "it seems I am not the only lonely adventurer upon the road. I am currently walking to Kyra as my mount and companions have fallen upon the way but I shall not make it in time at the pace I currently set. What of you fair lady?"

She smiled at his words and said, "I too am upon a noble quest though perhaps one far less dire. I ride for fabled Astoria and seek there to join the Brethren. Are you perhaps one of those storied knights who has ridden forth in noble pursuit?"

Kipril could not help but laugh, "lady, I am simply a wandering poet that has had unwanted adventure thrust upon him for there is none else to carry on the task which my late companions had begun. They were of that noble calling but alas they have fallen by the way."

She smiled curiously and said, "then at least your quest is a vital one and perhaps your heart nobler than you know. Perhaps I can aid those I hope to be my benefactors ere I ride to their country. If walking is too slow a pace, then let me lend you a horse upon the way."

Kipril smiled gratefully and said, "that would be a great ease to my journey but I am still unworthy of this task. I have a borrowed sword but little skill with it. Could I beg your aid as well for I see you are not yourself unarmed?"

She smiled gaily at him and said, "I was afraid you would turn me away for I am a woman, but I shall joyfully aid your task. What is it we must do?"

Kipril laughed, "I know almost as little as you but I shall gladly accept your company. I have only a token to show at the gates of the castle and there our adventure may perhaps begin."

Alia soon told her story of how her father, a minor noble, had given her the choice of a loveless marriage or taking her small inheritance and forever leaving his presence. She would not doom herself to such a grim fate and thus took her pittance and left behind all that she knew and loved. She had heard many strange tales of the Brethren in her youth and set out in search of the mysterious adventurers of song and story. She was eager to take part in a story of her own, even before ever she reached Astoria.

By common agreement they were saddled and upon the road ere the sun was up and it was not many days before their hurried pace brought them within the borders of Kyra and soon to the castle in the midst of the bustling city of Yorka. Kipril left Alia at an inn in the city that he might approach the gates alone. If he should not return, she was to make her own careful inquiries and if he discovered the nature of their adventure, he would swiftly return to tell the tale. Both knew well the cost of this errand might well be their lives, but Kipril pressed on out of duty and Alia in hopes of righting some wrong. The streets of Yorka were abuzz with the recent demise of the King in a hunting accident, the ascension of his brother to the throne, and the impending birth of the late King's child and hoped for heir. What part the dark men would play in the matter was yet to be seen. Kipril approached the castle gates and proffered the charm to the guards posted there. They eyed the trinket with some curiosity but could not decide if the man was trying to sell it or simply asking after its owner.

A servant stationed nearby however gasped and said, "this man must immediately accompany me." The guards glanced in wonder at the man who had silently stood watch for so many days and now finally spoke. They nodded grudgingly, but this was a personal servant to the Queen and not to be questioned nor gainsaid. They let the man pass and the servant led him deep into the castle to the private chambers whence the Queen had withdrawn to mourn her husband and await the birth of her child. It was she that had sent the urgent message and who now desperately awaited its answer.

Kipril was amazed to be presented before so distinguished a personage and was speechless for a moment as he made his bows. She smiled deeply and a glint of hope shone in her troubled eyes as she said, "so the Lady has sent my savior at last."

Kipril blushed crimson and studied his feet saying, "I am no hero lady but a simple wanderer who has taken up a quest whose true heroes have already fallen in its course. I will do what I can, but I am no warrior but a poet."

She nodded sadly and said, "then to you my brave poet will the duty fall. This then is my plea: if a male child should be born, to Astoria you must bear the infant in safety and secrecy, there to await the day when he can challenge his uncle for the throne of Kyra. For only a man can sit upon Kyra's throne and this child is the only one with a rightful claim save my brother-in-law who has already taken the title of King upon himself. He was ever jealous of my husband and his demise was no accident though such is claimed, and if an heir should be born my son will not live long past his birth. But should a girl child be born, she is no threat to his rule and we may depart in peace to my family's estates and he is forever free to rule Kyra as he sees fit."

"When is the child due?" asked Kipril awkwardly.

She smiled and said, "any day. I had hoped for your arrival sooner due to the legendary swiftness of unicorns but alas your mounts are mortal horses." As if in answer to his question a wince of pain crossed her face as she said, "perhaps even today!" The Queen winced again as she said, "I think that you arrived only just in time. Tonight will reveal whether your quest is a vain one."

Her ladies escorted her to her chambers, the midwife was fetched, and Kipril was left in the sitting room with a silent servant. The night passed slowly and only occasional sounds of pain and frustration came from the adjoining room to break the silent vigil. Finally the unmistakable cry of an infant was heard and not long after it was repeated. The midwife rushed out all in a flutter and beckoned in the man who had waited so long; the Queen wished to see him without delay. He made a rather flustered bow and she smiled tiredly at his discomfiture. She said, "twins!" He looked at her in anticipation as she continued, "a boy and a girl, of course the boy's birth shall remain an absolute secret and you shall bear him to safety until the appointed time. Are you ready to ride?"

He said, "I need only fetch my confederate and my luggage from a nearby inn and then we shall leave at once."

"Confederate?" asked the Queen.

Kipril said, "a young woman I met by chance upon the way who was on her way to Astoria and agreed to this slight detour."

The Queen smiled, "excellent, a man traveling with an infant would arouse suspicion. I do not think your encounter chance young man. Why did she not accompany you?"

Kirpril said, "this mad adventure has already cost two men their lives. I was concerned about pursuit and did not want both of us to fall afoul of some unknown foe ere we knew our errand. She remained behind in case something happened to me."

The Queen said, "you have acted wisely. Return to your inn, pack your things, and come to the small gate the servant shall show you as quickly as you can. Haste will ensure secrecy."

He bowed again, met the servant in the adjoining room, and followed him on a twisting path out of the castle. They emerged in a dark alley and the small door shut silently behind Kirpril as he dashed off in search of his inn. He had just stepped out into the main street abutting the alley when he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen. He clutched at the wound as his knees buckled and he fell to the ground in agony; the air was filled with strangely familiar and sinister laughter. The dark voice said, "I told you to leave well enough alone boy! This is the price of meddling in business not your own. Who did you meet within the castle and to what purpose?"

"That I shall never tell," groaned the stricken man.

"We shall see," snarled the sinister voice as the man dashed off to investigate where the meddler had been.

Kirpril struggled to his feet, holding his hand to his wounded side; he dashed off in a stumbling run towards the inn. Alia gasped when she saw who the ashen faced man was who nearly fainted as he entered the door of the inn. She had been speaking quietly with a man in the uniform of the Brethren. Both ran to aid the injured man on the verge of collapse. "What happened?" she gasped.

Kirpril glanced about nervously, "we must talk quickly and privately. There is no time." They wasted no time in helping him to sit on the edge of the bed in one of the guest rooms. Once they were alone he said, "as you know there are rumors about that the late King was murdered by his brother who made it look like a hunting accident. The Queen was concerned for the safety of her unborn child, should it be a boy and potential heir to the throne. If the child was a male, she wished one of the Brethren to carry him safely to Astoria to wait until he came of age to challenge his uncle for the throne. The Queen gave birth tonight to twins, a boy and a girl. She will withdraw quietly to her estates with the girl and waits for us to bear her son to safety. Alia, you must meet the servant at a small side gate and take the infant to Astoria."

"What about you?" whispered she.

Kipril drew back his tunic from the wound and said grimly, "I am in no condition to travel nor do I think I shall long survive this wound. One of the men who ambushed my late companions fell upon me as I was leaving the castle. He must have seen me go in and waited for me to come out. He attacked me, questioned me, and then ran off to see what I would not tell him. He will be on the watch so you must be careful."

The Brother spoke for the first time, "these are grim tidings indeed. I am the Lady's Advisor to the King, or I was until the new King banished me from the castle, save for court functions, which is why I now haunt this inn. The child must reach safety at all costs. Take my mount, he will bear you swiftly and safely to Astoria."

Alia's eyes were wide, "me ride a unicorn?"

The man nodded grimly, "I cannot accompany you for I am needed here and neither is your friend in any condition for such an adventure. It must be you. Go, and may the Master ride with you." She nodded grimly, bid farewell to her companions, and dashed from the room.

"Will she make it do you think?" asked Kipril of the other man. He only shook his head in wonder and helped make the stricken man as comfortable as he could.

Alia rode swiftly towards the small gate, astonished at the speed and silence of her mount. He was reluctant to so abandon his master but he knew this task was of the utmost importance. They arrived swiftly and nearly unseen for the unicorn had draped himself in darkness. Alia knocked upon the gate, it was opened by a cautious servant, she showed the crystal star as instructed, and soon received the child into her keeping along with those things that might prove his identity at the proper time. They dashed off together into the night bound for Astoria. Not far out of the city, the unicorn stopped and whinnied in fear but his master bid him run all the harder and he could not disobey. Some time after he screamed in rage and grief but continued on his course, faithful to his master's last command.

The dark man left his injured foe and ran off into the darkness to see from whence he had come. He could not yet gain access to the castle and could learn nothing more upon a second investigation. He dashed back to find his nemesis fled and followed quickly after. Not long after the girl had left, the dark man burst through the window of the room in which his quarry lay helpless upon the bed. He had not expected to find one of the Brethren within, but all the better. The two men whirled about in a dance of death and steel while Kipril watched wide-eyed from the bed. The two were fairly evenly matched and it was hard to tell who had the upper hand. The dark man snarled in glee as he clipped his opponent on the shoulder and knew his victory was assured, but in his moment of triumph he dropped his guard for a brief second allowing his foe to strike a mortal blow. The man fell to the floor laughing through his pain and panted, "you think you have won but neither of you will long survive me." He coughed a few times before succumbing to his wounds and then dissolved into an oily puddle on the floor.

The two survivors shared an astonished look and the Brother leant heavily upon the bedpost, clutching his injured shoulder and breathing heavily. Kipril asked in growing concern, "what is wrong? What did he mean you would not survive?"

The man said quietly through teeth clenched in pain, "I think there was some vile taint upon that blade of his and that it is quickly killing me. I doubt you will long survive me. That being the case, have you thought about what lies beyond death?"

Kipril stared at the man in astonishment, "you are nearer death than I and you want to talk philosophy?"

The man winced as he laughed and said, "I have no such worries but you might spend all eternity ruing these last few hours."

Kipril frowned, "you Brethren are all fanatics on this topic. I suppose if this Master of yours does exist then I have naught to fear. I have lived a good life, or as good as any man could in my circumstances. Besides, I have gotten myself killed on his behalf, for which I think he owes me much."

The dying man's breathing was ragged and darkness was ever on the brink of overcoming him, but he fought against it saying, "with an attitude like that you are sure to spend an eternity apart from the Master and thus in utter darkness and despair. The Master is no man with whom you can bargain in the market place. He owes mortal man nothing. We are all rebels against his perfect way and we all justly deserve condemnation. Our best efforts are nothing to him. What can any mortal do that could impress or indebt the One who made us."

"Then we are all doomed?" asked the skeptical Kipril.

The man was fading fast but said, "the price of rebellion is death, but the Master took that penalty upon himself to spare us if only we will accept his sacrifice on our behalf. He need not have known death, but he suffered death for us."

"What must I do?" asked the stunned Kipril.

With his last breath the man said, "believe, trust, and give yourself utterly to him." He toppled over and moved no more, leaving Kipril alone to contemplate eternity.

These Brethren were mad, absolutely mad! He had now seen three of them die for no good cause. Could they be right? In all the excitement he had forgotten about his own wound and now remembrance came crashing agonizingly back to the front of his mind. He was deathly weak and each breath became more and more a struggle. He glanced desperately at the dead man and idly wondered how long before he himself was naught but a corpse. His mind returned to those uneasy things of which the dying man had spoken. All his life he had heard the tales of the Master but had never felt inclined to think of them as more than just stories. What if there was something beyond humanity? Beyond death? It certainly made sense but how to know what was truly out there? He glanced again at the dead man and remembered how certain he had been even to the point of being able to proselytize upon the brink of death. Worse, his own heart seemed to tell him that here was the truth he had ignored all these years. His mind protested not wanting to admit that up until this moment perhaps his life truly had been lived in vain. The weariness deepened and darkness gnawed at the corners of his vision; the maw of eternity gaped before him and yet he wanted to protest, drag his feet, and hesitate.

Finally, the moments running out, he gasped, "I do not know you but I know I need you. Forgive my rebellion, my ignorance, and my hesitation. I have nothing to offer, but I am yours to use as you will."

A voice like echoed thunder said quietly beside him, "I certainly shall."

Alia rode swiftly to Astoria, her heart near to breaking for her fallen companions. The infant traveled well for one so new to the world and she wondered what hope rested upon the shoulders of one so small and innocent. The unicorn revealed his true form as they ran through the streets of Astoria that none might bar their way. The guards upon the castle gates watched curiously but allowed the strange woman to pass unhindered. It was not often that one not of the Brethren ever rode upon the back of so legendary a creature. They gaped even more to see the stranger clutching a very young child to her breast. She slid from the saddle and glanced about in near desperation, "I must see your Lady immediately concerning happenings in Kyra."

A servant ran immediately to ask after the Lady's availability and returned swiftly to lead the strange young woman to stand before their legendary leader. Alia told her story and presented the child and his accessories to the astonished Lady who replied, "these are certainly tragic tidings and we shall tend to the child as his mother wishes. Now what of you my dear? You who have traveled so far and risked so much; what is your part in this tale?" The infant was given into the care of a childless woman and her husband who were delighted to have such a charge. Alia was finally able to realize her goal of joining the Brethren.

The years passed and the child grew into a boy verging on manhood. For ten years, he grew up quietly at home thinking no more of himself than any other peasant's son. At ten years of age he was allowed to go to Astoria to further his education with the renowned knowledge and teaching skills of the Brethren. At fifteen, he was convinced he wanted to become one of them. He stood before the Lady that day, nervous but hopeful to have his request granted. She looked at him quietly for a few moments and a small sadness seemed to flit through her eyes for a moment but was soon replaced with dead seriousness. She said, "Ian, I cannot grant that which you ask."

He gaped and without thinking asked, "what have I done or not done that you will not allow me to join you?"

She smiled and said gently, "it is nothing of your doing but concerns a greater duty you must first fulfill." He looked at her in absolute confusion as she continued, "as you are well aware, the Brethren cannot rule even a city, let alone a country save perhaps the Lady of Astoria. You cannot take your Oath because you are the rightful heir to the throne of Kyra and the time has come for you to journey thither and claim your birthright." He looked at her as if she had gone mad.

She continued, "your father, the former King of Kyra was killed upon a hunting foray and many suspect his brother in the crime. Your uncle now rules Kyra with an iron fist and oppresses your people severely. Your father died before your birth and your mother feared for your life so sent you hence that you might grow up in safety. Your twin sister and mother yet reside upon your family estates in Kyra. Nothing is known to anyone outside the Brethren and a few faithful servants of your existence. My hope, and the hope of all Kyra, is that you return to the land of your birth and claim the throne that is rightfully yours and rule your people more justly than their current King. This is why I must deny you the Oath."

He gaped at her and finally said, "I understand and know I must take this quest upon myself if only for the sake of the suffering Kyrans, but how am I, a mere boy to challenge a King?"

The Lady smiled warmly, "I will send several of the Brethren with you along with certain proofs of your valid claim to the throne. You must know this is a very dangerous quest; four men and two unicorns have already died in the events surrounding your birth. The King has many dangerous servants and advisors who will aid him in thwarting your efforts at all costs."

Ian bowed deeply and said, "it is a risk I must take. What if I fail?"

The Lady smiled, "short of death I do not think you shall fail."

He smiled weakly, "my only regret is not being able to serve you as one of the Brethren."

She smiled warmly and said, "if you survive this ordeal and still have the interest in sixty years or so after you have passed your reign onto your children, I see no reason why you cannot yet join the Brethren." He smiled deeply at her sincerity and wondered if his zeal could be so strong as to last six decades.

Alia and three others were dispatched to accompany the aspiring prince to Kyra. He carried with him a letter written by his mother and sealed with the royal signet ring, the crystal star charm, and his late father's sword. It was early autumn and the weather was perfect for travel; the party made excellent progress and was soon nearing the borders of Kyra. It was at this point in their travels that Ian felt the adventure was about to begin; until now, he had been in a blissful half-dream but now was not the time for childish fancies when the fate of a nation rested upon his very inadequate shoulders. It was late afternoon and the sun had set all the world afire in shades of richest gold when a lone traveler approached the party upon the road. He drew rein and waited patiently for the party to approach.

One of the men asked as they drew nigh, "why do you bar our way stranger."

The stranger suppressed a smile of secret amusement and said, "I do not bar your path but simply wish to join your party. I have come to aid you in your endeavors."

The Brother laughed, "and what could you know of our errand?"

The stranger replied, "I have come to see finished the errand I began fifteen years ago."

"And what errand would that be stranger?" asked the Brother cautiously.

The man smiled sheepishly and said, "to see a proper King restored to Kyra."

"What part did you play in that sad tale," asked the Brother in confusion, "I thought there were none living, save those in our party, to finish what was begun so long ago."

"Alia can testify to my involvement," said the man strangely.

All the while, Alia had been staring at the stranger in astonishment and could not quite believe her eyes. With his statement she said in doubt and horror, "Kipril? Is it truly you? I thought you long dead! What became of the Advisor to the King, his mount certainly felt him die."

Kipril glanced towards the ground and then ruefully met her astonished gaze, "you know me for truly myself. Not long after you left, my attacker came to finish me only to find me not alone. They fought, the sinister man was killed, and my valiant protector did not long survive him. I was on the brink of death when I finally realized sense and surrendered my life, failing as it was, to the Master. The Master himself was in that room and took me at my word. He healed my wound and set me immediately upon this task. To you it has been fifteen years; to me it has been only a few minutes! I do not know what shall become of me once all is ended. I may perhaps live on for years or I might fall to dust the moment the King is crowned. At least my life will not have been lived completely in vain."

The little company stared at him in astonishment, but the Brethren knew he spoke truly no matter how hard it was to believe. Alia smiled at her long lost friend and said, "then welcome back my friend. What counsel can you give us about matters in Kyra?"

Kipril said, "as you know, the King is a vile tyrant and sorely tries his people. What you may not know is that the men behind the deaths of three of your comrades fifteen years ago secretly aid and advise the King. The Queen and her daughter still live quietly in the country but the King has his eye on the girl as a prospective bride for his own son and heir. I suggest we break into two parties. Alia, the boy, and I shall ride to the former Queen's estates and the rest of you shall ride to Yorka and assess the situation there. We shall meet you as soon as we have apprised the Queen of her son's return." The others quickly agreed and they set off immediately for their assigned destinations.

As Alia and her companions made camp that night, Ian asked, "how can this be?"

Alia laughed, "how can you have spent so many years among the Brethren and not believe in miracles?"

Ian smiled ruefully, "I suppose I do but I thought they only ever happened to other people. The Master truly does work in wonderful and mysterious ways!"

They rode on, avoided the patrols once they crossed into Kyra, and soon found themselves upon the Queen's estates. Alia presented the star trinket to the guards at the great gates before the ancient house and a servant was quickly sent to inquire after the Queen. The astonished servant quickly returned and ushered the strangers into his lady's presence. All three bowed and the aging woman stared in wonder and joy at her long sundered son. Finally each found the courage to embrace and a quick round of wondering questions and excited chatter followed.

After Ian met his sister and mother and all their curiosity and joy had momentarily been satisfied Alia asked, "how go things in Kyra? Are they as bad as we have heard? Any idea how the boy is to retake the throne?"

The queen said, "things are bad enough, especially for the commoners. In usual circumstances, Ian would present himself to the royal lawyers who would then decide whether he was the legal heir to the throne, but these are far from usual circumstances. I fear his uncle will kill him regardless."

Kipril said, "I think secrecy will not avail us. Let us present ourselves before the entire court that a knife in the dark will not end all their worries. With enough witnesses perhaps the King will step down as he rightfully should. If he will not, then we will do what we must. He may challenge you to a duel for the crown and I am sure there will be treachery in the mix."

Ian said firmly, "I will do what I must."

They all agreed to the sketchy plan and the three set off at once with the Queen to follow after with the intent of attending court on the following evening when Ian would make his claims. They reached Yorka the following morning and met with the three that had gone ahead who agreed completely with their suppositions. The Brethren could not take the throne by force, but neither could the current King legally deny the claims of his nephew. His only recourse would be to have the upstart murdered, a dangerous task since all the city would soon know of the challenge to his throne or to challenge him to and best him in a duel.

The servants of evil had not been lax these many years either. They had a spy in the midst of the Queen's servants and the moment he saw the star trinket he knew the game was afoot. He made his way to the city and swiftly reported his suspicions to his dark masters. So it was when the young renegade came to make his claims, the King and his sinister advisors were not taken unawares. They could have barred the youth an audience but then he would have made a scene in the street. He was too well protected to be silently murdered and it would be good to show the court exactly how such rebels were dealt with. The King actually looked forward to the confrontation and his associates would make sure that he was the victor. As expected, he made his appearance at court the following evening.

There was much gossip amongst the bystanders as the King had allowed word of the imposter to be spread abroad. Alia, Kipril, and his mother accompanied him to stand before the King; the rest of the Brethren spread out to make sure no ambush was imminent. Ian said in a voice for all to hear, "I hereby lay claim to the throne of Kyra held unjustly these fifteen years by the murderer of my father."

The King laughed, "have you any proof boy that I killed your father or that you are even the late King's son?"

Ian stood his ground and said, "I have no proof you murdered my father save the certainty in my heart. But I have ample proof I am the son of the late King." He proffered his proofs and the royal lawyers examined the documents and artifacts for authenticity.

The King said, "I thought this woman bore a girl child."

The former Queen spoke, "I gave birth to twins that night. The boy was safely hidden until he was of an age to claim his birthright."

The King scoffed, "a likely story, you simply found a youth of the correct age and indoctrinated him."

Alia spoke, "nay Sire, it was I that bore this very child to Astoria fifteen years ago. Know by the Oath that it is true."

The King looked to the lawyers, "well?"

They nodded grimly, "the artifacts and proofs seem to be quite real. Can anyone bear testimony to the Queen's story?"

An aged woman emerged from the crowd and the ancient midwife said, "she speaks truly. I was there when she gave birth and delivered a boy and a girl that night."

"Very well," said the King in much glee, "who is to say that you are the legal heir to the throne? Why must I vacate that which is lawfully mine?"

Alia spoke, "Kyran law states that in the presence of an immature heir, a Steward may be appointed until the boy is of age at which point he will assume the throne. Your reign is legally at an end. You are also accused of gaining the throne through treacherous means which would also nullify your right to reign."

"You have no proof," snarled the King, "and I will not relinquish the throne to this no name upstart. If he wants the throne he must step over my dead body to gain it; I challenge him to a duel."

Ian looked concerned, "must I fight him?"

The royal lawyers looked grim, "under these circumstances it would violate all our customs not to. You have no legal requirements as such, but the people would not respect you if you declined. I also think your uncle would prove a dangerous enemy were he allowed to live."

The King gave him a dangerous look and the lawyer replied, "I was only stating the obvious Sire, no insult was meant on your behalf."

The King glared at his nephew, "well?"

The boy drew his sword in answer, the audience drew back to give them room to fight, and the King grinned as he drew his own blade and approached the boy. The lawyer intoned in a dreary voice for what seemed a decade the various rules before allowing the combatants to bow and face one another. The boy was young but skilled, the old man experienced but out of practice. They whirled about in a deadly dance while the dark aides of the King drew their own weapons to aid the King by treachery should such be necessary. The Brethren held their own swords at the ready seeing what the sinister men intended. It was the stamina of the younger man that won the day as his weary uncle knelt before him with chest heaving wildly for air. He mocked between breathes, "finish me boy or they shall think you too weak to rule."

The boy shook his head, "no, you shall stand trial for my father's murder. I will not make you a martyr or give you the honor of a swift death."

At that moment, the sinister men in the crowd made to fall upon the boy but were met by an equal number of the Brethren. The King seeing his future looking bleak and his treacherous friends fighting for their lives, lunged forward with sword drawn upon the distracted boy. The blade buried itself deeply in Kipril's chest as he leapt between Ian and his murderous uncle. Seeing his own doom near to hand, the vile King took his own life rather than losing it justly to the headsman. His vile henchmen did likewise rather than reveal their sinister allegiance.

The court was in uproar and confusion until the Brethren and heir apparent finally managed to calm them. No one understood why the dark men had dissolved into an oily puddle of goo upon death but the matter was soon forgotten as the lawyers proclaimed Ian the rightful heir to the throne now that his uncle was most certainly dead. Some of the more treacherous nobles made to sneak out but the Brethren barred their way until the new King could deal with them justly.

Ian stared down in dismay at Kipril's shattered form, "I should be the one lying dead."

Alia put a reassuring hand upon his back and smiled sadly at her fallen friend, "he was already assumed dead in your service Sire; it just happened a little later than we all thought. He knew well his duty and carried it out faithfully. We can all only hope to die so nobly. We will mourn a little, but grief should not be our constant companion, for we shall meet again beyond time if we remain faithful until the end ourselves." The King was crowned and ruled his people justly for many years and once his own son was well established upon the throne, Ian quietly vanished and only his nearest kin and the Brethren knew what became of him after. The poet who thought himself no hero lived on in song and story long after Kyra itself had passed out of memory.

### The Greylands: Volume I

Published by Susan Skylark at Smashwords

Copyright 2013 Susan Skylark

Revised 2014

Table of Contents:

Beyond the Mountains

The Road:

Part I

Part II

Part III

### Author's Note: Though themes and names may be similar, there is no relationship between the following stories. Each is independent and stands alone.

Beyond the Mountains:

"Are you sure about this?" gasped Bayard, trying desperately to stay aback the trotting horse; he was not used to riding and the animal had a trot rough enough to unseat an experienced rider.

"Certainly not!" laughed Tyne, having a much easier time astride his well-bred gelding and far more used to riding than his awkward friend.

"Then why are we going?" asked Bayard, coming alongside his amused companion who could not help but laugh at Bayard's desperate attempt to stay horsed.

Gaining some control over himself, Tyne replied, "would you rather stay home and follow a plow around all your life with all the rewards of your labor going to another man or worse, fall victim to the Blackguard or anyone else who sees fit to plunder or kidnap those too weak to defend themselves?"

Bayard sighed, "I see your point of course, but what are we to find upon the road but perhaps worse than your slavers and the Blackguard? Besides, your father seems to do quite well, at least when it comes to keeping more of the fruits of his labor than the rest of us."

Tyne sighed, "he has always been able to toady up to the Lord and is thus allowed a few privileges."

Bayard laughed, "which is why you are riding a real horse and I am stuck with this ox!" Tyne could not help but join in his friend's mirth. He did not know what waited upon their road but only that he felt as if he could no longer stay at home. They certainly might meet a tragic end but there was also a chance that they might find a brighter horizon where endless toil and fear were not an assumed part of life. The Lord that oversaw their particular part of the world was by no means the most tyrannical of his class, but he did not leave the peasants much to live on after he had claimed his share.

In this unsettled part of the world no one dared resist the Blackguard, who rode in and took whatever and whomever they pleased. It was also rumored that there were darker and more dangerous creatures abroad in service to the Dark Prince, and none dared speak against him or his minions in the open air for fear that even the birds and the trees might carry the tale to the wrong ears; the results of which were inevitably fatal to the speaker and all his immediate kin. As peasant boys nearing manhood, Bayard and Tyne were expected to continue as their fathers had in tilling the soil and paying tribute to their local lord. Their other option was to become soldiers serving some lord, king, or other power in the wide world. Or they could pack their meager belongings, leave home, and hope to find adventure and riches upon the road while all their nearest relations could only shake their heads in wonder. They had chosen the latter though they knew little of the world, save that it was a dark and dangerous place.

There were many Kingdoms scattered across the vast expanse of the known world but also much wildland, unclaimed by any sovereign but haunted by those who wished not be found. Though each Kingdom had its own sitting monarch, there was a power that none dared challenge. Far to the south dwelt the Dark Prince in his wasted lands and throughout all the lands of men his servants rode far and wide, doing as they pleased with lesser men and ever on some errand for their dark master. Some said the Dark Prince was not even human, but those that did knew not what else he could be. The reigning kings allowed his servants to do as they pleased and none hindered them, for fear of their master's wrath falling upon them.

It was a broad and strange world, peopled by all manner of men and creatures. Some whispered of those that opposed the Dark Prince and his minions, but most thought it hearsay, for who would dare oppose his Dread Majesty, or rather who would oppose him and live to tell about it? There were the usual wars and tyrannies that one man or country might inflict upon another throughout the world, as is only common in the lands of men. Rumors abounded of strange and dangerous folk and creatures lurking in the wild places of the world; most of the stories held that they were unfriendly to men and not to be trusted. There were certainly human predators abroad: bandits who preyed upon any foolish enough to wander far from the confines of civilization. All in all, it was a dangerous world with little of hope or peace known to most of its inhabitants. What was the point of living many wondered, if it were only to suffer and then to die? But most feared death more than even the most wretched existence but could not say why. The boys hoped not only to find a brighter future upon the road but also a purpose for living.

The Dark Prince and his minions were a reality known and feared by all, but there were also legends of another sort in the world. It was said that somewhere, beyond the Sea, dwelt the Great King who had once ruled over the Greylands, as the mortal world was called, but over which the Dark Prince now held dominion. Some actually believe the legend that the King would one day return and take back that which was rightfully His. Some even claimed that the King was something much greater than a man and was the only hope for floundering humanity. Of course the Dark Prince and his servants strongly denounced such a view and severely punished any who thought otherwise. According to their opinion, there was no hope for humanity, only the long, weary march into endless night.

Bayard hoped to learn more of these legends upon their road; Tyne only hoped to avoid the notice of the Blackguard and the other dangers of the road. They rode on until the light began to fail and they found a secluded place to camp not far from the road. The lights of a village twinkled in the distance and the intrepid pair left their well hidden camp to see what wonders it might hold, for neither had ever been farther from home than their own humble village. They quickly found the inn and made their way to a table at the far back of the common room to take in the happenings of the evening. Back home, their mothers would never have let them sit in a common room at such an hour, thinking it quite improper; their fathers would expect them to be hard at work if there was any light left and sleeping if there were not.

The dimly lit room was filled mostly with local craftsmen and farmers along with a fair collection of merchants and other travelers. The innkeeper eyed them suspiciously, especially because they had not even bought a drink. Their stomachs were empty but they had not coin enough to spare for such a luxury as a hot meal in such a place. They lingered for another half hour but no one seemed overly interested in talking with a pair of penniless peasant children and nothing at all interesting seemed to be happening this evening. So much for the excitement of the local tavern! They crept back to their little dell, ate from the small store of food their mothers had sent with them, and were soon asleep. Both were eager to talk of their coming adventures but neither had the energy after such an expedition to which they were so new. Morning came early and wet as it usually does in the spring. They refreshed themselves in a nearby creek, ate a bit, and were soon on their way.

"Where is it we are going?" asked Bayard as they rode along. His muscles ached terribly from yesterday's ride and sleeping rough had not improved matters, but he tried to hide it as best he could. Tyne was nearly as sore but also as reluctant to show his discomfort.

"I am not sure exactly," said Tyne, "though north is probably a good direction, as I have no wish to visit the southlands and get any nearer the Dark Prince." Bayard nodded in agreement. The further south one rode, the more notorious was the country until at last one arrived in the Withered Lands where the Dark Prince ruled and from which no living man had ever been known to return unchanged.

"What do you think about the Mountains of Shadow?" asked Tyne, trying to hide his excitement.

"You are not serious?" gasped Bayard, "they are nearly as notorious as the Blighted Lands! What makes you want to go there?"

Tyne smiled sheepishly, "and who said I had any interest in going thence?" Bayard raised a suspicious eyebrow and Tyne laughed, "all right I admit it, but can you think of a more mysterious place? Besides, it is as far away from the south of the world as one can get without falling into the Sea! I know they say all manner of horrible things lurk in the passes, but they are certainly less dangerous than the servants of the Dark Lord. Some even say there is some great treasure to be found beyond those sinister peaks. Do you have any better ideas?"

Bayard sighed, "perhaps you are right? I supposed we can at least learn more about them as we travel and north is as good a direction as any, at least for now. We can always change our mind. They are certainly as notorious in story as the south of the world, but never are they portrayed as altogether evil as is the realm of the Dark Prince. Besides, if there is some chance at wealth or fame, I am certainly amenable to taking such a risk."

They rode on for several days before they finally found someone with time to talk to two strange boys. They found a grizzled old man making his way steadily along the road just leaving the village they were about to enter; he seemed rather amused that the wayfarers would stoop to talk to such as he. "Where are you bound lads?" asked the man in a voice rich in warmth and humor.

Bayard slid from his saddle and said, "we are currently riding north and think perhaps to explore deeper the mystery of the Mountains of Shadow. Know you anything of them?"

The man looked them over carefully and said, "I know an old tale or two about those peaks but whatever would make you wish to go thither?"

Tyne said defensively, "they say there is a great treasure upon the far side and that is the reason we are upon this road: to get rich!"

The old man smiled thoughtfully, "well then you will never gain your heart's desire in those wretched mountains. There is a treasure indeed beyond their lofty heads but not for such as we. The further slopes are said ever to be bathed in the light that emanates from the Lands Beyond the Sea where dwells the Great King and all his servants. It is said no mortal eye has ever glimpsed those blessed shores nor can any man cross the peaks and hope to live."

Bayard said in confusion, "how then are we to make our fortune?"

The old man laughed gently, "there are more important things in this world child than power and riches. Seek the King and you will be a far richer man than any king sitting in his halls of cold marble."

"Which King?" asked Tyne suspiciously.

The old man laughed, "why the Great King young man. Who else? You do not believe a word I say do you?"

Tyne said skeptically, "I at least had assumed this King of yours to be as much a legend as all the other tales that are common to men. What has this King to do with me even if he does exist? How can an old man ruling beyond a distant sea have anything to do with the Greylands?"

The old man smiled and said, "a hard concept until you consider that the King is no more a man than the Dark Prince."

Bayard said, "what then are they?"

The man continued, "it is said that the Great King was before anything: the world, people, time, everything. 'Twas He that brought Everything into being. The Dark Prince was once the Great King's greatest servant, until he rebelled against his rightful lord and claimed dominion over these Greylands. It is also whispered that these lands did not always lie under the shadow of sorrow and death but were once perfect and full of joy and peace. But the forefathers of men, at the urging of the Dark Prince, rebelled against the King and cast all the world into shadow and death. We yet linger in the shadows as it were, until the King again returns to claim all that is His by right."

"But why is it his by right?" demanded Tyne.

The old man said, "He made it and all within and beyond that which we call reality."

Bayard gasped, "then why did he not just destroy his enemies and take back that which was his?"

"An excellent question lad," said the old man, "but one to which I can give but poor answer. They say that the Great King wishes that even the most rebellious of his former subjects would repent of their evil and return to their true master. He could have easily destroyed everything and begun anew, but His patience and love is greater than any mere mortal can comprehend, but His patience is not infinite for He has promised to return and cast all such rebels forever into the Blighted Lands."

Bayard was quite pale, "rebels? Are we not then all rebels against such a wondrous King?"

The old man smiled sadly, "that we are boy, that we are."

Tyne said stiffly, "then we are all of us doomed if this tale of yours is true?"

"Not quite," said the old man, "there is yet hope. As I said, the King wishes all of His children to come to Him willingly. If we humble ourselves before Him, seek His forgiveness for all the evils we have wrought, and fervently seek His will and live as He would have us, we have nothing to fear."

Tyne sneered, "what if I want nothing to do with this King of yours or remain skeptical as to the verity of his existence?"

The old man said, "then you and all with such hearts will one day find themselves forever lost in the Bleak Lands either upon death or at the return of the True King."

"I do not understand," said Bayard quietly, "what manner of King is this? How can He love such creatures as men? Are not all such lords tyrants and despots?"

Tyne snorted, "he seems despot enough for me."

The old man smiled, "no mortal mind can fully wrap itself around such an idea even with long study and acquaintance, but you do come to understand more with time and learning. Now what of your endeavor to climb the peaks?"

Tyne laughed, "your myths will not dissuade me old man. I will seek my fortune wherever it pleases me."

Bayard said, "you say the Bright Lands lie beyond the northern sea which is beyond the mountains? I have a great urge to see that bright shore for myself."

The old man said to Bayard, "perhaps with such a sentiment you may find what you seek if you attempt the mountains, but I fear your friend will only find his doom."

Tyne laughed derisively, "and what would you know of the matter old man? Have you ever even seen those mountains?"

The old man smiled, "no, but I have heard enough about them to never take such a journey lightly. Some say a man of true heart may find what he seeks in those passes so riddled with death but that a man of selfish intent shall only find his doom."

"I have heard enough of this old fool's prattling, are you coming Bayard?" sneered Tyne as he turned his horse and rode towards the village.

The old man said to Bayard as he mounted, "I fear greatly for your friend even if you do not attempt the mountains but all is certainly lost if he does with such a heart."

"What am I to do?" asked the concerned Bayard.

The old man winked, "follow your heart, seek the King, and He will give you strength and direction." Bayard gave the old man a thankful grin as he rode off after Tyne.

"Complete nonsense!" laughed Tyne as Bayard hurried to catch up, "do not tell me you believe anything that old coot said."

Bayard shrugged, "some of his words stirred restless thoughts in my heart and mind. I find the whole idea intriguing! To think that perhaps man is not simply alone and forsaken to the darkness. That there is hope to be found and a purpose to living."

Tyne shook his head in exasperation, "come back to reality Bayard! You sound as crazed as that old man. I still intend to face the mountains despite his warnings, perhaps more so because of them."

Bayard said, "I long for that forbidden shore. I will go with you but I would heed well the old man's warnings were I you. He does not seem a fool or one to spout idle words."

Tyne's only reply was to laugh mockingly at his friend. They passed through the village and continued down the road, lost in the silence of their own wondering thoughts. They did not see the raven that ghosted silently behind them as they rode nor the arrow that felled the dark bird from the sky before it could pass along word of what it had observed to its fell masters. They found another place to camp and silently prepared for the night. As they sat about their fire, still lost in thought, though Tyne was partly silent out of his irritation with Bayard for believing the old man's nonsense, two strangers entered the light of the fire. The boys each reached for the daggers they carried but soon realized a knife would not avail them against two men armed with swords. However, the weapons remained safely in their sheaths and the men politely asked if they could join the boys.

Bayard nodded eagerly, seeing something he liked or trusted in the face or manner of the two men. Tyne shrugged and figured the men would do as they pleased regardless. Said the first, "it is not often we see two boys wandering in the wide world alone and unarmed. From whence do you come and whither are you bound?"

Bayard said, "we come from a tiny village nearly a week's ride to the south and our current goal is the Northern Mountains. However, we know little of the wide world and would be most grateful for any advice."

"What is it you seek?" asked the second.

Tyne said, "who is it that wants to know?"

The first smiled, "it is wise to be wary in these dark days and drear lands. Fear not, we wish you no harm and hope only to aid you on your quest, whatever it be."

Bayard said, "I am not sure what it is I seek. I once thought it was renown or wealth or power but now all seems but dross in my eyes."

Tyne said, "my foolish friend has lost his vision but I still seek that which he has forsaken."

The first said, "those mountains are not to be traveled lightly. Few that cross into them ever come out alive, for all manner of strange and wild folk and even stranger beasts inhabit those peaks. But it is said that those who are willing to risk life and limb to find what lies beyond the mountains may truly find what they seek even if they succumb to the perils of the mountains. But it is also said that those who come looking for temporal gain shall find only death, even if they survive."

Tyne laughed, "you sound like that crazed old man. What treasure is hidden in those peaks that must be so well guarded even in myth and legend to keep men from coming to steal it away in droves? And what is it that lies beyond the mountains?"

The second said, "you should listen more closely to your 'crazed old man,' for he speaks wisdom. A great and wondrous Sea lies beyond the mountains and beyond that are the Bright Lands which no mortal eye has ever glimpsed. If you wish to serve the King with all your heart and venture into the heights, you may find your heart's desire but those seeking only selfish gain ever only find death."

Tyne growled, "I suggest that both of you go find your own place to sleep. You have wearied me as much as that old man with your mythic blathering."

The pair exchanged an unreadable look and the first man said, "as you wish it, though it would be wise to heed our words. Twice this day you have been warned."

They vanished again into the night as suddenly as they had come, leaving Tyne to laugh himself to sleep and Bayard to wonder what it was he was actually seeking. The following morning Tyne was in a delightful mood though it would sour slightly each time he thought about the strangers of the previous day and their inane warnings. He confronted Bayard, "are you still convinced these fools speak truly? I think they only pass along hearsay and are nothing more than gossip mongers. I will still let you accompany me into the mountains but please spare me the tedium of such talk as we had to endure yesterday. If you want to believe that drivel, that is your choice, but I do not wish to share in your delight."

Bayard smiled sadly and said, "as you wish it. How long do you think until we reach the mountains?"

Tyne shrugged, "I have no idea. I hope before our food runs out."

They saddled their horses and were soon on their way. They spoke no more of the strange warnings of the previous day and again fell into the easy friendship they had enjoyed since childhood. As they traveled north, the horizon was soon dominated by what must be those distant peaks. First they were little more than a dark line in the distance but with each passing mile they grew steadily larger until finally they stood among the foothills and the peaks dominated the sky. The intrepid pair had had no further incidents or adventures along the way and were quite eager to begin the ascent, though their food was nearly spent and the dire warnings were not completely forgotten.

A little path wound deeper into the hills and near a slanting signpost, stood a man with stooping shoulders and a voluminous beard. He greeted the travelers warmly and asked, "do you dare the mountains my lads? I must warn you that it is certain death to go much beyond this point. If you do not fall afoul of the elves and wild beasts, there are stranger and more deadly evils lurking in the heights. It is said that even if one survives the climb to the peak, none can hope to live to see the other side, for even the air itself turns against mortal men at such a height."

Tyne laughed, "you sound as farcical as every other man who has said as much. What is so important that men would be willing to die in the attempt to claim it and that such legends have grown up around it?"

The man said, "why the very meaning and purpose of life itself! The answers to all the questions of the universe. All hope, all beauty, all peace, all joy! But such is not to be revealed to mortal man. Those that venture forth trusting in the King have nothing to fear though death take them. All others shall forever be lost."

"Why would that matter in the least?" asked the mystified Tyne.

The little man smirked, "for when one courts death it is good to know where one shall reside thereafter."

Tyne snorted derisively but said nothing in reply. He turned to Bayard, "well?"

Bayard smiled, "I am quite eager to try this path but you might wish to reconsider, as not just one but four have now warned us of what lies ahead."

Tyne sighed, "I am no coward. Let us away while the daylight lasts and may we swiftly forget the ramblings of this maniac and all his ilk! I will see what legends truly lurk in those heights and no midget shall hinder me."

Bayard exchanged a concerned look with the friendly man who shook his head sadly. Without another word they took to their saddles and resumed their northward journey. The day soon began to fail and they found a place to camp not far from the road. They debated about a fire as it might draw unwanted attention to themselves by the fairyfolk that were rumored to live in these hills but it also might keep the lesser beasts at bay. Finally they built the fire, thinking it far better to face a sapient foe than to fall victim to a mindless beast alone in the dark. They sat quietly around the fire until Tyne mused, "what do you think really lies beyond? What have they gone to so much trouble to conceal?"

Bayard smiled, "can you not take these men at their word? I know to the very core of my being that they speak truth. If they are right, you face not only mortal death but eternal darkness as well."

"Me?" scoffed Tyne, "why must I face such things alone? Are you going to abandon me at the end then or have you given in to the nonsense spouted by lesser men?"

Bayard said, "I shall remain true no matter what befalls us but yes, I believe these men and make the ascent in hopes of serving the King."

Tyne laughed coldly, "certainly a strange way of finding servants I think. At least I shall die a free man."

Bayard said quietly, "none of us are free men. We live either to serve the King or the Dark Lord, only in service to the King is true freedom."

Tyne snorted, "you sound like that blighted old man! Where did this outburst come from?"

Bayard smiled sheepishly, "I do not know but I know it true."

Tyne could only shake his head in amazement and roll over to find what sleep he could. Bayard lay awake long into the night, pleading with the darkness that perhaps his friend's heart might also be touched before it was too late. He knew in his heart that neither of them would remain unchanged from this journey. Morning came and they moved higher into the mountains; the forest grew close and thick about them and the path became narrower, steeper, and harder to find. Finally they were forced to leave the horses and make the ascent afoot. The sun was hot upon their backs and the insects buzzed incessantly in their ears in their insatiable thirst for blood. They emerged from the woods and stood on a rocky outcropping on the edge of a cliff that dropped sharply two hundred feet to a narrow valley below. The trees marched on endlessly up the slope until they vanished into a low cloud that had engulfed the entire top of the mountain. They sat down on two great stones that jutted from the earth to rest, though the sun was fierce and the insects fiercer.

Suddenly they stood upon hearing movement among the trees and the slight crunch of rock beneath a booted foot. The two boys exchanged a frightened look and reached for their knives, knowing there was little they could do against anyone or anything that might wish them harm. The noise grew louder among the trees they had just left and Bayard backed towards the edge of the cliff, hoping that with it at his back at least attack could not come from behind. He need not have worried about attack from behind for there was danger enough before him. A bowstring snapped and the arrow took Bayard in the chest; his eyes widened in pain and surprise for a moment but then he vanished over the precipice.

Tyne ran to the edge to see what had become of his friend. He lay unmoving at the bottom of the gorge with his neck and body bent at angles no living man could endure. He stood quickly, knowing there was nothing to be done for Bayard and faced again their hidden foes but suddenly a great shadow blocked out the sun and a great shriek filled his ears. There came terrified shouting in an unknown language and the sound of fleeing feet from the direction of the trees. Tyne wondered what this new horror could be that would frighten away the unseen archers. A great bat winged reptile alighted in the rocky clearing but it did not immediately lunge at Tyne with its horrible teeth as he thought it would. It eyed him hungrily but then lost interest and began to preen itself as if it were some scaly bird. A creature, for creature was the best name Tyne could apply to such an apparition, slid from the monster's back. It stood like a man but seemed half again as tall as the tallest of our race and equally as broad. It was clad all in black armor with a terrifying assortment of weapons arranged about itself. Its eyes gleamed like red coals deep within the shadowy depths of its head. Where clothing or skin should have peaked through there was only darkness deeper than the starless night.

Tyne was frozen in terror by the thing. Then the apparition spoke, "what is it you seek fool? Only death awaits you here, as your friend has demonstrated. Would you end as he? Carrion for the birds? Or would you know what it is to truly live, to have power beyond mortal dreaming?"

Tyne stuttered, "anything is better than death! What is it you can offer?"

The thing laughed but there was nothing pleasant in the sound, "I offer nothing fool! But perhaps my master shall find you worth salvaging, else I can leave you here for the vultures."

Tyne looked again upon the shattered remains of Bayard and then looked back at the apparition and its winged mount. He sighed, "very well, I shall see what this master of yours has for me. I am dead regardless, so what choice have I?"

The thing laughed again, "you do not. Come."

The thing nearly tossed the boy into the saddle and then climbed up behind him with a strength and speed that defied mortality. The reptile screeched and was soon in the air winging its way quickly south. Tyne was terrified by the apparitions beneath and behind him. He felt some sadness at the loss of his friend but far more relief in having escaped such a fate himself. The boy was a fool! This was the fate his faith had earned him. Tyne shivered, wondering what his own future held. The monstrosity laughed coldly behind him as if it knew his thoughts.

Bayard felt the pain of the arrow in his chest, breathing became an agony, and then he felt himself fall. A sharp pain to his head had sent him reeling into darkness and then into a veiled half light, as if one lay in the sun with your eyes shut. The pain was gone and so was all the horror and fear of what had just come to pass. All he felt was a wonderful sort of peace and a warm wetness engulfing one foot. His eyes fluttered open and he found himself lying on a beach with one foot submerged in a seemingly endless sea that was clear as glass but whose hue was ten thousand different shades of blue and green and purple. Light played in the gentle ripples upon its surface but other lights like stars or fireflies lost in the deep flitted and danced in its depths. Bayard felt as if he might look at the water forever and be content to lose himself in such beauty but this was not the only marvel before him.

The light about him was that of morning in the spring when all is alive and aflutter with life and birdsong but there was no sun to cast such a radiance. It emanated from the north, across the vast sea, and he felt his heart yearning to go thence. He then glanced about himself and found an endless beach of soft white sand with nothing upon it but a small boat lying where the water lapped at the shore. He wondered at this for a moment but his eyes carried his gaze to the mountains, that bordered the beach, whose lofty heads were lost in the clouds or perhaps they had no top. The living rock was alive in every color of grey, blue, and black and streaked with veins of silver. Theirs was not the dull and drab hue of mortal stone but each pebble was more stunning than the most precious gem among living men. Upon their lower slopes Bayard could see vast forests and deep, green valleys, and here and there, the flash and play of light upon distant water. If one has seen a jungle on the slopes of a tropical mountain, this forest made its mortal counterpart look an unwatered desert wasteland.

He looked again to the boat and then towards the source of all the light and peace and joy in this strange new world. His entire being called him to climb into the tiny vessel and cross that vibrant sea, but a yet deeper part turned again his eyes to those mountains and the mortal world that must certainly lie beyond. He looked upon those cliffs with longing, wishing there was some small part he could yet play in the affairs of mortal men; that he somehow might be allowed to tell others what he himself had heard and to become a shield between the helpless and the darkness that yearned above all things to destroy them. "You want to go back?" came a shrill voice behind him.

Bayard's eyes quickly sought out the source and found a gull sitting on the bow of the boat. He was not surprised to find a talking bird in such a place but was quite astonished to find himself on his knees in awe and fear before such a lowly seeming thing. The gull seemed to find the whole thing quite amusing as it said, "you certainly could go back and render aid to yet living men but you cannot again live among them. But would you want to go back? What has anyone ever done for you? Why would you want to linger on in such a place of grief and sorrow when once you have been beyond all of that?"

Bayard could not meet the eyes of the bird but stared at the sand, grinning sheepishly, "I want the whole world to know what it is I have found! I want to do something worthwhile in service to the King, for my life was short and lived quite selfishly in ignorance of Himself. Why should I despise that which I have known all my life simply because I have glimpsed a brighter morning?"

"Well spoken," squawked the gull, "as long as you have fully thought it out you may do as you wish, but know that you are not immune to sorrow, grief, humiliation, or pain though true death cannot take you twice. Neither can you settle down among them or go where you wish. It shall be at My bidding and direction that you serve and Mine alone." Bayard did not need to ask Who this bird was though he was a bit taken aback at His current appearance. The bird laughed in its own shrill way and said, "you cannot imagine the Creator of the universe in the guise of a seagull? It is quite ironic I suppose, but for the moment it is sufficient for both of us. Now are you sure?"

The boy finally felt an irresistible urge to lift his eyes and meet those of the gull. Somehow those beady eyes that were so cruel in mortal gulls held immense wisdom and power, but also unfathomable love for the wretched boy upon the beach. "There is one last thing," said the gull quite seriously. At that moment the boy lost all conscious knowledge of himself and every selfish act, small sin, and intentional evil that he had ever committed played through his mind. It seemed an eternity of pain and sorrow and grief and humiliation until the boy came to himself and found himself lying prone on the beach, weeping as one bereft of his soul. A small wave suddenly washed over the boy and when it had retreated safely into the sea he found himself eye to eye with that strange bird. He cocked his head and said gently, "it is gone, all of it! Somewhere perhaps in the deepest depths of the sea it yet dwells, but never more to be remembered by either of us. You have committed it to Me and I have removed it far from you." The boy nodded and smiled a small, sad smile. The bird stared at him blankly until finally joy unthinkable stirred in his heart and blossomed upon his face. The bird smiled deeply and said, "then I commit you to others that they might set you upon your quest." Then He was gone and the boy was alone on the beach.

He sat up and made to brush the sand from his chest but froze in astonishment. Gone was his ragged and travel-stained peasant garb and in its place he was clad all in white garments and silver armor. He laughed, for a sword rested firmly at his side, though he had never held such a weapon in his life he felt he knew full well the use of it. He glanced again at the rocky heights but knew to climb them was impossible. He looked first west and then east but white sand and rocky height and sparkling water ran for endless miles in either direction; he knew if he walked forever he would never come to their ending. But now what? He felt an urging to look again to the west and was not at all surprised to see a man mounted upon a great winged horse standing where only a moment before there had been nothing but empty, glorious beach. The man slid from the great horse's back as Bayard rushed to meet him. They exchanged warm greetings, as if they were brothers or best friends long sundered through much sorrow and reunited with joy in the morning.

It was one of the men who had sat beside their fire what seemed a thousand years ago or perhaps something that happened in a dream. He smiled as recognition dawned in the boy's eyes and then said, "I see you have made it."

Bayard nodded, "I am still not sure what I have volunteered for but it seems far more wonderful than anything I could ever have imagined."

The man grinned, "you have not seen anything yet! Come, we had best be on our way for there are things you must accomplish in the lands of mortal men."

The man climbed back into his saddle and seemed to be waiting upon the boy to follow. The horse eyed the boy skeptically and said, "this is highly unusual, never in my experience has any Pegassi ever borne two riders of your sort. Where is the boy's mount?"

The man said quietly, "he refused his calling and for now we must offer the boy our aid else he must walk."

The horse made a disquiet sound deep in his throat and said, "this is quite unexpected and worse than tragic! To think that even the Pegassi might rebel against the King, but I suppose we have as much choice in the matter as all other thinking creatures. Come boy, it is time to ride."

The boy looked a tad nervous, not quite understanding the conversation that passed betwixt the two but easily found his way into the saddle behind the man. The Pegassi turned slightly and with a great sweep of his wings all the world whirled around them and they found themselves standing in a little grove of trees not far off the road with an inn a little way down the road. Gone were the splendid clothes and the great horse and instead there stood two plainly clad men and as common a horse as one could find anywhere in the world. "Now," said Ryan, "I will tell you a little about your new occupation before I set you upon your first quest, but much will come with experience or you will have the knowledge when you need it. We have passed beyond mortality but have not yet passed over the Sea. If ever you grow weary, simply return to the beach and cross the Sea and enter the Brightlands, but you may never again return to the mortal world until the King himself comes for the final battle against the Evil One."

He continued, "we cannot again taste of natural death but we can feel pain and certain foes, spells, and weapons have the ability to cast us back to the beach and from thence we must again set out. You must always try but you may not always succeed. Sometimes our success depends upon the choices of mortal men and they must make their own decisions, we cannot force them and thus we might fail because they choose poorly. Know that our Master has already conquered death and evil but yet a little while it lingers still in this mortal sphere until all again shall be put aright. We appear in various forms to the inhabitants of these Greylands: sometimes we are not visible, sometimes in our true form though unable to touch mortal things, and at other times we are mortal ourselves, at least enough that we can aid those we must without alerting them to our rather strange nature.

You may deal no injury to mortal men though they may feel for a moment the pain as if you had struck them, but to the minions of our Enemy your blade can either destroy utterly or cause the villain to be banished back to his fell master for a time. In mortal guise, if given a mortal wound we may for a time appear dead, but in what form or shape we return depends upon our Master's will and our current situation. We may simply vanish, take again our natural form, or perhaps even find ourselves whole in mortal guise once more. In mortal guise, mortal weapons can cause us injury and temporary harm. You will feel again sorrow and grief, especially for those who refuse our Master's call, but you cannot despair or lose hope for ours is a Hope and a Joy which is boundless and ever new. Any questions?"

The boy's eyes were wide as he tried to remember all that had suddenly been revealed and then he said once he found voice enough to speak, "what was it you were saying back on the beach about it being strange that I have no mount?"

The man nodded and said, "each of us is paired with one of the Pegassi, but they are a free and noble race that lives upon the seaward side of the mountains ever facing the Brightlands. It is their purpose and glory to aid us in our quest, but they have a choice whether to pursue that calling or not. Your intended mount refused, a thing rarely done in all the days since time began. As such, he is a rebel and has been banished to this side of the mountains in hopes that he might one day rue his pride and seek again the King's mercy. The choice is yet his to make and what will become of the matter I know not. You will have help when you need it, fear not, for we are never alone." Suddenly Ryan and his mount were gone and Bayard was left alone in the little copse. He wondered what he was to do next and felt a very strong urging to enter the inn and wait for what was to come.

Bayard waited patiently at a table near the door. Various patrons came and went, but none heeded him save a stranger sitting far to the back who watched him intently. The presence of the dark man sent a cold thrill down Bayard's spine and he knew there was something uncanny about the man. The door opened again and Bayard knew that his quarry had come. It was Ithril, Tyne's younger brother. The boy looked a bit older than he had the day they left home; he seemed to recognize Bayard for he started in surprise but soon smiled in pleasure and seeming relief. He seated himself across from the older boy and said, "where have you been? Tyne returned home six months after you both left. He did not stay long nor would he say what had come of your adventures. He left soon after but promised to return which made me very uneasy. I decided it would be best if I were not home when he came back again."

Bayard eyed the stranger cautiously before speaking, "your brother and I traveled into the far north of the world and attempted to climb the Mountains of Shadow. I was injured and fell down a cliff. I do not know what became of your brother but he left me for dead. What exactly do you plan to do with yourself now that you are loose in the wide world?"

The boy shrugged in embarrassment, his eyes still wide with amazement after Bayard's story, he said, "I do not rightly know but I am to meet with a man tonight who might have an interesting offer to make." Bayard eyed the stranger in alarm but Ithril's attention was drawn to the door where a middle-aged man had just come in out of the night. He nodded to the boy and stared curiously at Bayard before taking a seat next to Ithril.

He said quietly, "I had not expected you to bring a friend, lad."

The boy smiled, "I was not expecting him either. He and my brother were good friends once and I have not seem him in a year, but I found him here when I arrived."

The man eyed the older boy curiously, "can you use that blade lad?"

Bayard smiled sheepishly, "it depends on who you ask. I am not much of a threat to mankind but neither am I completely useless."

The man smiled in commiseration and said, "the bigger question is can you be trusted? Your young friend here has agreed to secrecy in this matter and if you wish to be part of it I ask that you do the same."

Bayard said, "I shall certainly not betray you."

The man nodded and said, "good, then we had best ride, for there are certain folk about I would like to avoid."

Ithril and the man stood and headed for the door, but Bayard stood slowly and followed at a leisurely pace. As the others vanished into the night, the stranger stood and made for the back door of the inn. Bayard drew forth a dagger and threw it with the unerring accuracy of a master marksman. The stranger made a strangled sort of screaming sound and clutched at the dagger in his back momentarily before vanishing in a puff of smoke. The other patrons of the inn were wide eyed and watched in astonishment as the strange youth left the inn and sighed in relief once he was gone. There was no trace of either the dagger or the dark man. The exchange had taken barely a moment and Bayard's companions failed to notice anything untoward had even happened.

Bayard thought perhaps he should feel a sense of remorse or disgust for dealing so with the Spy in the inn, but it was for this that he was abroad in the world: to protect mortal men from those servants of the Enemy against whom they stood no chance. They must deal with men of evil intent themselves but such a creature as this could not be dealt with by those that yet drew breath. They emerged from the inn and the man remarked, "I did not like the look of that shifty stranger and hope we will not have reason to regret his presence this night."

Bayard smiled, "I do not think he will be bothering us, at least not tonight."

The man eyed him curiously, "and why is that?"

Bayard shrugged, "just a hunch."

"Perhaps," said the older man, "but more importantly, do you have a horse?"

Bayard said sheepishly, "I am afraid my mount and I have been sundered and alas, I am afoot at the moment."

The man turned to Ithril, "and you?"

The boy said matter-of-factly, "my brother took my father's only spare horse and when I left home he would not lend me so much as a sway-backed mule."

The man sighed, "then I guess we had best start walking as fast and as far as we can while the moon lasts." He took the reins of his own beast and they set off quickly afoot. They walked silently until they were well away from the inn and then the man began to speak quietly but firmly saying, "you are both well aware of the Dark Prince who lurks far to the south while his servants prey upon whom they will. Are you also aware that there are those who dare to stand against such vile men?" Ithril looked hopeful and Bayard listened closely but remained silent.

The man continued, "most consider such men fools or myth, but they are very real, if quite secretive in their habits and movements. It is for this very matter we have come together this night, or at least why Ithril has sought me out. Our as yet nameless friend seems to be here by coincidence but I do not believe in coincidence. What brings us together lad? Is it providence that you have found us or are you one of the Enemy's many spies, sent to find and destroy us?"

Bayard said, "perhaps you could call it providence, but I can assure you that I am no servant of the dark."

The man nodded firmly and said, "you certainly sound as if you speak the truth, but time shall reveal what it will. You seem far too young to have fallen into evil, but this boy's brother is of an age with you and I know he has come to dabble in things best left alone. You were once friends? Tell me how it is that he comes to be a servant of the darkness and you are not of the same ilk?"

Bayard said quietly, "we traveled together for a time, as Ithril has said, but we were parted and afterwards I know not what came of him. But I do know he had an insatiable thirst for power and renown, which I fear led him into darkness. I did not share his longings."

"What then is it you seek lad?" asked the man.

Bayard smiled, "that I was hoping you would tell me. For I am yet in search of my current purpose and quest."

The man smiled, "then perhaps you have found it. If you are interested, I can tell you more of the Whiteguard, the perennial enemy of the Dark Prince's Blackguard." Both of the boys nodded eagerly and the man continued, "very well then. We are free men who have chosen to dedicate our lives to opposing the human servants of the Dark Prince. We are servants of the Great King and therefore uphold His laws, defending the helpless from the minions of evil. We are not as numerous as the minions of the south, but we are well trained in the arts of war and have allies in all lands willing to aid and hide us as they can. We do not fight outright battles but fall upon small groupings of enemy soldiers, patrols, scouts, and raiding parties. It is a dangerous life but I know none so worthwhile or exciting. If you are looking for something to do with your lives it is an honorable life though you shall never gain riches or renown."

Ithril was agape with wonder and a bit taken aback by the mention of the Great King. Bayard smiled slightly in thoughtful amusement, thinking that he would have been wiser to take up with such men rather than to so foolishly attempt the mountains. These men risked death on behalf of others; he had walked willingly to his doom after ample warning and for no good reason.

"And who is to say you did not have a good reason?" asked the magpie sitting on his shoulder. Bayard jumped in surprise but the others did not seem to notice the bird or his reaction to it. It continued, "some are called to one thing and some to another path. I called and you answered. Do not regret what might have been, for things can only be as they are. I know the what ifs and the maybes but it is only for you to know what is and what has been and to see what yet shall be." He was gone as suddenly as He had appeared. Bayard shook his head in amazement, wondering if he would ever get used to such things.

Ithril continued as if the whole speech of the bird had taken place in no time at all, "must you serve this Great King in order to take up with the Whiteguard?"

The man laughed, "many think Him myth at first, but all must serve Him willingly or you can have no part in us or we in you. It is a brotherhood devoted to His service and His alone. Otherwise we would just be serving ourselves and would soon fall to the evils of pride and selfishness and become nothing more than another bandit horde depredating whom we would. And what think you on the matter lad?"

Bayard smiled, "I am at the service of the King and gladly do His will."

Ithril gaped, "are you serious?"

Bayard laughed, "your brother thought me equally foolish, but I pray you do not follow his tragic example."

Ithril sighed, "I suppose I should withhold judgment until I have learned more, for I am yet ignorant of such things."

The man laughed, "now there is wisdom lad. Fear not, for many things thought to live only in story actually dwell in the real world though it might be a safer world if some such things were only myth."

The moon had vanished beyond the distant hills and the night grew very dark. They found a secluded place to camp and were soon asleep though Bayard was in no need of such rest. He needed neither sleep nor food nor water and only appeared to draw breath that others not wonder why he did not breath. Bayard kept a careful watch but no fell thing disturbed their slumber. In the morning, the man passed around some rations from his saddlebags and then they continued on their way. "We really need to get the pair of you mounted," said the man in good-natured irritation, "else you will be my age before we reach the nearest company of the Guard."

At this, they turned off down a side road and pressed hard all morning and arrived outside the gates of a well-to-do lord. Ithril gave Bayard a nervous look and the guards at the gate eyed the strangers suspiciously before saying, "and what would such a trio of wandering ragamuffins demand of our Lord?"

The man did not seem offended or intimidated in the least and said, "we would wish an audience with Lord Colwin if he would deign to see us this day. We were friends long ago, very nearly brothers; our need is great else I would not dare intrude upon his Lordship's invaluable time."

The guard eyed him skeptically and said, "and who should I say is daring to bother his lordship?"

The man said, "one whose name is not worth remembering."

The guard gave him a dangerous look and said, "I shall carry your message but know I am within my duties to deal with you harshly if this is some trick or a waste of my time."

The man nodded solemnly and said, "I expected nothing else."

The guard raised an eyebrow but hurried off with the message. Ithril was impatient with nervousness but Bayard and the man seemed unconcerned with the interminable wait. The guard finally returned and said quite formally but with no little amazement, "his lordship will deign to see you but you must not trouble him long. Come."

They followed the guard into the courtyard where the man left his horse with an attendant and then they followed the guard deep into the heart of the great house wherein sat the lord. The lord sat before a great fire stroking a grey cat upon his lap; he looked up with some surprise at his visitors but wasted no time in signaling for the guard to leave them in peace. Another look of surprise crossed the guard's face but he quickly bowed and retreated. The three strangers bowed before his lordship, who spoke even before the door had shut behind the retreating guard, "it has been a long time Jaden, in fact I thought never to see you again. Is it not dangerous to have such as yourself consorting with an upstanding lord such as myself? How is it you have survived all this time?"

The man smiled bemusedly and said, "I thought never again to see you, for fear of bringing the wrath of my enemies upon you, but it is a desperate thing that drives me to beg at your door. I will be gone again as soon as I can. But it is good to see you once more."

Colwin laughed, "ever the idealist I see! You are ever welcome though your enemies certainly are not. I know why you have stayed away but I must say that I have missed you. Now what is this dire need that forces you to visit your brother once more?"

Jaden said, "these boys actually. I fear we have enemies not far behind us and they are afoot. I would beg the use of a pair of horses if you can spare them."

Colwin shook his head, "most of my horses are out in the fields or assigned to my soldiers, save one beast whose master has taken ill. There is also quite a magnificent specimen of recent acquisition but no man can sit upon him and live to tell the tale. I can give you the unfortunate's beast and you may take your chances with the other."

Jaden bowed deeply and said, "you have my deepest thanks!"

Colwin laughed, "by right all of this should be yours. The least I can do is loan you a horse. Will you yet deny your birthright?"

Jaden smiled as if this were an old argument and said, "perhaps my birthright but not my heart's desire. I have found my true calling and nothing save death will sunder me from it."

Colwin shook his head sadly, "and that is what I fear shall be your only reward for your foolishness! Let us pray you have not brought disaster upon all our heads. You had best be gone before more of the household learns of your presence. There will be rumors enough as it is." The lord stood and briefly embraced his brother before chasing them from the room and giving the servant at the door explicit instructions as to how his visitors were to be horsed. The servant's eyes were wide but he bowed deeply and led the strangers to the stableyard. Colwin watched his brother vanish out the door and wondered at the tales that had captured his heart and consumed his life. What could tempt a man away from a life of relative wealth and security when the majority of humanity toiled in ignominy and often lacked the nicer comforts of life? He wondered if he would ever see him again and part of him enviously wondered if he could ever find such purpose. He returned to his chair and his cat and stared into the answerless fire.

The spare horse was saddled and brought forth. Ithril looked at the beast with trepidation, not having spent nearly as much time in the saddle as his elder brother. Jaden said, "I fear you will have to ride double, but at least it will be far swifter than walking."

Bayard said, "let me at least see this terrible beast of which your brother spoke. Perhaps we can get some use out of him and thereby hasten our travel."

The servant's eyes were as wide as they could possibly get when he said, "you may try the beast but only a fool would attempt such an act!"

Bayard nodded and said, "it will not hurt to at least have a look at him."

The servant nodded and led the boy to a small corral constructed of sturdy logs at the center of which stood a thick post driven deeply into the ground to which was tied the most fantastic horse any mortal eye had ever seen. A wild light burned in his eyes and no one who knew anything of horses would get near the beast unless he was suicidal. He was bound head and foot with length upon length of rope but even so, a deadly menace seemed to emanate from the creature. Jaden said in quiet wonder, "you had best come along lad, no mortal man can ride that beast."

Bayard nodded and said, "I will not be content until I have at least spoken to the animal."

The servant laughed in derision, "you are a fool to think such a monster can be reasoned with!"

Bayard paid him no heed and was already straddling the fence and leaping into the pen. The horse laid his ears back and the whites of his eyes were visible all the way across the pen. His nostrils flared and the threat of imminent doom tingled in the air. Bayard showed no sign of fear or even caring, making the others wonder if he knew anything of horses at all or if he were simply a fool. He whispered quietly to the horse once he was close enough to be heard, but the others could only discern a sort of murmuring which they took for a foolish attempt at soothing the wild creature. Bayard said, "I know you are angry, frustrated, humiliated, lost, and despairing of all hope. Has freedom truly been worth the price? Are you truly free? Is this what you aspired to be one day?"

The horse's ears pricked in surprise and all the signs of malice vanished into those of utter confusion. "Who are you," said the horse quietly, "that would speak to a wretched beast so and what would you have of me?"

Bayard said, "who I am matters not, but our need is great. I would ask that you bear me from this place to one where another, more willing mount can be acquired."

The horse snorted in derision, "so you are simply another man who wishes to enslave my noble race?"

Bayard said, "I ask, I do not demand. A slave has no choice. I can simply walk away and leave you as you are if you refuse me."

The horse sneered, "so you would leave me in the hands of these barbarians to be a slave for all my mortal days?"

The boy said, "what would come of you if you were loosed? Were you not once free already? Were you not taken by men and would you not be taken again? I ask only that you bear me for a short time, which will also avail your escape. Once free of civilized lands you can find a desolate place more to your liking away from the habitations of men to live out the rest of your days in peace."

The horse sighed, "and what is that to me? A life of slavery or exile holds little joy yet death is even worse! Must I endure a few years of suffering and sorrow only to be cast forever into such a miserable place that my former days appear joyful by comparison? What is the point of anything?"

The boy asked, "are you so bereft of hope?"

The horse eyed him as if he were a fool, "I am a rebel and a traitor in the eyes of my people and my rightful King. I have denied everything in hopes of gaining true freedom only to find myself truly a slave and forever doomed to such an existence. I have been granted my heart's desire and find it deeply distasteful but alas, my rightful portion."

"Is there not hope?" asked the patient boy.

The horse said, "perhaps for your miserable race but not for mine. I have denied the King and there is the end of the matter."

The boy smiled, "why is my rebellious race spared but yours is not?"

The horse said skeptically, "what do you mean? The King offers redemption to fallen men but I have never heard it spoken that my race was in need of such an offer."

The boy's smile deepened, "and how many of your race have fallen into disgrace as did the forefathers of men?"

The horse's eyes were wide, "none I suppose. Do you mean to say that my disgrace is no worse than the fathers of men millennia ago? If that be true then perhaps even such a wretch as I can yet be rescued from impending doom! I have been a fool but perhaps no longer. Things would have been so much better had I simply done that which I knew I should have at the first. But perhaps all is not irrevocably lost."

Bayard smiled, "now what of that which I ask of you?"

The horse snorted, "it is highly demeaning for one of my race to carry one of yours, at least in this fallen sphere. Perhaps in another place and time however?"

The boy said simply, "can things get any more demeaning in your case? Would you again let your pride keep you from that which you know is your rightful duty?"

The horse sighed, "I suppose you must be right but I will carry no servant of the Evil One nor one bent on his own pleasure. Tell me truly if you serve the King and it is at His behest you ride on some errand of import?"

The boy said, "this errand is truly of His making and I am but the least of His servants. You must know also that the servants of the Enemy are certainly pursuing us."

The horse snorted in excitement, "now then this is an errand to my liking but what if I am simply using this as an excuse to free myself and abandon you to your fate the first chance I get?"

The boy said, "then you are a deceitful and selfish creature wholly bent on your own advancement and a true servant of the Enemy whether you have declared for him or not."

The horse snorted in amusement, "fear not, for I shall keep my word. You have given me hope and for that I shall do as you ask."

The boy said, "do it for the King and His glory, not for the sake of such a pitiful creature such as I."

The horse nodded, "truly spoken, now let us be upon our way. Know that it is a thing never done for my noble race to bear a mortal man."

The boy smiled quietly but made no reply as he began loosing the horse, which took a considerable amount of effort owing to the number of ropes that bound him. The three spectators were aghast but dared not interfere in case the horse take a fright and injure the boy worse than he already might. Finally the task was completed and the horse ran and bucked and frisked about the enclosure as the boy called, "bring me a saddle and bridle please."

The servant was near to fainting with amazement but ran to accomplish the task as the horse approached the boy and quietly groused, "if this thing is to be done I will not be arrayed as a common beast of burden."

The boy laughed, "if you wish to reveal your true nature to all and sundry feel free but you need to at least look the part else awkward questions will arise. I did not say I would use such implements to force you. In truth you could easily unseat me and be off to adventures of your own did I try."

The horse nodded at this seeming sense and said, "as long as we are agreed, I shall do what I must. But I am no slave but a willing accomplice."

The boy smiled, "as it ever should be."

The servant soon returned with the requested gear and the horse stood patiently while the boy tacked him up and only showed minor reluctance in taking the bit. The boy was soon in the saddle and the servant opened the gate while the horse trotted out as if he had been doing so his entire life. Jaden gasped, "how did you tame such a beast? Are you some wizard or other fell worker of dark magics?"

The boy laughed, "be it far from me to ever attempt such a horrid thing! Sometimes a few gentle and sensible words go much farther than all the whips and ropes in the world. Had we not best be getting on?"

The man suddenly remembered their precarious circumstances and quickly got into his own saddle while the awkward Ithril did likewise. They were soon on their way, leaving the servants to wonder if some sort of a sorcerer had not indeed spirited away that terrible horse, much to the relief of all. Once they were well away from the lands of Lord Colwin, Jaden said, "now we must ride swiftly lest the time we lost afoot be used to the advantage of those who might be following. I do not trust the look of the man at the inn, though he is not currently a threat I do not doubt he has friends." He turned and gave Bayard a significant look, "after recent happenings boy, I am not sure I trust you fully either, but you have been true so far so I am forced to trust you. Do nothing to disappoint me; you claim to follow the King and it seems you tell the truth, but you would be wise to leave now if you mean any harm to me or mine."

Bayard bowed in his saddle and said, "you shall suffer no hurt on my behalf sir. I am ever your ally as long as you are faithful to the King."

He then turned to Ithril, "you seem in doubt of the sanity of this expedition lad. You had best make a commitment one way or the other, for as long as you ride with us you are vulnerable to the servants of the Enemy, and even if you part from us you may still be at risk for even having ridden with us."

Ithril sighed, "I need to know more of this King of yours. I still half think him a myth but perhaps tonight, between you both I can learn what I must to come to a decision. I greatly wish to oppose the Dark Prince and escape the snare I fear my brother has laid for me."

They rode hard after that and there was little time for talk. For two days they pressed on as fast as the horses could go over such distances and had little time or energy at night for anything but falling into their blankets and catching what sleep they could. Finally, Jaden slowed their pace, content that perhaps they had outrun any pursuit the Enemy might have sent after them. That night, Ithril had the energy to listen to Jaden as he spoke of the many legends of the King and His servants and the rebellion and redemption of mankind. As they fell into their blankets that night, Ithril asked of Bayard, "how did you tame that horse? I do not recall you ever having any special talent with the lesser beasts."

Bayard laughed, "let us just say I have learned a few things in my travels. Have you made up your mind?"

Ithril sighed, "it all sounds so wonderful and amazing yet some part of me wishes it were all truly a story. Why cannot man just live as he wishes and then die and know no more?"

Bayard said, "because we were made and intended for far greater things than our meager minds can even fathom or dream. Why be content to splash in the shallows when the whole ocean is yours to explore?"

Ithril yawned, "I suppose you must be right but for now I will go to sleep."

Bayard got up and walked towards Jaden who was sitting up for the first watch. Jaden said as the boy approached, "shouldn't you be in bed?"

Bayard shrugged and said, "I am not tired and laying still staring into the darkness is of no use. I might as well take the first watch if it means you can get some rest."

The man nodded his thanks but wondered if the boy did not have some sinister motive in his seeming kindness. Jaden retreated to his blankets and sleep was long in coming. Bayard waited and watched the night; he was restless and knew something lurked in the dark outside the camp. They had traveled swiftly but no horse can outrun certain of the Enemy's minions. The horses whinnied in fear as a desolate and bone chilling howl filled the night, which brought both of the sleepers wide awake. Jaden struggled out of his blankets and reached grimly for his sword, knowing it was no use, saying, "you two had best ride. I cannot stop a Fellhound but perhaps I can slow him down or maybe he will be content with me."

Ithril stuttered in fear, "I thought they were just myths!"

Bayard said grimly, "only as mythic as his master and the King. You might want to make your decision quickly for death stalks the night."

Ithril gasped, "is there no hope?"

Jaden snorted, "there is always some hope, for the King has servants abroad in the world just as the Enemy, but there is no guarantee of rescue from such a foe. We mere mortals cannot hurt the beast and once they have found your scent nothing will stay him from the chase save his destruction or ours. Now ride!"

Bayard said, "I will make a stand rather than be chased down and destroyed while I flee blindly in the night."

Jaden said, "you are either mad, in league with the Enemy and thus have no fear, or braver than any man I have ever heard of."

Bayard drew his sword and said, "you two had best get moving before your horses break loose or die of fright."

Jaden growled, "I thought to make my stand. Besides, I am the one giving orders here!"

Bayard laughed, "is there any point in two dying here rather than one? Besides, I am not yet under your command!"

Jaden sheathed his blade and said, "you are certainly a stubborn one, lad. I will give you this chance though I doubt any of us will live to see the morning." With that, he took Ithril by the shoulder and guided the frozen boy to the panicked horses who were desperate to run. There was no sign of Bayard's mad horse. They mounted quickly and let the horses have their heads and were soon well and truly gone. The howl sounded again in the night, this time closer.

"What are you doing?" asked the voice of the horse from behind Bayard, "perhaps you can tame a wild horse but I doubt your charms will work on that thing!"

Bayard smiled in anticipation, "I am not planning to soothe the wild beast save perhaps with my sword."

The horse snorted, "did you not listen to what the other man said? They do not die so easily as you might think upon a mortal blade!"

Bayard said, "if you are afraid, you may go and I will count your promise fulfilled, otherwise do not distract me."

The beast came out of the night slowly, sniffing the air and growling under his breath. He was blacker than a starless midnight with glowing coals for eyes. He was as big as a small horse and though hound like, he had a certain reptilian cast. He sniffed cautiously at the pair before him, not quite knowing what to make of either creature. He whined pathetically and a voice spoke out of the dark, "how is it you have not fled? Come to beg for your life or that of your friends?"

Bayard said, "be gone and leave us be or I shall make an end of your beast and therefore yourself, Houndmaster."

The shadow draped man laughed derisively, "you are of no account boy. You or your pathetic companions, but my master has commanded that an end be made of you and that is what shall happen unless you bend knee to the Dark."

Bayard said quietly, "I bend knee to the King alone as all shall do one day, even your fell lord."

The dark man laughed, "so be it. Take him!" He motioned and the hound was upon Bayard faster than sight, but the boy's sword was up and the creature leapt full upon it. It whined pathetically, which escalated to a howl of absolute and utter despair as it vanished in a wisp of acrid smoke that blew away on a sudden breeze. The Houndmaster's eyes widened, he himself became misty and then transparent, and then vanished entirely, leaving the horse and boy alone in the night.

The horse's eyes were no less wide as he looked at the boy. The weight of the beast had knocked Bayard to the ground but as he climbed to his feet, he did not seem injured in the least. "What is going on?" said the horse darkly, "you have not told the full truth. Who or what are you? How do you know what you know about me? How is it you can stand against such a foe and live?"

The boy said quietly, "I have told you as much as I can for the moment, perhaps one day you will know the full tale. But then neither have you told me all your story. If that is not to your satisfaction I suggest you find another companion."

The horse said quietly, "this puzzles me greatly, but I must be content for the moment. I will accompany you a little longer and perhaps I can discover the answer to this riddle."

The boy said, "we had best go find the others."

The horse nodded and the boy was soon on his back, pursuing his fled companions. They had not far to go for the others had fled out of one danger into one perhaps far worse. A full dozen men in dark armor had surrounded the pair who were desperately flailing about with their swords, trying to ward off the host while a Wraith sat his hideous mount not far away and scowled, "take them alive you fools!"

The horse whispered to the boy as they charged, "you are seriously going to take on a Wraith?"

The boy laughed, "is there anyone else here to do such a thing? Are you with me?"

The horse sighed, "perhaps it will not be long and I shall see my homeland again." He screamed in fury as he charged the monstrosity and Bayard drew his sword once more.

The Wraith looked a man but was colder than death in both his manner and to the touch; such creatures were masters of all sorts of magic vile and dark. Their preferred mounts were of an equine visage but like the Fellhound, had a vaguely reptilian feel to them and seemed part of the night itself. He laughed scornfully as the fool boy charged and eagerly spurred his beast to meet the challenge. One touch of his blade was inevitably fatal to any mortal so wounded; the beast was always hungry for fresh meat and croaked in anticipation of the coming feast. The Wraith could have simply destroyed the pair with one of his many evil enchantments but he preferred to watch his victims die slowly in despair as they succumbed to what might otherwise have been a minor wound. He easily cut the horse out from under the impetuous fool; the beast fell with the horrible scream of the mortally wounded equine and Bayard barely managed to jump free before the poor creature fell.

The Wraith dismounted ere his beast could set upon the boy and approached ominously and with much anticipation at the spectacle to come. The boy held his sword before him and then their weapons clashed together. They exchanged several blows, as the Wraith toyed with his prey and then he struck like a snake. A slash on the boy's shoulder would ensure a slow and amusing death and the boy's counterstroke would be completely harmless to such as himself, except that this was not simply an ambitious boy but one of the King's Messengers. The counterstroke took the Wraith in the chest and he fell to ash and charred bone as the stroke fell; the beast met a similar fate. Bayard went to his knees and clutched at his wounded shoulder; it burned like ice but was already beginning to heal. Had he been yet a mortal man, the creeping death would have spread slowly across his chest and frozen his breath in his lungs and stilled his heart. As one beyond death, it was simply a minor irritation though a mortal wound would have banished him back to the Sea.

He stood and looked sadly at the horse and wondered what future lay before the poor beast. He then turned his eyes back to his embattled companions who had been forgotten for the moment as he took on the Wraith. There was now a full scale battle raging as a dozen men had ridden out of the night to rescue the overwhelmed pair. The Blackguard was soon overwhelmed and those not killed were quickly driven off as they witnessed the demise of their leader and lost their sense of invincibility, for what terrible enemies were these that could defeat such a creature? The newcomers were making quite a fuss over the rescued Jaden and Ithril, the latter seemed on the verge of fainting with the strangeness of the night. It seemed this was one of the roving bands of the Whiteguard and of this particular unit Jaden was captain. In the excitement, none had noticed the Wraith, Bayard, or the strange battle. Bayard decided to make his way back towards the camp before anyone noticed anything out of the ordinary. Thankfully the darkness covered his retreat as well as it had covered his entrance and the men were so lost in their jubilation that he was easily overlooked, for it would be quite difficult to explain what exactly it was that had transpired this night.

The pale grey of dawn was just visible in the east as Bayard crept back into the little wooded dell where they had taken cover for the night but there was a different sort of light filling the little glade. There stood a Pegassi stallion in all his radiance. He whinnied for joy when he saw the boy creeping into the dell. Bayard was for a moment stunned to see such a sight in such a place, but then the marvelous creature spoke with the familiar voice of the horse in laughing joy, "at last I understand."

And suddenly he was just an ordinary horse again, standing there looking as regular and boring as a horse might. Bayard asked, "what happened?"

Erian laughed, "in my rebellion I became mortal and therefore doomed to die, but not forever as those poor souls who refuse the King. And so I did. I met the King upon the shore of the Sea and He asked again if I would do that for which my race was made, else I could cross the Sea and come back no more until the Last Day. I finally said yes, and it seems at last you are properly horsed and I am doing that for which I was made!"

Bayard smiled, "welcome home my friend. Now what?"

Erian said, "we are to ride with these men for a time and protect them from those foes they cannot handle themselves. I think it will be rather awkward for you at least, but then it has been such since first we met! Ware, they are even now upon us."

Jaden crept into the clearing with drawn sword and the others followed cautiously. He dropped his sword in amazement when he saw the boy standing alive in the morning sun and his fool horse cropping away at the grass as if he were in a familiar pasture. "How?" gasped the amazed man.

"How what?" asked Bayard a bit sheepishly.

Jaden said quietly, "I thought we had seen the last of you. Where is the Fellhound?"

Bayard said, "he did me no harm. I do not know where it now dwells, but I have not seen it since you two rode off. Who are your friends?"

Jaden quickly told the tale, which Bayard already knew, and finished by saying, "I could have sworn there was a Wraith or some such thing directing those men, but who knows what really happened on such a night? Let us rest here for the day and this evening we'll take to the road. I still do not know how the boy survived?"

One of the older men laughed saying, "how did any of you survive this night? Perhaps he was not the thing's rightful quarry therefore it did him no harm. Let us all just thank the King we have survived and rest while we can."

Two men stayed up to watch while the rest took what rest they could. Ithril whispered to Bayard as they crawled into their blankets, "what a night! I am not sure I was made for all of this excitement but then I do not think I was made to walk behind a plow either."

Jaden laughed beside him, "this is the most excitement I have had in twenty years in the Guard and hopefully it shall be the most excitement I ever have, else I am getting too old for such adventures!"

Ithril yawned and replied, "then perhaps I can consider such a career after all." They exchanged a laugh and were soon asleep.

Late afternoon crept upon them and all climbed into their saddles to put some distance between themselves and the place where the Enemy knew they had last been. They rode steadily until there was no more light to see and they were forced to make camp. "Captain," said one of the younger men in the party quietly to Jaden as the others were busy making camp, "who are these newcomers? I do not think I trust them, at least not the older of the pair. No one faces a Fellhound and lives, save perhaps a servant of the Enemy."

The captain nodded thoughtfully, "the younger of the two is still something of a skeptic but I yet have hope for him. The other is certainly an oddity; I have no reason to distrust him but there are so many strange occurrences surrounding him that I know not what to think."

The younger man said, "I think I will keep a close eye on him if I have your leave. The last thing we need are spies and traitors in our midst."

The captain nodded grimly and said, "I think that would be an excellent idea but speak of this to no one but me."

They rode on for several days and resumed the patrol that the incursion of the Blackguard had interrupted, but nothing of note happened. The others in the party spoke eagerly with Ithril but they felt awkward and unsure around Bayard and for the most part ignored him unless they stared at him suspiciously when they thought he was not looking. Bayard took no notice of their behavior for he knew there were things about himself that he could not explain and without that, they had only their imaginations to explain things which was far from satisfactory and often stranger than the truth. One night, one of the scouts came back with a report of an encampment of the Blackguard not far to the south. Jaden ordered his men into their saddles and they rode to confront their perennial foes.

When they arrived at the campsite, they found it abandoned but had no time to ponder what this might mean for the horses suddenly went mad with terror and their ranks were thrown into chaos. A Dreadlord upon his fell winged reptile stepped into their midst and men were thrown to the ground or carried off by their panicked mounts. The Blackguard had seen the scout and retreated so that they might ambush their attackers. As the horses panicked, so did the hidden Blackguard fall upon their scattered enemies. Erian was the only horse in the entire Whiteguard that did not panic but Bayard's heart sank as he somehow recognized this particular Dreadlord as Tyne. Tyne easily recognized Bayard and a dreadful curiosity mixed with a sneer spread across his face. "You are dead," said Tyne incredulously.

Bayard unsheathed his sword and said simply, "it seems you are worse than dead."

Tyne laughed in his own horrible way, "I have found true power!"

Bayard shook his head sadly, "you have found a living death."

Tyne mocked, "and what of you? What kind of an existence have you discovered? I am immortal and you are still but a wretched boy! Give me my brother and I shall perhaps spare you."

Bayard glanced around and could see none of the others, for they had been scattered with the appearance of the Dreadlord. Bayard said, "he is not mine to give or to keep but I shall defend his life with my own."

Tyne scoffed, "you have no life to give! You are but a ghost and I shall give you a second death."

He spurred the winged reptile forward and Erian screamed his battle cry. Their swords clashed together as battle was met. Bayard took a glancing blow on the shoulder the Wraith had injured previously and it felt like hot iron had been thrust into the nearly healed wound. He screamed but managed to drive his own blade into Tyne's chest. The winged reptile screamed as it fell to dust and Tyne vanished with a howl and breath of smoke. Bayard knew it was not the last time they would meet. As Erian turned, Bayard saw Jaden fighting desperately with two of the Blackguard. Erian said quietly, "this is a foe against which your sword will not avail."

Bayard sheathed his blade and sighed, "I know but I wish there was something I could do." The captain managed to fell one of his foes but was mortally wounded by the other, but he returned the favor before he fell to the ground and lay still. With the loss of the Dreadlord, the horses quieted and the heart went out of the Blackguard, allowing the Whiteguard to fight back and win the day though not without a cost. Several were wounded and the captain was dead; they had also lost several of the horses which had either been killed or had run off in terror at sight of the Dreadlord. There was also the question of treason to be addressed.

The suspicious young soldier who had previously spoken to the captain about his mistrust of Bayard spoke up before the entire discouraged company, "this man is a traitor and a spy! I saw him stand by as the captain fought for his life and he did nothing!" The man pointed blatantly at Bayard and the gathered company murmured darkly, for they were greatly upset at both the ambush and the loss of their leader and had always been distrustful of the boy. The man continued, "what has he to say for himself on that point? What has he to say about all the strange goings-on that seem to surround him? There can be no other explanation than that he has betrayed us to the Enemy, perhaps on multiple occasions!"

They looked accusingly at Bayard who said, "I can offer no testimony in my own defense save that I am as grieved by the captain's loss as any of you."

"Hah," scoffed his accuser, "then why did you not render him aide even if it came too late."

Bayard said quietly, "there was nothing I could have done though every fiber of my being wished to do something."

The young man continued, "did anyone see him confronting the Blackguard? Where was he during the fighting?"

Ithril spoke up nervously, "is this not what the Enemy would want? Infighting within the ranks of his foes? Your late captain certainly would not approve."

The man scoffed, "and who are you to speak up? You who are perhaps in league with this spy?" Ithril dropped his eyes and mumbled something inaudible. Said the suspicious soldier, "let us have a vote and see if this company is willing to continue trusting this wretch!" There were many murmurs of ascent and the vote was called. None voted in favor of the boy and Ithril dared not vote at all. "Now," said the ringleader darkly, "we have declared him a spy and we shall dispense with him as our laws demand."

The soldier raised his sword and Ithril screamed in terror, "no!"

Bayard waited patiently and made no move towards his own blade but said simply, "this is not justice but murder!" He said no more, for the sword was raised and as the man struck the fatal blow, the boy vanished in a flash of light, making all wonder what had happened; his horse also vanished that day.

"What happened," gasped one of the men, "there was something truly unnatural about that boy and I begin to wonder if he was rather a servant of the King than of the Enemy?"

Snarled the murderous soldier, "he was nothing but a spy and this proves it. What of you boy? Will you admit your own vile connections?" Ithril's eyes filled with tears and he ran from the murderous band without a second look. "Let the fool go," growled the soldier still holding his sword.

"I think I will go too," said one soldier, "I have been a fool and have not the heart to remain in the same unit that would vote to do such a thing so rashly!"

"Go then," snarled the suspicious man, "and take all such heretics with you!" The entire band stood as one and left the man alone with his wrath. They disbanded that night and some sought service with another band of the Guard, while others settled down and raised a family, and still others went from place to place speaking of the King. The angry man went south and was never seen among living men again.

Ithril found himself weeping alone in the night with no idea where he was or why. He had come to hope that this King might actually be real but if this were what His followers were like it must truly be myth. "You judge Me by the failings of mortal men?" squawked a magpie from the branch above his head.

Ithril looked up in astonishment, "who are you?" The bird just looked at him and he nodded thoughtfully, "I suppose you must be right but what have I to do with you?"

The bird laughed, "the better question is what have I to do with any sort of fallen creature such as yourself? But yet I would have none lost but alas, some choose poorly and I will not renege on my gift that they might choose their own fates. Now what of your choice?"

The boy gaped, "I would very much like to be on Your side Sire but I fear I am not of much use."

Laughed the bird, "all I need is a willing heart, I will provide the rest as it is needed in your service. Here then is what you shall do..."

Bayard awoke on the Beach, with the gentle waves lapping at his feet. Erian stood at his shoulder and nudged him gently with his muzzle. He put a hand to his head and shakily stood; Erian whinnied his approval and set to bucking and rearing in his excitement, saying, "it is good to be home once more."

Bayard shook his head in amusement at the Pegassi's antics; his smile deepened as he looked further up the beach. He turned to the winged creature, which was now frisking in the waves, saying, "if you are done fooling around my dear Pegassi, we have work to do."

Erian cocked his head and followed the gaze of his friend and saw what had drawn his attention. The Pegassi snorted, "at least he will finally get his questions answered." They approached the late captain who stood gazing about himself in wonder, but as yet his back was towards them and he thought himself quite alone in all this strange and wonderful world. Erian's whicker caused the man to turn suddenly and it took him a moment to fully recognize the boy, for he was quite overawed by the glorious Pegassi at his shoulder.

Bayard grinned, "are you now satisfied captain that I am no fell servant of evil?"

Jaden shook his head in wonder, "it is all quite overwhelming, but this explains much! What of your tale? And Ithril's brother?"

Bayard shook his head, "my tale was very much as I told you, save that it was death that sundered us. Tyne must have taken up with some servant of the Dark One shortly after I fell, for he has become a Dreadlord, the same which fell upon you and your men this very day."

The captain smiled in anticipation, "I have entered upon a very strange profession I think."

Erian spoke, "quite strange to mortal sensibilities at least, but quite wonderful nonetheless."

The captain cocked his head, "the wild horse?"

Erian performed a lovely bow, "the same."

Jaden smiled, "this day just keeps getting stranger."

"And so it will," said a new voice, "at least until you quit thinking like a mortal and start thinking like a Messenger. Come! We have errands to be about." A smile nearly split the captain's face as he was introduced to the newly arrived Pegassi mare and formed a bond that would last until one or both decided to cross oversea.

"The lady is right," whinnied Erian as Bayard leapt aback his own mount and they vanished upon their next quest. Jaden shook his head in wonder and did likewise.

Ithril soon found the man to whom the Master had sent him; the old man sat smoking a pipe at the back of an empty common room in an inn which it seemed the world had forgot. The place was so lively that even the innkeeper found time for a nap this time in the afternoon. The man looked curiously at the boy as he introduced himself and took a seat across from the aged storyteller. The boy then proceeded to tell his strange tale, after which the astonished man said, "lad that is quite the story, and believe me I know many a tale. If it be true, and from the way you speak it I cannot doubt it, you are in grave danger. I can answer your questions but I can offer you neither safety nor comfort, for if you truly are hunted by your brother and he is a true servant of evil, there is no haven or refuge for you short of the Sea."

The boy gasped, "but no one can survive that journey."

The man shook his head sadly, "neither will you survive a Dreadlord's wrath. Better to die escaping than to be captured and eventually surrender to the will of our enemies."

The fear in Ithril's eyes hardened into a determination to avoid his brother at all costs. He nodded slowly and said, "then I had best not remain in one place too long, but I do have a few questions ere I go." They talked long into the afternoon and finally as the meager evening crowd began to trickle in, the boy bid his mentor adieu and vanished out the back of the inn. The man watched him go and wondered what lay ahead for the poor lad.

Bayard and Erian stood silently in the gathering dark outside the forgotten inn and exchanged a smile when their quarry emerged into the night. The boy had no idea they were warding his steps and keeping the servants of evil from falling upon him. He thought himself alone in all the world, hunted by forces he could not even begin to comprehend for reasons he could not fathom, but it was simply a matter of vengeance, for Tyne had vowed to have his brother a fellow servant of evil or else to see him dead, and he would not rest until the matter was finished. But he was not alone, as are all who fully trust in the Master, and he would not fall an easy victim to his brother's schemes. He likely would not survive the adventure but there are more important things in life (and beyond) than death. In exhaustion he lay down in a quiet dell and was quickly asleep while others watched that he might do so in peace.

It was a rather uneventful journey for Ithril, at least initially, for those minions of evil that did make an appearance in search of the boy or who might report him to their fell masters were quickly and silently dealt with by his unseen guardians. And as he yet traveled through civilized lands, he was able to find enough generous souls in his wanderings that he did not starve nor always have to sleep rough. It was so easy a journey that the boy began to wonder if indeed he truly were hunted as he had thought or if it were all a strange dream. Was there not something else he could do with his life save throw it away in a desperate flight into the Mountains? Where fear and danger could not overcome, perhaps complacency could undermine his natal faith, but ere he could shrug the whole ordeal off silly dream, the Mountains were before him. His stomach complained, for he had not seen a human habitation in two days nor eaten in that time either. He looked fearfully up into those cloud-shrouded peaks and wondered if it truly must be so. "What troubles you lad?" came a curious and amused voice. Ithril turned to stare in wonder and surprise at the short, aged man sitting beneath a weathered signpost beside a wandering track leading up into the hills.

The boy sighed, "I have had such strange adventures of late and it seems death or submission to evil must be the inevitable outcome. I thought I must retreat into the heights but only death lurks therein, yet worse may yet pursue me if I do not, but my travels have been without danger or incident and I begin to doubt the sanity of my original intent."

The man cocked his head and asked, "and what danger could drive a man willingly into those hills?"

The boy shivered, "my brother has become a fell servant of evil and pursues me that I may do likewise which I am loath to do. It is death behind and death ahead. What am I to do?"

The man smiled sadly, "take to the hills boy, at least there you may evade the clutches of evil. I would not doubt my original intent for the sake of a lull in your adventures; continue on as you know you must and all will be well in the end though the middle might be dark and desperate."

The boy nodded grimly, "not the words I wanted to hear but those that I needed. I thank you for your wisdom sir."

The little man smiled, "I can not only feed your resolve lad but also your body, take this bit of food with you ere you faint upon the way. It will be a difficult enough journey without starving upon it." Ithril took the proffered bag, thanked the little man again, and with a much heartened spirit, set out anew. The little man winked at Bayard and Erian as they ghosted silently after.

Bayard asked Erian in surprise, "he can see us?"

Erian shook his head in amusement, "he is no mortal man but some cousin of Elfkind and a fellow servant of our Master."

Bayard smiled in remembrance, "it was he that sat in the same spot and gave direction to Tyne and me when we passed this way what seems a lifetime ago."

Erian continued, "and so he will sit and give direction to all those weary wanderers who seek some greater purpose or meaning than that which the wide world has yet been able to give them until the Mountains themselves crumble into the Sea and all is made new."

Bayard nodded thoughtfully, cast a parting salute at the little man, and continued their pursuit of Ithril. The boy had climbed high into the hills and was starting his journey into the very heart of the Mountains when Bayard began to recognize the country through which they passed. He said quietly to Erian, though the boy could neither see nor hear them, "this was the way I came and it is very near this spot that I..."

He broke off as he recognized the rocky precipice where he had made his last stand as a mortal man, but thankfully the woods were now blissfully silent and there seemed no imminent threat to the boy. Erian turned his great head and eyed his rider, "we can do nothing to aide the boy if the normal denizens of this place decide to move against him. All we may do is ward him from the servants of evil over whom mortals have no power."

Bayard said thoughtfully, "that I know, but it will be hard to stand aside and do nothing."

Erian said in surprise as he swung his head back around to look upon their quarry, "we may not have long to wait! What is he doing?"

Bayard shook his head and grinned in amusement, "he is still a very young man, remember. And most boys cannot resist an adventure, especially one that might yield real treasure."

"He is going to get himself killed," sighed the confused Pegassi.

Bayard laughed, "I never said we were all that smart when it comes to this sort of thing, besides it adds to the thrill of the adventure."

Erian shook his head, "humans!"

They watched the boy vanish over the side of the cliff as he carefully made his way to the bottom of the chasm wherein he had seen the flash of sunlight on some shiny object far below. Erian reared and with one sweep of his great wings they found themselves now in the bottom of the ravine looking up as Ithril cautiously made his way down. A few bones and a fractured human skull lay strewn about and the unfortunate's dagger lay flashing in the sun; it was this that had attracted Ithril's attention. Erian shook his head in wonder, "he is risking his life for that?" Bayard said nothing but watched thoughtfully as the boy made his final descent into the bottom of the chasm.

He glanced at the bones with some trepidation and then his eyes fell upon his quarry. He was a bit disappointed to find all his effort exerted for the sake of a rusting belt knife, and he felt something like a grave robber as he picked up the discarded weapon and made a cursory study of the object. He dropped it in surprise and drew forth his own specimen and then retrieved the former for comparison. Erian cocked his head in confusion, "what can be so fascinating about a rusty knife?"

Bayard smiled slightly in knowing, "that blade will look very familiar as they were made by the same man. The only difference is probably the initial engraved on the hilt."

Erian turned a great eye on his rider, "and how would you know that?"

Bayard's smile deepened, "because that was my knife and it was forged by the same village smith that wrought Ithril's."

In the meantime, Ithril had also made this discovery and stared about him in horrified wonder. The knife had obviously belonged to Bayard and the bones lying haphazardly about were also undoubtedly his, but how could that be when Ithril was certain the boy had perished many long miles to the south? "How?" asked the boy to the air.

"How indeed?" came the mocking reply. In his surprise, Ithril dropped both knives as he stepped back in alarm, not that either would have availed him against a Dreadlord. Tyne continued to mock his brother, "is this how you would end too? Would you have your bones scattered by scavengers and gnawed by rodents as you lie unburied and unmourned, or would you rather not taste of death at all and find life and power unending?"

"Is your wretched existence truly life Tyne or a living death?" asked Bayard as he stood with sword drawn between the Dreadlord and his prey.

"Be gone fell ghost!" scowled Tyne as he found himself sundered from his quarry, "he is mine!"

Bayard snorted a laugh, "dream on. He may choose his own end. As did each of us, and so do all men. Back away and we need not fight."

Tyne drew his own sword and snarled, "you will do nothing but delay me for a moment and then I will again have the boy within my clutches."

Bayard rolled his eyes at Tyne's drama and then leapt upon his old friend. Ithril's legs had given way beneath him in shock as he watched the two tangle for a moment before Tyne took Bayard's blade in the chest and vanished with a horrid wail and a gust of smoke, leaving only Bayard and the terrified Ithril in the little valley. Bayard sheathed his blade and gave the flabbergasted boy a full minute to regain the use of his wits and his tongue. Finally Ithril stammered, "you are...were...must be...dead..."

"Yes," said Bayard plainly, "but that does not mean my usefulness to the Master has ceased. Nor will yours." There was no reply for the boy had fainted dead away.

Erian eyed his friend in amusement, "you certainly have a way with mortals."

Bayard shook his head but said nothing as he hefted the prone form aback Erian and mounted himself. In a moment they had returned to the top of the cliff where the whole adventure had begun and Ithril began to stir as they deposited him on the sward. He sat up and rubbed his temples saying, "this has all been one ridiculous dream has it not?"

Bayard grinned, leapt aback Erian, and said before the pair vanished, "it will only get stranger."

Ithril gaped about him but he was alone and could only scratch his head in amazement. He crawled to the edge of the precipice and stared down into its depths and caught the flash of sunlight on two knives now instead of just one. He sat back and sighed, the amount of rust on that blade and the state of the bones told him that it had been some time since their former owner had fallen into the chasm and breathed his last. They had been there months if not a year before his own strange adventures began which must mean that he had not seen the true end of Bayard, the boy had been slain well before that and he certainly was no ghost or rotting corpse upon this meeting. Hope stirred in Ithril's heart as he began to understand that though this adventure was sure to claim his life, it would not be the end of his adventures. He shuddered to think what might have come of him had he fallen into his brother's clutches. A true and honest death was much to be preferred over his brother's current state, no matter what power and advantages came with it. He stood and almost eagerly continued his journey higher into the Mountains.

"How far will he get?" asked Bayard of Ryan.

The Messenger shook his head, "only the Master knows. I will keep an eye on him. You four have other business to be about."

Bayard shared a curious grin with Jaden before they both mounted and headed into the dense forest that carpeted the slopes of the surrounding mountains. The two Messengers had appeared on the scene the moment Bayard vanished from Ithril's perception though not from that point in space and time. Sebiki, Jaden's mare said, "this shall be a rather strange mission."

Erian shook his head, "all must hear the Truth, even the Elves."

The mare blew out her nostrils, "but they know the Truth! They lived it! And they abandoned it to seek their own way."

Erian pinned his ears back, "so did I and yet I repented. They too shall have that chance."

Sebiki sighed, "I had forgotten that was possible."

Bayard grinned, "of all of us, you are the only one who has never had to live with the realities of rebellion and death."

She nodded, "such are merely theories and legends to my people, save Erian who has lived them. I will have much to learn upon the subject. I only hope it has a happy ending."

Erian shook his head, "for a few it might but they have lived with pride and bitterness so long I fear nothing we can say will change their stubborn hearts."

Jaden asked, "I did not think the elves were that fond of mortal men."

Bayard shook his head, "they are not. One of their arrows lies with my bones at the base of the cliff we just vacated."

Erian snorted a laugh, "then it is a very good thing that neither of you are mortal men, but I do not think they will be any happier to see two of their old countrymen ere they vacated their first home."

Sebiki asked, "then how are we to gain their attention that we might tell what we must if they abhor the very thought of us?"

Bayard said stiffly, "we will have no trouble gaining their attention."

His tone warned the others that they were no longer alone in the tangled woodland; they could see a dozen or more lithe, humanoid creatures moving and whispering among the undergrowth. As one, the elves stepped out of their concealment and challenged these intruders into their solitude. The captain of the group snarled, "what do you want? Never have strangers penetrated so deeply into our territory, thus defiling our land by their mere presence. Speak fools, ere the ability is permanently taken from you!" Unlike Ithril, whose mortal eyes could not see certain things beyond mortal gaze, these elves could see beyond Time and thus the Messengers could not conceal their presence from them, but their true identity yet remained hidden as all they saw were two men on drab horses.

Bayard said, "we have been sent to speak to your King and all your folk upon a most important matter."

The Captain snorted, "what of importance can a mere child of men have to impart to the least of our folk? You fool! You have ridden to your death and by it shall our land be cleansed of your vile presence."

Jaden shook his head, "we are merely messengers but our message has a voice and import far beyond the comprehension of any wretched mortal creature. Hear our tale and then we shall trouble you no more."

The captain scoffed, "and what fool thinks himself great enough that he dares send word to the elves?"

Erian said, "we come at the behest of the Master Himself. You might as well hear what we have to say else you will never be rid of us."

The captain and his men startled at the voice of the seeming horse and his confusion soon turned to anger as he said, "you speak beast, what then are you? Since you are no mere horse as your appearance declares." Erian reared, pawed the air, and spread his wings as the glory of their Master engulfed them and radiated off of them. For a moment the elves were stunned into silence but the captain soon spat, "a Pegassi! Your wretched alliance with Men was one of the reasons we left in the first place!"

Bayard grinned, "then you know full well who and what we are and the quickest way to be rid of us is to allow us to speak our part then we shall leave you in peace."

"Very well," snarled the captain, "but the King has yet to speak upon this matter."

Reluctantly the elves lead them to their city hidden deep within the recesses of the forest where the King and all his folk were not amused in the least to see such pathetic creatures, but knowing resistance was vain, they pretended to listen that they might hurry the intruders on their way. The Messengers held forth and found themselves very nearly pushed out of the city the moment they finished speaking. Erian shook his head in disgust, "that seemed a complete waste of time!"

A familiar voice squawked overhead, "and what is Time to you My dear Pegassi? And how do you know your words have truly been vain?" The four bowed as the Magpie vanished into the forest and then shared a joyful gaze before vanishing on their next errand.

Ithril picked his way carefully through the rocky maze of boulders and stunted trees and nameless weeds. It was a grim part of the mountains he had entered and it appeared that his surroundings would only grow worse as he ascended. He sighed, knowing the legend that even the air itself turned against mortal men if they climbed too high, he almost wished it all to be over. He stumbled in weariness, thirst, and hunger; he was lonely beyond anything he had ever known before. How had he ever thought this would be a good idea? Finally he sat down upon the nearest rock and put his head in his hands; what was the point? Suddenly he felt curious eyes upon him and turned to look at what dread thing had finally found him; he flinched to see a face that seemed of an age with himself but the flaxen hair and pointed ears told him that this was no wandering boy but one of the dreaded elves that had no love of mortal men. In his weakened state, he did the only sensible thing he could and fainted once more. Aboril looked down in dismay at the prone young man, he had not meant to frighten the poor creature. The words of the strange Messengers had stirred his heart and he meant to return to the lands forsaken by his parents, but no one had wanted to come with him. When his elders discovered his thoughts he was very nearly banished. So alone he ascended the slope, seeking that which lurked upon the far side, but growing very lonely he was delighted to find another sapient creature among the barren and rocky wasteland in which he now found himself.

He managed to rouse the boy with a little water from his bottle and as Ithril awoke, he was quite surprised to find gentle eyes looking into his own. He was quite certain he should be dead or imprisoned at this point; finally curiosity forced him to speak and the two quickly exchanged stories and unanimously agreed to seek the other side of the mountains together. Aboril's food did much to hearten and strengthen the weakened Ithril and their mutual companionship greatly encouraged them both. For several days they climbed higher until Ithril found breathing difficult and most growing things had been left far behind.

Ithril sat down on a rock, panting and said, "I cannot go much further else I shall lose my breath entirely."

Aboril's answer was lost in vile laughter as Tyne once again ruined his brother's day by his mere presence. He had little interest in the boy at this point, save some vague notions of revenge, but his master had sent him in pursuit of the renegade elf, for it would be quite a triumph to subvert one such of that recalcitrant people to the Dark One's yoke. Tyne launched a spear at his winded brother and pinned him to the boulder against which he had been leaning; his punctured lung made it all the more difficult to breath and he began to gape like a landed fish. Aboril stood in horror, frozen between running to aid his wounded friend or fleeing for his life from this apparition that he knew to his core was after him. Such confusion was taken from him as there came a brilliant light, the rush of wings, and strong arms grasped him.

Said Jaden as he swooped to the rescue aback Sebiki, "I will bear you over the mountains lad if that is still your goal." Aboril nodded dumbly, desperately wanting to help his friend. Jaden said quietly, "there is nothing you can do for your friend lad. You could only end in the grasp of the evil one." Aboril sighed heavily but allowed himself to be borne to safety with a heavy heart which was soon forgotten as his eyes fell upon the home he had never known.

Bayard stood over the gasping Ithril with sword drawn as Jaden stooped upon the elf and bore him safely away. Tyne howled in absolute fury and fell upon his perennial foe with a vengeance and soon overwhelmed Bayard, banishing him back to the Sea. The last thing the gaping Ithril saw was Tyne leaning over him with fury burning deep in his eyes, finally he lost his fight for air and his mortal struggles were at an end. Tyne sighed deeply, dreading what his terrible master would do when his failure was discovered. He turned his dread beast and sought long until he found one of Aboril's kin abroad in the open. The wretched creature was easily taken and Tyne bore him South to see if he might not somehow salvage his life with his alternative hostage.

Ithril gazed about him in wonder, feeling as if his adventures had been far too easy if this was what lay at journey's end. His heart yearned to go oversea, but he also felt he yet had something to accomplish on the other side of the mountains. He hoped Aboril had not been too lonely after the loss of his companion. What did an elf do if ever they crossed the mountains? "The same thing that men may choose when they do likewise, save we need not taste of death to do it," said a familiar voice now tinged with unspeakable joy. Ithril turned about in wonder and slight amusement, knowing now that he must have spoken aloud. Even more wonderful to Ithril was the sight of the captain and Bayard as they welcomed the newest recruits into the Messengers. They exchanged greetings and introductions all around before the two were completely overwhelmed in joy and awe as a pair of Pegassi alighted on the beach. Now properly horsed, Jaden paired up with the elf and Bayard took charge of Ithril and all four vanished, leaving the eternal beach to itself.

"This looks like...!" Ithril gasped in amazement, prematurely ending his speech.

"Yes," said Bayard quietly, "we have come home, though it can no longer be that to us."

Ithril grinned, "you will have to lead as I have no idea what I am doing."

Bayard returned the smile, "neither do I. It seems one is always learning as you go in this business."

Erian cocked his head, "does that not always keep it interesting?"

The Messengers laughed, "that it certainly does." Ithril sobered, "will they know us?"

Bayard nodded grimly, "it will not be easy telling your parents what has come of Tyne."

Ithril nodded gravely but then smiled, "nor easy telling them we have not come home to plow fields, though I think a Pegassi might make short work of such a task."

Erian snorted, "not quite the work to which our Master has destined us I think."

"No," said Bayard with a grin, "but an interesting concept nonetheless. That might very well have been your fate my dear Pegassi had you not returned willingly to our Master."

Erian shivered in horror at the thought, but could not answer, for a woman had noticed the two strangers on the edge of the village and was quickly making her way towards them. By her speed, it must be Helma, the town gossip, for only their mothers would have reason to approach them with such haste and they were too far away to be recognized. She drew in a sharp breath as she recognized the missing boys, and regaining some composure she crossed her arms and scolded, "now where have you two been all this time? And where is that other boy that ran off with you? Most unwise that, but I guess you are home now. What your parents will think! We all thought you dead or worse..."

She carried on for a full five minutes half scolding, half eager to discuss this bit of news with all and sundry. She seemed oblivious to the Pegassi, who shook their heads in amusement and then vanished with one sweep of their great wings, leaving the boys to the mercy of Helma. She continued to rattle on, but Bayard began moving towards the center of the village, forcing her to walk as she blathered; Ithril followed in silent amusement, exchanging a knowing grin with his friend. To think they had held this woman and her tongue in greatest dread, never knowing what new tale of mischief might reach their respective mother's ears. Now her prattle seemed quaint, almost amusing, and brought something of nostalgia with it, a sense of grateful remembrance of things that could no longer be, like the last scent of a fading rose at the very end of summer. As they made their way into the village, a small crowd began to gather as the residents left their current task to gape at the wonder of strangers in the village, perhaps hoping to be spared Helma's view of things in witnessing the event themselves. There were several gasps as the boys were recognized and people went running to alert the entire town, most especially the kin of the returned wanderers.

Within minutes, the village green was filled with amazed and eager villagers hoping for some explanation as to their disappearance and return, foremost among them were the parents of the missing boys. There were many eager greetings but Ithril's mother seemed troubled as she asked her late son, "where is your brother?"

Before the boy could answer, a harsh voice grated, "that is none of your concern woman. Now step aside and leave these wretches to me." The woman turned white and fainted dead away upon sighting the speaker. The villagers drew back in horror as a Dreadlord, not Tyne, stood forth and grabbed each of the boys by their throats, saying, "you two will come with me." He glared around at the remainder of the villagers and snarled, "there are none others here that interest me. Bring the fools and let us be on our way."

A trembling man in the uniform of the Blackguard motioned for his men to secure the prisoners which the Dreadlord had flung to the ground like so much refuse. Ithril's eyes were wide with surprise but Bayard wore an amused half smile. They had gone for their swords the moment they sensed the Dreadlord but the weapons were not there, thus there must be some other point to this exercise than simply vanquishing one of their perennial foes. They allowed themselves to be captured and drug along by the unwitting Blackguard, leaving the terrified villagers to stare after them in horror. The weeping of their mothers smote their ears as they lost their sons anew.

It was not far to the camp of the Blackguard and as it was late in the day, there they remained for the night. The latest additions to the party were flung into the midst of four other boys who jumped aside ere they were landed upon. The new captives set themselves upright and stared after their retreating captors in astonishment. "Welcome to the bitterest days of your lives," said one of the boys with a regal bearing, "we are all of us unwilling slaves to the Dark Prince."

The Dreadlord's harsh voice snarled, "you had best become willing slaves or you will cease to exist at all. I have met my quota, captain now see that they do not get lost or injured on the road to Golcamoth or I shall hold you responsible."

The captain stuttered in terror, "yes my lord." Satisfied, the monster mounted his hideous beast and vanished from the camp which sighed in relief at his going. They might be allies but there was no joy on either side in cooperating in such a manner, but so did their dark master bid it and they were all too terrified to gainsay such orders.

The captain turned to the six captive boys and snarled, "go to sleep. The sooner we reach our destination, the sooner I will be rid of you." He stormed off, leaving the boys in the charge of the two most junior soldiers in the company.

After the camp quieted into the routine of evening, Bayard felt that the time had come to speak, "what have we become entangled in?"

The only boy that had thus far spoken snapped, "quiet, do you want to get us all in trouble?"

"They should at least know what they are facing Rork," said a timid boy from the furthest corner of their small huddle, "you are no Prince here."

Rork scowled, "no, we are all of us slaves, but that gives you no advantage over the rest of us, just because you have been a slave your entire life."

Ithril gaped, "is this true?"

Peppin, the former slave said, "we come from all walks of life from Royal Bloodlines to the most meager of men. None knows how or why they pick whom they will, only that the Dreadlords come and choose one or two or none and send them to Golcamoth, from whence they never return, at least not as mortal men, but once you have been so chosen you have no other choice."

Bayard crossed his arms, "there is always a choice."

A snort from outside their little circle caused them all to cower for a moment as one of the young guards joined their conversation, more curious than upset. Said he, "you have no idea what awaits you. They choose whom they will. If you are selected from amongst the Guard it is considered quite an honor though I myself have no interest in that sort of thing." He shuddered, "and hope never to know quite what that honor entails. But the slave is right. None comes out unchanged. There is but one choice."

Bayard shook his head, "there is always a choice!"

The guard scoffed, "and what would that be my bold little farmer? Have you ever even left your village? I saw your mother weeping as we drug you away and when you return even she will not recognize you."

He shivered again, "but then you will be the one giving me orders."

Ithril asked, "what is he talking about?"

Bayard said grimly, "Golcamoth is where Dreadlords and all such are birthed." They all shuddered at the thought. Continued he, "but we still have a choice."

"And what choice is that? Death?" scoffed the royal hostage.

Bayard looked at his challenger with stern, un-boyish eyes, "that must certainly be better than the living death the Dark One intends. Would you be a miserable slave, doomed for all eternity for utter darkness? These creatures may be powerful but they are wretched to the very core of their being, the Master alone offers true freedom though we buy it with our lives."

A sharp slap across the face silenced the vociferous boy as the captain snarled, "enough boy! I will have no more heresy from you. I would kill you now save that you must arrive at Golcamoth intact, at least there they can do away with you properly. You will submit to your rightful master or you will die in agony. Now silence!" He turned dreadful eyes upon the recalcitrant guard, "for your part in this, you too will make the journey as a captive and you shall have your part in those things you wish to avoid."

The guard gasped in terror but was soon stripped of his weapons and armor, bound, and found himself joining his former prisoners. He said quietly to Bayard, "I hope you are right." There was no sleep for any of them that night.

The days that followed were miserable and tedious to the captives, save perhaps for the Messengers whose physical forms did not suffer from the abuses heaped upon them by their captors and who had an unending hope in their Master. They were roused before dawn, fed an unappetizing gruel, and forced to march all day at the pace set by their mounted captors only to fall into a dejected sleep after an equally bland supper. Day after day and night after night there was no change in their routine, only in the weather. They marched mercilessly through heat, dust, cold, rain, and wind into the very South of the world. Civilization gave way to wildlands and eventually even weeds would not grow in the lands about them. The sun sweltered overhead by day and the wan moon froze them by night. Dust and rocks were the only things that grew in this grey and featureless land. No hill or river broke the dismal plain yet on they marched into the very heart of oblivion. The only bit of joy or interest or hope came in the form of whispered stories and encouragement from the two unflappable Messengers who often found themselves severely punished by their captors for their temerity. But through their efforts, the hearts of their companions did not break as their masters thought they must.

"Six are hand picked by one of the Dreadlords, the other is a rebellious guard of my own command. I leave them in your keeping and take no more responsibility for them," said the captain as he left his captives in the charge of a stunted, grey-skinned creature with horrible teeth and cruel eyes.

The monster said, "so be it. Any problems with this lot?"

The captain laughed darkly, "those two on the end are not quite as hopeless as may be desired but I am sure you will quickly rectify the situation."

The creature smiled hideously, "that will be my pleasure. You may resume your patrol and we shall deal with these wretches." The captain and his men retreated hastily from the grim fortress that was Golcamoth even though evening was well advanced. This was no place where mortal men chose to linger, even those in the sway of his dark majesty. Bayard had glimpsed many of the Dark One's servants in this place, many to which he could give no name, but none were mortal. It seemed the quaking prisoners were the only representatives of humanity in this grim place. The Creature (for that was its name) paced before his new victims, "this place will become either your grave or your path to power. Heretics will not be tolerated. Your journey here will seem an enjoyable thing as compared to that which is to come until we destroy you or you choose wisely. If you wish to spare yourselves the pain to come, you may submit immediately to our dark master or you may suffer the usual penalties until you come to such a decision." The prisoners cowered in terror.

The Creature went on, "one of you is a traitor and two are heretics. We shall make examples of you immediately unless you are willing to submit this very moment."

The two Messengers shook their heads grimly but did not drop their gaze; the young soldier wailed in terror and remorse, "I have been a fool, an utter fool!"

The Creature asked, "have you come to your senses then?"

The guard shook his head, "at last I have seen the Truth. Why could I not see it before? I have been a fool, but no longer. I have made my decision. Proceed as you must."

The Creature grinned vilely, "you are then willing to submit to the Ritual and abandon these foolish mortal ambitions?"

The soldier snorted, "I have no doubt my mortal strivings will soon be over but I will not submit to you or yours. I speak of the True King when I say I have been an ignorant fool. To Him alone will I yield..."

A broad grin escaped Bayard's face as the soldier spoke but it turned to a look of disgust and horror as the boy did not even finish speaking before The Creature was upon him. "Heretics will not be tolerated," said the Creature casually, as it licked the blood from its claws after making short work of the boy whose mangled remains were being fought over by a Fellhound and a Dreadlord's loathsome mount. The survivors shuddered in disgust, but the Creature gave them little time to process this as he turned his vicious gaze again upon the two heretics. Continued he, "now what of you? Will you choose the same end?"

"What would you have of us?" said Bayard boldly.

"Have of you? Have of you?" snarled the Creature, "why I offer you the greatest boon a mortal man can receive! You could become truly powerful! I do not know why people are not lining up outside the fortress demanding this very thing!"

Bayard cocked his head, "then why have you not endured such an ordeal?"

The Creature growled, "I have endured it and was the most powerful creature known to man yet have been reduced to this wretched state for things beyond my control. It is all the fault of my brother and one I once called friend. If ever I see them again they shall be sorry!"

Bayard and Ithril exchanged a horrified look in realizing this thing was Tyne, who apparently was blinded to their true identities, at least for the moment. Ithril gasped, "why would we want to align ourselves with such a fickle master if your fate could be our own?"

Realizing his terrible blunder, the Creature snarled, "because this is paradise compared to what awaits you should you refuse. Why should our master reward failure? Serve well and you have nothing to fear. Fail and..." He ended in mid-sentence with menace heavy in his voice. "Enough," growled the Creature, "you will all decide now or face a truly terrifying death of my choosing. We will not resort to the myriad tortures usually used to convince the reluctant for I sense this entire batch is corrupted and not worth salvaging. Choose!"

The six remaining boys all exchanged horrified looks, wondering what their end would be but it seemed truly to be upon them. The words of the Messengers had done much to encourage them in the hopeless days of their journey and the words of this Creature did little to sway their newfound faith. Only Rork stood forth and said, "I am not ready to die. I will submit to whatever I must, but spare my life."

The Creature smiled in feigned joy, "a wise decision and you will not only save your life but to it we shall add abundantly. What of your friends?"

Rork shook his head, "they are all heretics my lord, the two on the end the worst of all."

The Creature's smile broadened, "then I shall allow you to end their heresy, for the Ritual requires the shedding of such blood as theirs. These others shall die as I choose."

The terrified captives drew closer together as their fate was decided but a great and terrible light suddenly drove all such thoughts out of the minds of all there present. Ithril and Bayard were the only ones not blinded to the vision as Jaden, Aboril, and the young guard swooped in on their Pegassi and bore the three captives bodily away. The former soldier winked at his comrades yet in chains the moment before his Pegassi vanished with all the others. Ithril and Bayard exchanged a joyous look, but schooled their faces to dismay as the light subsided and all could look about unhindered, only to gape in horror for three of the captives were gone.

"What is this?" snarled the Creature, "where is my revenge?" He turned on the three remaining captives and demanded, "what has happened? Were those three mortal boys or of that forsaken sect devoted to the Master?" Rork looked flummoxed and the Messengers kept silent. The Creature roared, "to the altars lest more failure is heaped unwillingly at my door!"

Several things too hideous to describe took up the remaining captives and bore them quickly to the back of the fortress whose back wall held an opening with no gate which looked out upon Nothing. The Messengers shuddered to sense that complete and utter emptiness, empty save for despair, terror, and grief. The vile minions lay the two Messengers upon one altar and Rork was chained to another. Bayard cried out, "do not do this! It is not yet too late!"

A slap from the Creature sent him reeling into darkness as Ithril took up the cry, "do not forever doom yourself! That Nothingness without is all that awaits you..." He too lay stunned as the Creature reprimanded Ithril likewise.

The Wraith that had come forth to oversee the proceedings glanced down at the unmoving victims on the altar; he examined the wretched creatures and drew back with a hiss, "this is madness. We cannot proceed. There is something dreadfully wrong with your victims."

Snarled the Creature, "whatever it is I do not care! If all of these fools escape our master's clutches I am doomed. Begin!"

The Wraith adamantly shook its head, "I will have no part in this. You doom yourself."

The Creature sneered, "so be it. So then shall all the glory be mine." The Wraith shuddered and withdrew to the farthest reaches of the compound. The awful wailing and the terrible silence that followed made the horrid creature grin; he had warned the fool and he had destroyed himself. His previous failure should have earned him banishment into the abyss but their master found it much more amusing to place him in this new wretched position. Even that, now it seemed was doomed to failure. The thing smiled wickedly, where one or two failed, there was always room for advancement for those that succeeded. Those two boys were nothing but Messengers in disguise and forcing them into the Ritual could have nothing but disastrous results. The candidate and all those about him no doubt would end in the Rift and hopefully the victims would destroy themselves in process, but the wretched creatures seemed immune to such things and he knew they would be back. He had tried to warn them. Now how to use this disaster to his advantage?

Bayard and Ithril woke on the Beach with a shudder, half submerged in the miraculous Sea which washed away their recent, quite unnerving experience. Tyne had tried to involve them in his vile Ritual and had unleashed powers and chaos he had no idea how to control. He and his victim were no doubt lost to the abyss, permanently for such a ploy. It had been far from a pleasant experience for all involved. Bayard stood, saying, "I will be quite happy never to endure that again." They both shivered again in remembrance.

Ithril nodded, "Tyne's spear was pleasant by comparison. How long can such outrages go on?"

"Not much longer," said Jaden as his Pegassi suddenly appeared on the Beach, "while you two have been exploring the South of the world, much has happened. There has been a Revival."

Bayard frowned, "we were not gone that long."

Jaden grinned, "only fifty years or so. What is Time to us?" The pair exchanged a surprised look but quickly turned back to Jaden as he continued, "your three freed captives turned out to be quite a boon to our Master's cause. Once free of their terror, they traveled the world telling their tale and whole countries have repented of their ignorance and evil. There is not a soul in all creation who has not heard of the Master! The Whiteguard is the strongest it has ever been, which is a very good thing since Evil is multiplying as well. The End will soon come."

"Actually it is here," said Erian as he and Ithril's mount appeared and greeted their errant masters. Once the boys were in their saddles the Pegassi reared and said, "this is no place for a man afoot."

Bayard frowned in incomprehension for a moment but suddenly the Mountains started to shake and the Sea to roar. Those who dwelt on the Seaward side of the Mountains soon joined the three Messengers on the Beach while the Sea split asunder and allowed all those who dwelt in the Brightlands to come forth. The Sea receded and finally vanished, the Mountains crumbled to minor hills and the Greylands lay open before them. Such a reunion has never been seen before or since, but all the Master's servants found themselves called to that Beach wherever they had been a moment previous and the minions of Evil found themselves gathered together for a final assault on the Master's stronghold, thinking the Mountains had fallen to some plot of the Evil One.

There was a great light about all the Master's servants, but then the Master Himself came forth and His radiance was greater than the combined glory of His servants. The onrushing hoards of darkness simply vanished the moment that light fell upon them. Those poor souls bound neither to the Master or His nemesis fled South in utter terror, never to be seen again. Then the Shadow himself came forth to do what his weaker vassals could not but the utter dark cannot stand before The Light. A great earthquake shook the whole world and laid it waste. The Abyss itself vanished before that light to a place none but the Master knows. When the Light abated, what wonders awaited the Master's own cannot be known by mortal mind.

The Road:
Part I:

Prince Bryant sat in the common room with two sons of the greater lords of Ithamar; they all had older brothers and very little chance of ever taking their fathers' places of import and influence unless their elder brothers succumbed to some mysterious illness or fell in battle. Thus they were relegated to the privileged but socially obscure branch upon which they perched. Much was expected of them by their regal parents but they would win little glory, wealth, or renown for anything they did, though their elder brothers seemed to accrue reverence simply by getting out of bed of a morning. It was a strong glue that bound them together: jealousy of their elder brothers and anger at fate for placing them in such an insignificant position. Most nights they could be found drowning their woes among the city's many inns and drinking houses. When they gathered in such a place, the natives inevitably relocated so as not to find themselves in an awkward confrontation with such important and often drunk personages; the consequences of such an experience never favored the peasants. The boys would drink their fill and complain even more of the hardships of the world while the innkeeper listened and shook his head thinking they knew little of hardship and nothing of real life, at least not life as experienced by the commonfolk on a daily basis.

Ithamar was not the worst of countries in those days in its treatment of its peasants but the taxes were high and common men had few rights in a conflict of interest with the nobility. So they drank and complained and bonded in their seeming sorrow. Then they would stumble home drunk, fall into bed while servants cleaned up the mess, and begin anew their tedious lives on the morrow, succored only by the hope of the coming night.

Bryant's father the King, his elder brother, his mother, his numerous aunts, his grandmother, and everyone else in the Kingdom with the nerve often scolded him about his dissolute habits but he ignored them or scoffed or yelled back, all to no avail. Why did he not lead his father's soldiers as his younger brother did or marry the daughter of some foreign King? Could he not learn something from all the philosophers and sages in the Kingdom and be of use to his father and brother in matters of state? Could he not quietly disappear to his country estates and hunt contentedly in obscurity and not cause a scene? Could he do anything but embarrass all his nearest relations? Deep within he found the whole thing somehow amusing, if only for the consternation it caused his elders; irritating all his nearest relations seemed the only joy he had left in life. On the outside he was all strut and show but within he yearned for meaning and direction and purpose. He was a boat adrift at sea without anchor, rudder, or sail and the storm raged around him with no end in sight. At least he felt as if he had something to look forward to in his nightly carousing but he always came away feeling small and empty and alone as he wandered home to bed in the small hours of the morning.

Dark were his thoughts this night, darker than his usual wont but he felt if he continued to do nothing he would soon do something drastic, whether to himself or others he did not know. He said to his companions, "I am tired of this tedious life we live. Let us do something great or terrible that we might end the tedium and do something to be remembered; even if we do not succeed, it is better to die in the attempt rather than die in obscurity. Shall we be famous or infamous?" His friends laughed drunkenly, for the night was far gone and much wine had passed their lips.

He continued, "as you will not choose I shall have the honor then. Let us be infamous! There are many failed adventurers and heroes and none know their names. I say let us be remembered in infamy, for a villain never truly dies though he live only in legend. We could be bandit kings but why stoop to such a level when we can reach far higher and take what fate herself has denied us? I say we reach for the crown itself my friends! Let us supplant my brother and even my father the King!" He continued to draw heavily from the mug of nameless liquid before him and was lost for many minutes in his treasonous expostulations. Whether he was serious or not, his friends could not tell but his words greatly disturbed them. They continued to listen and ape interest but the plot (what little of it there was, it was mostly grand words and misty aspirations) had quickly sobered them even as it chilled them to the bone. They were as empty inside as the prince but where they were content to enjoy all the privileges their rank could bestow, he had long ago failed to be pleased by such vapid entertainments. He was nearly desperate for something to change and he had almost convinced himself that this was the only way. He finally finished his diatribe and drained his glass. He wandered home and his friends followed at a distance. They saw him safely to bed and then waited sleeplessly for the hour when the King would be abroad.

After an eon, dawn finally revealed her glory and they saw the crown prince emerge from his chambers and they hurried to tell him of his brother's embryonic treachery. He listened gravely to the miserable pair; they did not wish to betray their friend, but their friendship was not such that it would be worth more than their lives if they did not tell and were considered traitors by all and sundry. They finished and the crown prince said, "let us to my father that he may hear these ill tidings."

They hastened to the King's chambers, awakened the slumbering monarch, and told again their terrible tale. The King began to fume and rage while the Queen begged him to be reasonable and speak with Bryant first, before calling for his head, which of course started a Royal argument.

The prince and the two lordlings quickly withdrew from the Royal bedchamber and the prince asked, "is my brother in jest, a drunken fool, or a true traitor?"

They shook their heads, "my lord, we know him little when he is sober; you had best ask him yourself."

The prince said, "I shall." He turned sharply on his heel and went to find his brother before his father could do something rash. Bryant was not happy to be so awakened and his head throbbed terribly but he soon quit complaining when his brother told the reason for his visit. The elder said, "father may very well banish you for such talk if he does not simply call for your head! Are you in earnest?"

Bryant said quietly, "I am not sure myself. I need something to change and this is as good a scheme as any I can think of."

His brother said, "if it had been a drunken jest perhaps father could be appeased but I am afraid his anger shall come swiftly and harshly upon you." Bryant paled, said nothing, grabbed his sword belt and cloak, and fled the room. His brother silently watched him go. He did not wish to see his father's wrath realized but neither could he acknowledge this cold-hearted stranger as his brother. By the time the argument was settled and the guards were sent to bring the errant boy to face his father, he was long fled.

Bryant ran for his life. He was amazed to realize that he might perhaps be a murderous fiend if given the chance if it granted him the end he sought. He had hoped it had all been the ravings of a drunkard but he was horrified to realize that under the right circumstances he might be obliged to do just as he had boasted. He fled his father's wrath but he could not flee the monster that was his own soul. He ran to the stable, found a saddled horse awaiting his rider, flung himself into the saddle, and galloped out of the courtyard. The servant that had been saddling the beast tried to pursue the prince with warning but to no avail; he had stolen a wild and dangerous animal that was stubborn beyond belief and resistant to even the cruelest methods of training. How he even stayed in the saddle was hard to imagine. He was a magnificent animal and had been brought as a gift to the crown prince by rich merchants as something of bribe that he might remember them with favor when he succeeded his father. The creature was physically perfect but had a will of iron and would let no man on his back. The prince was the first to attain such a feat and that unknowingly. So they ran and with the speed of the creature any other horse in the King's stables would have a hard time catching them. The beast would deign to be led and saddled but would carry neither men nor burdens. The crown prince had ordered him saddled and hoped to break him that very morning, hoping to succeed where all others had failed.

They ran hard all day on the shortest road out of the country. As night was falling they finally stopped and the prince nearly collapsed against a tree just over the border. His heart sank and his hand reached for his sword as he heard the sound of galloping hooves drawing swiftly nigh. Six of his father's guards drew rein a bowshot from the prince and one aimed his arrow at the weary boy. The bowstring sang and the prince dove to the ground as an arrow embedded itself in the tree just above where his head had been. The guards then turned and rode off slowly into the dying day. Cautiously the prince stood and pulled the arrow from the tree. He found a small piece of paper attached to the shaft and the message read, "know you now that you are henceforth banished from all the domains of Ithamar and all title, privilege, and rank is hereby denied you. If you should ever return it will be as a criminal and an outlaw and your life is forfeit unless spared by the mercy of the King."

Bryant sighed and said to the night air, "I wanted things to change and they have, but not in the way I intended. I am now an exile, a wanderer, an outlaw, a fugitive, with no home, people, or place to call my own. I am a fool."

The sweat-lathered horse snorted and said, "you are certainly all of that, as am I, but you need not be a fool."

The prince sat down hard in surprise and exhaustion and said, "horses do not talk."

The horse eyed him patiently and said, "perhaps, but then again it may be that just the horses of your acquaintance have never spoken. Either that or I am not a horse." He snorted in amusement.

Taking the hint, the former prince said, "if you are not a horse then what are you?"

The unhorse said, "let us just say I have been banished from amongst my own noble and glorious people and reduced to the state in which you currently find me. I have been stripped of all that makes my people unique and left a mortal nag."

The unprince said, "and what did you do to become as you are? Who are your people and where do they come from?"

The unhorse said, "perhaps one day I shall tell you all the tale but for now you must suffice yourself with what I have already revealed. What of you?"

The boy sighed, "last night in a drunken rage I spoke of doing terrible things only to awake and find that all know of my theoretical treachery and that some part of me is not horrified that I am capable of such acts. I can flee my father's wrath but I cannot run from my own wretchedness."

The horse looked at him thoughtfully and said, "until now I have revealed myself to no one, but trapped as I am, I shall go mad if I trust no one and soon shall think myself nothing but a silly horse in truth. Seeing as we are both rebels and outlaws, perhaps we can travel together for a time. I will allow you upon my back in exchange for your aide in keeping me out of the hands of strangers who would happily confiscate a wandering horse as I will seem if I travel alone."

The boy laughed weakly, "I admit to you that I am a traitor and willing to do murder and yet I alone of all men am the man you choose to trust?"

The horse said, "you have not yet killed anyone and the fact that you are horrified at your own thoughts means there is yet some hope for you. We are both rebels and outcasts, perhaps together we can find redemption upon the road. Besides, you are alone and desperate and need me as much as I need you. You shall not get far afoot."

"Where then shall we go?" asked the former prince.

The horse shook his head, "I do not know. Even if I returned to the lands of my people I would not be allowed to or even capable of entering that blessed place. You have no skills or relations that might benefit you in the wide world?" The boy shook his head. The horse sighed, "then let us go north for now until something draws us elsewhere." The boy nodded his agreement for one direction was as good as any other at the moment. They wandered off the road a short distance and the boy was soon asleep.

Morning came and the boy rose damp and stiff but much refreshed. He had brought nothing to eat or to start a fire with. Neither did he have a bow. He had his sword and dagger upon his hastily grabbed belt; his belt pouch was full of coins but there was nowhere to buy breakfast either. He refreshed himself in a swiftly running creek, saddled the horse, and they were soon off though the boy's stomach complained bitterly. The horse remarked, "it would be a far easier journey if you could sate yourself with grass as all sensible creatures do."

The boy laughed and said, "you are the only sensible herbivore I have ever met. All other creatures that go on four legs have remained thankfully silent."

The horse retorted, "that only makes them more sensible, for only man opens his mouth and makes sounds for no reason. At least doubt remains as to whether the silent beasts are truly fools or not; man has proved himself thus time and time again by his speech."

About midday they stopped in a small village and the boy purchased what he would need for the journey and some much appreciated food. They continued on until nightfall at which point, the boy made a rough camp and the horse wandered off for his nightly meal. They continued on in this manner for several days and nothing truly remarkable happened. They were traveling north through Sebeka: the neighboring Kingdom to Ithamar, a peaceful and prosperous country that welcomed strangers and their coin even more so.

The horse said one day as they rode along, "what know you of happenings in the wide world?"

The boy said, "I paid little attention to world events, current or historic, save for a little about our closest neighbors. Now I begin to regret my inattention to my studies, for now I see the use of them when previously I thought it all nonsense."

The horse said, "I know little of the countries of men but I shall tell you what I know of your world in general. It is a vast place and there are many kings and kingdoms; some are prosperous and peaceful, others are evil and warlike, and there are all shades between. There is also much unclaimed and wild land where all manner of beasts and folk strange to men are to be found. Much of what you consider myth or legend is actually true and flourishes in such places. In the far south dwells an Evil Prince with much sway in the world. His minions ride wherever they will and do as they please, causing much grief amongst innocent folk. His kingdom is called the Infernal Realm and is separated from all else by impassable mountains though any who wish can freely enter his gates. All is sere and waste within a hundred miles of those vile peaks and he holds sway over all within their shadow. Many of the Kings closest to his domain are his vassals and nearly as vile as he. He is a rebel against the Great King who dwells far to the north in the Brightlands and once was his greatest servant. A great chasm in the earth, called the Rift by men, separates those dear lands from all others."

He continued, "it is said that the Rift is a rift indeed, in time itself and that it has no bottom. No mortal can cross that chasm save by the will of the Great King or his dear son, the True Prince whose will is always that of his father. It is from the Blessed Mountains that rim the Brightlands that my own kin come and from thence was I banished. Between the Brightlands and the Infernal Realm are the Grey Lands in which mortal men dwell and that encompass all you know as real. It is in this strange place that you are born, live, and die. After you pass the gates of death you must enter either the Brightlands, if you are a willing subject of the Great King, else you come under the dominion of the Dark Prince and come never more forth from the Infernal Realms. One day the Great King will reclaim the Grey Lands and forever banish the Dark Prince beyond his own mountains and seal the gate that none may pass out again. Then will all the world be as it was meant to, before rebellion brought death and sorrow upon the face of the earth."

The boy paled, "I have heard stories and legends of such things but never thought them more than tales. You tell me this is the truth! Whatever is a rebel of my standing to do? Am I doomed to dwell in that terrible place for all eternity?"

The horse shook his head, "I am a rebel myself and doomed to the same fate unless we can find a way out. My people are immortal and true and willing servants to the Great King, but alas I refused the duty he asked of me and I was thus banished. We never spoke of redemption for we had no need of such a concept, but on these shattered shores on which I find myself the need is truly great. We must seek out one who can tell us this mystery."

The boy nodded glumly and hoped with all his heart that a way could be found out of this pit of his own making. At least he knew now why they rode north; he had no wish to be nearer those awful lands than he absolutely had to be. "What or who are we looking for?" asked the boy.

The horse said, "there are supposedly men abroad, servants of the Great King, knowledgeable in all things pertaining to him and his dealings with fallen men. It is one of these learned men that we seek, to learn what must be done to redeem ourselves."

"Where are such folk to be found?" asked the boy.

The horse snorted in laughter, "an excellent question. I know little of mortal lands and know only what I have personally observed since my arrival in this dismal sphere and that which I have overheard men speak in my presence. Sadly, I seem to know more than you who were born in this place."

The boy nodded glumly, ashamed of all he had failed to learn in his life and of all the time he had spent drowning himself in a mug of ale. The boy said, "perhaps instead of isolating ourselves of an evening, I should visit the local tavern and see if I cannot learn something of these mystics you speak of."

The horse nodded in approval, "an excellent proposition." They stopped early that evening, for they would not reach the next village before dark. The horse said to the boy, "be careful, for there are men who do not hold the Great King in high favor. The Dark Prince has spies and servants everywhere."

The boy smiled, "you are worried for my safety?"

The horse smiled, "let us just say it would be a far more difficult journey alone." The boy smiled in return and went into the inn while the horse wandered off into the night.

The boy took a seat far to the back and watched quietly from his private corner. The innkeeper eyed him speculatively but said nothing for he caused no trouble. The boy watched the quiet conversations, tavern games, and the comings and goings of the various patrons. He marked out several shady looking characters but saw no one who seemed an ideal source of information. Full dark fell outside the grimy windows and a ragged traveler traipsed into the inn and wandered to the back of the common room. He surveyed the men scattered about the establishment and his eyes fell upon the boy, obviously a fellow stranger in this place. He made his way to the back and asked if he might share the boy's small table. The boy was intrigued by the stranger and nodded. The man took a seat, the serving girl brought him a bowl of stew and some bread, and as he ate his meal he said, "what brings you to this place lad? One does not often see such youngsters wandering alone, save perhaps a few adventurous lads looking to be heroes."

The boy said, "I wander because I must. My past is behind and all my unknown future lies ahead. I seek hope in a hopeless world and quiet for a disquiet heart."

The man smiled secretively and said quietly, "the world is not quite as hopeless as you might think though sometimes it is dangerous to speak of that which is a light in even the darkest night. I am willing to speak with you of such things but perhaps in a place less obvious."

The boy nodded gravely and said, "my companion and I have ridden far in search of such knowledge. We are both wanderers seeking rest. What do you suggest?"

The man smiled, "let me finish my meal and then we shall talk for a time of trivialities to allay the suspicions of all here. Then you can wander off into the night and I shall follow when convenient. Wait for me along the road but well out of sight." The boy nodded and they proceeded as planned.

Half an hour after the boy had gone, the man trudged wearily out into the dark, a man obviously too poor to afford a bed in such a place. A few eyed him speculatively but returned to their drinks seeing nothing obviously to their benefit in yet another penniless traveler. The man wandered out into the road and waited silently until the boy crawled out of hiding and drew his attention. They vanished down an overgrown trail into a little clearing. The moon stood high and gave enough light to cast their faces into shadow. "Where is your companion?" asked the curious man. The boy smiled silently in amused anticipation as a horse walked out of the shadowed woods and stopped before the man and looked at him as if awaiting some reply. The man looked from the horse to the boy and back again.

"Well?" asked the horse, "I have been told that this little interlude shall be worth missing part of my evening meal."

The man gaped, "I have not had the pleasure of meeting a talking horse before, unless of course you are not actually a horse?"

The horse smiled in pleasure, "finally a man with some sense! Long have I hoped to meet such a specimen. I of course am no horse, save perhaps in appearance. And who pray tell are you and how come you to know more of wisdom than most men I have encountered?"

The man smiled in amusement and said, "who I am is of no particular import save that I am a servant of the Great King and have seen many strange and wonderful things in my wanderings on his behalf. And who might you be, my curious friends?"

The horse snorted in amusement, "who we are matters as little as does your identity. But know we are outcasts and rebels seeking forgiveness and a brighter future. We have high hopes that you might be able to tell us of such things."

The man nodded, "as are all who roam these Grey Lands. What know you of the state of the world and that which lies beyond?"

The horse said, "we know of the Great King and the sundering of all those who have rebelled against him, including the Dark Prince and all mankind. We seek to know if there is any way to restore that which has been destroyed. Can a creature sundered from its Maker by rebellion and iniquity be restored to fellowship with Him?"

The man smiled, "that is the question that wrings the heart of all mortal creatures. A creature in willing rebellion against his King cannot do aught to redeem himself. For what is the worth of anything we can do of ourselves? Our greatest and noblest deeds are nothing but soiled rags to the Great King yet each of our smallest sins cuts his great heart like a knife."

The horse sighed, "then all is lost?"

The man smiled joyfully and said, "thankfully no. We cannot redeem ourselves but one greater than us has paid the price for our folly; all we need do is accept the King's pardon on his behalf and live our lives in accordance with the will of our new Lord and Master."

The horse looked startled, "who could bear such a burden and yet be acceptable to the King?"

The man said grimly, "it was the King's own Son who bore the penalty of our rebellion and for a moment even his own father could not look upon him for the shame he bore. He willingly left the Brightlands to dwell in infamy among mortals only to meet a cruel and humiliating end and to give as it seemed, a great victory to the Vile Prince, but that was not the end of the story. He overthrew death, bore the curse each of us should have borne ourselves, and was restored to his proper place beside his father. The Vile Prince was dealt a cruel blow that shall one day be made complete when the True Prince returns in triumph to overthrow evil and death forever."

The boy said, "why would such a great and mighty Prince do that for the weak and wretched of the earth when he could dwell untroubled in glory?"

The man said in awe, "that is the mystery and the beauty of it. Some call it love but such a love no mortal mind can comprehend. What will you make of this tale you have just heard? Will you go away laughing at the foolishness of an old man while seeming to tolerate me while in my presence or will you take my tale as truth and give your life that you might save it?"

The boy asked nervously, "what must I do to accept this great offer?"

The man smiled and said, "simply repent of your evil in the name of the Son and seek to live your life according to the Father's will."

The boy said, "and how will I know his will?"

The man smiled, "you will know. If you are in earnest, the King's Spirit will be with and help you to know good from evil, right from wrong. You must seek out that which is good and noble and beautiful and pure. Flee that which is evil, ignoble, dishonest, wicked, selfish, and impure. Love all men as you love yourself and love the King with all that is within you."

"And what of me?" asked the horse.

"What of you?" asked the man, "you are a sapient creature in rebellion against the Great King and therefore capable of seeking his gift of redemption to himself."

The horse said sadly, "but I have dwelt in the Blessed Mountains, across the River which mortal men call the Rift. I am one of the Pegassi and banished to dwell a mortal horse in these sad lands for refusing that for which my race is bred. Can even I seek this gift?"

The man smiled gently, "that you can ask that question and worry about its answer should be answer enough. Seek the King and I think you have nothing to fear. Were you yet of a stubborn and proud heart and refused his gift I think there would be no hope, but yet your heart is supple, humble, and willing. I have no fear for you."

The horse was stunned, "how come you to know my sin?"

The man smiled ruefully, "the root of all sin is pride and selfishness. For that is the crime of the Dark Prince and Enemy of the Great King. A humble and meek heart is hardly capable of such aspirations."

The boy then asked, "and what shall I do with my life once I have accepted the King as Lord and Master? Must I become a wandering spokesman like you?"

The man laughed, "perhaps that will be your duty but perhaps not. There are many things the King's servants are called to do. You will know in your heart that which you must do if you fervently ask it of the King. You say you are a rebel and an outlaw? I would advise you to return to the place from whence you have fled and face the justice that is due you and the forgiveness of those you have wronged. Then you can seek what your life has in store."

The boy was aghast, "I thought accepting the Son freed me from all iniquity and the penalties attendant thereunto."

The man smiled sadly, "he frees us from the eternal penalties for such actions but we must yet face the mortal consequences of our actions while life lasts. You cannot be right with the King if you are not right with your brothers."

The boy was stunned, "how did you know I wronged my brother?"

The man smiled, "I meant your fellow men not just your male siblings. Go home and make things right child and remember to forgive others as you seek to be forgiven."

They talked long into the night but finally succumbed to exhaustion. They parted company in the morning and each continued on his own respective journey, each missing the other as if losing a dear friend though they had known each other only for a few hours. The horse, whose name was Erian, chose to accompany the boy home that he might make amends to his father and brother and face whatever justice they chose to mete out. The traveler went on his way to seek out those who, like his former companions, were desperate for the truths he carried.

The journey was swiftly made, the boy was not happy to perhaps be facing death but felt such a peace and purpose within himself that he did not fear the future, even if it meant his demise. The horse did not wish to go back into captivity but he and the boy had discussed it and if things went ill with the boy, the horse could easily escape once someone took him out of the great walled city for a ride in the country. If the boy survived the encounter with his father and was not imprisoned for life, they thought to seek the Master's will for their lives together. Erian never thought to develop such an attachment to a human but was happy to again have a friend, though he dreaded what end the boy might meet at the hands of his own kin. He had rather come to enjoy their time together and hoped he would not soon be alone again. Finally the day came when they crossed the borders into Ithamar and would soon face the wrath of the King. It was not long before six soldiers in the uniform of the Royal Guard came upon them. They were stunned to learn who the lonely stranger was and wasted no time in drawing their swords to take the rebel and traitor.

The boy drew his own sword and dagger, but only to throw them to the ground and then placed his hands on his head in surrender. The captain nearly fell out of his saddle with amazement but feared the boy might be trying his hand at some trick. He ordered his men forward and they surrounded the boy with swords bared. The captain searched the boy, cruelly bound his hands behind his back, and took the reins of the 'silly horse.' One of his men retrieved the boy's weapons and they set out in triumph for the city. They said nothing to the rebel, save to mock him in his shameful return; the boy refrained from speaking. They entered the city and the citizens mocked and jeered as he passed while cheering the brave soldiers who had captured the renegade. The King had widely publicized the incident and its consequences, and the boy was in disfavor with the citizenry after his many intoxicated adventures in the city's various inns. They arrived in the courtyard of the castle and many were the servants and guards who for a moment stood about in abject shock, before hustling off to inform the King of his ignominious guest. The boy slid form his saddle under the watchful eyes of a dozen armed men; he smiled sheepishly at the horse, who whinnied in reassurance and was led away to the stables.

The boy was taken to meet his father with all the court and his entire family looking on. The boy stood before their Majesties head bowed and tears burning in his eyes. The King wore a grim look and his mother's eyes held silent shame and horror that one of her own children could be so terrible. The King said in a voice like thunder in the hills, "what have you to say for yourself? I half expected you to return with an enemy army, come to force your point, if you returned at all."

The boy could stand it no longer and went to his knees before his father as the court gasped in amazement. The King's jaw dropped and for the first time hope lit the Queen's face. The boy said, "I fled a proud and foolish boy. I return in shame and dishonor, but duty bids me to return and face what my shameful acts have earned."

"Duty?" scoffed the King, "what know you of duty?"

The boy wept openly, "I know very little Sire, but I could not go on living knowing your wrath yet hung over my head. Know that I am guilty of all that you have heard. I am also guilty of living wantonly and selfishly, with no regard for any save myself. I return to you a broken and humbled child. Forgive my idiocy and irreverent thoughts and deeds. Let justice be met in your eyes, as well as in the eyes of the court and all the citizens of Ithamar."

The King gaped, "you are my son are you not?" The boy met his father's gaze and the man saw the truth of the boy's words written in eyes red with weeping. The King shook his head and said, "I threatened you with death should you have the gall to return, but I also spoke of the possibility of mercy. Tell me truly, is this drastic change of heart real or simply a ploy to save your life?"

The boy said, "my life is yours to take if you will it thus. This shattered wretch you see before you is the man I have become in my absence; it is no act."

The King shook his head, "and what has engendered such a change? You fled a traitor and return an honorable man that I would not be ashamed to call my son."

The boy smiled weakly and said, "I have discovered that there is more to life than my own selfish and empty desires. I have found him who can forgive my past and shortcomings and who enables me to become more than I could ever aspire to be. I am a servant of the Great King and his blessed Son."

At this admission the whole court was suddenly in uproar. They of course had heard the tales and thought them all stories and wishful thinking, for there could be no Great King any more than there was a Dark Prince or unicorns or griffins. Such things were simply bedtime tales to teach children morality and hasten them to sleep and nothing more. The King was enraged, "I begin to offer you mercy and you dare blame your radical transformation on children's tales?"

The boy said quietly, "they are not stories Sire, they are the truth and the only hope for mankind. Am I not living proof of their power?"

The King shook his head, satisfied that the boy did not mock him, but fearful that he was a lunatic. Finally he said, "I have stripped you of all rank and title and this I cannot and will not restore. However, seeing your change of heart I will spare you from death. You may come and go freely within Ithamar and all its domains but only as a commoner. You have no rank or privilege among the nobility unless one of us cares to humor you for a time. What say you?"

The boy stood and said, "it is more than I deserve Majesty, you can lawfully do with me as you please. I thank you for your mercy." He bowed deeply and all the court gasped again. Most would rather face death than live stripped of rank and privilege as the boy felt inclined to do.

The King smiled slightly, "you may at least call me father once more. That is the one privilege I shall not revoke. You will never inherit my throne but you are still my son. For once I can say that I am not ashamed of you."

The family then withdrew to a private room to discuss things further, leaving the court to gossip amongst themselves while wild rumors spread like wildfire through the servants, guards, and townsfolk. The joyful Queen greeted her errant son. The King embraced the boy a bit stiffly but gradually warmed to the idea. His younger siblings were ecstatic. His elder brother smiled warmly and welcomed home a brother he could finally be proud of, if in a strange way.

"So," said the King, "what are your plans now that you have a future?"

The boy smiled ruefully and said, "I think I shall remain in Ithamar for a time telling all who will listen of the grace that was granted me. Meanwhile I hope to discover of what service I can be to the King."

The King was quite pleased, "all you need do is ask my dear son."

The boy said quietly, "I am sorry father, but I was not speaking of your grace, though I am very thankful for it; I was speaking of the Great King and what his Son has done for us all. It is him I must now serve with all my being."

The King gaped, "men will think you mad! You will be shunned and perhaps beaten or killed if you proclaim such things openly. Can you not abandon this nonsense? You have been restored to life; why court death once more?"

The boy said, "What I once called life was but a living death. How now can I abandon Him who restored me to true life? I will not return to being half alive now that I have tasted of true life even though I die for it. I know it to be true and I would gladly give my life in service to my Lord. Men may think what they wish but I care only for my Master's opinion." He bowed politely and left the room leaving his entire family quite stunned.

His mother spoke quietly with her husband and then hurried after her son. She found him sitting quietly in one of the gardens and said, "your father has agreed to house you in the servants' quarters, though how long his favor will last if you persist in your current way of thinking I do not know. I am glad you have found your peace and it gives me much to think about and stirs great hope within me. Tell me more." And he did.

He stayed in the palace for a day or two but no one wanted to be preached at by the hypocritical and half-mad boy as they thought him; those who were curious found themselves silenced by fear of what others might think. The boy then moved into the city with his message and there found a few who listened but more who mocked, jeered, or even showered him with rotten produce. He became something of a local joke and people began to think him mad in truth to tolerate such treatment day by day and wondered that he did not stop and become 'rational' as they saw it. Erian accompanied him often on these forays, being ill at ease in the palace stables alone. After one such afternoon the horse remarked, "a prophet is not without honor, save in his hometown."

Bryant cocked an eyebrow and smiled saying, "a sage piece of advice my friend and just who did you steal it from?"

The horse did his best to shrug and said, "I suppose I heard it once somewhere but who is to say it is not of my own making?"

They shared a much needed laugh and turned back towards the castle when an aura of fear froze them in their tracks. The townsfolk also seemed to sense the terror and cowered where they stood, shrunk behind doorways and walls, or fled. A thing that looked a man all in black armor with embers for eyes and naked bones under a thin veiling of translucent skin, barely visible beneath the metal carapace, rode ominously down the street upon some terrible creature that was equine in shape, but draconian in feature with claws for feet, a scaled hide, and a mouth full of terrible teeth. The black rider looked over the cowering townsfolk disdainfully, as a woman might a dead mouse in her pantry. Even a trio of the King's guards stepped back in dread as those eyes fell upon them.

Finally the roving gaze fell upon the boy. The fell beast stopped and the rider looked upon the boy; one could feel his terrible smile hidden beneath the faceplate of the helmet. The boy felt that gaze and knew what it meant to be utterly hated. Erian's head was down and he trembled in terror. The creature moved towards the horse and his rider and when close enough, the dark apparition reached out and grabbed the frozen boy and plucked him from Erian's saddle. The boy's terror turned to desperation not to be captured by the wraith; he fought and struggled vainly against the inhumanly strong arm that clutched him; he might as well have tried to move a mountain.

"Stop struggling wretch," growled a voice like a wind from the tomb. A chill breath from the black form touched the boy's face and he went cold and limp as one dead. The dark rider produced a length of dark cord and bound the boy hand and foot; he turned his mount and rode out of the city with the boy tied across the croup of his saddle. The city seemed to breath a sigh of relief with the apparition gone, and all were silently thankful it had not come for them. Erian recovered himself enough to follow the vile pair at a distance but had little hope of freeing his friend. He had heard rumors of such things before but had hoped never to see one with his own eyes; what could a Dreadlord want with the boy? Certainly the deadliest and most vile servants of the Dark Prince could have no love for the servants of the Great King but why waste such a valuable resource on one boy? He wished that he had tried to protect his friend when the vile thing had come for him, but he knew all he could have done was die in vain.

They traveled day and night, never stopping for rest or water and the vile rider pressed ever south. Erian was exhausted and faint but refused to slacken in his pursuit lest he lose any chance of rescuing Bryant, though as the miles passed his hope quickly faded. Prisoners of the Dark Lord did not live long and the time left them was filled with such misery and torment that they welcomed death when it finally came. On the brink of collapse, the Pegassi thought he was hallucinating when he saw a griffin (another creature he had hoped never to encounter personally) silently stoop out of the sky, unhorse the loathsome rider, and carry the boy bodily away (after a brief struggle with the cord securing him to the riding beast). The Dreadlord stood, watched the predator wing swiftly north and vanish beyond the horizon, he seemed to laugh to himself, and rode off to trouble further innocents.

Erian finally collapsed upon the road from shock and exhaustion. The griffin flew back to its lair high atop a bluff overlooking a great river that flowed through that forested hill country. The boy finally stirred, though he had barely drawn breath for two days while in the Dreadlord's clutches. The first thing he saw was the great beaky maw open above him and he struggled vainly against his bonds to be free of this new terror. The creature seemed to find his victim's ordeal amusing and lowered his head and closed the gaping beak upon his original target: the boy's bonds. Seeing the creature did not mean to make a meal of him (at least immediately), the boy relaxed and waited to see what strange adventure had flung itself upon him.

"Now," said the griffin, once he had freed his prisoner, "tell me what a Dreadlord would want with the likes of you?"

The boy looked at the creature in astonishment as he sat up and began working life back into his hands and feet. He said, "you are not going to devour me? I did not think griffins real and if they were, I thought them all monsters. I did not even know what a Dreadlord was until I saw that thing, if that is indeed what it is called? I know even less of what interest it would have in me. What is a Dreadlord anyway?"

The creature laughed, "if I were going to eat you I certainly would have been about it already. Many of my kind are cruel and devious creatures, some have become little more than ravaging beasts in mind as well as habit. But there are a few of us who fear the King and thus keep his laws. Griffins are quite real my young friend, as I am certainly proof; much of what you might consider legend lives and breathes and roams the earth. As for Dreadlords, you certainly made a closer study of the abominable things than most have and none I know have lived to tell the tale if they had. They are the dearest servants of the Enemy: evil men of vile intention sometimes go to the gates of the Infernal Realm seeking such power. They are always allowed to enter but none know which ever emerge, for they all look the same and there is no way to differentiate one from another. Those so chosen undergo terrible rituals to become something that is truly a living death. No mortal blade can injure them. Few mortal hearts can stand against the fear they inspire and no mortal horse."

The boy said, "is there any hope for mortal man if the Enemy has such servants?"

The griffin continued, "thankfully there are only ever seven of the creatures abroad at a time. Those who seek such service are more often denied the terrible honor they demand and are made Soldiers instead: a less terrible but certainly evil servant of the Enemy, with few thoughts of their own and almost completely under the control of the Dreadlords, though there are certainly more of them about. They never go about alone thankfully, save in the shadow of the Mountains of Night on the borders of the Infernal Realms. Otherwise they are always in the company of a Dreadlord for they are quite helpless without. You have seen the vile mounts of the Dreadlords; the Soldiers ride what appear to be mortal horses but so mutilated and terrible that they seem to share in their masters' living death. But while mortals may tremble in the presence of these dread servants of the Enemy, the King has not left us alone, for there are those who have the power to oppose them. This does not guarantee a rescue but it gives hope to an otherwise hopeless situation. I take it from the Dreadlord's interest in you that you are a servant of the King?"

The boy nodded in awe and horror at what he had just heard. The griffin mused, "usually they would kill outright such a bothersome pest as they would see you. Why go to all the trouble of carrying you back to his vile master? They will carry back the more famous or effective servants of the King in hopes of turning them away from the King or at least giving them a horrible death. What was a Dreadlord doing in the middle Kingdoms anyway? They are usually found in the south, in lands more firmly in the sway of the Dark One. What were you up to when the thing found you?"

The boy said, "I was trying to touch the hard hearted people of Ithamar and was having little effect."

The griffin laughed, "Ithamar! You certainly set yourself impossible tasks! They are quite a hard headed people and no one has been able to penetrate their hearts of stone in many long years. They consider the King and everything outside the bounds of man myth! I wonder what the appearance of a Dreadlord among them might do? He might make more of a dent in their proud hearts than a hundred years of preaching ever could else he may drive them further into their stubborn assertions that mankind is all there is and ever was. What made you choose Ithamar?" The boy smiled ruefully and told his story.

The griffin was quite astonished, "that is quite a tale. I doubt it would be a good idea for you to return home but perhaps this presents an opportunity for another to try his hand. The Dreadlord would certainly return for you, once they lay claim to a victim they will not rest in their pursuit until he is utterly destroyed. Thankfully your captor will think you dead by my claws. Your people are also not apt to listen to you but perhaps this incident will soften their hearts and open their minds enough for a stranger to succeed where a local son is mocked. This could be quite a breakthrough for the King. The middle Kingdoms, such as Ithamar, are notorious for their skepticism while the southern kingdoms are steeped in evil and those to the north are nearly lost to pride, self-righteousness, and legalism, thinking themselves the sole servants of the King when they are in truth far from him."

"What then should I do?" asked the boy.

The griffin smiled, "that I cannot say. You must find whatever it is the King would have you do in his service. Fear not, for a willing heart will certainly find its way though it will not necessarily be a pleasant or easy task."

The boy smiled, "I know already that the King's message is not that popular among most folk!" He paled, "what of my family who think me dead or worse? What became of Erian?"

The griffin cocked his head, "I was going to tell one of the Wanderers, the King's servants who wander from place to place telling others of the King, that perhaps he should visit Ithamar. I shall ask him to give tidings of your safety to your family. Who is Erian?"

The boy looked both relieved and worried, wondering how much of Erian's tale he dare tell the griffin. He said, "he is my friend and former companion in exile until I returned home from my brief wanderings. He was with me when the Dreadlord came but I knew nothing more until I awoke here."

The griffin said, "I saw no other men."

The boy said with some amusement, "he is not a man but appears a horse, though he is not a horse by lineage." The griffin looked skeptical; the boy laughed and said, "I shall let him tell his tale if we can find him. I do not think the Dreadlord recognized him for a thinking creature and thus spared him nor do I think he was long in pursuit."

The griffin shook his head, "Dreadlords require neither food nor rest nor water and can press on at great speed relentlessly. A horse would not last long in such a chase, but I shall seek your friend upon the road. Come, climb upon my back and we shall seek your friend together." Bryant did as he was bidden and climbed onto the creature's back and clung tightly that he might not fall. The creature leapt into the air and winged his way towards the road.

They had not far to go from the place the griffin had encountered the Dreadlord, for they found Erian collapsed beside the road, caked with sweat and dust, and breathing heavily. The griffin had hardly landed before the boy leapt from his back and ran to his prone friend. A water skin was yet secured to the saddle and Bryant used some of the precious fluid to revive his friend. The horse felt the cold water on his face and started awake. He would have fallen in shock had he not already been down when he saw his friend alive and well with a curious griffin at his shoulder. He shook himself all over and struggled to his feet.

He said weakly, "we had best get off the road and I desperately need a drink." Slowly he made his way under the cover of the trees and thankfully found a small brook chattering happily in the midst of the glade He drank as much as he dared, the boy helped him off with his tack, rubbed him down with handfuls of grass, and then he gratefully lay down once more. "Now," said the horse, "tell me how it is you are alive after an encounter with both a griffin and a Dreadlord." The boy told as much as he knew of the tale.

Then the griffin asked, "how is it that a seeming horse can talk?"

The horse eyed him skeptically but was grateful for his rescue of the boy and also his having refrained from killing them both, so Erian said, "it is quite true that I am only a horse in form. By birth I am one of the Pegassi, but I was banished from that noble people for my arrogance and have since been humbled and returned to the King's service, but still remain in this lesser form, probably unto death. Learn well my friend the price of rebellion against our Great Lord."

The griffin nodded grimly and then said, "I must be off on other errands now that you are both relatively safe, but I shall return and check on you upon my return." He was suddenly gone and the boy and horse exchanged an amazed smile.

They stayed in that place for several days while Erian recovered his strength. The griffin returned occasionally to chat and often brought the boy a rabbit or some part of a deer. The horse lived quite well on the local vegetation. Finally Erian felt ready to be on the road once more and asked, "where shall we go next, my dear and reckless friend? Since your father's kingdom is not a place we can go, where then shall our road take us?"

The boy looked to the griffin who shook his head, "I am of little use to either of you in this matter I am afraid. I have spoken to one of the local Wanderers and he was quite eager to attend to the strange needs of Ithamar."

The boy sighed, "I know little of the world. How am I to know my place in it?"

The horse snorted, "at least you were born to it."

The boy suddenly remembered what the griffin had said at their first meeting and brightened as he asked, "you once mentioned that there were those servants of the King who could fight against the Dreadlords and the other fell servants of the Enemy. Who are they and how are they chosen?" The horse and griffin looked at him in astonishment and then exchanged an incomprehensible look: the griffin one of surprise and the horse one of dread.

The griffin said, "they are called the Messengers and I know little of them. I thought perhaps your friend would have told you more of them."

The Pegassi shifted from foot to foot and looked at the ground. The griffin and the boy were silent but looked at him expectantly until he said, "it was for this very reason that I was exiled from my home and people. The service my people render the King is to bear his servants into battle against the Enemy's fell minions. I was asked to serve but refused in stubbornness and pride, unwilling to bear a man upon my back, even for so noble a cause and under so great a banner. I know nothing more of these men than the name and that my people serve as their faithful mounts. Now I am but a mere horse and bear willingly a boy of no renown and we ride alone. If only I had done as I was asked I would not be alone and would have a noble cause and my Lord's pleasure."

The boy was wide eyed in amazement and said, "I think it is to this that I am called. I would seek them out and join them if I am allowed. You need not join me in my quest if it discomfits you my friend."

The horse laughed, "you faced your past and now I must face mine. I will accompany you on this adventure, even if I must part from you at its end, for a mere horse can be of no service to such folk." The boy embraced the horse's neck in thanks.

The griffin said, "may the King guide your steps my friends. We are all soldiers in this war and each of us serves in our own way. Until we meet again." He took to the air and they saw him no more.

The boy asked as he climbed into the saddle, "of which war does he speak?"

The horse laughed, "did you not know these are embattled lands and have been since the dawn of time? Since the Enemy revolted, he has waged war against the King and with the rebellion of man and various other inhabitants of creation, it has been full scale war between good and evil across the whole scope of time and space and even beyond. We are all in a battle even if most do not know it. You have declared yourself for the King and therefore are an enemy to the Dark Prince. Those who have not declared for the King are in the Enemy's clutches, as much as his most devoted and intentional servants."

The boy said, "I thought the King had already won."

The horse snorted, "he has, but the Enemy has not yet been overthrown and cast forever beyond his blighted mountains. The war rages on and a defeated and desperate foe fights all the harder. Though it might seem like the fiend is winning, in the grand scheme of things he has already lost. That is why it is so important that all are told of the Great War that they might choose on which side to fight rather than fall victim to ignorance and the lies of the Enemy."

The boy asked, "but what is the prize in this war? I doubt the Enemy cares much for land or riches."

The horse said grimly, "he cares for nothing of the sort. It is a war for the souls of all sapient creatures. The Enemy will use all within his power to destroy, corrupt, and discredit the servants of the King and to keep all others ignorant, skeptical, or disdainful of the Son and his sacrifice on our behalf."

"It seems an impossible fight," said the boy.

The horse laughed, "it would be, save our Lord is master of all we consider impossible and he is quite capable of succeeding in such a feat."

The boy smiled and no longer feared the outcome of the ancient war, though his part in it was still hidden from him. They traveled north once more, not wishing to draw any closer to the Infernal Realms or the southern countries so steeped in evil, tyranny, war, and despotism. They skirted Ithamar not wishing to enter again into those lands lest they draw the Dreadlord's attention once more.

"Where exactly are we going?" asked the boy one day as they rode along.

The horse said, "we are seeking information about these Messengers of yours so we had best ask someone who might actually know something. Else we could spend the rest of our lives in fruitless search."

The boy asked, "and who knows anything of that mysterious folk? Even the griffin was ignorant of anything concerning them and he is a long lived beast."

The Pegassi said, "there are creatures yet older that roam the earth though most are apathetic or even hostile towards the King. There are perhaps a few who are his servants and knowledgeable in such lore."

The boy asked, "and who might that be?"

The horse said quietly, "perhaps a dragon, elf, or unicorn can provide us with an answer, for some of them are old as time itself."

The boy asked, "I thought all creatures within the Grey Lands were mortal?"

The horse said, "all are mortal in that they can die but that does not necessarily mean that all creatures have a similar lifespan. Certain races do not have a set lifespan and will live until physically slain or until the end of time. Some of the Fairyfolk, as you would call all non-human, half-legendary creatures as I have just named, were those who originally forsook the lands of the King, crossed the River, and made a life for themselves away from their Maker. The original parents of men rebelled against the King and were banished from paradise to these Grey Lands where their offspring multiplied and flourished. Of the other races, save the Pegassi, only a portion of their forebears willingly chose to leave their perfect home and find a life away from their King that they might rule themselves. Thus did the Fairyfolk come into the world and yet do some of their folk dwell across the River within the Realm of the King. The choice is given to all their children, as it is to the children of men, to return to the service of the King or dwell forever in darkness once time or life fails. Some of them choose to serve the King and most of these are shunned by their folk, thus do they cross the River and return to their kin in happier climes. This of course can only be for those races that do not have a set lifespan. Those with a set lifetime must wait for death to take them or the Last Day to come before they are allowed to cross the River."

"What if we come upon a dragon that is unfriendly to the King?" asked the boy.

The horse said, "we will die and no longer need worry about our role in this war, for we shall meet the King face to face. But do not worry, most of the unfriendliest dragons dwell in the Mountains of Night along with all sorts of other nasty things fond of evil and darkness. However, most of the Fairyfolk are not fond of men, no matter their feelings towards the King (save those who serve him). It will be an interesting adventure but the only way I can think of to learn that which you wish to know. We can always try something less dangerous."

The boy smiled, "no my heart is set on this course. Let us accomplish it or die trying." The horse frisked eagerly and increased their pace. "Where exactly are we going to find these Fairyfolk?" asked the boy.

The horse said, "I do not know exactly but they dwell in the unclaimed wildlands in all parts of the world, save the far north and the wastelands of the south. They wish to be nowhere near either the Enemy or the King or even simple men for that matter. They wish simply to be left alone." They traveled for many days, speaking to strangers upon the road and at inns of an evening. Most thought them mad to be seeking such folk but told what tales they knew. They gained little information of use. Finally civilization was left far behind and they found themselves traveling little used cart paths and occasional game trails through the uncharted forests to the northeast of the world. Men were few in this region and most wished to be left to themselves.

The boy asked as they entered this unpeopled land, "are the tales of moving trees and river spirits true?"

The horse laughed, "the trees and water are the same as in other lands. Some of the folk in these wild places have habits, talents, and ways that are strange to mortal man and thus construed as 'magic' but there are dabblers who summon evil powers from the Enemy and we must be wary of such evil mages, sorcerers, and witches, for there are none of that sort that serve the King."

The boy nodded grimly and they continued on their way. In these forgotten lands there were small villages and scattered clusters of farms, but they were few and far between and vulnerable to any renegades who wished to prey upon them. All were distrustful of strangers in such a place. They pressed onward into the heart of nowhere in their search for answers. One night the boy chose a small clearing along a rushing stream as his campsite and the horse said, "tonight I shall wander alone and seek out any of these peculiar folk who might be abroad. I fear your presence frightens them away. Thus far I have not strayed far, for fear some foul thing might fall upon you, but we have yet had no success in our quest. Do you fear to remain alone?"

The boy said, "we might wander forever else. You had best do as you say." The horse nodded, bid his friend ado, and vanished into the forest. The boy made a light supper of the small fish he had caught in the stream and settled down for the night. He awoke to find the clearing alight with the bright glow of the gibbous moon overhead and saw to his awe and terror, a unicorn on the edge of the glade eyeing him balefully. The creature saw the boy awake and knew that he had been seen. The boy dared not reach for the sword that lay close to hand but met the gaze of the magnificent beast before him.

The creature said, "you are far from the lands of men boy and trespass in the rightful domain of the Elven Kings; your life is justly forfeit."

The boy said, "what right have you to take a life simply because we have wandered unknowingly into your realm?"

The unicorn snorted in disgust, "most men rightfully fear to tread this forgotten ground. The ruler of a land has the right to make the laws as he sees fit."

"Perhaps such reasoning works for the Dark Prince and ignorant men, but I did not expect to hear such inanity from a creature of your age and supposed wisdom," said a new voice.

The unicorn glowered at the plainly clad man who had silently entered the clearing during the discussion. The unicorn growled, "stay out of this. You have no part in this. Be gone!"

The man laughed, "my business is anywhere the King's laws are trampled underfoot. Laws cannot be laws unless they are just and protect the innocent. Leave the boy to me and I will see that he leaves your precious forest with all speed, but you and all your folk would be wise to return to your rightful King."

The unicorn snorted derisively, "we have chosen our own Kings and need no more of your Master. Take the boy and go. If either of you ever return I cannot promise you shall live to regret it." The boy was petrified but the man laughed, as if he found the whole concept funny. The unicorn stomped in agitation before vanishing into the night.

The man turned to the boy, who was struggling out of his blankets to his feet, and said, "and what are you doing in this forsaken place? This is no place for mortal men, let alone boys!"

The boy said, "I had hoped to gain some useful information from certain folk in the region, if they were willing to talk to such as I."

The man laughed, "what information can be worth your life? The folk in these parts are much more likely to kill or avoid you rather than speak with you. Men are not held in favor here."

The boy said, "but you seemed to have no fear of them."

The man smiled, "I am not as vulnerable as some, such as yourself. Come, pack your things, we must be going."

The boy said, "I thank you for your assistance but I cannot leave."

The man stared at him, "you nearly lost your life and yet you refuse to leave? Why?"

The boy said, "I cannot leave until my horse returns, and I do not wish to leave until I have found the answers I seek."

The man said, "you are either a fool or have more courage than sense. Leave the animal, he is not worth your life. As for your answers, perhaps I can be of help, but let us be gone"

The boy brightened, "in what matters of lore are you knowledgeable?"

The man laughed, "an eager pupil I see. I know a few things many men do not and if I do not know what you seek, I can find someone who does, and perhaps even a sagacious person who will not kill you for your temerity."

The boy said, "then we shall leave as soon as my friend returns."

The man said, "I thought you awaited your horse? You said nothing of a friend abroad in the night."

The boy said, "he is one and the same."

The man shook his head, "this is not the time nor the place for tricks. No matter how you feel about the beast we cannot linger."

The boy said desperately, "I would not dally for a simple beast, but this is no mere horse but a thinking creature."

The man eyed the boy strangely for a moment, but said, "we cannot abandon a sapient creature in this wretched place therefore we must risk the danger and wait. What strange story is this?"

The boy said, "the tale is his to tell."

The man smiled, "a true friend indeed." They had not long to wait for just then the horse wandered out of the night. He had smelled the stranger in the camp and worse, he had smelled the man's mount; something was not right about the pair of them. He also caught a faint trace of something else he could not put a name to. The man said, "here is your horse lad, we had best be going." The horse eyed the boy skeptically and the boy nodded silently. They packed their things and were soon on their way out of that forsaken glade. They found a wide game trail going in the proper direction as the first glimmers of dawn greyed the eastern horizon. Erian was dying to speak with the boy but there was something he did not trust about the stranger and most especially his horse, thus he dared not betray that he was more than a silly horse.

"How long will you remain silent?" asked the strange mare. The boy nearly fell out of his saddle in alarm and Erian gave her a pleading look.

The man said gently to the mortified Erian, "do not be afraid, we mean you no harm. The boy told us you were no ordinary beast but said the tale was yours to tell."

Erian sighed and said, "I am not afraid."

"What then stills your tongue?" asked the man.

Erian hung his head and said, "shame."

"He is a rebel and traitor," scoffed the mare.

The man raised an eyebrow, "how can this be?"

The mare said, "it does not happen often, but even the Pegassi can stumble for the sake of pride. He was Asked but refused and has become an outcast to his people and is used as an example to teach the little ones the cost of pride." If horses could weep, Erian would have done so.

Bryant broke in on his friend's behalf, "go easy upon him! He has suffered much for his pride and has learned well his lesson. He has returned to the King and serves him as he can in such a state as he finds himself. He has risked much on my behalf though he need not have troubled himself so."

The man said, "peace my friend, for if the Master has forgiven, who are we to judge?"

The mare snorted noncommittally and finally sighed, "forgive my disdain, but it was a shock to us all. It gladdens my heart to know you have forsaken your pride and yearn to return to your people."

Erian looked up hopefully and Bryant patted his neck in reassurance. He glanced back at his friend and said, "now I know a little of what you have endured."

The man looked to the boy curiously and the full tale was told. Afterwards the man whistled and said, "this is the most peculiar pair of wanderers I have ever encountered in many, many miles and years. Now what is this strange quest you have set yourselves?"

The boy said hopefully, knowing now the identity of the strange mare, "we are looking for those called the Messengers and hope to enter their service, if they will have us."

The man nodded as if he expected nothing else and said, "it is a long and dangerous journey but I think together you can make it. Also know it is a dangerous life and you will certainly know fear, pain, sorrow, and shame in the course of your service. It is no easy life but you can render your King and all the world much service thereby. If you are still willing I shall set you on the Road to begin your adventures." The boy exchanged a glance with Erian and they both nodded firmly. The man smiled deeply and said, "then you had best get started. It will be a long and weary road and will try your hearts severely, but stay true and let not your courage flag and you will come to the place you desire. You must not stray from the road for any reason, no matter how noble seeming the purpose, continue on your way regardless of the incentive to tarry or turn from the path. There are many tricksters and much false upon the road you are choosing to tread; if you heed them and give in to their ploys much grief shall result and you may never reach its end."

The boy asked, "if the road is that difficult, will you not come with us and lend us aide at need?"

The man said, "this path you must take alone for only those who reach its end will be taken into the service of the Messengers. It is a long and dangerous path and will weed out or destroy those whose motives are false, shallow, or selfish. Only those with a fervent desire to serve and willing to forsake all else to serve their King can complete the journey, but ware even they might meet dangers upon the road that they cannot overcome. This journey may claim both your lives ere you reach its end."

The boy and the horse exchanged another look and each saw firm resolve and a great eagerness in the eyes of the other. They nodded firmly once more and turned their attention back to the man. He laughed, "if any have the heart to complete this trek it is the pair of you. Mind what I have said, stray not far from the path for in so doing you may never find it again, and seek strength from our Great Father when things grow dark and your hearts are heavy. The road will take you faithfully to its end, do not turn aside upon any crossroads or on any errands. Behold, the road is before you! Farewell my friends."

### Part II:

Suddenly they were gone; the mare had made to turn and had galloped off faster than the eye could follow. Erian watched after the long vanished pair with interest and said, "swift are the feet of the Pegassi in mortal lands! Come, we had best be under way ourselves." Before he had vanished, the man had pointed out a path only broad enough for a single rider. Neither had noticed it before he spoke but neither were they surprised to see it before them as if it had always been there and they had only failed to notice or could not previously see it.

"This is no normal path," said the boy.

Erian snorted, "this is no ordinary adventure. We do not need to commence on this journey but once we do, your life will never again be the same. By setting foot upon that path we are forsaking everything we hold dear in these Grey Lands to serve the King in whatever manner he thinks best. Personally, I have nothing that holds me to this wretched sphere, but you have friends and family that you may never see again."

The boy smiled ruefully, "my friends are nothing more than companions in depravity and my family already thinks me mad, if not dead. I have nothing to lose and certainly everything to gain. I am willing to take this path and meet whatever lies upon it or at its end. I am glad to have such a devoted companion on this dangerous and peculiar way."

Erian said quietly, "fear not that you leave all your friends behind."

They set forth eagerly upon the strange journey that had been set before them. Erian set a quick pace but one that would not overly tire him. He had found nothing of interest in his nocturnal wanderings but listened with interest as Bryant recounted his encounter with the unicorn. "What do you know of the Messengers?" asked the boy as they rode along.

Erian snorted, "I have told you all that I know. I ignored the topic in my former life for it pricked my conscious and troubled my pride-fraught mind. We shall have to discover that when we reach our destination."

Bryant said, "I do not think we ride any longer through the forgotten lands of the Elven Kings! You said this is no ordinary path, what do you know of its route, length, and environs?"

The horse snorted a laugh, "I can sense this is no mortal road, but as to its length and through what lands it wends, I do not know, but I think we will meet things upon it sent to test our will and faith in this matter. We must stay true to the King and our goal no matter how difficult. I think this shall be a long and weary but certainly not a tedious journey ere we reach its end." The boy nodded his agreement.

The lands through which they had been riding had been a tangled wood where paths struggled and often failed but this was a well maintained thoroughfare with a seemingly tame wood on either hand. Bryant felt it was a place anything could happen. In reality the path was no path cut by mortal hand, though it wound its way through any and all the lands of men; its course was never the same and unchartable, for none could find it but those who had business upon it and once their business was done or if they strayed from the course, they could not find it again. Bryant noticed many fruitful trees and bushes, an abundance of rushing streams filled with trout, and a plethora of small game; if things continued like this it would not be a hungry journey. They pressed on until evening began to fall but chose to end their travels early that day for there had been little sleep the previous night. They chose a small clearing along the edge of the road and made themselves at home.

Erian nibbled contentedly at the grass and said between mouthfuls, "sweeter grass I have never tasted in mortal lands. This alone was worth the journey!" Bryant laughed and agreed heartily as he tasted of the delectable fruit that abounded in that spot.

It was a perfect evening and as the stars peeped out the crickets lulled them both to sleep. Morning came damp and early and after an enjoyable breakfast they were upon the road once more. The boy asked, "what does the grass taste like in your homeland?"

Erian said, "much as it did in the clearing but perhaps a bit sweeter and more crisp. We are still in the Grey Lands, though I think somehow this path touches or somehow hints of a place untainted by sorrow and death."

The boy said thoughtfully, "I long to see that land one day, for this is but a shadow and already I think it paradise! I could lay down under a tree and be content never again to stir."

Erian laughed, "perhaps that is one of the traps upon this road; some who would not be daunted by sorrow or danger might fall victim to peace, beauty, and indolence. While we may refresh ourselves upon the way let us not fall into that snare!"

The boy nodded grimly, "I had never thought of things in that way before but I think you are right. Let us be vigilant for other traps that we not fall into them as unwary fools."

They rode on for much of the day and in the afternoon came upon a man sitting by the side of the road. They had seen no other thinking creatures or signs of civilization since they had left their guide; they slowed to speak to the fellow, being both curious of the road and its nature and thankful for a moment not to be the only ones upon it. "Well met," cackled the hunched old man from his seat upon a stone by the roadside, "would you be interested in helping an old man, me lad? I can pay well." With these words he rummaged in his ragged robe and pulled forth a handful of gold nuggets that sparkled and flashed in the sun.

Bryant said politely, "what would you have of me sir?"

The man smiled and said, "I just need a little help with an odd job or two about my house just off the road. Will you come and help an old man? I would even give you food and a bed and the company I am sure you are hungry for, traveling upon this abandoned road as you are."

The boy said, "I am sorry sir but I was bidden not to stray from the road by one I dare not disobey."

"Bah!" scoffed the old man, "ungrateful and lazy, that is what you are! What is this generation coming too? Wretched child!" He shook his stick at the boy and hobbled off along a small trail leading off into the woods.

Erian shook his mane, "I cannot say he was the most polite fellow in the world but you did what you had to."

The boy sighed, "I just hate abandoning such worthy folk who might need our aide."

Erian said, "I wonder how 'worthy' the folk are we shall meet upon the way? I know your heart wants to aide those whom you can, but we were bidden not to stray from the path by one who knows the truth of the matter. I cannot see how we would be given that injunction if there were truly those upon the way that could benefit by our aide. I think all will have some nefarious scheme or plot and are set here to test our resolve. Do not feel guilty for what must be done; fear not, for soon enough you shall be rendering aide to all who cannot help themselves, but only if we succeed and that we will not if we stray from our course." The boy smiled weakly and they returned to their journey.

As night was falling they came upon a man cutting wood in front of his cottage just off the road. He stopped and wiped sweat from his brow and greeted the travelers saying, "and where are you off to lad?"

They stopped and Bryant said, "wherever the road takes us sir."

The man leaned upon his axe and said, "then be wary of the dangers upon the road. I have seen many come this way with eyes full of eagerness for adventure and danger and I hear many tales of the griefs that have befallen those who are not firm in their course. Some do not even make it this far. There is an old man on the road not far from here who seems innocent enough and asks all who pass by to aide him in some small task in return for a hunk of raw gold. What he does not tell them is that if they follow him from the path they are soon set upon by evil men and made to toil away the rest of their lives as slaves in his gold mine."

Bryant exchanged a meaningful look with Erian and now felt no unease at all for refusing to aide the man. As it was evening and nearly time they settled in for the night, Bryant slid from the saddle to speak more easily with the man. "What can you tell me of this road?" asked the boy, "is it the same for all who travel upon it? Does it have a set course or does it change? Are we yet in mortal lands or in some strange middle world between the mortal and the eternal?"

The man laughed, "you are yet in the Grey Lands and the road wends as it will; its course no man can map and none are upon it by accident. Where it ends or begins none know and perhaps it has neither, save for those who reach their destination. There are certain things ever found upon it, such as the old man and myself, but not all travelers encounter the same things. What lies upon your path none but the Master knows. There are forces here for good and evil and some for their own purposes but all have their part in what each traveler must endure. No two journeys are the same. More I cannot tell you."

"What is your part in all of this?" asked the boy.

The man said, "this is where I live and what part I play, even I do not know, for my role is never the same twice. Mostly I just live out my life as any other man serving the weary travelers as I may. I answer their questions and give them encouragement and advice if they would receive it. Is there aught I can do for you?"

The boy said, "at the moment we are well. Is there any advice or warning you might give us for what might lie further upon our road?"

The man shook his head, "save for the old man I can give no warnings save that which you already know: if you wish to reach your journey's end do not stray far from the path."

The man's wife saw they had company and quickly brought out warm water and a towel that the boy might wash the trail dust from his face and hands. Erian revealed himself as something more than a silly horse and the four shared a merry evening before all retired for the night. Bryant slept near the road and was wakened early by their host and his wife who gave him a good breakfast before seeing him on his way. Erian said happily, "it seems that there are more than traps upon this path but we must yet be wary of strangers." The boy agreed and they rode on.

For another day and a night they encountered no one but the following morning they came upon a beautiful but tragic sight. In a clearing with a mirror like pool in its midst stood the most beautiful creature Bryant had ever seen, eclipsing even the unicorn in its glory. A mare white as the snow, but that glittered with golden fire in the new risen sun, stood on the far edge of the pond and it reflected her glory. This was no mortal horse for wisdom was in her eyes and two great wings were folded gracefully upon her back or would have been had not one hung limply, dragging in the muddied edge of the pond. Erian seemed dazzled by the scene. "Please," said a voice, "I am lost and injured and alone with none to help me. I am far from my home. Will you help me?"

"Who is she?" whispered the boy.

Erian seemed to reply from a great distance, "one of my own people; visible in all her glory to mortal eye. We must help her." Bryant sharply jerked the reins as Erian made to move in the direction of the pond; during their travels he rarely touched the reins, usually allowing Erian his head. Erian nearly reared in protest, "what are you doing? She needs our help!"

Bryant said quietly, "patience and wait. If she wishes she may accompany us but we must not leave our path to aide her."

Erian shook himself and started suddenly, as if awakening from some dream. He said to the mare, "fear not my lady, we mean you no harm. What is it you seek?"

The mare said demurely, "I know the path to my homeland but dare not take it alone for it is dark and filled with danger. Will you not accompany me that I might not be afraid?"

Erian said, "follow us upon our path and it will lead you home. We cannot veer from our course."

The innocence and shyness suddenly vanished from her eyes and wrath boiled in their depths as she screamed, "what know you of the path? Come, it is death upon that way! I shall not follow you but you shall certainly abandon me to die." Suddenly the monstrous reptilian head of some aquatic monster rose above the face of the pond and made to snap at the pair upon the road, but Erian saw their danger and was gone with all the speed he possessed.

"A siren!" growled the horse as he ran, "I should have known better. I owe you my life my friend!" They ran on.

Bryant had been long asleep when he felt Erian gently nudging him awake with his nose. He said quietly to the groggy boy, "quickly hide. I hear voices upon the road." The boy scurried out of his blankets and hid his gear and himself as quickly and silently as he could in the vegetation along the road. Erian also vanished into the brush. Three men astride horses rode slowly along the road and chatted quietly amongst themselves; the moon was high and gave enough light to see the road well. They spied the clearing and by common agreement dismounted and began making camp.

Bryant said quietly, "I think we had best see who our visitors are. We cannot remain hidden forever in the woods." Erian nodded reluctantly. Bryant grasped the hilt of his sword and stepped from under cover.

The three strangers saw the movement and went for their weapons. One asked sternly, "who goes?"

Bryant was silent for a moment in shock at recognizing the voice but finally said, "Ephod?"

The other was silent a moment in return and said in a strangled voice, "Bryant?" Bryant stepped out of the shadows into the light of the moon that they might see him. Ephod gasped, "how can this be? We all thought you dead or worse at the hands of that thing!"

Bryant said, "I was miraculously rescued before any harm befell me. What are you doing out here upon this strange path and who are your friends?" Ephod was one of his former companions in carousal.

Ephod said, "after you were taken there was much talk and rumor flying about the city over what had happened to you and what it might mean. Then an old man with ideas as crazy as yours appeared and the people actually began to listen. Against my better judgment I listened too and later talked with the old fool alone and asked about you and the strange creature and asked if there was no way to defend against such a monster. He said there was but one way, but that it must not be attempted by the selfish or faint of heart. We have set out in search of the answer. My companions are the sons of two of the lesser lords of Ithamar."

Bryant was stunned, "you seek to join the Messengers?"

Ephod laughed, "of course! Why else tread this cursed path? I take it that is why you also walk this road?"

Bryant nodded, "but I thought you laughed at all I espoused."

Ephod did laugh and said, "and still do. I do not understand what that nonsense has to do with the Messengers. I will become one of them and return to Ithamar to defend our people from further assaults by such fiends."

Erian said, "you cannot join the Messengers unless you serve the King heart, body, and soul. You must forsake all you hold dear in these Grey Lands and serve the Great King alone. This path may well destroy you if you take it with wrong motive."

Ephod was stunned for a moment by a talking horse but then he had already seen stranger things upon this road and was beginning to believe anything possible. He said, "and what would a horse know in this matter? Be silent beast and let your betters speak."

"He speaks truly," said Bryant.

Ephod laughed, "we shall see who is right at the end of this trek. Until then let us not quarrel about the details."

Bryant asked, "how did you come to find the path?"

Ephod shrugged, "we talked with the Wanderer for a time and learned what we could then set out to find it. We met a plainly clad man not far outside the city and he pointed us to the path and warned us not to stray from the road for any reason. We can speak more in the morning, I am weary, let us sleep for what remains of the night."

All did as suggested and after a breakfast of the ever abundant produce, they mounted and set forth for the day. Ephod asked after Bryant's adventures and briefly recounted their own, which were few as they had been upon the road but a day. Afterwards Ephod said, "this is certainly a strange place. I hope the reward is worth the trouble! If it is half what is rumored in story I shall be the greatest warrior in all of Ithamar and even your father will have to acknowledge my greatness."

Bryant asked, "what tales have you heard of the Messengers? I know very little of what it is I am attempting!"

Ephod laughed, "your father is not fond of myth and legend so I am not surprised he tried to keep such tales from his children. Much is said in the legends of this warriorfolk who oppose the vilest minions of evil. They are said to ride winged horses, to have swords that shine like the sun, and they do not taste of death, no matter how badly wounded. It is said none can stand against them in battle. Can you imagine being such a warrior?" Erian shook his mane in consternation, knowing the boy for a fool but he dared not speak knowing the boy would only chasten him again and his warnings would fall on deaf ears. Bryant patted his neck in reassurance knowing his friend's angst. The other boys in the party were mostly silent and let their esteemed leader do most of the talking. They wanted adventure and wanted to be heroes and all the power, glory, and riches attendant thereunto. They cared as little for the King as their fearless leader.

Ephod said, "this tale of yours as regards the siren and the old man, they disturb me greatly. This shall be a dangerous road if such things are common. Let us take an oath friends to be true to one another and not abandon our cause for lesser things." The other two agreed vigorously but Bryant was silent. Ephod said, "what is the matter? Do you not care for your friends any longer?"

Bryant said, "I will do nothing contrary to the will and laws of the King."

Ephod sighed and said, "suit yourself but let us see what your stubbornness gains you when trouble befalls us and you have no one to aide you."

Bryant said, "I will aide you as I can. I am only saying that if you choose to do something foolish that I do not promise to go down with you into infamy."

Ephod laughed, "we shall see who is the foolish one!"

They kicked their horses to a quicker pace and did not speak again for some hours. They came to a village in the early afternoon and it seemed that some sort of celebration or fair was in progress. Cheerful music filled the air and girls in bright colors flitted about like butterflies in a whirlwind. Everywhere was food and animated chatter and smiling faces. The four boys stopped their horses in the midst of the village through which the road continued on. An important seeming fellow, the Mayor it appeared, approached with a broad grin on his face. He said, "welcome weary travelers. Will you not rest for a time and enjoy the hospitality of our village? We have many delights for weary hearts. Perhaps you will choose to stay permanently as many of your kind have done. You would be the honored guests at our feast this night."

Erian snorted as if he smelled something foul and said, "move on my lords, for there is something not right in this place. They look innocent men but there is something dangerous and vile beneath the surface." Bryant trusted Erian's judgment and did not hinder him as he moved away. The mayor looked offended and tried to plead with the boys but they followed Bryant without a word. Once they were out of the village they heard what sounded a stampede behind them. They looked over their shoulders and to their horror saw the village gone and all its folk terribly changed and rushing after the travelers like a terrible flood. The horses needed no urging to run from the onrushing mass of snarling beasts each bristling with claws, teeth, and horns and no two alike but all covered in a leathery greenish grey hide.

"What were those!" gasped Ephod.

Erian said, "I am not sure exactly but some nasty branch of the pixie family that has certainly come under the sway of the Enemy. Goblins I think they would be called by most men."

Ephod shuddered, "how did you know them my dear beast? I now apologize for what I said last night. You are no dumb brute."

Erian seemed content with the apology and said, "they smelled wrong and my skin crawled, which I can only assume was a byproduct of their foul magics."

Bryant asked, "why were you willing to follow us when you doubt my sanity?"

Ephod laughed, "I do not doubt your sanity, just your tales of this King of yours. You somehow survived your encounter with a Dreadlord and have survived thus far upon this road so I am more apt to trust you than myself in this matter. You are the more experienced captain and may lead until I learn the ways of this trail enough to supplant you." As evening fell they found a place to camp and spent the evening in quiet conversation. Bryant was silent, for the talk of the others held little interest for him now and they found him quite dull from their own perspective. He wondered that he had ever found such vapid and vain talk interesting and the greatest delight of his day. Ephod asked before they retired to their blankets, "have you become such a boor that you can no longer take joy in your old friends?"

Bryant said simply, "I am not the man I once was and no longer find joy in what once I did."

Ephod shook his head and said, "then I pray I never suffer whatever it is that afflicts you."

Erian said quietly in Bryant's ear, "I think that was a compliment." Bryant exchanged a grateful grin with his friend and soon fell asleep.

Morning found a beautiful elf maiden seated on a log at the forest's edge holding a harp and strumming quietly. The music was soothing but spoke of epic adventure and noble purpose just beyond the edge of sight. The boys were all awake and stared in wonder. She blushed shyly but kept up her music. Erian's ears flicked back and forth in consternation. Bryant drew his eyes from the maiden and said quietly, "what is it?"

Erian snorted, "this just minds me of all the other traps we have avoided on this precarious journey. Be careful."

Ephod was on his feet and futilely tried to tame his hair before approaching the lady. He bowed politely as he kissed her proffered hand. She smiled coyly and said, "what brings you to such a place at such a time my lords?"

Ephod smiled broadly, puffed out his chest, and said in a deep voice that sounded fake, "we ride to adventure and fame my lady."

She said, "then if heroes you be I have a quest to set before you. My father is a great lord among my people and is in desperate need of hardy young men such as yourselves. If you prove yourselves valiant and noble in this quest he has promised to give one such youth my hand in marriage and he would be heir to my father's throne." The three boys exchanged an eager look but then began to contemplate that there were three of them and only one elf maiden. Jealous and angry looks began to fester in their eyes and they fingered their swords.

"Enough!" said Bryant, "if you wish to continue upon our road let us be off. She is as false as every other deceiver we have met upon the way. If you have not the heart to continue, by all means fall for her lies but let us be delayed no longer."

A scowl crossed her beautiful face at the intrusion and this unfortunate display of emotion had the effect of breaking her spell upon the others. They drew their hands from their sword hilts and moved away from the woman. No sooner had they turned their backs on her than an evil hag sat in her place. Ephod was nauseous at the thought of kissing that gnarled and warty hand. They were soon in their saddles and riding away with all speed. She cackled and vanished into the woods. Ephod asked of Erian, "what would have happened had we gone with her?"

Erian said, "one cannot be sure but she probably would have cast some terrible spell upon you if you had not killed each other in a jealous rage."

Ephod shook his head, "the renown at the end of this road must certainly be great if so much effort is put forth to hinder our pursuit."

They rode on in silence but had not gone far when they found the road blocked by six armed and unfriendly looking men. The hag stood beside the captain's horse and spoke to him quietly while casting gleeful glances full of malice towards the four boys. The men rode forward with swords bared and the boys reached for their own weapons. The captain said sternly, "put up your weapons and come with us that we might settle this matter. This poor woman claims that one of you young rascals has done her much insult this morning. We are charged with keeping the peace upon this highway and will not have marauders and scoundrels upon it. Drop your weapons or we will use force."

Bryant said grimly, "this witch came upon us sleeping peacefully and through her vile craft would have deceived my friends but I gave warning and they wisely heeded my advice. We did nothing to impugn the lady that she has not truthfully done to herself. We have an important errand to be about and must be upon our way."

The man growled, "you are strangers here and we will not believe your lies over the words of an upstanding citizen such as she."

Bryant said, "what upstanding citizen is in league with the Dark Prince that she might use his power for vile gain at the expense of others?"

The captain did not waste time on words but raised his sword and spurred his horse towards the boys. As they fell upon their outnumbered foes they passed right through the astonished boys and no injury was given or taken by either side. The hag cackled in delight, "what think you of my ghastly army lads? To think you could have joined them had you but listened to me."

"What is she saying?" gasped Bryant to the futile captain who sat his horse beside the boy.

He said quietly, while glancing nervously at the hag who was taunting the rest of the party, "we fell afoul of her spell and are trapped in her power. We are neither dead nor alive. While she lives or time lasts we are trapped in this ghostly twilight. You did well to stand against her a second time. Those who escape the elf maiden often fall to her representation of force though we cannot harm a living being." The hag said something in a foul language and the six men and horses vanished; she laughed the louder and vanished herself. The boys exchanged a horrified look and continued on their way.

They traveled on for several more days but nothing of interest happened and the boys began to grow weary in their vigilance. The way became steeper and narrower; the trees, streams, and abundant food gave way to a land of stunted grass and barren rock. The sun seared overhead by day and the watery moon languished in the freezing night. Their food dwindled and their waterskins ran dry. The horses stumbled in weariness and grew thin on the sparse, coarse grass. Spirits flagged and sank; hope and eagerness waned. "What have you brought us to?" panted one of the lordlings, "I will not remain to die of thirst in this horrible land. I will return to the verdant forests we have just left."

Erian said grimly, "you cannot go back. The path back will vanish and leave you alone in this wilderness to truly die alone and parched. Stay the course and we shall find refreshment ere we die."

"I will not take advice from a horse!" scowled the youth and turning his horse, vanished the way they had come only to discover Erian had been right.

The others exchanged a desperate look but pressed on. As night fell they came upon a small pool in the shadow of a great cliff fed by an underground spring. They quenched their thirst and filled their waterskins. The horses grazed gratefully on the vegetation that flourished upon its banks. With higher spirits they continued on and the waste gradually gave way to a great plain of lush grass and swift rivers. They could once more find small game, fish, and edible vegetation; the horses flourished in such a land. The plain soon gave way to the foothills of a great mountain range and as they passed in the shadow of one of those cliffs a great shrieking rent the sky and threw the horses into fits.

A griffin landed on the path before them and shrieked again. The horses threw their riders and fled. The griffin growled, "you may turn back but you shall not go ahead without paying the toll."

"And what is the price," said Ephod in a quavering voice from the ground.

The creature yawned widely that they might better appreciate his vicious beak; he smiled hungrily and said, "one must remain that I might do with him as I please. The others may go on." The three boys and Erian exchanged a horrified look.

"We cannot go back," said Bryant firmly.

Ephod quavered, "I certainly would rather go back than stay with this fiend."

The third boy said, "I will not face the fiend's wrath neither will I wait to see what becomes of those who remain behind." He leapt to his feet and ran from the path and vanished from sight beyond a far hill.

"Well?" asked the griffin.

Bryant sighed, "I suppose I will be the one to stay. Ephod you had best go on."

The boy stood shakily and said, "no offense or anything but as long as you are determined to pay the price one of us had better make good use of it." Without a backwards glance he ran down the road and out of sight.

The griffin looked to the horse, "and you?"

The horse said, "I will stay with my friend."

The griffin snorted, "at least you have one true friend. I will not part such dear companions."

The boy laughed, "you are not going to do something terrible to us?"

The griffin shrieked a laugh, "if I were going to destroy you I would not have given any of you the chance to flee. An evil griffin is not a reasonable creature."

Erian whinnied a laugh, "I thought as much. What will become of the boy who ran ahead?"

The griffin shook his head, "that I know not. He must face the coming trials alone. They have escaped many traps because of you two but the rest he must face on his own. He can parasitize your sense and courage no longer."

Bryant sighed, "what happens if he successfully reaches the end but his heart is not where it should be."

The griffin said, "I am not sure but I think he will be denied his desire. Completing the journey is not enough; you must also fervently wish to serve the King. You may go on now. Such is the nature of the road that your path will not cross that of your friend until perhaps the very end, if then."

They bid the griffin farewell and continued on their way. In fact they had not much further to go, for two days after their encounter with the griffin they came to the end of the road. The road came to the very edge of a chasm that seemed made of night itself. They could not go on. Erian looked longingly across the Rift at the lands that lay beyond the reach of mortal men and said, "behold the Brightlands."

"What now?" asked the boy as he stared in dread at the seeming end of the road.

Erian said, "I suppose we wait." And wait they did.

Ephod ran on until he collapsed breathlessly, determined to go on no matter the cost. One of them had to reach the end. Bryant was a fool, and he felt a small pang of sadness at the thought but at least his foolishness allowed Ephod to accomplish that which his heart most desired. His nights were filled with sleeplessness as all manner of things moved and croaked and shrieked in the darkness. He had little to eat so was always hungry and though there were streams about, they were far between and it was a long, thirsty walk to the next rivulet. He saw all manner of folk who beckoned him off the path with all sorts of noble and infamous quests, promises of fame, wealth, or power but he pressed on doggedly. Finally he came to the end of the road. Exhausted and half starved he collapsed in shock to see Bryant already there. Bryant hastened to the stricken boy and refreshed him with water and what little food he yet had in his saddlebags. "What became of the griffin?" gasped Ephod upon regaining the use of his tongue.

Bryant smiled, "he meant no harm and after a brief chat allowed us to go on our way."

Ephod said, "but you never passed me upon the road."

Bryant shrugged, "such is the nature of the path."

"Now what?" asked Ephod, "where does the road go?"

Bryant shrugged unconcernedly, "the path leads into the Rift thus we are forced to wait."

"Wait for what?" asked Ephod regaining his feet.

"For me," said a menacing voice. Both boys and Erian looked in horror upon a Dreadlord.

"This is not what I had expected to find at journey's end," said Bryant standing and drawing his sword.

The fell thing laughed like creaking bones, "what can anyone hope to expect who makes such a wretched journey? Now you will not even have the luxury of hope. This time you will die wretch; I had thought the griffin had had his way with you. But it matters not." He raised his vile sword and Bryant prepared to defend himself; Ephod scurried away to a safe distance and Erian paced in agitation, knowing he could do nothing to oppose the fiend and help his friend. The Dreadlord laughed, "fool! Do you think mortal blade can do anything to harm me?"

Bryant stood his ground though the fear emanating from his foe should have driven him to his knees in terror. He said, "it is the only defense I have."

The thing laughed scornfully but his mirth was cut short, as was the stroke of his sword, as it was blocked by an unexpected blade. Bryant's face blossomed in a grin of joy and relief to see the man who had come to his rescue back in the wildlands and set them upon this journey. "The boy is mine by right!" snarled the Dreadlord.

The plainly clad man said grimly, "he belongs to none but the King and that by his own choosing. You have no claim upon him."

The Dreadlord retreated from his foe, not yet admitting defeat but unwilling to face the consequences should the man's blade find its mark. Content that the fell creature was cowed for the moment, the man approached the three travelers. The Dreadlord watched keenly with his burning eyes.

"Thank you," said Bryant quietly; the man smiled deeply and only nodded in answer.

"I have made it," said Ephod proudly, "I have suffered much and survived countless traps and trials to be found worthy of that which I seek. Why do we wait here pointlessly on the edge of this abyss?"

The man said nothing to Ephod's exclamation, turning to Bryant and Erian he asked, "and what have you two to say of all this?"

Bryant looked at his feet and said, "I claim to know nothing sir. I set out upon a journey in hopes of reaching its end. Now that it seems to be ended in that I can go no further, I can only hope there is one to show me the way."

Erian said, "I concur with my friend. I am as ignorant as he."

The man turned to Ephod and said, "what say you of the answers of your friends?"

The boy shrugged and said, "they are fools and have ever been so. They are certainly not worthy of such an honor."

"None are worthy in their own right," said the man quietly, "only the King's grace and the Son's blood make us so."

"Fairytales!" laughed Ephod, "fit only for children and imbeciles."

The man smiled grimly, "that is why it is said one can only enter the Kingdom with faith as a little child. Your pride makes you an old man; this is not the place for you yet. Go and seek wisdom and humility and then return and we shall see what we can make of you."

Ephod's mouth dropped and the Dreadlord sneered under his helm. Ephod said, "you dare deny me that for which I have suffered so much?"

The man said sadly, "your friends did try to tell you but you would not listen. I deny you nothing, you deny the King and therefore you deny yourself serving in his name."

"What of him?" scowled Ephod, "certainly he is less worthy even than I."

The man said, "he has come faithfully and humbly though he knew not what to expect. He will not be denied. Nor will his dear friend." Bryant and Erian looked quite stunned though it was for this that they had ever been hoping.

Ephod sneered, "you would allow a horse such an honor but deny me the same? If that be so then I want none of your so-called honor and glory."

The man said, "we have no glory of our own, only the merest reflection of that granted our Master. Will you not soften your heart and listen?"

Ephod drew away from the man and said, "I will never be such a fool!"

The Dreadlord interjected, "if it is glory and power you seek boy, my master has enough for all. Come away with me and realize all your dreams and more. Do not settle for what these pitiful fools pretend to deny you, for they have nothing to give."

Bryant said desperately, "do not be a fool Ephod! He is a liar and a true servant of the Master of Lies. Do not doom your soul and shackle yourself to a living death."

"Bah," scoffed the Dreadlord, "he knows nothing of it. Come with me or rue it forever."

"Can you do nothing?" asked the desperate Bryant of the man.

He shook his head sadly and said, "if he chooses freely to go with the Dreadlord I cannot interfere. Your friend speaks truly lad, do not do such a terrible thing."

Ephod smiled maliciously, "if I refuse to go with him will you offer me a place amongst you?"

The man shook his head sadly, "such is not mine to offer nor can such a heart accept it were it possible."

Ephod smiled at the miserable trio disdainfully and walked towards the waiting Dreadlord who had mounted his abominable beast. "You have chosen wisely," said the Dreadlord as he reached down and drew the boy into the saddle before him. Without another word they set off and vanished swiftly from sight.

"What will become of him?" asked Bryant of the grieved man.

The man sighed and said, "if he does not change his mind by the time they pass the gates of the Infernal Realms he may end a Soldier or even a Dreadlord if it pleases his fell master. If he does recant he will probably die slowly by the hand of his new hero. I cannot see it ending well." He smiled slightly then and said, "your friend has chosen his fate and we shall dwell no more upon it unless we encounter him again. Now what of you? Are you still willing to finish that which you have begun? The warning I gave at our parting still holds. This will not be the last sorrow and grief you must bear in such service; nor are physical pain and other remnants of mortal life spared us. Until we cross the River and enter the Brightlands we shall never be free of such suffering but there are those who desperately need our aide and no one else can render it. Of course it is not all misery, for we have the boundless hope of the King and his Spirit abides within us to strengthen, guide, and comfort always. There is also much joy in our service. The choice is before you." The boy went to one knee before the man who hastily bid him rise, saying, "kneel not before me lad, for I am but a servant of the King just as you. You owe such homage to the King alone."

The boy smiled ruefully and said, "my heart desires nothing else." Erian whinnied his agreement.

The man smiled deeply once more and said, "then you must drink of the River and immerse yourselves in the shallows. Do not cross it, else you shall not be able to come back and return to mortal lands."

They both looked upon what once to their eyes had been the Rift but was now a great river flowing swift and deep. Erian said with joy tingeing his voice, "this is again as I once knew it."

The man smiled, "your eyes have been opened once more to things long hidden to mortal sight."

They approached the River with joy but also trepidation as two toddlers the sea. They exchanged a smile and then drank of its water; their minds and souls were opened to things hidden from mortal ken. They exchanged a look of awe and then plunged beneath the crystal waters. When they emerged they did not recognize one another immediately. Erian reared for joy, spreading his great wings and flinging diamond droplets of water everywhere that glittered in the sun as they fell; again in his proper form he looked much like the beautiful mare they had encountered upon their odyssey, save taller and more heavily muscled. The travel stained youth stood a man in his prime with joy writ deep in his eyes clothed all in white, clad in silver armor with a great sword at his side. They then turned to the man who was now garbed as the boy. His mare had been standing placidly by, observing the whole progression and whickered a greeting to her kinsman, "welcome home my brother."

Erian snorted, "this would have been far easier had I simply said yes the first time!"

They all shared a laugh and the man clapped the boy on the back and said, "welcome to the Messengers."

The boy smiled and said, "now will you explain to me what it is we do, for no one seems to know?"

The man laughed and drew him aside to a quiet place that they might speak. The Pegassi followed companionably and relaxed in their own equine fashion. The man smiled as he began, "you have traveled far and endured much for the sake of something you do not understand; that is the determination and faith it takes to serve among us. It is not an easy life but certainly interesting and of much benefit to our Lord and his thinking creatures. Long ago, before time and everything we call 'reality,' the Enemy rebelled and was cast from the presence of the King. Thus has war raged between them until the Last Day, when the villain will be defeated once and for all. Whatever the King does the Enemy opposes; he subverts or destroys it as he can. Thus when the King chose to make the worlds the Enemy was there to turn it to his advantage. Now he could not touch anything the Master had made and destroy it himself but he could tempt, lie, nudge, and hint, hoping the thing might destroy itself. And that is what happened. Believing the Enemy over their own Lord, the progenitors of men rebelled and were cast out of paradise, as did others of various race after them. Such rebels and their tainted descendants now dwell in the Grey Lands: the fallen sphere of creation where death and sorrow attend all the aspirations of men. There the Dark Lord can roam among them and have what influence he may, but neither has the King abandoned his rebellious children. The servants of the Dark Prince are abroad upon the earth but so are the servants of the King.

Many hundreds of years ago the King's own Son was sent to pay the price to redeem fallen creation though it was a debt he did not owe. The price paid, all thinking creatures have only to turn to him to save themselves from the dark and dangerous world in which they dwell. The Enemy had thought he had had quite the victory when the ignorant and rebellious folk of the Grey Lands killed the very son of the King, but death could not hold him and he lives once more and has broken the iron grip of the Villain upon creation, if only we would seek the remedy instead of lingering in our disease. While each soul must choose for itself whether to accept or deny their True King, the servants of the Enemy go abroad wreaking havoc and death wherever it pleases their master. We are those who choose to oppose them that their destruction might be minimized, leaving mortal souls in peace to decide as they will. Wherever the forces of darkness and evil are gathered, there are we sent to give what aide we may. They cannot be killed, for such things are beyond death, but we can banish them back beyond the Dark Mountains and there their master does with them as he pleases whether to renew them to wreak havoc once more or to banish them to the Abyss and start anew with another vile servant. Seven of the Dreadlords are ever abroad and causing trouble and under each an unknown number of nearly mindless Soldiers serve. The Soldiers can hardly think for themselves but their numbers give them strength and the Dreadlords give them direction."

He continued, "they can fight without need of guidance and if they are told to guard a road they will, but they are not wise enough to think someone might sneak around and take such needful precautions. The riding beasts of the Dreadlords are even worse, being not living (or once living creatures) but simply a collection of bones, sinew, and hide animated by the will of its rider. The horses of the Soldiers are as mindless as their master; once mortal beasts, they have been corrupted just as their riders. The Dreadlords can control them as well. If you find yourself facing such a force, if you can vanquish the Dreadlord, his Soldiers will fall into disarray and then can be easily dispatched, but they know this and send the Soldiers ahead and only after they have been dealt with do they themselves confront us. Your sword is highly effective against such fiends but will not deal mortals an injurious blow; the stroke may perhaps sting but it renders them no permanent harm. Mortal weapons cannot touch us; the weapons of the Soldiers burn us as if fresh from the forge but render no harm. The weapons of the Dreadlords also burn only worse, and if they strike a mortal blow send us back to the River from whence we must set out again."

The boy asked, "can they kill us?"

The man said, "they can cause us much pain or banish us back to the River but none can die who have drunk of the River of Life. If ever you grow weary of battle and sorrow seek once more the River, cross over it into the Brightlands, and find rest but know that in so doing you cannot return to continue the fight until the Last Day."

The boy asked, "so we are something immortal dwelling yet in mortal lands?"

The man smiled, "I think you begin to understand. All souls are immortal, most just do not yet realize it. Once made, a soul is never destroyed and where eternity is lived depends upon what the creature chooses to do with the King. Rebels are cast forever across the Mountains of Night never to return."

The boy nodded grimly and then asked, "what is the sorrow you have spoken of? The physical pain I understand but what is this great grief?"

The man said, "we roam yet in lands where death and sorrow linger and thus drink of that cup ourselves. There will be times of great trial and at other times you will not triumph and things will go badly for those you were sent to defend, or you will witness things to grieve the heart, most of all souls that refuse to accept the King. It is of this I speak. If things go ill do not despair for it is the way of the world; one day all will be made right. But do what you can and remain faithful to Him who sent you. The greatest danger we face is that of falling away. In a mortal such a shortcoming can yet be remedied but you have tasted of the Water and therefore if you turn aside there is no returning. No matter what you endure or witness you must not lose hope and deny your Master else all is lost."

The boy's eyes were wide at this revelation but he asked, "what then is our relation to living men and other thinking creatures?"

The man said, "you will appear to them as I appeared to you when first we met; they cannot see you as you truly are as you could not once see the River." He continued, "you may walk among them and interact with them and often must in the course of your service to the King, but we are no longer mortal ourselves thus we need neither food, water, nor rest but it also means that such things as marriage and other serious human commitments, such as ruling a country, are forbidden to us. You are ever a servant of the King and always a nomad and wanderer, thus you cannot build lasting relationships or settle down among them. Their weapons cannot harm us and neither can their prisons and ropes bind us. If so troubled, all you need do is will yourself free of your bonds and you can pass through walls or ropes like sunshine through a window. The elves and other naturally undying races are slightly different. Their weapons can render pain, a slight irritation as compared to that inflicted by the weapons of the Enemy but still noticeable. Such folk see us for what we are and wish no trouble with us or with the Enemy's servants, wishing only to be left to themselves. They for the most part ignore us but occasionally we have business among them, much to their irritation. Those who are willingly in service to evil, such as the goblins and the various hags and sorcerers, can fall to our blades but all others are affected as other mortals by our weapons."

This reminded the boy of something he had seen upon the Road and he asked, "upon my journey hither we encountered a hag who had entrapped several young men in her witchery. Is there no way to rescue them?"

The man said quietly, "they were warned before starting the journey and failed to heed that warning, earning for themselves the affliction which you witnessed. One day they shall be freed as shall all others in bondage, but it is not for us to know the time or the means. Your duty is to focus on that which is set before you. You cannot go venturing forth alone on various crusades else you will be seen as a rebel and cast aside." The boy shuddered and nodded grimly.

The man smiled slightly and said, "I am not trying to terrify you, simply to acquaint you with what it is to be in service to the Messengers. You must not turn aside from the quest set before you, such was the true test of the Road. Having passed through that ordeal all else should be relatively simple."

The boy smiled and asked, "how many of us are there? Do we ride together or alone?"

The man laughed warmly, "the first I cannot answer but there are enough of us. We usually ride alone, but occasionally there are times we ride together on certain missions, but you are never truly alone, for we are seldom parted from the Pegassi with which we are paired and even then the King is ever with us."

The boy laughed for joy and asked, "tell me more of the Pegassi."

The man said, "they are a free and noble folk who dwell in the Blessed Mountains upon the very rim of the Brightlands and are the one folk that have not rebelled against the King, save for an individual or two in all their history. They only cross the River if cast out in rebellion or called to serve with the Messengers. They serve as our wings but more importantly as our companions and guides. Trust well to their advice for they can sense things to which we ourselves might well be blind. Trust also their guidance for they are wise in all the ways of the King and know much of the fallen world and the Enemy. If you doubt your path trust in their sure feet and you will not be led astray. They give company in loneliness and encouragement in despair. But for them we could not be half so effective in what we are sent to do. They are swift of foot and can cross an entire nation in one great leap. Unlike us, they cannot be touched by any weapon of the Enemy or mankind."

Erian asked, "why is it that all other folk who chose to rebel and cross the River did not suffer a loss of skills and physical form as severely as I when I was exiled? I was little more than a common horse able to think for itself."

The man said, "all who cross the River in rebellion suffer greatly for their sins. All lose the close communion once held with the King, for sin sunders us thus, but the effects upon physical form, native talent, and individual souls and minds varies with race and form of rebellion. The Fairyfolk chose to leave, whereas you and mankind willingly rebelled and were cast out of paradise. The former suffered little loss in physical form or native talents but lost much in the areas of heart, soul, and mind. The latter showed much more effect in all areas. While a unicorn on this side of the River may look much the same as a unicorn on the blessed side of the River, they are far from similar. The former is a rebellious, stubborn, selfish, and small minded creature while the latter is everything wise, noble, selfless, and of great heart. A mortal unicorn is something altogether tragic if you have seen what they were truly meant to be. So are we all fallen." The mare made an indignant noise. The man smiled and laughed, "forgive me Sebiki, you have never suffered such a thing." She seemed placated and returned to her former state of patient bliss.

The boy asked, "what is it we do exactly?"

The man smiled, "that is an excellent question and I can give but poor answer. We do many things but nothing I can sum up in few words. Our main duty is to oppose the Dreadlords but we are often set various other strange and diverse tasks be it giving warning to an obstinate people, opposing other evil in the world, rescuing someone from the powers of darkness, aiding those who seek to join us, advising those who might otherwise go astray, and many other things."

The boy smiled, "at least I will not get bored."

The man laughed, "no lad that you never will." He continued, "the one other thing I should tell you is that time passes strangely for us. A year may last a year, a day, or you may skip it altogether, depending on where and when you are needed."

The boy asked, "how do I know what my next mission will be? Is there someone we report to?"

The man shook his head, "sometimes we are sent to advise or speak with one another but usually you know already that which you must and if you do not your Pegassi will." The boy looked confused and the man smiled saying, "it sounds strange but soon it will be the most natural thing in the world. For your first assignment we shall ride together that you may experience firsthand that of which I have been speaking. I am called Jonin. Have you any further questions?"

The boy thought for a moment and seemed troubled as he said, "is there no hope for Ephod and all those like him?"

Jonin said sadly, "once a man has perished without the King or chooses to follow the Evil One willingly and thus passes the gates of the Infernal Realms there is no more chance that he may repent of that which he has chosen willingly. So too if one has rebelled against the King or was born into such rebellion and finds Him thus turning from darkness and one day tastes of the River but then turns aside he cannot go back. A mortal man may flirt with the idea of serving the King, toss it aside, and take it up again but once he is firmly in the King's keeping and then throws all away for evil purpose he is lost. You shall certainly be grieved by and mourn for those who choose such folly and destruction, but you must not lose hope because of it. It was of their own choosing and the King will not trespass upon that choice for it was His gift to them that they had such choice, else we would be naught but mindless slaves rather than children and heirs of our Great Lord."

He rose then and the boy followed suit. Bryant noticed Erian now wore neither bridle nor saddle but to mortal eyes it would appear that he did. He would know Bryant's mind in where they must go and also know himself that which was most needful to be done. Jonin mounted and Erian eyed the boy in amusement, as he seemed nervous to dare such a thing. Erian shook his head in amusement and consternation, "you have done this a thousand times before, why now are you so shy? Forget how I look and remember that I am yet he that has borne you times beyond count. And now you will not be any burden at all for your weight is but that of a feather or a breathe of air."

Bryant could not help but smile and an eager joy flamed in his eyes as he leapt easily onto the great back. The stallion was much taller than he remembered and he felt helpless without rein or stirrup though he had rarely had to use the former. He soon adjusted and forgot his former need for such things, for now he had no fear of falling. The Pegassi reared their joy to again be abroad, for they were born to run and run they did: swifter than lightning. The boy had never felt such joy or exhilaration. He seemed to be sitting still while the world blurred past him. Forests, mountains, swamps, plains, and whole countries passed like leaves in the wind. And when the great creatures stopped they were neither sweaty, blowing hard, nor even weary. Erian laughed, "it is good to be free once more. I felt a snail, trapped as I was in mortal form."

They stopped in a place far less pleasant than their former habitations. The wind blew hot and though the sun was a pallid and watery disc in the sky it still scorched like an oven. It seemed that water had never existed in this place; there was no vegetation, only jagged rocks and dust as far as the eye could see. To the south towered peaks of immense height that seemed to take in all light but never gave off heat.

"The Mountains of Night or the Cursed Peaks or a thousand other names they bear but beyond them lies the Infernal Realm. Upon their stark face dwell all manner of loathsome and vile things that delight in evil and cruelty. Some claim the Dark Prince as lord, others care little for such things but are no less deplorable. The sun's light never reaches the far side nor do they themselves cast a shadow, but all that lies within sight of those terrible mountains is waste and sere. It burns by day and freezes by night. No stars shine here, only a wan moon. But compared to conditions on the other side of the peaks this is a veritable paradise."

Bryant shuddered to think what might lurk on the other side of the mountains. He felt the heat but it was not a bother to him, though to mortals caught in those environs it would have been oppressive. "Why are we here?" asked the boy.

Jonin said, "the minions of the Enemy often patrol along this road and we are here that you might learn their ways."

The boy paled, "is it not a bit presumptuous to engage them in battle when there is not a need?"

Jonin said seriously, "perhaps we are not making a difference to innocents in this affair but you have a need to learn how to engage such creatures and doing it here will keep others from being injured by your naiveté."

The boy smiled, "I can learn here without risking others. It is probably a good thing to know what I am doing before I attempt anything actually important."

Jonin smiled, "I am glad you take my point. Prepare yourself, for our enemies are at hand."

Six Soldiers came along the road out of the west, man and horse alike resembled their mortal form but were withered and wasted to nothing but skin drawn taught over bone; here and there a gash in the skin reveal naked bone beneath. Their armor was of chainmail and leather whereas the Dreadlords wore platemail from head to toe. Soldiers were not all that smart but they knew enough to attack two strangers upon the road. They drew their swords and their fell mounts increased their pace for the charge. Such wailing and moaning Bryant had never heard and he thought these must be their attempt at yells of rage and war. The Pegassi reared and screamed their own challenge and ran to meet their foe. Bryant had been trained in the arts of war along with all his royal siblings but he had never faced a man in battle. He felt that had he known nothing of the sword he would still have had the necessary skill. He fought as one long used to such effort and Erian moved with such skill that they might have been a centaur: a creature of one mind rather than mount and rider of two separate minds. Where the Soldiers' blades pierced him they burned as Jonin had warned. At first he flinched back in pain but soon overcame the irritation and waded full into the fray. Their blades could do little but pain him; Bryant's blade reduced them to a pile of ash and charred bone if it dealt a mortal blow. The horrid horses stood and stared vacantly when their riders fell, suddenly becoming gruesome statues.

The Soldiers vanquished, Bryant turned to Jonin seeking further direction. "You did well lad," said Jonin, "now we will seek out a Dreadlord for you to try your hand at. Remember, they do not fall so easily and their blades are as deadly to us as ours are to them."

"What of these wretched beasts?" asked the boy.

Jonin looked upon the frozen horses and said, "come night they will fall to pieces; once their masters are gone they have no more life within them."

Erian snorted, "I think I am beginning to enjoy this."

Jonin laughed, "it was for this that you were made my friend. Come we have more to teach your friend."

They galloped off into the blistering day and upon halting they found themselves behind a cluster of great boulders looking upon a grim sight. "Behold the gates of the Infernal Realms," said Jonin quietly, "they are never guarded, for the Enemy fears no attack and knows all who enter willingly come under his dominion. We and all those who serve the King cannot pass those gates unless they willingly choose such a fate. Living mortals also cannot pass them unwillingly. Once death comes upon them, those who have refused the King have no choice but to pass them."

Bryant asked, "what of those taken captive by the Dreadlords and other minions of evil? What would have come of me had the Dreadlord brought me to this place?"

Jonin turned his gaze off to one side of the hulking gate and Bryant's eyes followed. Built into the cold flesh of the mountainside was a sort of fortress or prison. Soldiers could be seen upon the walls and at the gates. Jonin said quietly, "that is where all such captives go; it is in that cruel place that they endure much torment in hopes that they might refuse the King and turn to the Enemy. Else they meet a slow and terrible death."

Bryant said quietly, "I think I would prefer a slow death to what the Enemy has to offer."

Jonin said grimly, "a truer word was never spoken."

The boy shuddered to think what might have come of him in such a place. He turned to Jonin and asked, "are the prisoners completely forsaken and alone?"

Jonin said, "do you ask why we do not break down the door and set them free?" The boy nodded. Jonin said, "we are sent to aide many but terrible things still happen in the world: the result of rebellion against the King. We are not sent to make the world a place where all men are free and safe but to do that which we must to check the Enemy in his plots and see that men have the chance to seek the King. All such suffering and death is needless and would have been avoided had some not chosen to rebel and thus are they sundered from the good with which the King had planned to bless them. It is a difficult concept for many that a just and loving King could allow such suffering in the world, but it is in such sorrow that men often return to their Maker. He did not intend it to be this way, but so have we chosen and thus must we endure, but that is not to say He cannot use it for the benefit of His people. One day all such pain, grief, and death will forever be overthrown and cast aside and things will be as they were meant to be. But for now and as long as time lasts things are as they are. There are many things you will yearn to do to end suffering or make things right, but there are some things that must be as they must be and it is not for us to interfere. Attend to that which you are assigned, grieve as you must, but do not step outside the bounds set upon us."

"How will I know what is overreaching?" asked the boy.

Jonin said, "you will know." The boy nodded, not understanding but trusting fully in his Lord and his friends. As they watched, the gates opened and a Dreadlord leading a dozen Soldiers rode out into the growing shadows of evening, intent on some mischief. Jonin said quietly, "we will follow them at a distance and once out of sight of the gates we will set upon them. We dare not take them in view of the gates lest reinforcements should be sent forth."

The boy nodded and set himself for battle though they might not engage their foes for some time yet. The fell company rode north at a dizzying speed to all but the Pegassi. Soon they were well beyond sight of the gates and the Messengers fell upon their foes from behind. The Dreadlord turned his mount sharply when he heard the sounds of battle amongst his minions. He drew back from the melee and watched with irritation; this was not something he enjoyed but such bothers were part of the job. The Messengers were forever meddling in the affairs of the Dark Prince and there was little that could be done to end their bother. Only three Soldiers remained and Jonin had their attention. He urged the boy to take on the Dreadlord. The boy was terrified after his previous encounter with such a foe but was determined not to disappoint Jonin or their Master.

Erian was not cowed in the least though mortal horses would have been long fled if they did not simply die outright from fear. The Dreadlord was the same the boy had met before and he laughed scornfully when he recognized his foe, "will you never quit boy? Just lie down and die and do us all a favor. You were not made for such folly!" He was rather miffed to realize that this was simply a training exercise for the neophyte Messenger; he was certainly a more worthy foe than a mere practice enemy for this pathetic wretch! They met and exchanged furious blows. Bryant felt the cruel sting of the Dreadlord's blade, far fiercer than the pain inflicted by a Soldier's lesser blade. For a few minutes their mounts circled, pushed, and reared, while their riders fought desperately. Finally the Dreadlord's blade pierced Bryant's chest. The pain was excruciating and then the light consumed him and he knew nothing more.

He came to himself slowly and it took him a moment to realize where he was and why. He lay on the bank of the River and the water lapped at his feet as he shakily stood. Erian was there as if patiently waiting and gave him an amused smile though he was greatly relieved to see his friend once more. It had not been a pleasant feeling to suddenly lose the boy whose safety was his responsibility. Jonin was not long in coming, after finishing with their remaining enemies. The boy looked up sheepishly. Jonin smiled warmly and said, "this will be the first of many times that you will find yourself thus lad. Do not be discouraged or disheartened for it is part of the endless battle we fight against the Evil One. Pick yourself up and return to the fight. You will defeat him next time or perhaps the time after that."

Bryant smiled his thanks and mounted Erian once more. Jonin said, "now with that messy business behind us, I think we should probably send you off to do something useful. You do not yet know everything but you know much and the rest will come with experience. The Road lies before you." Bryant was eager to be off on his own adventures but not yet ready to part from his new friends. Jonin smiled, "we shall meet again lad. Do not worry, we have all eternity to spend together should we wish it, but for now we each have our duties to be about. Farewell!" Sebiki made as if to take a step and in the blink of an eye they had vanished beyond the distant horizon.

Bryant asked of Erian, "the Road?"

Erian said patiently, "yes, it is the same path that led us here. Mortals can take it only as far as it will lead them but we may travel hither and thither upon it, for it will take us where we will and sometimes we have business upon it."

"What have we to do?" asked Bryant though he thought he knew the answer.

Erian whickered a laugh and said, "do you not know? It is a quest that perhaps you set yourself. You asked Jonin about it not long ago."

Bryant smiled, "it is as I thought but I just wanted to be sure. I have much yet to learn."

Erian laughed, "it will not be long before all comes easily my friend."

They rode along for a day or a year or a moment but however long it was they soon arrived in the place desired. There in the place they themselves had slept that fateful night another weary traveler had taken shelter. The sun was rising and a pleasant music filled the air but to the ears of Bryant it had a strident tone as the gnashing of teeth. The elf maiden sat in her accustomed place but Bryant could see full well the vile hag beneath the fair façade. Only then did she look up and notice Bryant and Erian on the far side of the glade. She shrieked like a fiend afire and woke the yet slumbering traveler. He scurried out of his blankets, saw the elf maiden certainly distressed and then turned to see an armed man at his back that must be threatening the beauty before him. He reached for his sword but the stranger paid him no heed. Bryant focused all his attention on the hag saying in a stern voice, "release those you hold captive and your life will be spared witch."

She scoffed in a cracking voice, quite unbecoming to such a fair face, "they are mine by right. I caught them, I shall keep them."

Bryant said firmly, "the appointed time of their captivity is ended. Release them freely or you shall die upon my blade and then they shall be loosed nonetheless. What is your decision?"

She cackled cruelly and said, "why not ask them yourself." Suddenly the clearing was filled with over a dozen armed men and horses all jostling for position. The traveler had had enough of the insanity and had scurried off down the road. The men had previously been unable to touch mortal flesh; Bryant wondered what effect they could have upon him now. "Kill him fools!" shouted the witch. They looked in terror at the witch but trembled when they looked upon Bryant and Erian. Those closest to him drew back as if he carried plague. "Kill him or I will destroy you all!" shrieked the witch. They held their place, more terrified of Bryant than of the hag. They moved quickly aside as Erian made to move through them.

Bryant held his sword to the hag's throat and said one last time, "loose them or my blade will."

The hag sighed heavily, said something in a vile language, and suddenly vanished. The men and horses in the clearing were utterly silent in shock and then there was much hugging and rejoicing among them as they realized they were finally free. Some had been so trapped for years. They then turned to their rescuer with one accord. Their former captain rode forth and said to Bryant, "we wish to thank you for our lives. What shall become of us now?"

Bryant smiled and said, "continue upon the Road and follow it to its end if that is yet your wish but this time be more wary of the traps that might yet await you." The captain smiled, turned to his men, they all nodded their agreement, and they set off with hearts light and joyful for the first time in long remembrance.

Alone once more in the clearing Erian said, "that went quite well though I doubt all our adventures shall turn out to be that easy. You seem to be getting the hang of things. It is a pity you did not kill the hag though."

Bryant said, "I had to give her the choice and she chose wisely, at least in this matter. I am sure she will continue to haunt the road but at least those poor souls are free. She will face justice one day but for now she remains loose upon the world. Actually, I had no idea what I was doing until I did it but it felt natural enough. What now?"

Erian lazily flicked his tail and said, "we must be off to our next adventure of course."

They rode swiftly down the path, so quickly in fact that no one they passed saw them or knew they had been save for perhaps a sudden breath of wind upon their face. The road brought them quickly to the lands Bryant knew well; they had returned to Ithamar. Once upon a mortal thoroughfare they assumed a more natural speed and rode along simply as a plainly clad man on a common sort of horse; no one would have noticed them in passing and have been able to remark them to anyone if asked. "I think it a bit odd," said Bryant as they approached the capital city, "that I should be sent home."

Erian snorted in amusement, "there is much odd, at least by your former standard of thinking, in your current occupation. I would get used to it, for I doubt things will ever quite be as you expect them to be. I suppose you could always cross the River and then you need not worry about this sort of thing." Bryant gave him a scandalized look for such a suggestion; Erian frisked a bit in amusement. They continued silently on their way.

They passed unremarked through the gates of the city for the guards cared little for yet another plainly dressed commoner riding into the city. They stopped at an unremarkable inn, neither seemed surprised though it had not been Bryant's first idea upon entering the city. He had thought briefly about riding to the palace to speak with his parents but this seemed the wiser course of action for the moment. Bryant was loath to leave his friend standing about outside doing nothing but Erian gave him such an incredulous look (quite a startling thing from an equine visage) that he quickly made his way into the inn and found a place in the common room. He glanced around at the gathered citizenry but there were few within yet, for it was early in the day. Evening would see every chair filled however. He wondered quietly how long it had been since he left home, what they thought had become of him, how the Wanderer had faired in his quest, whether either of the young lordlings that had accompanied Ephod had ever returned, and what they thought of Ephod's disappearance. He wondered what he was here for but also knew all he had to do was wait.

He did not wait long before an old man with a significant limp wandered into the inn, glanced around at the sparse patrons, and traipsed over to plop himself down at Bryant's small table. Bryant did not know the man but felt towards him as he might towards a favorite brother. The old man eyed the youth curiously and after a thorough inspection said, "you are a bit younger than I had expected but then who should expect anything in this line of work? I am Hayden."

"Who are you?" asked the boy.

"I already told you," said the man. He paused and waited for some reply but the boy was no more forthcoming so the man continued, "you are a stranger here, I suppose?"

The boy said, "it has been some time since I was last in Ithamar. What has passed here since the King's exiled son returned and than vanished once more?"

The stranger cocked an eyebrow and said, "you have been gone five years then? Why did you not simply say so?"

The boy laughed, "I have lost track of time of late."

The man shook his head, not understanding how five years could simply pass someone by but he said, "as you are probably aware, the lad returned from his exile with some rather funny ideas, at least as the locals see things. His father forgave him and then the lad went about town causing quite a scandal with these ideas of his. No one seemed to listen and he was thought an embarrassment and a laughingstock by most. Of course no one takes a local kid seriously when he starts saying something important. His speaking career was cut short when a Dreadlord came in and carried the boy away. Most thought it was all he deserved but the presence of such a thing started them thinking that perhaps there was more to life than what they had previously thought."

He continued, "then along comes an old man with a limp with a head full of similar ideas and finally the people start listening and thinking and considering things they had laughed at only a week ago. The man did ease the hearts of the bereaved parents in that he could honestly say the kid had escaped the Dreadlord and was alive somewhere in the world. Since then we have heard nothing of him. Shortly after the old sage arrived some of the local lords' sons started asking questions about Dreadlords and the terrible things away south. Three of them set off to do something about it. One of them returned with terrible tales about some perilous journey he had endured and he said the last he saw of the King's missing son had been right before a griffin devoured him. The other two lordlings did not return with him and were thought dead until one returned not a week ago. The boy returned but quite changed. Folk draw away from him as they would from an open grave. He radiates evil and fear as if he bathes in them. He returned to his father, who was a rather important lord of Ithamar, and the poor man and his eldest son died not three days after Ephod returned thus making the vile boy the new lord in his father's stead. The boy is now putting much pressure on the King and I am not sure how long his Majesty can withstand him, for some of the lesser lords are adding their support to that of this vile new lord."

Bryant's eyes were wide, "I did not think to see Ephod again! He is quite human?"

The Wanderer eyed the boy strangely and said, "what else would he be? He is quite human in form but there is some quality about his voice, movements, and mannerisms that seems quite the contrary, though he looks a man."

Bryant's eyes narrowed, "what then has become of him? I saw him ride off willingly with a Dreadlord intent on gaining whatever power he could."

The Wanderer said, "that might explain everything about him then. He is probably a Spy."

Bryant asked, "a Spy?"

The man gave him a curious look and said, "the Enemy is rumored to have many servants abroad that blend in with mortal men at all levels of society and in all countries, but they are not quite human any longer. They have given themselves fully over to the Enemy and report all they see to him and also engage in whatever nefarious activities they can for his benefit. Some are said to actually rule in the southern countries. If such should gain the throne of Ithamar it could drastically shift the balance of power in the middle kingdoms. The middle kingdoms have been historically stubborn about accepting anything as truth that deals with the Great King and his Son. They consider the Infernal Realms, the Enemy, and all his minions to be nothing but myth; they think the same of the King and the Brightlands. Of late, Ithamar has finally shown some promise in actually accepting the truth of the King. If we can gain Ithamar for the King it may shift the neighboring Kingdoms into a more favorable position to do likewise but if this Spy gains the throne instead, he could gain the Enemy a firm foothold in the middle kingdoms that he has never had. The King has turned a blind eye to those who wish to serve the King until now, but this vile new lord is urging him to do otherwise. It soon may not be safe to speak of the King in public. That is why I came to find you."

The boy said, "it is good to know why I am here."

The man gave him a scandalized look, "you do not know why you are here?"

The boy shrugged, "I do now. What exactly were you looking for anyway?"

The man smiled, "I was not sure myself, I only knew I should come to this inn and seek the help we so desperately need."

Just then another man came into the inn, briefly scanned the patrons, and seated himself at the table next to Hayden. The man welcomed the boy, who froze when he recognized the old man's companion. "Bryant?" gasped the young man, "where have you been? It seems all we ever hear are rumors of your impending doom or certain death but each time you appear once more to gainsay them."

The old man nodded, "that explains much then. So you are the chronically vanished son of the King then?"

Bryant smiled sheepishly, "that I am. What of you Warde?"

The boy said quietly, "when you returned from exile I was heartened to have my old companion in diversion back, but the boy I knew seemingly perished somewhere in the wilderness and someone quite different had returned. I listened to the things you said and outwardly called you mad, but in my heart I wondered how anyone could believe anything so passionately that they were willing to suffer such humiliation on its behalf. Then that thing appeared and carried you away and I really began to wonder if there were not more to life and if you might perhaps be right. Thankfully Hayden arrived not long after you vanished and to him I gave an open ear and more importantly an open heart. I am finally convinced of what you both had to say and he has kindly taken me on as his apprentice."

The old man muttered something about needing someone to do his laundry but seemed quite pleased with the boy's speech. "What of you Bryant? One of Ephod's companions returned with the wildest tales, can they be true? Ephod is also returned but not as we once knew him."

Bryant said, "I do not know what the boy has told you but we certainly experienced many strange things upon that Road. He ran off when a griffin threatened to block our path; the creature turned out to be quite harmless and let me pass unhindered after Ephod ran off and abandoned me to the creature's seeming lack of mercy. We reached the end of the Road where we encountered a Dreadlord. A Messenger chased the thing off for a time and confronted Ephod and myself. Ephod wished to join the Messengers but refused to bend knee to the King thus was he denied his goal. The Dreadlord offered him the power he had been refused by the Messenger and they rode off together and I have not seen him since. I was allowed to join the Messengers and since have been off on a few adventures and now I am here to counteract whatever plot Ephod is attempting."

Warde shook his head in disbelief, "you a Messenger? The boy who could once drink us all under the table! But your tale is too strange to disbelieve."

Bryant laughed, "it is certainly as easy to believe you to be an aspiring Wanderer!"

Warde blushed, "what can I say but that the Master has the power to change hearts."

Bryant reached over and clasped his friend's hand, "well said my friend."

Hayden cleared his throat, "now that all these mushy reunions are finished, what are we going to do about our vile lord?"

Bryant sobered, "I doubt it would avail us if I went to speak with him?"

Hayden snorted, "he would have your head on a pike faster than he had his father and brother murdered. I know little of the powers these Spies possess, but I am sure he is a match for any man with spells and vile weapons beyond count at his disposal."

Bryant asked, "do you know anything of the nature of Spies? Are they akin to Dreadlords and Soldiers in any way? Can a mortal blade harm them? Can they die or are they beyond death and can only be temporarily vanquished?"

"Excellent questions," said the old man, "but I have no answers. But I am certain the fiend cannot be reasoned with and that he is extremely dangerous. Your father is in terrible danger as are the other great lords of Ithamar, either of being destroyed if they stand against Ephod or of falling under his sway."

Bryant said, "I will need to learn more of this new danger before I can confront Ephod. I shall go to my father and learn what is passing in Ithamar. You two had best continue teaching the people of Ithamar that which they most need to hear. I thank you for your help." He stood, bowed, and left the inn.

Warde said to his master, "he has certainly grown in his absence."

Hayden smiled, "I think we have found our hope in the current crisis. Come, we had best be about our own business." Warde smiled, helped his aged master to his feet, and they both made for the door. A man sitting quietly beside the fire followed them out into the fading day.

Bryant found Erian waiting patiently; he led him to a quiet corner of the stableyard that they might speak privately. He told Erian all that had passed in the inn. The stallion said, "a Spy? The Enemy has many servants in many guises, shapes, and forms. The Dreadlords are the most obvious and the most vile, but they are far from alone. We had best learn more about your late friend's new occupation before you confront him."

Bryant was hoping Erian would have been of more help in the matter but he knew little more than he had just learned from the Wanderer. He mounted and together they rode towards the castle, wondering how to get themselves admitted without the whole kingdom learning that he had returned. He did not want Ephod to know until he the last moment. Approaching the main gates openly would be an excellent way to let everyone know he was home. He thought for a moment and then turned Erian towards a small gate to one side of the castle, used mostly by servants and laborers to provide for the needs of the kitchens and the stables. There was usually only one guard set to watch it and it was usually an older specimen or one that was out of favor with their captain at the moment. Either way it might suit their needs. Suddenly Erian stopped and turned his great head that he might stare at Bryant with one eye and said, "why need we go through the gate? Mortal walls cannot hinder us if we do not wish it."

Bryant said quietly, "perhaps not but that does not mean it will not cause a panic if someone sees us and that will only make our job more difficult."

"I suppose," said the stallion. Bryant said, "if this does not work we shall try your idea but in a little used part of the castle." Erian nodded his approval and they continued on towards the Kitchen Gate.

There was a graying guard seemingly asleep at his post, but Bryant saw his eyes occasionally glint in the torchlight and knew him only to be feigning. Bryant stopped a polite distance from the guard, dismounted, bowed politely, and asked, "I am come to see the King."

The guard eyed the boy for a moment and almost laughed at the youth's audacity but there was something in the boy's face and seriousness that stayed his guffaw. "You look familiar," said the old man, "you know the King?"

The boy said quietly, "I am his missing son gone these five years. I am returned on an important matter but wish my presence not to be known by certain important persons within the court."

The old man nodded sagely, "it is well that you would keep Lord Ephod ignorant of your return. He would not be friendly to such as you. I recognize you now boy. I shall let you pass but get up to no mischief."

The boy smiled, "mischief is the last thing I intend sir."

The guard nodded and let the boy pass. Bryant left Erian to his own devices and went in search of his father. He knew well the little used passages and doors within the keep and was soon deep within the castle seeking the King. This time in the evening the King should have withdrawn to his private rooms unless some court entertainment or pressing matter of state preoccupied him. He found his father's door unguarded, which meant the man was not within. He went in search of the small audience chamber the King used to meet privately with various ambassadors, lords, merchants, and advisors. He found the door guarded and smiled quietly to himself. As he watched from a shadowed doorway, Ephod stormed from the room and deeper into the castle. His old friend seemed to walk about with a shadow for a cloak and evil hung heavy in the air.

The King did not emerge so he must yet be within, perhaps deep in thought. The guards would certainly not let the boy pass without questions so Bryant ghosted down the hall and entered the unguarded room adjacent to the King's current chamber. He then put his purported ability to the test and banged his nose on the wall. Then he remembered he had to concentrate to accomplish such a feat. He tried once more and this time he succeeded. His father did not notice him enter, for he sat deep in thought staring blankly at his feet. He looked thrice the age he should have been, apparently Ephod was causing grey hairs to flourish upon the king's scalp. Something caused the king to look up for a moment and he jumped to find himself not alone, but upon recognizing his vanished son he seemed near to fainting. He looked for a moment as if he might call the guards but then curiosity overcame his fear and he said in a shaky voice, "Bryant?"

The boy smiled to be recognized, "it is I sire."

The man gaped but also smiled to see his son yet alive, "you are not dead? You are not a ghost or a figment of my aging imagination?"

The boy laughed, "no sire, I am myself and I am quite alive. I have returned to aide you in your struggles with Ephod."

The King paled at mention of his dread new lord and said, "if you value your life my son, it would be best if you vanished as silently as you came. If you are still of that curious persuasion, I doubly urge you to flee. This is no place for an old man, let alone a boy. Your old friend is no longer himself."

"I know that sire," said the boy firmly, "but I alone can deal with him. His master is powerful and full of malice yet my Master is stronger still and will not allow such evil to flourish."

The king sighed, "I see you still believe all those fairy stories and they still give you airs of grandeur, but know that this is not something that can be resolved with the sword. The man is altogether evil not even sparing his own father and brother! I fear for my own life if my will does not fail first. He would have had the throne already if the other lords would have fallen in behind to support his grab for power. Each encounter with him wearies me greatly and I find myself struggling with all my waning strength to avoid doing that which he wishes. Soon I shall be naught but a puppet if something does not change."

Bryant said, "I am not some idealistic boy taken with fancies sire. I have endured much in the intervening years and have been sent to deal with this tyrant. What can you tell me about any strange abilities or powers he seems to possess?"

The boy's seriousness finally started to convince the king that perhaps his mad son was not so mad as commonly thought. He said, "as I said he has considerable power to influence the minds of others. It takes all my will to stand against him. He radiates evil and fear enough to cow even the staunchest heart. I do not think he fears either imprisonment or death. In fact I am not sure he fears anything; if he did I would certainly use it against him."

The boy said, "continue to resist him as best you can but I see I must deal with him sooner than late. But do nothing to incur his wrath or rouse his suspicion. He is staying in the castle? What is it he urges you to do?"

The king laughed wanly, "I incur his wrath simply by denying his will. He sometimes stays in the castle but he also goes home or spends an evening at the house of some other lord. He wants more power than I will allow him, he wants to change various of our laws and distort justice, he wishes to overburden the poor with more taxes, and he wants to make it a capital offense for anyone to believe in this King of yours."

Bryant nodded, bowed, and said, "farewell father. I shall try and deal with this fiend shortly that he trouble you no more. Give mother my regards but keep my presence a secret as long as you can."

His father smiled weakly and said, "you give hope to an old heart my son, but I fear it will all end in vain. Farewell." The King stared as the boy passed once more through the wall; if he had such odd skills, perhaps he could counteract the vile lord.

Bryant made his way back to the courtyard where he had left Erian. He found his friend in the middle of a scandal. A servant had come upon the unattended and unexplained horse and began asking questions but no one seemed to know why he was there. The stable boy certainly did not recognize the beast. Two guards, three servants, and the stable boy stood about the animal not knowing quite what to do. It had to have come from somewhere. Suddenly Bryant appeared and said, "thank you for watching my horse while I attended to my errand. I must be going now."

"Just who are you?" demanded one of the guards.

The boy smiled and said, "simply a servant on an errand for the King. I have accomplished my task and must now be about other errands."

The guard said, "and who let you in?"

The boy said, "the guard upon the Kitchen Gate knows me."

The guard rapped on the named door and it opened; a hurried conversation followed and the man returned saying, "very well, but next time you had best use the main gate like normal people."

The boy bowed deeply, led Erian from the castle, and the door slammed behind him. He said quietly to the cooperative guard, "I hope I did not cause you too much trouble."

The guard laughed, "not at all, I have been in the guard so many years that there is little they dare do to me save perhaps make me retire. How is the King?"

The boy shook his head, "highly troubled but I will do what I can. I thank you again for your aide."

He mounted and they vanished into the night. Now what to do about Ephod? As they rode on Erian said, "we should have snuck in. It would have caused less of a ruckus."

Bryant laughed, "I suppose you are right, as usual."

Erian laughed, "of course I am."

Bryant asked, "now if only I knew where Ephod was lurking perhaps we could follow him and learn more about his new situation."

The stallion smiled, "I saw him ride out of the main gates not long after you vanished. He was riding at a steady trot and headed west."

Bryant smiled, "you can be right more often if this is the result!"

They turned to follow the fled man. There was little doubt that Ephod had fled home for the night. His estate was not far to the west of the city and covered a significant amount of ground. They ghosted along the road and easily overtook the man who pressed his dark horse hard. He was almost impossible to see, being little more than a darker part of the night, but to the eyes of Bryant and Erian he was a dark blot too black to miss, for no natural night was ever that bleak. Erian's hooves made no noise upon the road as they ran. They stayed far enough behind that he might not turn around suddenly and notice them. The man finally reached his destination and his guards let him pass but his pursuers knew they would not be so easily admitted. They turned along a cart path that led alongside of the great walled house. Erian wanted to come too, but Bryant sensibly suggested that there was little he could do inside the house at the moment and would simply cause another scandal. Reluctantly he agreed and concealed himself in the woods opposite the path.

Bryant snuck through the wall and quickly found a place to conceal himself from casual sight where he could view the courtyard where Ephod was just dismounting. Ephod was about to storm into the house when a short man Bryant recognized from the inn stopped him and said something quietly which made Ephod snarl but he paid the spy who then scurried off. Ephod then stormed into the house in even more of an ill-temper than that which the King's continued stubbornness inspired. That cursed Wanderer and Warde were conspiring with a person unknown about something. He would get to the bottom of it and make an end of all three! Who would dare oppose him when no mortal could stand against him? He wondered what had become of Bryant; he certainly had found the more promising path. He silently thanked the strange man for denying him access to the Messengers, for it allowed him to follow a path to even greater power.

Bryant followed the man to his sleeping chambers, which were actually redundant as the Spy had no need of sleep, however he did need somewhere private to think and plot and work. Bryant thought to spy on the Spy from an adjacent room but he forgot one small detail that made such a task nearly impossible. He appeared to mortals as a plainly clad man in drab clothes but to the undead minions of the Enemy he shone like the new risen sun. He had entered the antechamber of Ephod's rooms hoping to find a hiding place only to inadvertently blind his quarry, who shrieked, "put out that light fool! I will have your head for this." Once Ephod's eyes adjusted to the unwelcome glare he said in astonishment, "Bryant! How did you get in here? What do you want? That is a stupid question, for you certainly want me to quit meddling in your father's affairs, but I am afraid I must disappoint you. I am more powerful than you can even begin to imagine. If you cherish your life, you had better vanish the same way you came, for soon I shall quit being merciful."

Bryant said quietly, "this is your only warning. Leave Ithamar in peace or I will do whatever is necessary to rid it of you."

Ephod laughed, "fool, I cannot die and neither will I leave simply because you ask nicely, which by the way you have yet to do! But that does not mean I shall not relish killing you. Your Master is powerless against mine and he will one day suffer the fate that you will this night." Bryant moved towards his sword but before he could draw it forth a ball of crimson flame shot from Ephod's outstretched hand washed over him. Bryant felt the heat but it did not injure him as he continued his move to free his blade. Ephod was quite aghast, "that should have left nothing but charred bone! No mortal can survive my magic!"

Bryant said patiently, "and who said I was mortal? Now surrender!"

Ephod had his own blade out in answer and they were soon entangled in a deadly dance of flashing steel. Ephod was effective in the defense; Bryant managed to score his wrist, which yielded only a sharp curse from his opponent. Ephod's blade struck Bryant in several places but burned far less than a Dreadlord's sword and therefore Bryant hoped it had not the power to banish him back to the River. "I am impressed," sneered Ephod, "you were far the inferior when last we crossed swords. How is it your blade can touch me? No other sword or knife has such power over me!"

Bryant said, "neither is my blade of mortal make."

Their swords flashed again and this time Bryant took Ephod's sword in the chest. The pain was intense but he did not vanish as he had feared. Ephod pulled back in astonishment, "what must I do to be rid of you?"

Bryant raised his own blade to strike once more but another ball of fire sprang forth from Ephod's hand, this one was black as starless night. This one did not harmlessly wash over him but consumed him utterly; as the blackness and torment of the flames took him he heard Ephod laughing coldly. Ephod watched the flames quickly engulf the boy who had been his friend and smiled to know he had the power to vanquish such a foe. He had been warned to be wary of the Messengers but it seemed they were not so dangerous after all. Soon there was nothing left of the boy but memory; he had vanished completely, including his fell blade. Not even a hint of ash remained. A fitting end for a veritable nuisance. Ephod turned his thoughts to more important matters.

Bryant awoke completely submerged in the River. He swam to shore before the current could sweep him away. He scanned himself once out of the water; he was surprised to find himself completely unsinged. He felt eyes upon him and turned to find himself not alone. Jonin stood nearby and said sheepishly, "I forgot to mention Spies. Not quite as vile as the Dreadlords but much more numerous and sneaky. They can wield many vile spells, most cannot touch us but the Black Fire consumes us utterly; it can even touch the Pegassi. It is certainly not a pleasant experience. Their swords are painful but harmless unless he happens to decapitate you, but yours can send them back to their vile master who may just be angered enough by their failure to resign them to the Soldiery. How fare you in dealing with your former friend?"

Bryant said, "we were never what one would call close friends and now he is become something altogether evil. I have no qualms about facing him. Is there anything else you forgot to mention that might come in handy?"

Jonin laughed, "the Enemy has many servants and weapons, each more strange and vile than the last. Most you will have to discover for yourself."

Bryant asked, "you mentioned something about decapitation being a problem?"

Jonin said, "most swords, save those of the Dreadlords and a few other of the Enemy's most favored minions, have no power over us save to inflict a passing bout of pain. But any blade that can touch us can banish us back to the River if it sunders our head from our body."

Bryant snorted, "to think one could speak of such a thing so casually!"

Jonin laughed, "it is more an irritation than a real danger."

Bryant then asked, "is there any way to keep others from seeing us when we would rather not be seen?"

Jonin smiled, "all you need do is concentrate and you will appear to all who can see you as you are as you wish to be seen."

Bryant sighed, "that would have been helpful to know."

Jonin laughed, "you will not now forget it. You had best return to your assigned task."

Erian suddenly appeared and faster than thought they were bound once more for Ithamar. As they rode, Bryant said quietly, "I am sorry to always be troubling you so."

Erian laughed, "it is the nature of your service and mine, what is to apologize for? You might as well apologize for the color of your eyes."

While Bryant could be banished thus and yet with Erian's speed return at almost the same moment he disappeared, it often did not happen in that manner. In fact much time could pass between the moment he disappeared and the time of his return. They arrived once more at Ephod's manor only to find the man himself fled but a Dreadlord and six soldiers standing in the courtyard preparing to leave on some errand. Of course it would have to be the same monstrosity that had confronted and humiliated the boy so many times before. He mocked saying, "your friend is not here and I suspect you must rather follow after him than stay here and deal with me though you might find my errand just as terrible. He went to deal with your obstinate father. I am off to find your friend the Wanderer." He laughed cruelly and Bryant wished with all his heart to stay and fight the diabolical creature but he knew his duty lay with Ephod and thence he must go. Erian knew this as well as his rider and needed no urging to go after the fled Ephod. Erian seemed to know exactly where they would be and when. This time, Bryant had no wish to appear other than they were.

Ephod was riding hard with six Soldiers at his command when the Pegassi appeared before them on the road, rearing with his great wings spread. Ephod's mortal horse went mad but this did not keep him from yelling to the Soldiers behind him, "shoot him you fool!" Bryant heard a bowstring snap and wondered what could be gained from a single arrow when the answer quite surprised him. He felt a great pain in his side, felt himself falling from Erian's back, he hit the ground hard, and as his blurred vision finally faded to black he watched Erian disappear, consumed by the Black Flame.

Bryant found himself facing Jonin once more but it seemed all a dream, for things beyond the edge of sight were vague and fuzzy. But how could one dream if one did not sleep and could not be rendered unconscious? Jonin seemed to sense his thoughts and said, "you are unconscious."

Bryant started in surprise, "how? What happened?"

Jonin said grimly, "it is perhaps the strangest weapon of the Enemy; it is the Arrow of Discord and it restores mortal life."

Bryant frowned, "why would the Enemy want to restore someone to life..." He suddenly began to realize the consequences of such a weapon. There seemed no way the Enemy could destroy one of the Messengers, they could only be banished for a little while. By restoring mortality, with it came all the vulnerabilities and frailties associated with that condition; one could be tortured, imprisoned, and killed.

Jonin let these thoughts settle in the boy's mind and then continued, "you are not truly mortal, you have drunk of the River and that cannot be taken from you, only willingly forsaken by your own choosing. Once death takes you, you will be restored to your former condition."

Bryant asked, "if they have such a weapon why do they not use it to decimate us? They could just keep us captive for the rest of our natural lives and then repeat the process."

Jonin smiled, "that would be the ideal but there is ever only one such weapon within the Enemy's possession and while its victim lives it cannot be used again; you must die before the thing can be used again."

Bryant nodded thoughtfully and asked, "and what happens if it is used against our enemies?"

Jonin shook his head, "we are not allowed to possess such a weapon but I assume it would do to them as it does to us."

"What am I to do?" asked Bryant.

Jonin said, "whatever you must to accomplish your mission. You are in an abnormal position but you are still a Messenger and must act accordingly."

Bryant nodded grimly and suddenly the darkness returned. He awoke and wished that he had not. His side throbbed where the arrow had pierced it, his body ached from the fall he had suffered, and breathing was an agony, making him wonder if he had punctured a lung. But far worse was the look of agony upon his father's face as the two Soldiers that had been holding his prone form by the shoulders dropped him carelessly to the floor. Ephod and two other Soldiers occupied the tiny chamber in which they had found the king whom they now held captive. Ephod smiled maliciously at the wounded boy and scoffed, "how the mighty have fallen. You are now as vulnerable as every other man who walks the earth and just as pathetic. And now your precious father is going to demand your head for your crimes against the new order of things, else I shall have his."

Ephod turned his cruel eyes upon the stricken king and demanded, "now your highness, you will do as I say or you will share your son's fate. Your first act at my behest will be to declare all nonsense pertaining to this so-called 'Great King' anathema and punishable by death. Even now the Wanderer and his foul apprentice are safely in our hands. In celebration of this decree, I think all three of these heretics should be executed at dawn before the entire city to illustrate the seriousness of your new law. We will discuss what else needs to be changed after that. Agreed?"

The king looked with grieved eyes upon his son, it was obvious the boy was dying from the arrow in his side and would be dead soon regardless. The king said pathetically, "it shall be as you say it must."

He looked pleadingly at the boy who said weakly, "do not grieve for me Sire but do as you must. Trust the King and things will be accomplished as they must." Ephod kicked him cruelly in the ribs for his outburst. The king had not previously paid much heed to this King fellow but perhaps the matter needed further thought if this vile wretch was so adamantly against such an idea and his son was willing to die for such a cause; he only wondered if there was hope for one willing to trade the lives of three of the King's servants for his own, one his own son! He wept at his own cowardice but there was little he could do in the matter at the moment. The boy's cough shook his entire body and produced a spattering of blood that stained the carpet. Ephod looked with disgust at the Soldiers wishing they had more innate sense; killing the boy would not benefit them at all but the idiots had failed to aim for a non-vital area and the boy would die regardless.

A thought occurred to him suddenly and he wondered if it would work. The arrow would be useful once more when the boy died, but if he left it embedded in his flesh would it again render him mortal or would he stay dead, as the arrow would trap his corpse in mortality while his spirit was sundered from his body thus forcing him to cross the River and leave them alone forever! However, he could not have the boy injured in similar fashion if he should again be rendered mortal lest they be in the exact same quandary. He ordered the Soldiers to hold the boy and he yanked the shaft from where it was embedded deeply in the boy's chest. Bryant screamed as the thing was pulled forth and then again as it was driven deep into his thigh where it would not prove a fatal wound should Ephod's little experiment prove him right. "Now majesty," said Ephod condescendingly, "rouse your servants and soldiers and let them wake the cityfolk that all might gather and watch the morning's spectacle." They drug the failing boy to the square in the center of the city and flung him down to await the dawn. One Soldier was posted to guard him, but he was too weak to escape and Ephod wondered if he would even survive until morning.

Bryant lay in an agony of pain, his mind could hardly focus, and each breath was a struggle to survive. He heard the screams and weeping of the townsfolk as they were wakened before dawn and herded towards the square. The grim and shivering crowd gathered in the dim grey light that preceded the dawn. They drew back in terror as the Dreadlord and his Soldiers rode forth with Hayden and Warde both securely bound. They were herded up the steps to the platform where Bryant lay under the watchful eye of the Soldier. Surprise and pity filled their eyes as they looked upon the stricken boy. They said nothing but grim determination filled their eyes. They waited patiently and finally Ephod, the king, and all their retinue arrived with the headsman in tow. Bryant could hardly think but he had come to similar conclusions as Ephod after the Spy had removed the arrow and driven it again into a non-vital area. His thoughts chilled him to the bone but he also found a new source of hope and prayed desperately for the strength to act when the chance came. Ephod and the king ascended the platform with the Dreadlord, the executioner, and several of the Soldiers. Ephod announced the new order of things, seconded meekly by the king. The citizenry groaned in dread and terror. The crimes of the condemned were listed and even Bryant's hazy mind thought the list quite impressive. Hayden was then forced forward to the block and the headsman raised his axe. While they were busy with the Wanderer, Bryant took his chance.

As the axe found its mark, Bryant rolled to his good leg, as he stood he grasped the arrow and pulled it loose, and lunged towards Ephod. He felt the sword of the Soldier that had been standing over him pierce his chest but before he fell he drove the arrow into Ephod's shoulder as the man yelled at the Soldier, "no you fool! Do not kill him!"

But it was too late, the deed had been done. Whether the sword, the exertion, or both together had proved fatal none knew, but the second death took Bryant the arrow regained its potency and rendered Ephod mortal ere he could pull the offending shaft free of his shoulder. Even as the boy fell dead, he felt more than alive once more and his sword was in his hand. The Soldiers fell upon him like a pack of wolves but fell just as easily to his blade. Then the Dreadlord appeared to deal with the annoying child. This time Bryant succeeded in felling the vile minion before finishing off the rest of the Soldiers. The square was in uproar and hope shone bright in the eyes of Warde and the king though the former's also held tears for his slain master. Finally, all the vile minions of the Enemy were destroyed or rendered helpless. The king's own soldiers had come and taken custody of Ephod once they realized he was no longer an undefeatable and deadly menace. The king shouted joyfully, "forget the order that has just come to pass! May all the people of Ithamar willingly seek after the True King, for it is he that is victorious this day!" The people cheered and finally turned a willing ear to Warde who had much work to do as he filled his slain master's place. His heart grieved but was also greatly encouraged by what had come to pass that day. The old man was given a proper burial and many mourned his passing.

The king withdrew to a private place with his son and asked, "what just happened? You were dying and then dead and now alive. Ephod possessed terrible magic and used it on a whim. Many good men died ere he forced his way into my presence this night. Now he is helplessly in the custody of the very soldiers he once slaughtered with impunity. What is going on?"

Bryant quickly tried to explain but only managed to confuse the poor king more. Finally he said, "Ephod has traded his soul to the Dark One for vile powers and could not be killed by mortal means. I was sent to stop him but temporarily rendered mortal by the same arrow that did just that to him when death took me. What will come of him upon death I know not, for that resides in the purview of his dark master. He may simply return to again wreak havoc on Ithamar or perhaps he will be cast into the abyss to trouble the world no longer. I suggest you lock him away securely, at least until enough time passes that he cannot again lay claim to his lordship and use it as a weapon against you."

The king shook his head, "I would rather watch him die this very day but what you say is wise in its own peculiar way. I shall do as you wish."

Bryant added, "I would place him somewhere safe, secure, and guard him heavily, for the minions of the Dark One will be eager to kill him, for while he lives one of their greatest weapons is useless."

The king nodded, "what of you?"

Bryant smiled sadly but great was the joy in his eyes, "my duty here is nearly finished and whence I go from here I do not know. We may never meet again this side of the River. Listen to the Wanderer and we shall meet again one day. I will speak with Ephod before I go."

The king said, "I am still confused, but know that I love you dearly and could not be prouder of you. You will be missed." Bryant smiled and went to find the prisoner.

He found the man buried deep in the castle dungeons; the Spy glowered inconsolably at his guards and the dank walls about him. He saw Bryant and sneered, "you cannot do this to me! My master will never stand for it. They will come for me. You will see!"

Bryant said quietly, "they will come for you certainly but only to see that the arrow is once more useful. What your master will think of your failure only he knows. You will be lucky to be reduced to a Soldier. However long it lasts, it will still be far too short for the darkness that awaits you will last for all eternity. This cell is splendid by comparison."

Ephod growled, "be gone fool! You know nothing of my master. Be gone and mock me no longer."

Bryant said quietly, "farewell my friend."

He turned to go and found himself standing in the town square with Erian before him. He embraced the great neck and said, "I have missed you! I thought you could not be touched by the weapons of the Enemy?"

He snorted, "not by their weapons perhaps but certain of their spells work as well against me as they do against you. That was certainly an unpleasant experience!"

Bryant laughed and climbed aback his friend and asked, "where are we off to next?"

Erian laughed and said, "only the Master knows." He reared and was off with all speed to their next adventure. Ephod sulked in his cell for a few days but it was not long before Bryant's prediction was fulfilled and the man was slain by some minion of the Enemy that none had seen come or go.

Part III:

Allimer was a Prince of the elves, an heir that would never see the throne for he had a father that would never die. The elves of the Grey Lands did not die of natural causes such as old age or disease, but could die by violence. They would live as long as time itself and then like all other souls must then face the consequences of their decisions, but for a time that inevitability seemed quite remote. Some had been there at the Beginning when the worlds were forged, man rebelled, and then they themselves had crossed the River and had dwelt apart ever since. They wanted nothing to do with either the King or the Enemy or Men but preferred to live by their own laws and in their own way. The various kinds of Fairyfolk were governed by their own races and lived by their own laws, but in all matters that involved more than one race, the elves were the race to which the final decision fell. Thus had they lived for centuries and so were they happy to live until the End of Days.

They lived apart and considered themselves wiser than either the Enemy or the King and considered men a lesser race and a nuisance. The servants of the Enemy and the King were ignored as much as possible while men who were foolish enough to enter the Fairy Wood were dealt with cruelly and swiftly. Their kin that yet lived across the River had no contact whatsoever with them and were considered something akin to mankind in their infancy of mind that would allow them to live willingly under the dominion of the King. Those few among them that actually wished to seek the King were shunned by all their relations and usually crossed the River in despair, for they no longer found solace among their own kind in the Grey Lands. The Enemy bothered little about them for they would one day be his without any effort on his own part, save in encouraging them to rebel in the first place. The King sent his servants but they were ignored or killed to no avail.

Occasionally the occupants of the Fairy Wood, especially the restless youngsters or more nefarious elders, would stray from their own realm and go wandering in the lands of men, seeing what mischief they might cause or what adventures they might have. Men feared those woods with good reason for few who went in came out, and none unchanged by the encounter. Such were the tales of chance encounters with such folk that some thought it all a myth while others feared to go much beyond the borders of their own village. Adventurers and young men often ventured into those woods hoping to find themselves the hero of some tale but more often the only tale told was of a quick and tragic end. There were rumors of gold and beautiful elven maidens lurking aplenty in those woods but few were those brave or mad enough to see if the tales were true.

Such was the world in which Allimer found himself. He had no great future ahead of him and as a son of royalty he had no lack of wealth and respect and influence. He had no challenge or interest or purpose in life. He was bored. Finally the day came when he could stand it no longer and approached his father saying, "my heart is not content to linger here in luxury and safety or I shall go mad. I wish to go abroad (by which he meant to leave the Fairy Wood and wander about in the lands of men for a time)."

His father said, "as you wish it my son, so shall it be. I look forward to hearing of your adventures. It is always amusing to hear tales of how men react to our intrusions into their lands. Farewell."

The boy bowed and went to prepare for his journey. He and his dearest friend meant to ride forth together and see what the wide world held for them. The other boy was of common birth but that mattered but little to the prince for he cared nothing for such distinctions. They mounted their horses and rode off into the growing day, eager to see what life was like beyond the cloistered forest. Unlike many of their kin, they did not hold men in complete contempt but would rather see these strange creature for themselves and then make up their own minds upon the matter. They had many minor reasons for going, but the main reason that they allowed no one, most of all themselves, to know was that they were not content with what they knew of the history of their people and their deepest held beliefs. They wanted to go out and see if they could discover for themselves if there was a deeper truth in the world or if it was as everyone assumed it to be. They were many days upon the road before they came out of the territory held by the Fairyfolk into lands more hospitable to men. Each wore a floppy hat that hung down and covered their ears that men not see that they were anything but strangely tall, lithe, and pale folk.

They finally came to a village upon a market day and watched curiously as all the various folk frantically hastened from place to place, laughing, yelling, singing, bargaining, complaining, and all the other frenzied activities found in such a place at such a time. Such a chaotic and hectic ordeal was never seen among the more noble Fairyfolk and would have been sneered upon by more lofty minds, but the two youths found the whole ordeal strangely charming. Evening fell and they found themselves drawn to the inn where the locals had retired after the tumult of the day. They found a table, procured some of the local ale and provender, and listened in astonishment as a man by the fire told tale after tale to the gathered throng. They were amused to hear supposed tales of their own race and fellow Fairyfolk, but this made them wonder at all the rumors held to be true about men among their own folk. What if it was a mutual misunderstanding? What else had been misconstrued, misunderstood, ignored, or forgotten by the Fairyfolk over time? The storyteller finally grew weary of speaking and withdrew to his room after collecting the coins generously donated by the grateful patrons for his efforts. Another man stood, this one in his middle years though he seemed far older, for his had not been an easy life.

He began to speak also, but though his was a quieter manner his words were far more fervent. He spoke of the Great King and the Enemy and their unending war for the souls of men and the Last Day and of many other things that deeply troubled the hearts of the two vagabonds. Some of the patrons scarce paid heed while others could not draw themselves from his words. Some cheered, more booed, most just ignored the man. He finished his soliloquy and withdrew to a private corner where a few gathered with many questions. The hour was growing late when the last of his questioners withdrew and only he, the innkeeper, and the two young elves remained in the common room. The innkeeper obliviously went about the last of his evening chores and the two finally approached the one. He eyed them curiously but said nothing.

They studied one another for many minutes before finally Allimer spoke, "are you simply a storyteller, as was the man who preceded you telling myth, history, and legend only to earn your keep, or are you a man of the truth?"

The man smiled good naturedly and said, "I know I speak truly lad but whether you accept what I say as truth is your choice to make. Some see me as much a teller of tales as that other fellow. Are you curious, skeptical, adamantly opposed, or a fervent believer?"

The elf prince for a moment felt insulted to be called 'lad' by a creature only a few decades old when he himself had lived for centuries, but then he remembered the man would not know that so allowed the feeling to pass but not unperceived by the man. Allimer said, "we are seekers after truth my good man. We as yet do not know what to believe. All our lives we have heard one thing defined as truth and tonight we hear something altogether different. How is one to know?"

The man laughed warmly, "an excellent question and all I can say is follow your heart. Listen to the evidence, weigh it in your mind, and then decide yourself if it is truth or folly, but ware, for it is the most important decision you shall ever make."

"How come you to believe, nay not only believe but to preach this matter regardless that others might consider you a fool?" asked the prince.

The man said, "I have more regard for what the King shall think of me than what any man can say about me or do to me. I once thought as you, that it was all myth and wishful thinking, but I have come to see differently and know it to be true. I know men who have willingly died for such ideas and a nobler death I know not. I have seen others abandon everything to serve the King and a life of greater purpose one cannot imagine. I have seen great and wonderful things in my life but also tragic and terrible, but even in the darkest night I know that in the end all that is right and good shall triumph and this night is but a passing shade."

The prince and his friend were impressed by the man's passion and Allimer asked, "and what is it to serve this King of yours?"

The man said, "each man's service is different I suppose. Some are Wanderers such as I, nomads who go from place to place spreading word of what the King has done for us, or perhaps we stay somewhere that is never quite home, for ours is not a mortal country but lies beyond the River. Others stay where they are and live quietly loving their neighbors and raising their families and serving the Master as they might. Then there are those strange folk who abandon all, including mortal life, to serve their King with all their heart and being. These mysterious men are called the Messengers and ride at the behest of their Lord to defend the innocent against the predations of the vile minions of the Enemy."

Allimer was curious, "they speak little of such emissaries of the King in my lands, for such men are considered beneath our notice but you speak of them highly."

Warde's eyes lost their focus for a moment as his mind wandered to years long gone and said, "many would call them fools but the world would be a dark place indeed if not for their aide to mortal men for none else can stand against the minions of darkness, yet they hold back the tide that men may yet live in relative peace and safety, at least from such powers as that. I met one of them once long ago. In former days he had been something of a friend but then he disappeared only to reappear in ignominy whereby he shook the whole city. He vanished once more and we all thought him dead, but when he returned for the final time he saved the kingdom from a terrible plot at great cost to himself. Yes I will speak of them with respect, for I owe him my life and the greatest thanks. One lifetime is enough for me to live, I think he shall serve until the very end of time yet never find rest or a home, though he could certainly cross the River at the time of his choosing."

Allimer was intrigued and said, "I would be honored to meet such a person. How does one arrange such a meeting?"

Warde shook his head, "that I cannot say. They hardly know themselves where their next assignment will take them or when. But I think if you seek them with pure intention perhaps your prayer shall be answered."

The elves retired for the evening and wondered at the strange man's words. As they lay in their blankets under all the stars of heaven, Allimer said to his companion, "what think you of this man and his tales?"

His companion yawned and said, "there is truth in his words, you can feel it. Or at least you can feel that he thinks all the world of what he says. These are words to make a soul quake and yet dare to hope. What of you?"

Allimer smiled vaguely up at the starry host and said, "I think my father would be ashamed of me yet I feel ashamed of the way our folk have behaved since the beginning if all our history be true! We think ourselves the epitome of all created things yet we did not create ourselves. How can we hold our Maker in disdain when we must certainly be less than he? Is this not the same spirit of rebellion that drove the Dark One from the presence of the King? Where he was cast aside, our people chose to walk away. We are a race of arrogant fools if all this be true. I must learn more, but I think already it has snared my heart and will soon gladly consume my whole being."

His companion said, "your thoughts are an exact echo of my own. Let us learn more and oh, that it could be I that returns to our people and tells them that which they need most to hear." Allimer said nothing but smiled thoughtfully before sweet sleep fell upon him.

Morning came as morning has since that first bright dawn and warmed the face of the sleeping prince. He opened his eyes and greeted the new risen morn with a smile and a hope he had not known before. Finally, he thought he had found a purpose not only for himself but for all creation and all things beyond. Allimer's companion had wandered off some distance by himself and sat beside a little chattering brook deep in thought. He looked up when his concerned friend wandered over and placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked into the prince's worried eyes and said, "I have sat up half the night and all the morning and know what I must do but I fear you will think me a fool. I would follow this wanderer wherever he goes for a time, learn all that he has to teach me, and then I will return to our people and tell them that which they refuse to hear from any other source."

Allimer smiled and said, "I had come to tell you something that I thought you would call foolish but now I see that I am the fool to be so thinking. That which you wish to pursue is no small matter and a thing needful to our people. I wish you well my friend, for all the future hopes of our people certainly rest upon your shoulders. I fear my future lies along another path than yours. I want to find one of these Messengers and learn the truth of such service." Each looked long into the gaze of the other and what passed between them said more than words ever could. They parted then, each to follow his own path. Feladon sought out and was eagerly welcomed by the Wanderer though Warde was quite surprised to learn the true nature of his new pupil; he was quite eager to see what might result from such an adventure. Allimer rode off alone to see if he might not find one of these legendary men.

He rode in silence for three days but saw no one. Finally he came to another village where he reluctantly took a seat in the back of the common room and watched hopefully but his heart had begun to despair of ever learning the truth of that which he had so eagerly set forth to learn. He had been three days alone and he missed Feladon acutely, he missed the familiarity of his own folk, and he was beginning to doubt the seed of hope that had only begun to grow in his heart. He began to feel himself a fool for ever undertaking this adventure, let alone for believing the man and abandoning his reason and his only friend in this strange world he found himself in. If there were some all powerful King could he not keep such feelings from afflicting the hearts of earnest souls?

"You look troubled," said a plainly dressed man standing next to his table. Allimer started at the voice and glanced around at the empty common room, wondering why the fellow chose to bother him and not find his own seat elsewhere. "May I sit down?" asked the stranger. Allimer nodded vaguely, not really caring what the man did so long as he was left to ponder in peace. He had not expected such a mythic person to jump out of the trees before him but neither had he expected to feel so utterly alone. He sighed and was surprised to find himself eye to eye with the stranger.

"What is it you want?" asked the exasperated elf.

The man smiled in secret amusement and said, "that is an excellent question, but I am afraid that I will not know until you tell me what it is that is troubling you."

The elf stared in surprise, "you want me to reveal my heart to a complete stranger?"

The man laughed, "you certainly need to speak to someone, desperately by the look of you, and I see no close relative or other confidant about thus I must do."

The elf could not help but smile at the man's curious logic. He said, "I suppose you have the right of it. Though you may think me mad, I shall unburden my heart upon you but remember it is a burden you asked to bear." The man nodded encouragingly and the elf began, "I am of royal blood and becoming dissatisfied with life as I knew it, I set out with a friend to seek adventure and knowledge in lands strange to me. Upon an evening we heard a man telling strange tales and our hearts were moved. My friend went with that teller of tales to learn more that he might then carry what he had learned back to our impoverished people. I wished him well and went in search of truth as well, but find myself alone, discouraged, and regretting my rash decision. I begin to wonder why I ever felt such hope and was so eager as to abandon all my former wisdom and even my kin."

The man said, "discouragement and disillusionment are bound to follow such hope and eagerness as sure as night follows day. You cannot expect a simple feeling to last forever for they are as unyielding as the tides in their ever changing and shifting patterns. Your hope will be renewed as will the eagerness come again but you must not be dismayed when your hope grows dim or your purpose cold. Cling to what you know to be true and even in the darkest night you will not be led astray and morning shall come again and joy with it."

The prince smiled saying, "you speak well for a stranger and seem to know well the hearts of men."

Bryant laughed, "even the heart of an elf it seems."

The elf winced, "is it that obvious? Why are you not afraid?"

The man smiled, "most folk would not be looking to see an elf thus your hat will be disguise enough but I assume nothing and therefore cannot be so easily fooled. Why should I fear one who comes in peace?"

The elf sighed, "you are a very strange man."

Bryant nodded as if this were certainly true and the elf laughed to see him take no offense. "What is it you seek?" asked the man.

The elf sighed, "I have trusted you this much so perhaps I can risk looking even more a fool before you. I seek to learn more of a mysterious folk known as the Messengers. Know you anything of them?"

The man smiled mysteriously and said, "I think I could answer a few questions pertaining to them."

Allimer smiled and said, "that is good, for I was beginning to think them a myth!"

The man laughed, "but they are a myth. At least to most men, for few see them and even fewer know the truth of them. What would you know of such a legend?"

Allimer said, "what are they? Who are they? How do I find them should I wish to join them?"

Bryant said, "brave questions but I shall answer as I may. The Messengers are those who choose to devote their entire being in service to the King. He sends them where he will, when he will. Their whole purpose becomes to fulfill his wishes in various matters, which usually means confronting all the evil and vile servants of the Enemy in all their myriad forms and schemes. It is no easy life for they are not spared pain, sorrow, and shame but ever is the joy and hope of the Master within them also. They have tasted of the River and therefore cannot die but not having crossed the River are yet vulnerable to all the griefs of this present age."

He continued, "only those with a fervent desire to serve their King in all things dare such a life but it is one well spent. They come from all lands and all peoples and any with a humble and fervent spirit can seek to ride among them. To join them you must take the Road and come successfully to its end; ware however, for it is not a journey taken lightly for it will try you severely and may even cost you your life. If you decide to take that path you abandon all you once held dear to seek a higher calling; above all you must never leave the Road else you will not find it again. Many tricks and traps abound upon it and many are those who have fallen afoul of them."

Allimer's eyes were wide but he now knew that it was for this he had left his home and all his life behind. He said, "tell me how to find this Road and I shall tread it."

Bryant said quietly, "just go out the door and follow the road you find there and it will lead you true."

Allimer did not understand in the least but was sure that he must accomplish this strange thing. He spent much of the night asking questions of the man regarding the King, and well into the late watches of the night was firmly convinced of the truth. He said, "when shall I begin this journey?"

The man said, "right now." Allimer would have dearly loved a few hours of sleep but he dared not deny the sage that stood plainly clad before him. He thanked the man profusely, found his horse, and was off into the night. Bryant watched him go with a curious smile upon his face and then vanished into the night.

Erian stood outside waiting for him and asked, "well?"

Bryant laughed at his old friend's comment and said, "our mission is finished for the night but what shall come of it only the boy knows."

Erian rolled his eyes, "he is centuries older than you."

Bryant nodded, "but he is still a boy by the standards of his people, whereas I am finally considered something of a man by the standards of mine. I think it has been at least thirty years since we set out together upon the Road."

Erian snorted, "considering that time is of no matter to you and that you no longer age, I think your conjecture quite ill founded."

Bryant laughed with his friend but before he could mount, found that Jonin standing beside him. These sudden appearances and disappearances of friends, the shifting of surroundings, and the erratic movements of time no longer confused or even surprised him; it was simply a normal part of the world in which he lived. They greeted one another warmly, Erian nodded regally to Sebiki, who yawned lazily in return. Bryant asked, "now what trouble have you come to embroil me in or rescue me from?"

Jonin smiled at his jest but soon sobered as he said, "your adventurer may be in for more than he bargained for. The Enemy is quite determined that none of his race should enter service with the Messengers and is setting his minions upon the Road to ensure that it does not happen. There are worse than Dreadlords upon the Road. You must ride escort without letting him know that you do so. Keep the fell servants of the Enemy from him but leave him in peace to succeed or fail at the tasks set before him. I am off to ward the boy's friend and the Wanderer he has taken up with, for the Enemy is even more opposed to him learning what he must and returning to his people. Farewell." Bryant exchanged a startled look with Erian and took hard to the Road after the elf.

They easily caught the elven lad, who saw them not for the speed of their travel. They cleared many servants of the Enemy from the Road that night, but they would come again and there were certainly others of a more insidious nature they had failed to discover even with the keen sight granted them in such matters. The Road cleared ahead and behind, the ever watchful pair shadowed the boy for several days as he rode and as he slept, to see that no fell thing came upon him not native to the Road, for they would not and could not interfere in that testing. He must succeed or fail as he would but they would not let the Enemy aide in the latter. Erian could pass easily through the tangled wood along the Road, for the brush hindered him as little as walls his rider if he put his mind to it. This offered ample cover that they might watch for ambush or a trap yet did not allow the elf to know of their presence. The boy had faced and overcome several challenges in the ensuing days and now slept soundly while his hidden guardians warded his rest.

A sudden movement or perhaps a shifting shadow or a light where none should have been suddenly alerted Bryant to a new threat upon the boy's safety. Mortal eyes could never have seen such a thing and even his had difficulty in seeing the creatures though he knew them there. The Grimok was perhaps the most devious and deadly of the servants of the Enemy. Their strange hide reflected all light or perhaps it bent around them, but one way or another they could not be seen, merely sensed by those so able. They were very able assassins and the Enemy used them when all other means failed. Whatever their true form, it was known they carried a deadly venom that rendered its victim dead within seconds and there was no known antidote nor could one be administered in the time before death ensued.

Bryant slid from Erian's back, sword bared. He struck blindly but felt his blade strike flesh. Even the screams of the creatures could not be heard. First one, then the other thudded heavily to the ground and then even the corpse somehow dissolved or vanished leaving no trace the things had ever been. Allimer shifted uneasily in his sleep but did not waken or even know he had been in terrible danger. A sudden pain flared in Bryant's shoulder, as if he had been clipped by an arrow; a small patch of red upon his tunic betrayed the fact. A sudden weakness overwhelmed him, as if he tried to uphold the whole earth upon his shoulders, but he scanned the area, looking for the source of the fell shaft. He caught sight of a fleeing form and gave chase but Bryant felt as if he were trying to run through thick mud.

A Dreadlord stood upon the Road, as if waiting for his pursuer to catch up. "So it is again," laughed the Dreadlord, "turn for turn, we are equal." Bryant gave him a dumbfounded look, half out of exhaustion and half from confusion. The Dreadlord scowled, "know you not the face of your foe? It is Ephod you fool! As you did to me I now do to you and so do I abandon you to the mercies of your friend's kin!" Bryant could hardly comprehend what the fiend was talking about but knew he could not allow the fell minion to linger so close to the boy. With his failing strength, he drove his sword into the Dreadlord's chest and collapsed as darkness took him; only as he fell into darkness did he fully realize what that small spot of blood portended, for the Messengers did not bleed.

Allimer awoke with the sun and the impertinent singing of birds who would not allow weary pilgrims to sleep any longer. He made a breakfast with what his saddlebags held, refreshed himself from his waterskin, mounted, and took to the Road, but hardly had he left the little clearing where he had sought shelter for the night than his horse nearly stumbled over a prone form lying in the Road. Fearing some trap, but unable to leave a body in the Road, Allimer dismounted to investigate. He gently turned the man over and gasped; it was the stranger from the inn who had set him on this insane journey. He looked the man over but found no injury, save a very shallow graze on his left shoulder. The man's sword lay nearby, as if he had had need of it but had blacked out in mid-strike. A ragged sorrel gelding stood not far off and looked at the elf with dull eyes. Allimer went to his own horse, fetched his waterskin, and splashed a few drops on the man's face. His closed eyes blinked at the insult and he raised a hand to ward of the offending drops. He sat up slowly, looked about him, and flinched to see Allimer leaning over him. He looked equally surprised to see his sword nearby.

Allimer smiled cheerfully and said, "what happened? I thought I was alone upon this strange path, save for the bizarre folk sent to test me. Are you also a test?"

Bryant rose slowly to his feet and thoroughly inspected himself, finding only the scrape on his shoulder as witness to the events of the previous night. Gingerly he reached for his sword, as if he thought it might vanish or bite, but it was quite firm in his hand and he replaced it in its scabbard. He looked at the horse that stood nearby and Erian winked at him. He smiled quietly in thanks that he was not alone in his encore with mortality. Bryant then faced the boy and said, "occasionally strangers or old friends meet upon the Road. I happened to be upon it and encountered a fell villain near the place you were sleeping and was able to destroy him but I fear the encounter was too much for me it, for no sooner had I struck than I fell unconscious as you just found me."

Allimer said, "would it please you to travel together for a time? Is such allowed on this odd journey?"

Bryant looked plaintively at Erian, not quite sure if such was allowed but the stallion nodded minutely. Mortal or not, they still had their duty to do in protecting the boy from the fell servants of the Enemy. Bryant said, "most travel alone, but for a time some are allowed company upon the way, but if a parting comes you must not let it slow you or cause you to veer from the Road. I will travel willingly with you if you promise not to hinder your journey for my sake should the time of parting come, no matter if it cost me my life."

Allimer eyed him strangely but nodded saying, "it will be pleasant to have such a companion though I fear your terms will one day try my heart sorely. I will do as you say. Is this another test to see that my heart is true?"

Bryant said, "I am not sure what part I shall play in your journey but I will do what I can to see that you travel free from the treachery of the Dark One. I cannot help you in the traps laid before you but perhaps I can keep you from unnecessary danger. You must still complete the journey successfully and alone."

The boy shook his head and said, "you are a very strange man indeed, but I welcome your company for as long as I have it. Come, the day wastes."

They both found their respective mounts and were soon on their way. As they traveled, the boy spoke of his life and his people and of many tales of the Fairyfolk. He asked Bryant also of his life and people. Bryant simply said, "I was once the son of a King but fled in dishonor and returned after finding the True King, only to be laughed at by all my folk. I have wandered the world since, doing what I can in service to my Lord and leaving others to tell my confused people of the ways of the King."

Allimer laughed, "to think we are both exiled royalty!"

Bryant smiled sadly, "at least you left willingly. I was driven away for my foolishness and pride."

The conversation was cut short as Allimer drew rein and looked about him in amazement, "such trees as these are certainly found only deep in the Fairywood! I ride unknowingly through my own country yet I have never seen such a Road in such a place before and I know well all the forests of that land."

Bryant said quietly, "the Road lies not in one place but wanders where it will and must, that each heart upon it might be found true or not. No man can map it and its course is never the same but it will ever lead you true."

Allimer shook his head in wonder but they continued on their way in silence, before the prince spoke saying, "this is no kind place to mortal men. You are either a fool or have more courage than sense to press on with me so."

Bryant said quietly, "I will go where I must. I know well the dangers of this place for one such as I. Remember your promise if things go ill. Ware!" Erian reared and screamed a challenge, looking little like the placid gelding he seemed.

A Dreadlord and a dozen Soldiers rode swiftly towards them. The man and the elf both had their swords bared; Bryant wondered if his blade was mortal like himself or still a blade able to destroy the Enemy's servants. In the seconds before battle was met Bryant yelled, "your blade is of elvish make?" The elf nodded. Bryant continued, "good, then it will be of some effect against these fiends. Block their blows as you may but no wound of yours will subdue such foes unless you sever the head from the body. Nothing else will even slow them."

The boy nodded grimly and set himself for battle. Erian and Bryant followed suit. No mortal horse would stand in the presence of a Dreadlord and his fell minions, but the horses of the elves were not like the foolish horses of men and trusted their masters such that they would not flee even in the presence of such a fiend. All Dreadlords looked the same but Bryant somehow knew this one to be Ephod. After his failure as a Spy he had somehow been assigned another role in the service of his fell master. He came for Bryant and left the Soldiers to finish off the elf. Bryant felt the fear and hatred that emanated from his late friend but he would not give in to the quailing of his now mortal flesh. Ephod mocked, "not afraid I see, but I will not give thee death but shall lock you away forever in the darkness, for so it was you left me." Bryant sighed, saw that the prince would shortly be overwhelmed, and knew he must deal with the Dreadlord quickly. His only concern was that his blade would do nothing against such a foe but there was no way to tell but to try.

He had no need to spur Erian forward for the Pegassi knew well his intention and they were nearly atop the Dreadlord when Bryant buried his sword in Ephod's chest. The Dreadlord had been so absorbed in his mocking that he failed to block the oncoming stroke and was swiftly defeated. Bryant smiled to know he was not completely helpless in the fight. Erian turned that they might help Allimer but the boy had found allies of a curious nature and the ranks of the Soldiers were quickly decimated. Their last foe finally fell and Allimer put up his blade but not so his allies. He said brightly to his kin, "I thank you for your aide in thwarting these sinister foes but why have you not put away your swords?"

The captain of the small company of elves said, "we cannot abide servants of the Dark One in our own forests, let alone assaulting our beloved prince, thus we came to your aide but neither can we abide mortal men trespassing likewise."

Allimer scowled, "this man rides under my protection and we are on a journey for which my father has given his permission. Hinder us no further!"

The captain sighed, "I am sorry my prince, but I advise you to abandon this folly and return to your father immediately for there are fell things abroad. These are not the first such we have encountered. You may continue on your way in peace but nowise can we let this man pass. If you wish such a companion you must plead with your father on his behalf."

Allimer's eyes were wide with horror and confusion. He dared not leave Bryant in the hands of his people but neither could he leave the Road. Bryant solved the dilemma for him, but not in a way in which he could ride away without feeling some measure of shame, but so had he promised. Bryant sheathed his sword, removed his swordbelt, and handed it to Allimer saying, "I give this into your keeping, for I shall have need of it should we meet again but you must not touch the hilt or remove it from its sheath. Touch only the scabbard."

Allimer gasped, "you cannot mean to go with them?"

Bryant shook his head and said, "what choice do they leave us? Ride on for you must. More sorrow will come if you fail than if I allow myself to be so captured. Be vigilant for more of the Enemy's minions, firm in your purpose, and you will come to your destination. Fear not, for we shall meet again one day if we both remain true."

Allimer took the blade and looked at it sadly and then looked to its former keeper saying, "I shall do as you say though it tries my heart sorely."

Bryant smiled sadly, "this shall not be the first nor the last time such a feeling shall rend your heart in two, but it is the price of the service you seek. Farewell!"

Bryant allowed himself to be taken into custody, the captain eyed the prince strangely but made no move towards him, and then the whole company vanished into the Fairywood leaving Allimer to stare at the blade that was perhaps the only memory he would have of his strange friend whose name he did not even know. He secured the blade in his luggage, turned his horse, and rode into the growing evening with a heavy heart.

Bryant's hands were bound and another held Erian's reins, which vexed the Pegassi greatly. They traveled deep into the forest and rode for most of the night. Bryant found himself nodding in the saddle when they finally rode through the gates of a great city and the clatter of hooves on cobblestones fully roused him. He gazed around curiously at the strangeness of the architecture to his human eyes. No one was abroad at this time of night so the journey through the winding streets of the city was swift. The guards upon the castle gates let them pass unheeded. In the courtyard, Bryant was told to slide from his saddle. The moment he complied, Erian reared and screamed, pulling loose his reins and vanished out the open gate ere they could catch him. They looked at the gate out which the horse had fled, but caring little for the creature they escorted the captive into the palace that he might stand before the king. The king was roused though not happy for the disturbance of his sleep; he was deeply curious as to why a man was traveling with his son.

"Why were you keeping company with my son and where is he bound that he cannot even turn aside to speak with his father?" demanded the king once he was regally clad and seated upon his throne in the great hall.

Bryant's guards forced him to his knees before the king and he said, "sire, he found me unconscious upon the road this morning and asked if I might join his party. I agreed to accompany him for a time if it did not hinder the errand upon which he rides. I once gave him some advice when he traveled in the lands of men and he knew me for a friend. Where that road shall take him, none knows until he reaches its end."

The king sighed, "you are a rather dull prisoner. Perhaps some time in the dungeons shall loosen your tongue." He said something in his own language, which Bryant smiled to know he could still understand, the translation of which was 'give him the usual treatment.' A guard cuffed him across the base of the skull with a gauntleted hand and he fell again into darkness.

Bryant awoke not long after to find himself alone in a dank cell; the guard outside stared in mercilessly but seeing the prisoner awake, wandered out of sight for the time to attend to other tasks. The man looked about the cell, seeking some means of escape and could not believe his eyes to see hope so obvious. Upon a nail high upon one wall within the cell hung a key that looked as if it might open the cell door. What nonsense was this? If it were some trap he had best spring it, for the longer he rotted in this cell the more chance the Enemy had of assailing the prince upon his journey. He took the key and easily opened the door but was soon set upon by several guards lingering just around the corner. They bound his hands cruelly and taking his shoulders drug him back before the king.

Again in a forced crouch, Bryant faced the king, who said in amazement, "how is it you come to find the key so quickly?"

Bryant gave him an odd look, "who hangs a key in plain sight within the very cell it opens?"

The king scoffed, "no mortal eye can see that key. Some molder years in that cell before chance brings the key within their grasp and even then some do not believe it, though they can feel its weight in their hands. It is quite an amusing diversion with such prisoners." The king looked more closely at his prisoner and gazed deeply into those unflinching eyes and said, "yours are not the eyes of a mortal man." He drew the gilded dagger from his belt and slashed it across Bryant's cheek, drawing forth a thin line of blood; he laughed, "but your flesh is certainly mortal. I can send you to a swift end or perhaps you are more deserving of a lingering death?" Bryant did not even blink at such a pronouncement, his only concern was getting back to Allimer and doing his best to keep him out of the Enemy's clutches. The king noticed his lack of care and snarled, "or perhaps I can throw you into the deepest dungeon I possess and leave you to rot for all of your natural life! Who or what are you? What have you to do with my son? What foolish quest has the boy embroiled himself in?"

Bryant said firmly, "whatever your decision, make it quickly whether to kill me or set me free. I am entrusted with protecting your son from the minions of the Enemy who assail the Road upon which he travels. The longer I linger here the less chance has he of completing his task. Such foes will surely kill him or worse, take him to their dark prison at the gates into the Infernal Realms and there he shall know torment indeed! Locking me away will avail you nothing, save perhaps to have some small part in your son's demise, for then I cannot aide him."

The king laughed scornfully, "and why would I seek your aide in this matter?"

Bryant said quietly but with an edge like a knife, "mortal I may be, but I will protect your son with all that is within me, even if cost me my life. I am a servant of the King and it was he that sent me to protect your son."

The king said, "I do not wish my son to be involved with your King."

Bryant said, "the choice is his to make and he is set on this course unless the Enemy has his way. He is determined that the boy not reach the end of the Road upon which he travels. Would you rather have the boy in the service of the True King or rather dead or a prisoner of the Evil One? Holding me only aides the latter."

The king snarled, "we escaped to this place that we might be left in peace by both your King and your Enemy but both seem intent on disturbing our rest."

Bryant said, "the world is the King's and he may do with it and its occupants as he pleases. The Enemy cares little for anyone's laws, even those of the King. The Grey Lands are disputed territory and the war is bound to spill over into all lands no matter how reluctant and all must choose a side."

The king sighed, "I wish no part in this little war of yours. I wish even less to see my son in the hands of the Enemy. But neither can I loose you, for mortal men are not allowed to roam our lands alone. If there is one of my subjects who would agree to accompany you I will allow your release, else you will rot in a cell until I have other need of it and have you executed." He then spoke loudly to the gathered crowd of Fairyfolk that had come to witness the spectacle, "will anyone here risk my wrath should this mortal misbehave, to save his life and see him safely to our borders?"

There was much mumbling and scoffing but no one stood forth until a voice in the back of the crowd said, "I will bear him thus." The king looked up in surprise and there were many murmurs of amazement and awe as all saw who it was that had spoken. Many of that folk remembered the Pegassi from the time before their exodus across the River and had not seen one since; that one stood among them was a miracle indeed.

Erian came forth to claim his errant rider and the king said in astonishment, "you will willingly bear such a pathetic creature and risk my wrath to do so? Know you not that any trouble he causes will be upon your own head."

Erian snorted, "he will behave himself I think. Once I would have baulked at such a burden but now I bear it joyfully."

The king asked, "how is it that one of your noble race is come across the River? Have you indeed seen the folly of your ways and rebelled against the King? We see your kind but seldom and then always in the company of men."

Erian said, "I once rebelled against my King but know now the folly of such thinking. I am again in his service. My people do not cross the River of their own accord. We are either banished or leave willingly to aide the King's Messengers."

The king scoffed, "how is it then you are alone and willing to carry a mere mortal? The Messengers have moved beyond mortality, for my people cannot capture or accost them, thus we leave them in peace that they might return the favor."

Erian snorted, "know you not that you have finally captured one of these legendary creatures? You have commented upon his strangeness yourself."

The king laughed, "if he is a Messenger then the power of the King is truly waning."

Erian said, "he is indeed of that calling though a fell weapon of the Enemy has rendered him thus even as he protected your son while he slept. He has tasted of the River and that cannot be taken from him even though he again walks among the living. He has been my faithful friend and companion for many years and I will bear him still though you consider it beneath my dignity."

"Very well," said the king, "I shall forgive you this lecture and grant him to your keeping but if he strays from your sight within our bounds his life is forfeit."

Erian nodded, as did the king, and the guards cut the ropes binding Bryant's hands. He stood and threw his arms around the arching neck of his friend and whispered quietly, "thank you my friend."

Erian snorted, "we have our duty to be about and I certainly cannot do this alone."

Bryant laughed, "as long as this was done entirely for the purpose at hand then we had best be about it." He swung easily onto the stallion's back, much to the agitation of all those gathered who thought it quite presumptuous and degrading.

The king said, "protect well my son on whatever fell quest he is about." Bryant nodded grimly and Erian fled with all the speed he possessed.

Soon they were upon the Road and seeking once more the wandering boy. Erian said, "I shadowed the boy last night and saw that he was well defended by the roving bands of warriors the elven king has set to watch for the minions of evil. He has encountered many of his people who have begged, bribed, pleaded, sneered, boasted, and otherwise tempted him to abandon his course but he has stayed true. My hope is that we shall arrive before he leaves the relative safety of his homeland. How fare you my dear mortal?"

Bryant laughed, "glad indeed to be free of my captors and to know we have not yet failed in our duty. Besides for the tedious constraints of mortality I feel quite myself." Erian looked at him curiously and Bryant expounded, "I have forgotten what it is to need sleep and nourishment on a regular basis!"

Erian shook his head in amusement, "if that is the worst you suffer then you have nothing to complain about." Bryant laughed at his friend's amusement but sobered as he truly pondered the thought.

It was not long before they came upon the boy who pushed steadily onward. He heard their approach and turned his horse suddenly with sword bared and nearly dropped it in surprise and relief to see the intruders. He gasped, "how is it you are free of my father?"

Bryant shook his head, "the hospitality of your people is certainly lacking but I pressed upon him the necessity of my quest and he was lenient."

The elf laughed, "a thing seldom done in all the history of our people! It is good to have you back, for I fear I will need your sword before long as we are leaving the lands held by my people and entering a land strange to me." He proffered Bryant's sword and he gratefully replaced the weapon.

As they rode on, Allimer spoke of the encounters he had had with his people and how they had pleaded with him to stay, how they had scoffed and sneered at him, how a beautiful girl of his acquaintance had promised to marry him if only he would remain, and even some of his brothers had promised to have the king disown him if he did not turn around. He then asked, "how long is this journey?"

Bryant laughed, "as long as it must be."

Allimer said, "why do you only speak in riddles? Why do I feel there is a whole world about me that I cannot sense or see?"

Bryant said quietly, "perhaps there is. In deciding to follow the King you have taken your first steps upon the path whose end is a world more strange and beautiful than any this side of the River can imagine and much happens in the war between the King and his Enemy that we in our fallen state fail to recognize. It is a whole new world my friend, and one more real than we can even begin to imagine."

As they rode, Bryant wondered at the difference in the things sent to test the elf and that which he himself had faced so long ago. Then he began to consider that the elf could probably see the false face of the witch, the goblins, and all the other things that had pretended to be something they were not, such a façade would not fool the elf as it did mortal men, but the ties to his people would be hard to sunder but so far the boy had succeeded. Bryant wondered how Jonin was getting on with Warde and the boy's friend. Suddenly Bryant noticed the land around him and his heart sank, they were nearing the goblin village. He said to his companion, "whatever happens next, you must press on. There are horrors ahead."

Allimer eyed him nervously but pressed his horse into a trot, as he topped the hill he looked with horror upon a teeming swarm of goblins running up the downward side intent on murder. "Ride!" shouted Bryant as Erian dove into the midst of the horde and lashed out with teeth and hooves while his rider struck with his sword. Allimer wasted no time and laid his heels to the horse's flanks and the beast was only too willing to run. The goblins were surprised by the sudden flight of the one and distracted by the rampage of the other. Allimer managed to slip through and escape their grasp but Erian and Bryant found themselves greatly outnumbered. Erian had little to fear, but Bryant would face a hideous death at their hands if captured. Seeing Allimer free, they fought their way out of the horde and gave chase; thankfully the fiends though riled, had no way to catch a fleeing horse. Bryant was breathing hard and swaying in his saddle when he caught up with Allimer, who was delighted to see the crazy man alive. Who willingly risked such for a stranger?

Bryant refused to stop until well clear of the goblins and then allowed his wounds to be inspected and tended to. Allimer carried some elf balm that took away most of the pain and seemed nearly to heal the wounds. "Thank you," said Bryant quietly.

Allimer laughed, "if you are determined to get yourself killed on my behalf the least I can do is aide in healing you. You look faint. Are you well?"

Bryant said weakly, "I have not eaten since before you found me upon the Road. I suppose I am faint with hunger."

The truth was he had had little chance to eat and he had almost forgotten that in mortal form he yet had need of such. They ate a little and rested before pressing on. It was growing dark but the moon was full giving ample light and they had no wish to linger when the servants of the Enemy might be near. The sooner they reached the River the better. It was late in the night when they finally made camp. Allimer took the first watch though he knew not that Erian could easily have done that while he slept. Bryant tried to argue but was so worn with recent events that he nearly collapsed in dismounting and Allimer insisted he go straight to bed. Allimer was drifting to sleep at his post when Erian whinnied in alarm. Bryant was on his feet in a moment, sword bared. A stranger walked into their camp. He glanced at the man, dismissing him and then eyed the elf with a vicious light in his eyes saying, "well met my fine sir. Why have you taken up with this useless wanderer? The quest you have set yourself is a noble one and perhaps I can be of more use than he."

Allimer said curiously, "and who might you be sir?"

The man said, "I am one of the King's Messengers sent to aide those who wander upon this Road and bring them safely to its end; most especially I protect such noble pilgrims from the likes of charlatans and tricksters as your companion here certainly seems to me."

Allimer eyed him suspiciously, "is this again a trick that I might lose my way and all my hope? This man has been a faithful companion and true friend all the weary way."

The stranger said, "but has he? Has he not spoken in riddles and half truths and has he not acted strangely? Does he not have a clouded past and mysterious future? How is it he so easily escaped your father? How came he to lie fortuitously in the Road for you to find and take pity upon? Why has he not told you all?"

Allimer said, "his answers have contented me and I have sensed no falseness in him. Can you prove yourself to be what you say?"

Bryant watched carefully lest the Spy try something sinister against the boy but he would not interfere in what seemed another test of the lad's resolve. The Spy said, "pierce me with your blade and see if it kills me, for are not the Messengers blessed with unending life?"

The boy was wide-eyed and looked to Bryant who said, "do what you feel you must."

The boy did as the Spy asked and was astonished to see him flinch slightly in pain but otherwise he took no harm. Allimer sheathed his blade and said, "all you have proved is that you cannot be killed by common means, which might be a trait of the Messengers but I know it also a trait of the servants of evil. Have you no other proof?"

The man said, "what does your heart tell you? Do you trust me or this hooligan and recluse who has certainly deceived you for reasons of his own?"

Allimer said quietly, "I do not like the feeling of you sir and I think you twist the truth to fit your own purposes. I will continue on with my friend."

The man screeched like some awful bird and said, "you shall continue with me or die!" Bryant leapt upon the boy and pushed him to the ground as a gout of flame engulfed the place where he had stood. "You dare interfere with me fool?" scowled the enraged Spy, "you shall learn the folly of your ways." He raised his hand to cast another foul spell but Bryant gave him no chance and ran him through with his sword. The man dissolved into a black mist that quickly faded away.

Allimer stood and said, "I thank you for your aide, but the man's words make me wonder more of you, my curious companion."

Bryant said, "since we are both awake, let us take to the Road again, the sooner to end this journey. I have told you that which I can, more must wait until a later time. If you no longer trust me by all means send me away and I shall trouble you no longer."

The boy laughed, "you have saved my life times beyond count and I will not treat you so ill just because I am impatient. I am content to learn more when the proper time is come."

They mounted and were soon upon the Road. The final leg of their journey was much as Bryant remembered it: desolate, wearisome, and full of deprivation. The elf had a stronger constitution than his human companion and the way was much longer as a result. Allimer eyed Bryant with worry as their water and food failed but Bryant refused to slow their pace even though he swayed in his saddle. Allimer's horse was stumbling with weariness and thirst but Erian was little affected. Finally a morning came when Bryant fell from his saddle and could not rise. Allimer was about to rush to his side when the shriek of a griffin broke the silence. He landed and eyed the two bipeds as if they were mice. He said, "it is time for you to tread this path alone. I will see to your companion."

Allimer said, "I cannot leave him so!"

The griffin shook his great head and said, "think you that I would not have killed you both already had I the will? You have a journey to finish and your friend can go on no longer, neither are you allowed company on the final leg of your journey. Finish that which you have begun or go home!" Allimer nodded, mounted his terrified and weary horse, and continued on his way. The griffin took up the unconscious form and was soon aloft with Erian following protectively after.

The griffin easily followed the course of the Road, overtaking and passing Allimer unseen. The boy had a few last trials to pass before the end of his journey. The griffin and Erian watched closely that no traps of the Enemy lay in wait. The way seemed safe and they alighted beside the River. The griffin said grimly, "his life is failing but the River can restore him. He will know what he must accomplish here when he wakens. I shall attend to the boy's path and see that none come upon him unawares. Farewell." Erian whinnied his thanks, nudged gently at Bryant, but received no response. With no hands to bring water to the man, Erian brought the man to the River. He took the man's collar in his teeth and drug him the short distance to the water that flowed swift and clear. Erian plunged the man in and suddenly he came awake, spluttering in the cold and wet. He crawled to shore and lay breathing heavily for a moment and then looked to the amused Erian though concern was writ deep in his eyes. The Pegassi told what he knew. Bryant sat up slowly and pulled himself to drier ground. He shivered and Erian lay down beside him, draping a great wing over him to shield him from the bitter wind.

"What is it you must do here?" asked the Pegassi.

Bryant said, "one of the Messengers must be here when the boy finishes his journey and that duty has fallen to me."

Erian turned his head and looked at his friend askance, "but you are still mortal!"

Bryant snorted a laugh, "and yet my duty remains. If you weary of me as a burden you can cross the River."

Erian made a strangled sound at the suggestion and said, "what nonsense is this? You may be heavier than normal but I will not so easily abandon you." Bryant smiled his thanks and fell into a deep sleep, warded by his faithful friend.

Morning was come when Erian nudged Bryant awake. He stood weakly and worked the cramps from his limbs. Just then Allimer came riding over the hill and looked with wonder at the great rent that was the Rift; then he looked with even more surprise upon the disheveled man that stood beside it. He slid from his horse and ran to embrace his chronically vanishing friend saying, "I feared you dead of exertion! What has come to pass? Am I finally come to the end of the journey?" He looked across the Rift at the glorious mountains and rolling hills of the Brightlands and asked, "is this truly the place where the Master dwells? How pleasant the hills to my eyes!"

Bryant said, "you have survived the Road and have come to its ending. The choice is now before you to cross the River and enter those fair lands or to continue on in this weary mortal sphere in service to your King, but in so doing you sever all ties that bind you to the Grey Lands."

Allimer said, "ah to set foot upon such beautiful soil, but I have come for a purpose and that pleasure must wait. But you have yet to tell me your tale."

Bryant smiled weakly and said, "there is not much to tell. The griffin brought me here and the River restored what strength I have. Now what of you?"

The boy practically glowed, "I also would taste of this River but where does it flow?"

Bryant smiled broadly and said, "look again upon the Rift with eyes newly opened." The boy did look and smiled for joy. Bryant said, "now if you are firm in your desire, taste of its water and plunge beneath its flow. But remember that sorrow, pain, and toil will haunt your labors if you choose this path."

The boy nodded firmly and said, "I desire nothing else." He promptly complied with Bryant's words and found life anew. He found himself completely changed but his companion still stood a weary man in worn clothes.

He could now see Erian for what he truly was and a gasp of awe escaped his lips. A similar beast stood on the far side of the River, reared and screamed his joy, and easily leapt the flow to meet his new companion on the far side. The two were lost in greeting for a time while Bryant looked wistfully on. Erian nuzzled him companionably. Once the two had been properly introduced, Allimer happened to glance down at himself and finally noticed that his garb was as changed as he was. He turned with a puzzled expression to Bryant and asked, "who or what are you?"

Bryant laughed, "by now you have probably guessed that I have some affinity with the Messengers, but what I am sure you can hardly guess. My mind, my sword, and my mount are all as they should be but my body is mortal once more. When death takes me I shall be as you, but until then I am bound by all the constraints of mortality. The Enemy possesses a fell weapon with such strange capabilities." With that he expounded his full tale and answered all the questions yet buzzing in the boy's mind. He also told of many things that would aide him on his quest but there was too much to impart and some of it would have to come by experience.

The boy sat heavily upon the grass, seeming to feel the full weight placed upon his shoulders. Bryant laughed, "come lad, you have too much to learn to sit there and let the world pass you by. Besides, weariness is no longer a physical concern."

Allimer laughed and stood, asking, "what shall we be about now?"

Bryant said, "you need to learn a few things ere I turn you loose, but much of it you have seen already having encountered Dreadlords, Spies, and Soldiers upon the Road. Listen to your own heart and the advice of your companion and you shall do very well. If ever you weary of this life, simply cross the River and find peace but know you cannot cross it again until the Last Day once you do. The Enemy may still try to turn your heart from the King and if he succeeds, you can never go back to Him; you will be forever lost to us. Come, it is time to try your hand at fighting some of our foes."

Bryant's blade was out and he had swung onto Erian's back as he spoke, for a Dreadlord and six Soldiers were upon them. Allimer wasted no time in following Bryant's lead and soon was consumed in a battle with the Soldiers. Bryant tried to fend off the Dreadlord, but it was relentless in its pursuit. It scoffed, "this time you will not succeed. You may have won your foolish elf but he is of little consequence. He may even barter his soul to spare you the torment that awaits whence I shall bear you."

Bryant sighed heavily, "Ephod, can you not refrain from such evil? What have you against me?"

Ephod laughed, "I have everything against you. The only reason my master spared me the abyss after my last failure was for you! He thought it a great delight to torment you thus, as do I!" Whatever strange power the Dreadlords had to induce unwilling sleep he now laid upon Bryant who again lapsed into darkness as he had so long ago. Erian screamed but could do little against the fell thing that took a firm hold upon Bryant and swiftly bore him away.

Allimer was just finishing with the last of the Soldiers when he heard Erian's heart-wrenching cry. He too saw what the fiend intended and made to ride after but Erian blocked his way, saying, "this matter is beyond both of us. We must do our duty no matter how it pains us and trust Bryant to the King's mercy. You know already that which you must do and if you refuse or follow another path you will have forsaken your King and all for which you once fought."

Allimer nodded grimly and said, "I will trust our Master and know in the end that all will be set aright. I must return to my father and people and tell that which I have seen."

Erian said, "remember Bryant's words, trust the Spirit within you, trust my kinsman, and you shall not fail. Farewell." Erian took swiftly to the Road and vanished from sight, off on errands known only to himself and the King. Allimer's own mount turned towards the Fairywood and their looming quest.

Bryant awoke with a throbbing head in the absolute dark. He could see nothing, but the cell felt damp, small, and stank of must, mold, and other unnamable thing. He heard a slight shifting to his left and asked, "who is there?"

He heard a weary laugh and a grizzled voice said, "awake are you? It would have been better had you died in your sleep."

"Where am I and who are you?" asked Bryant.

The man said, "I am called Locke, or at least I was in brighter places where people still have names. In here we are less than rats; at least the rats are free. You are in the deepest, darkest dungeon in the great prison on the borders of the Infernal Realm. Congratulations, because few are despised enough by our jailers to ever descend so far. What did you do to incur such wrath on their part?"

Bryant said, "a man I once called friend found himself a Dreadlord and felt inclined to take vengeance as he saw it. What of you?"

The man said, "I am nothing half so interesting. I was a Wanderer in my day and I think they simply needed the room up above, for they moved me down here and I think they have forgotten about me."

"What do we face in this place?" asked Bryant.

The man shrugged though none could see, "some are killed outright, others are tortured until they die or turn to the enemy, others are left in some dark corner to rot, which I think shall be our fate. I have been here many days and nothing ever changes except that occasionally they remember we will not long survive without food and water."

Bryant said, "that seems kind of an anticlimactic ending. Am I to rot in this place for a hundred years?"

The Wanderer laughed, "unless they decide to kill you sooner or your health fails you, I suppose that you must."

Bryant laughed, "who would ever think to welcome death?"

The Wanderer smiled, "those who serve the King do, for a brighter country awaits us thence. Only such a promise and the strength the King has leant me keeps me sane in such a place! But then they kill those who go mad, for there is no sense in tormenting one who is beyond reason."

Suddenly pain erupted in their eyes as the door was flung open and light blinded them. Strong arms grabbed Bryant and drug him out into the painful though dim glare of torches. Ephod stood over him and scorned him, "that is what you have to look forward to for what remains of your natural life, save when they bring you out for a sound beating or some other little amusement. I have left careful orders that you are not to be killed so they will take the utmost care to see you live out your natural life. Your only consolation will be in that I may one day have a better use for the arrow and then I shall have you killed out of necessity. Of course you could bow before my master and spare yourself the agony."

Bryant glowered, "do what you think you must but let us speak no more of my turning against the King."

Ephod laughed, "a nice sentiment but we shall see how you fare after twenty years of such treatment." They drug him away, wounded him in various ways, and then cast him back into the cell, but first they took out the Wanderer and had him put to death for the simple reason that they wanted the fool to have not even the consolation of a companion in chains. There they left him alone in the dark to recover as he would from his wounds but they had overestimated his strength. After his journey, especially the last leg his strength had waned. The River had restored some of his vigor but the Dreadlord's fell magic had sapped even that. He lay alone in the dark, lost in a delirium of fever.

They threw him food as they might a despised dog and occasionally remembered that he needed water as well, but Bryant was aware of none of these small amenities and was utterly lost to the dark. The Soldiers that tended the prisoner thought little of the untouched water and food save that they did not have to replace it. The Spy that oversaw this forsaken level of the prison noticed this one day and demanded that the prisoner be brought forth; he did not wish to face the Dreadlord's wrath should the fool man die prematurely. The man was lugged out and at first all thought him dead, for so tragic was his state, but a feeble effort at breathing was finally observed. Life hung on but barely; knowing the peculiar state of this particular prisoner the Spy ordered him out of the prison.

If the man should die, the Spy might find himself with a Messenger loose in his prison and that was an infamy he dared not face his master with. Better to face the wrath of the Dreadlord than their vile master. The Soldiers did as they were bidden and drug the moribund man to the verge of the desolate road that ran through those forsaken lands and there they left him to the whims of the scavengers and the weather, to die as he would. Day was hardly a faint glimmer of pale light in those lands and evening was fast approaching as the Soldiers abandoned the seeming corpse and scuttled back to their posts. A furtive figure watched from the cover of some stark boulders until the fiends were well out of sight and then crept towards the prone form. The figure glanced around nervously, but seeing no one, knelt beside the dying man. She laid a hand to his cheek but it was cold as death. A single tear of pity glimmered in her eyes.

She gently raised his head and placed a small drop of some fragrant liquid upon his parched tongue, which in those wasted lands seemed a whole garden of flowers. His eyes fluttered open and he looked upon the piteous face of an elf maiden on the brink of tears. Suddenly there was the rush of hooves, a startled shriek, and the evil laugh that Bryant knew belonged to none but Ephod. The Dreadlord had been watching the dying man and at the proper moment, had pounced upon the distracted girl, sweeping her into the saddle of his fell beast and riding like the wind to the lands of her father the elf king. Bryant's head fell to the ground as she was borne away, for he had not the strength to hold it aloft; bitter tears stung his eyes to think what plots might now engulf that poor creature.

"Are you just going to lie there?" came a familiar voice. For the first time in what seemed decades, a smile crossed Bryant's face as hope stirred within him. With all his might he strained and finally rolled himself onto his belly. Erian towered over him with concern large in his eyes.

Bryant tried to speak and finally a sound came, as if the echo of some weak wind whistling through caverns deep within the earth, "I cannot stand." Erian nodded grimly, lay down beside his prone friend, and patiently waited while the man laboriously pulled himself onto the great back.

He turned gentle eyes upon his rider and said, "can you hang on?"

Bryant tried to laugh but only provoked a cough but croaked, "yes."

Erian nodded and set off at the fastest pace that his stricken rider could manage. The elf's liquor had saved him from the brink of death but he was yet hardly fit to be considered alive. He prayed desperately that they reach the girl before some ill fate befell her and all her people. They trotted on but Ephod had a terrible lead and at this rate would be well finished with his plot ere they arrived. Bryant wondered what he could do about the situation when they reached their destination. He could do little but cling desperately to the back of his friend. Things would be far easier if he had been allowed simply to die but that time had not yet come so he clung on and prayed, for it was all he had strength left to do.

Erian stopped briefly some hours into their flight to allow Bryant to drink from the first stream they had come upon, but both grudged even those few minutes until they were moving once more. Bryant lapsed in and out of a restless sleep. For days they rode on, only stopping occasionally to quench Bryant's thirst but there was nothing to sate his hunger. Gradually a little strength returned and he was able to at least sit upright as he rode rather than cling like a frightened cat to Erian's great back. Only then did he notice that he had no weapons about him for somewhere his sword had been lost or confiscated. He laughed weakly, this fight was sure to be a short one but they could not abandon the chase for so pithy a reason as that. If they did not go who would? On they rode until finally the elf country rolled on before them in endless miles of wild forest. Hardly had they crossed the border when several voices shouted, "halt or die mortals!"

Erian turned his head questioningly and Bryant violently shook his head; they had no time to fiddle with incredulous border guards. Erian increased his pace hoping to leave the warriors far behind but it was too late. Bowstrings snapped in the morning mist and took Bryant in the chest. Erian turned with a scream to stand over his fallen friend, glaring balefully at their assailants who crept cautiously towards their wounded foe. Two arrows protruded from his chest and the fall from a height had not aided his already precarious situation and the darkness was immediately upon him. He knew he was dying and yet lay fading in that forest dell but he also knew himself to be standing knee deep in the River, looking across to the Brightlands where peace and rest called to him. He turned to look back to the near shore where grief, sorrow, and pain lingered still. He could go or he could stay. His heart yearned for that radiant country but he could not yet abandon the quest he had begun and for which he had suffered so much.

He withdrew from the River and returned to the mortal shore and immediately a great light engulfed him. He was again laying in the clearing but no more was he upon the point of death. Life or something greater flooded his being once more and he felt his sword in his hand. The three elves gasped as they watched the ragged corpse draw one last shuddering breath and then suddenly it stood, glowing like the sun. They had taken a fright at the Dreadlord crossing their lands with the princess a captive and were determined to let no one else escape them thus, but this aberration was too much and they fled into the woods. Erian nuzzled his friend warmly and the man threw his arms around the great neck whispering, "thank you."

Erian laughed, "it is good to have you back."

Wasting no time, for now they could move swifter than the seconds and the hours, they were soon off faster than mortal thought. The Dreadlord had gained days and miles upon them, but now they could easily catch him. Cloaked once more as a plain man and common horse they rode on and heeded none that tried to stop them though arrows, spears, and swords pierced them through. The disappointed warriors followed after as swiftly as they could. They came to the great city of the Fairyfolk to find the gates held against them but it hindered them not. They ran silently through the deserted streets and came to the castle and easily entered the courtyard where stood the king and the Dreadlord with his hostage. All three along with the gathered Fairyfolk gasped to see who the intruder was.

Ephod growled, "can you never leave well enough alone? Come a step closer and the girl dies! Be gone, this is not your affair."

The king scoffed, "you took my son and now you will destroy my daughter too? You have much nerve to come back to my lands after such betrayal!"

The girl wept, "father condemn him not! It was I that ran away after hearing Allimer's words; I went to find that which he had found and in a sere and desolate land came upon a dying man upon whom I took pity only to be taken by this fell creature."

The king growled, "but for him my kingdom would yet be at peace, not turned on its head by my fool son and a common dog turned preacher! My folk have never known such confusion in all the days we have dwelt here. I should have killed you when last we met boy, now that fate is assured. What of my daughter, vile servant of the Enemy?"

The Dreadlord laughed, "I will have her as wife and take your place as king to rule all your lands and folk. As a wedding gift you shall give me the head of the Wanderer who causes such discord among your people."

The king was aghast, "I will gladly give you the traitor to my people but I cannot give you my daughter or my throne!"

Ephod laughed cruelly, "then she dies."

The king paled, for he loved his daughter greatly. He looked on the verge of submitting when the girl nearly shrieked, "no father! I would rather die than be so bound to such a creature and to see our people thus enslaved!"

The king wept, "but death is not the proper province of our people! You should live on 'til time's end!"

Her smile was radiant as the new risen sun, "and so I shall and even beyond but not in these lands of sorrow and woe. I am bound for a brighter shore one day, perhaps today, but do not make such a vow!"

The king was greatly troubled, "you too have been corrupted by this nonsense? What am I to do with you child?"

She said a little sadly, "that which you must but forsake not the True King else we shall truly be ever sundered!"

Ephod glowered, "such a wretch is not worthy of the offer I have granted it."

The girl gasped and then slumped momentarily as the Dreadlord drove his dagger into her heart but no sooner had her eyes glazed in death than she raised her head and spoke in a voice like one asleep, "father, do as he says and all will be well." Bryant watched silently, knowing his interference would not aide the situation but seeing the girl slain, he drew his sword and Erian pressed towards the Dreadlord on his fell beast. The king watched in horror as his daughter was thrown to the ground like a lifeless doll and Ephod drew his own sword and turned his mount towards Erian.

The combatants circled, struck, and blocked until finally Bryant's blade took Ephod in the chest but before he fell to dust his own blade took Bryant full in the neck. The Dreadlord and his mount fell to dust that blew away on the wind and Bryant vanished in a flash of silvery light. The king and all his court sat aghast in horror and relief. The king stood as an aged man and slowly made his way to the prone form of his only daughter, at whose side he knelt in grief. He turned wrathful eyes upon Erian and said, "you have betrayed us all! You were to bear that wretched boy far from here, never to return. My daughter lived until the fiend made to interfere!"

Erian said patiently, "you saw as well as I that the Dreadlord took her life well before that."

The king scoffed, "but she spoke and all would have been well!"

Erian shook his head, "her spirit had fled and nothing but her mortal shell remained and that the Dreadlord used as a puppet! It was not your daughter that spoke thus but her killer. You would have subjected your people to such slavery for nothing!"

The king sighed, "at least your vile friend and the Dreadlord destroyed one another."

Erian snorted, "such as they cannot die as mortals can! The Dreadlord's fell master might cast him forever into the abyss and Bryant may choose to cross the River but until then both shall continue the battle that has been begun, perhaps until time itself ends. Do not reject the last words of your dear child, for they are the truth and can bring joy from much grief! Do not waste this, perhaps your last chance, that your people might have to turn to the King ere they rue it for all eternity."

The king gave Erian a dark look and said, "this is not finished between us. Someone must suffer for this day and it looks to be you."

Erian reared and spread his great wings in fury, glowing as if the setting sun stood at his back. He said grimly, "heed well the warning given." He vanished with all the speed of his kind back to the River to collect his ever errant friend.

The guards that had come to capture the Pegassi gaped at one another and the king in astonishment. The king wept bitterly over his daughter and word quickly spread of the strange encounter among all the Fairyfolk. Feledon, who had been for some months abroad among his own folk again, wondered at the tale and soon folk were flocking to hear that which he had to say. The king sent men to destroy him, but ever did he somehow avoid capture for the allotted time he was allowed among his people that all might hear. Finally he was taken and cast deep into the dungeons but on dark nights when the king was alone and brooding he sometimes had him brought forth and listened quietly to that which the boy had to tell before growing angry and casting him again into the darkness. Many were the folk who heard his words ere he was captured and of these many believed much to the anger of the king and all their kin. They set forth for the River, hoping to find the peace of which Feledon had spoken, for now they were outcasts and exiles among their own people. This great emigration angered the king even more so that he finally had the boy executed, which did little to sate his wrath upon which he brooded constantly in the dark watches of the night until his heart was as hard as a diamond but unlike the jewel, it never cast back the light that shone upon it.

Bryant woke on the shore of the River where the water played with the toe of one submerged boot. Erian stood patiently by but did not heed his friend, for his attention was focused on a great throng of the Fairyfolk that emerged from the woods as Bryant stood. They had come seeking the River and the Haven upon the far shore but saw only far mountains and a fair country across the great Rift. They saw the man and the horse upon its brink and thought them no more than what they could see. Said the boldest of the company to the stranger, "tell us man, the way to the River if you know it. We are exiles from our own country and flee the wrath of our king and kinsmen. We were told of a fair land that could be our own if only we trust its King. We have abandoned all in that pursuit and have come in sight of our home but can find no way to reach it."

Bryant said, "I thought all your folk could cross the River at the time of their choosing if only they turned to the King?"

The bold elf nodded, "such was our understanding, at least for those whom death does not court. The lesser kindreds I suppose must pass that door. Must the rest of us wait until time itself fails?"

Bryant said, "perhaps there is purpose in your exile? You will certainly enter that country one day if you remain true but perhaps now is not the time. Much was risked and suffered to bring word of such blessings to you and such favor would be ill repaid simply by flight from danger into eternal bliss. Take heart and serve your King! The whole world trembles under the threat of despair and darkness but you can bear light into all lands and speak that which you know, and after you will come into your own country as faithful servants rather than desperate refugees. Let others take joy in what you yourselves have discovered."

The fairyfolk suddenly began speaking amongst themselves eagerly and then after a time the leader said, "you speak truly and wisely sir! We shall pass on to others that which has drawn us out of darkness that others might also live in the light. We cannot return to our own lands but all the lands of men are open to us. We shall do as you say." With that, they turned with one accord and set out upon the Road that suddenly lay before them and which would bear one here and another there until there were such wanderers in all lands speaking to all the children of men with ears to hear.

"Nicely spoken," said Jonin as he joined Bryant upon the shore.

Bryant laughed, "the words were not my own."

Jonin laughed, "certainly not, for we are but servants who can only speak and do those things the Master appoints to us."

Bryant asked, "why do I feel as if a great shift is about to take place; as if all we once knew will no longer be as it was?"

Jonin said quietly, "because the Last Day is nigh. All will have a little longer to decide what to do with the King; they shall have at least one more chance to hear. The Enemy shall stir and things shall grow dark upon the earth. Then the Son himself will ride forth with all his servants behind him to give the Enemy his final defeat and put the world aright. Woe then to all who do not revere the King for they shall be cast aside into the unending dark with the Enemy himself. Come, we have much work to be about before then, for still we must counter the plots of the Enemy." They exchanged a smile and rode off into the growing evening of time.

The Greylands: Volume VI

### By: Susan Skylark

### Copyright 2014 Susan Skylark

### Smashwords Edition

Author's note: each story is unique to itself and not related in any way to any other story, character, or world in this or any other series.

Table of Contents:

Beyond the Morning

Upon a Far Mountain

Into Shadow
Beyond the Morning:

The historians and astronomers and geologists will tell you that the world revolves around the sun and that the earth is round, but my dear child, they are all of them wrong. Yes, quite wrong, utterly and completely. Men once thought the world flat and that the sun revolved around the earth, and I think, perhaps men were wiser in those days. Of course, this is a fairy tale so I might be mistaken, but at least in this particular world this happened to be the case. In the beginning of things this world had been quite like all the others, but men did not like the way things were so they rebelled against Him who made the worlds and quite made a mess of things. So it was that the world literally fell to pieces, leaving it flat with little bits like islands floating to the East and a shadowy chunk lurking beneath, where nasty things lived and breathed and had their being.

Mountains ringed the whole world about, keeping the water and most of the inhabitants inside, save for one small gap where the Great Sea found an outlet and fell in a great waterfall into fathomless depths below. But the sun boiled the water every night as it passed beneath this strange world and it fell again as rain very early every morning. Thus the Sea was fresh water (and not salt as you might think) and the world never suffered drought nor a rainy day that might ruin all the picnics. So in general, it was a rather prosperous and happy world. Except of course for that minor problem of man's rebellion against his Maker. Besides for that minor glitch, it was quite a wonderful place to call home and an especially good place to have a picnic.

But what was to come of that little matter mentioned above which brought sorrow, death, illness, and violence upon a once joyous and peaceful world? Well, things certainly could not remain as they were, for the Master loved his creatures far too much to leave them in such a miserable story so He came Himself to set things aright. To think that He who made everything would leave unimaginable Glory to spend time amongst the very things He created, naughty as they were. At first, they were quite happy to listen to His stories and benefit from His miracles, but they grew tired of His preaching and jealous of His power, so they did the only reasonable thing and killed the One who invented Life.

Only you cannot kill Him, at least not forever (no matter what the skeptics tell you) and He lived again, but in dying He conquered Death and since the price of rebellion and sin is death, He just happened to pay for all the mistakes and bad deeds of His poor, sundered creatures. The only problem was, most of them were not interested in such a silly thing as redemption, thank you very much! They were quite happy with life the way it was and really could care less about such wondrous Love. They wanted to mind their own business and wanted Him to mind His, of course not realizing that their wellbeing was His business. So it was, that He went back to His place and left the world to do as it pleased, at least until that exciting day when He promised to return and stay forever and ever with his Creatures that really wanted to be with Him; the rest could spend all of eternity in a place where He would never bother them again and they could do very much as they pleased, which they would soon come to realize was not very much fun at all.

The centuries passed and men multiplied and filled the whole earth, and with more people came the obvious problems of greed, war, strife, jealousy, and rage with the strong oppressing the weak, not to mention an increase in littering and other such crimes. Certain countries were better or worse than others in matters of justice and peace, as is always true of the lands of men. In this particular time and place, it was a rather peaceful and prosperous country that was more just than many lands in the history of this world. Its neighbors too were relatively peaceful which allowed them all to dwell for a time in quiet harmony. In the specific neighborhood where this story begins, there were a number of rather rich and influential families with any number of well-bred and educated offspring, all ready to make their way in the wide world.

There were three boys who were quite good friends and had been since the dawn of time, or at least for as long as they could remember. There was nothing that could ever come between them, save perhaps those insurmountable forces of love and death, for taxes as we currently know them had not yet been invented. One of these young men was quite sick and on the verge of that dreadful enemy of mortality, or at least of childhood, yes, romantic love. He was quite sure he wanted to marry the most beautiful (and rich) girl in the neighborhood, and while his friends were quite happy for his good fortune, they really did not wish to see their little trio broken up. While our love-stricken Kyan was off romancing his ladylove, our two remaining heroes, Bayard and Griffin, fell in with an old man who told the most wonderful stories.

He told them of things long ago and things yet to come, of a Great King who had left his Eternal Throne to dwell among mortal men. Of the Great Enemy who had left the service of this King long before the worlds were made, and his intent to corrupt or destroy all that his former Master had wrought, including mankind. They were intrigued by these tales, especially when told that even Today, men must decide on whose side they would live and fight, for it was a war older than Time and none could stand aside or plead ignorance. They must either stand with the King or fall with the Enemy. Quite excited by this prospect, the youths dashed back to find the missing member of their little company who was just bidding farewell to his darling, both with stars in their eyes.

"I must soon propose," said he, as if in a dream.

"Yes, yes," said Bayard impatiently, "all in good time, but come, there is something you must hear!"

Smiling dreamily, Kyan did not resist his friends as they led him back to the interesting man who had so excited their young hearts. The man smiled upon the love-stricken youth, remembering his own days of courting, back when the world was new. Finally, the young man roused from his rosy visions enough to listen to those things the man had to tell. A thrill of excitement ran down his spine, for here was a purpose and a calling indeed!

To tell the truth, the boys and most of their cohort were bored. They had every material pleasure their hearts could desire but it was not enough. Kyan thought himself in love, but mostly he just liked being liked and had no comprehension of the true meaning of the word Love. They had no purpose, no direction, no meaning. What was the point of living? But here was an explanation for why the world was as it was and a challenge to live a life of significance. Said the man in caution, "remember lads, the Master demands your whole heart and being, your very souls! There are those that oppose Him bitterly and you might well pay for your devotion with your lives. If you still wish to pursue this calling, come tonight when we shall all gather in one place."

The boys exchanged an excited smile as he told them when and where to gather, so too did the dark figure smile as he listened intently from his hiding place, but his grin held only eager malice, there was no joy in the gesture at all. The boys dashed off to further discuss these exciting revelations while the old man continued on his way. The dark figure went in search of reinforcements, for he wanted this to be a memorable evening indeed.

Just because they had a secret meeting scheduled for later in the evening, did not mean the three lads could miss the biggest ball of the season. They dandied themselves up to perfection and looked forward to resuming their eager conversation in some quiet corner of the great house that hosted this evening's festivities. But their mothers and the assorted ladies their own age expected them to dance unceasingly for the first part of the evening. Having accomplished their social obligations, Bayard and Griffin managed to slip quietly away but Kyan found himself unable to disentangle himself from Suzanne, who though very attractive this evening, no longer dazzled his mind into pure and utter worship. He tried time and again to join his friends, but the girl was persistent and would not loose her hold on his sleeve. Finally he said, "Suzanne you must let me go! I cannot remain here any longer, for there is a needful thing I must do this evening."

She pouted quite alluringly, "I had hoped you meant to propose this night."

He swallowed hard, what had he been thinking to be so enamored with this girl? This would not be easy, but it must be done, he said as gently as he could, "I have come to realize I cannot marry you my dear..."

He trailed off as she shrieked, "what!?!" at the top of her lungs and froze the dancers in their steps. Kyan blushed scarlet, but did not lose this chance to escape the clutches of his lovely and furious companion.

His friends laughed merrily at Kyan's predicament, but eagerly hastened to the secret meeting arranged by the old man. In the depths of the woods they met, with a glorious sky full of stars looking on and the trees standing in silent vigil about them. The embarrassed trio was the last to arrive and the old man said amusedly, "I was afraid you would not make it."

"Now," said he to the dozen young men that had answered his call, "you are probably all wondering why we are here?" There were several murmurs of excitement as the man continued, "I invited you here tonight to learn more about those things that I hinted at in our previous conversations. You are those who seemed most eager for this mysterious calling. It is in no way required that you go any deeper into this matter if all you wish is to serve our Master in your daily lives, this you can accomplish quite easily in your day to day living by following those precepts I have already imparted to you. This meeting is solely for those who wish to know more of this ancient war and your potential role in it. If you commit to this venture, your lives are no longer your own. You will agree to dedicate them solely, and wholly for the use of our Master and whatever task he appoints each of you. There are those who oppose us with every fiber of their being and every power they possess; they will stop at nothing to thwart our Master's will. This quest will claim your lives, whether it be tonight or a hundred years from now, I cannot say but you must know this before we continue. If there are any here who wish to leave at this point, by all means, get you gone."

There was some embarrassed shifting but no one moved. The man smiled grimly, "then if you are serious in this endeavor, I hereby swear you all to utter secrecy. What you are about to hear is known to very few who still walk this mortal earth. You know of the ancient war between the Master and His once great servant who has become His greatest Enemy. This Enemy does not sleep, nor is he willing to let mortal men live in peace. There are men abroad who have sold their souls into slavery to this dark lord, some even have entered a living death and have become terrible creatures that do naught but his will. What I ask of you this night is to join the ranks of those who oppose these vile men and their undead comrades, that your kith and kin might dwell obliviously in peace."

The three latecomers exchanged wide-eyed looks of wonder, excitement coursed through their veins. The old man continued long into the night, making sure his listeners fully understood what it was they were about to undertake. Finally he finished and asked, "are there any who now would stand aside?" No one moved. "Very well," said he gravely, "come forth one by one and swear yourselves to this service." And so they came forward, each stating his intention to fully abide by all the old man had said, and then taking a long draught of water out of an ancient flagon. "Now," he said, once the last had come forth. "you are each sealed to this cause. Your duties and service will vary, but in the days to come you will each know what is asked of you. Let us disperse before our enemies find us, go back to your homes, and await eagerly your Calling."

The moon had risen and was well overhead by this time, giving plenty of light to the sojourners as they talked eagerly amongst themselves and started to slowly drift away toward their respective homes. All chaos suddenly broke loose amidst the scattered company as nameless creatures howled, wailed, and shrieked in the night, even as arrows and swords, claws and teeth struck wildly into the now panicked gathering. "Run!" shouted the old man, and then everything was terror and frenzy amongst the once eager initiates. Bayard screamed as something viciously sunk its claws into his back, but his two friends each grabbed one of his hands and drew him along in their flight. They found their horses still tied where they had left them, but mad with fright. They disentangled the panicky beasts, who needed no further urging to run. They galloped madly off into the night, heedless of holes or branches that might suddenly end their mad flight, only knowing that worse was behind than any danger that might lurk ahead.

They almost thought themselves away, when a fiendish howl behind them fed fresh fire into their horses' panic and the fear coursing through their own hearts. They prayed desperately to the Master they barely knew for salvation and wondered at the strange fate that would rob them of their lives the very night they decided to make something of them. Griffin's horse screamed, as only a mortally wounded equine can, and went crashing to the earth with his master upon his back, crying, "ride, ride! My horse has broken his leg. Don't stop, it will be the death of us all..."

Bayard and Kyan exchanged a terrified look, wanting to stop their mad flight and aide their friend, but his cries were already lost as whatever was pursuing them fell upon their fallen friend. All they could do was ride on in horror and grief. They galloped on until morning, having heard no sign of pursuit since poor Griffin had fallen behind. The rosy shades of dawn revealed the Great Sea shining crimson before them as their poor beasts collapsed on the beach in exhaustion. A little boat lay upon the shore and beckoned to both of the exhausted boys; they exchanged a tired smile and quickly climbed into the little craft and put out to Sea. They soon caught the current that carried them swiftly east towards the sunrise and the end of the world. They collapsed into an exhausted sleep as the day brightened and the little boat floated gaily along, caught in the strong eastbound current.

The sun had set and both boys roused in the cool of the evening as the first bright stars appeared in the darkening sky. Bayard moaned in agony, for his entire being felt afire with fever from the deep scratches he had received from some fierce beast on the night that seemed more nightmare than terrible reality. Kyan said quietly, "why are we at Sea?"

Bayard smiled weakly, "it felt like the right thing to do at the time."

Kyan thought back to that surreal morning and nodded, "I know of a certain that it was the right thing to do, but where are we going?"

Bayard shrugged and winced with the effort, "at least we left those fiends far behind."

Kyan implored, "but what lies ahead of us? We have no food, you are wounded, this current will bear us right off the edge of the map!"

Bayard smiled, "we wanted an adventure didn't we? The old man said this venture would claim our lives. It seems to me that perhaps death is just the beginning of the true adventure which we have set ourselves."

Kyan smiled thoughtfully, "I think you are right. What is the point of gathering such recruits if they do not survive their first night? There must be more to this strange story than we can even dream." He frowned, staring at Bayard's hand, "what is that mark on your palm?" Bayard frowned and looked at the indicated hand, trying to scratch away what he thought to be dirt. He looked at it more closely, the mark seemed a part of his very skin; it was the figure of a winged horse graven in black upon his palm. Kyan looked at his own hand and gasped when he saw the same image thereupon.

"What does it mean?" asked Bayard.

Kyan smiled, "it is the mark of Him to Whom we belong."

They drifted along for a few days with no sight of land. The weather was mild by day and not overly cool at night. The merry stars danced overhead and the Sea offered plenty of fresh, sweet water to drink. Hunger began to gnaw at Kyan, but Bayard was beyond noticing, for he was overcome with the fever from his wounds and had not stirred since the third morning of their adventure. By the fifth morning he was barely breathing and by evening, Kyan was the sole survivor of their little trio. Tearfully, he eased his friend's remains over the side of the faithful little craft and passed onward into the night. Morning brought a sudden end to his loneliness and hunger, driving them completely from his mind, for the edge of the world loomed before him, mountainous jaws towered on either side of him and the roar of the bottomless cataract filled his ears. He scrambled out of the boat as the cascade bore it over the edge and sat precariously upon the rocks on the very verge of the waterfall, slippery with mist and moss.

"You cannot go that way, lad," came a squawking avian voice just above his ear.

Kyan looked up in astonishment to see a gull perching there. Kyan gasped, "where then should I go?"

The bird shrugged and said, "you had best go home."

The boy frowned, "I am not sure how to get there."

The gull seemed to smile in amusement, "oh, you will undoubtedly find a way."

The boy's only reply was a yell of terror as he slipped and plunged over the edge, but his infinite fall was of short duration, for strong arms caught him and held him firm. He looked up into the sparkling eyes of a man of indeterminate age who seemed vastly amused in his rescue. The boy wondered how the man held himself aloft when he suddenly glimpsed the great wings and head of some sort of winged horse; overwrought with hunger, grief, and surprise, he fainted dead away. The man shook his head in wonder and the great beast soon carried the wanderer home. He awoke upon his own lawn, thinking it had all been a peculiar dream. He sat up, put a hand to his throbbing head, and froze when he saw the mark graven into his palm. It had been no dreadful nightmare but the awful truth. Only then did he realize that his savior was still beside him. The man offered the boy his hand; the lad took it and he pulled the boy to his feet.

Tears of confusion and grief were in the boy's eyes as he demanded, "what does it all mean? What am I to do now? Did my friends die in vain?"

The man shook his head and said quietly, "go see your family lad, from there your path will be clear. Do not doubt our Master's will or your choices or those of your friends. Their sacrifice and yours are not in vain, even if we cannot yet understand the purpose in it. You will not be long sundered I think." The boy nodded grimly, thanked the man for his aide, and walked boldly into the house.

His family rushed upon him the moment he entered the house, demanding to know where he had been, where his friends were, and what had come of so many of the young men of his acquaintance. It seemed a dozen such boys had vanished from the neighborhood within the last week without a trace. "I am the last one," whispered Kyan to himself.

He could not tell them anything of much use and he hardly noticed their continued demands and confusion, busy with his own thoughts, until his oldest sister blurted out, "and Suzanne is set to marry Tyne."

Kyan said in amazement, "what is this?"

His sisters tittered nervously and the eldest continued, "right after you embarrassed her at the ball, she ran off sobbing and the next thing we know, she's engaged to Tyne."

Kyan shook his head in wonder, "how could she marry him? He is the meanest, cruelest boy in the neighborhood!"

His sisters shook their heads in wonder at his lack of understanding, such things mattered little to a woman thwarted in love, especially if she was as young and inordinately passionate as Suzanne; she would seek solace wherever she could find it. He sighed, knowing what he had to do. "Where are you going now?" demanded his mother.

He shouted over his shoulder as he dashed from the house, "to see Suzanne of course."

He ran quickly to her house, knocked upon the door, nearly trampled the poor maid who answered the summons, and burst in unannounced on Suzanne and Tyne. The latter snarled, "well, if it isn't the star-crossed lover! You are too late, fool, your one time beloved is now mine!" Suzanne looked guilty, eager, terrified, and angry all at the same time but said nothing. Her heart pounded, wondering hopefully if they would fight a duel over her; oh, how exciting! Something in Tyne tingled with anticipation, "I had thought you vanished with all your foolish companions. A pity I was not there that night, you do not know how it could have availed me."

His cruel smile deepened as he laid his hand on his sword and drew it forth. Suzanne shrieked in terror and fled the room, perhaps a duel was not so exciting after all. Kyan took a nervous step back, but not before Tyne grabbed his right hand and turned the palm upwards. His smile became malevolence itself. He dropped the boy's hand and revealed his own, on which a vicious dragon snarled. Tyne raised his sword and said, "perhaps your blood shall suffice after all." The boy fell gasping, pierced through the chest by his murderous companion, who raised the bloody sword to strike again.

"Enough," came a firm, commanding voice, "stand aside and you need not be destroyed."

Tyne looked up in astonishment and rage, where had this stranger come from and what right had he to give orders in this, his moment of triumph?

"It would be wise to listen," hissed a third voice, "do not let hot blood and surging power overcome what little sense you have. You have not yet completed the Ritual and are vulnerable until you do. Leave the corpse, it is not worth your life and belongs to their foul Master."

Tyne looked utterly vexed and not a little confused but he backed away from the gasping, wide-eyed Kyan. The first stranger, the very man who had rescued the boy that morning, approached and knelt beside the dying boy, saying, "easy lad, it will soon be over." The boy seemed to relax at his words and touch but each breath became more and more a struggle.

Tyne whined, "why am I denied my triumph?"

The kneeling stranger answered, "he has sworn himself body and soul to the Master, meaning even after his soul has fled, his mortal remains yet belong to our Master." Tyne raised his sword threateningly, but both strangers only shook their heads at his foolishness. Finally, the boy's struggles ceased and he breathed his last.

"Come," snarled the darkly clad stranger to Tyne, "you must complete the Ritual soon or you will meet the fate of your pathetic friend." The pair vanished from the house, leaving the stranger to bear the dead boy whither he would.

The great winged horse suddenly appeared and allowed the man to mount with his grim burden; both vanished from mortal gaze. They reappeared suddenly upon one of those strange floating islands beyond the eastern rim of the world. It was a small island with a great pool in the middle, covering all but the very edge of the little landmass. The man dismounted and lay Kyan on the grass ringing the pool, saying as he stood, "he is the last."

"At last!" came the voice of the diminutive old man, who not long ago had gathered twelve enthusiastic boys about him; in this curious part of the world he seemed to be a wizened creature of elvish-make. The mortal remains of his young protégés, or whatever could be salvaged of them, lay scattered about the edge of the pool.

The man quickly climbed aback the Pegassi and the elf was not long in following after. The minute his passengers were aboard, the great beast took wing even as the pond overflowed its banks, immersing each of the twelve fallen youths in its mysterious depths. The water receded as quickly as it had risen, but instead of carrion in various states of decay, the water revealed twelve astonished young men, trying to comprehend what had just happened to them. The moment death took them, they each stood trembling before their Maker and gave an account of themselves, as all mortal men must one day do, but having sworn themselves to this peculiar service, the end of the interview was somewhat different than whatever they had expected. Instead of beginning an eternity with or away from their Master, they found themselves back upon the brink of Time, in a place where only legends lived: the Lands Beyond the Morning, though technically they were still on the earthward side of the sun, for poetical purposes, exceptions may be made.

The flummoxed boys were quite beyond mortality but not yet residents of eternity. Their only purpose now, was to stand between mortal men and unendurable night. The ancient elf and his companion resumed their place on the turf, ready to answer questions for this new class of Messengers. Jubilant smiles and greetings were exchanged all around, especially as the young men began to recognize one another, a thing quite difficult in the night dark wood what seemed a lifetime ago.

Said the old elf, "this is not what you had expected I think, but it will be quite an adventure and none of you will be disappointed in what is to come. Welcome to the King's Messengers! As such, you are beyond mortality but have not yet entered Eternity, a thing you may do at any time, but from which you cannot return until the end of Time when our Master Himself shall come forth in triumph. Your main duty is to keep the undead servants of the Enemy at bay and protect mortal men from such terrible foes. But at times, you may find yourselves as guides, teachers, or giving warning to men in need of direction or purpose. Fear not, you will know what you must, when you must. You have many questions, but they shall find answer soon enough. Off with you now!"

Suddenly, there was a great flutter of wings and none could look comfortably for the intensity of the light. Nearly a dozen Pegassi (a herd or a flock perhaps?) descended on the little gathering, each alighting beside his new companion. There was much joy in the meeting and soon, the whole lot of them were a-wing and aloft and vanished from sight, all that is except Kyan, the elf, and the elder Messenger. The latter pair exchanged a surprised look and gave a questioning gaze to the Pegassi, who shook his head grimly and blew out his nostrils in annoyance. Garren, the elder Messenger, said to the boy, "we cannot leave you to walk lad! Come, we shall give you a lift until this little matter can be straightened out. It seems your intended companion has said, 'no!' But we can work around this little inconvenience." Kyan looked quite disappointed, but also very eager to see what this strange, new world held for him. He and Garren quickly vanished aback the ever patient Pegassi.

They were once more in the mortal world, in Kyan's very neighborhood to be precise. He smiled amusedly at Garren and asked, "and what are we to accomplish here?"

The man shook his head, "that is for you to discover, we are only dropping you off. There is a reason we were sent recruiting into this neighborhood and why so many of you answered our Master's call."

The boy smiled eagerly, "this shall be interesting then! Farewell!" But the man had already vanished.

The boy shook his head and made his way into the great house whose doors stood invitingly open before him. He wondered at this sudden ability to know where he must be and what he must be doing there, but knew it was as natural to his new profession as once breathing had been to mortal life. He knew that there was to be a great party this night, at this very house, and also that all his companions would make a fashionable appearance during the course of the evening. The neighborhood would be quite astonished to see their vanished sons return without a clue as to where they had been the last week, but Kyan knew that he himself would not be recognized, though all of his companions would. There were those lurking about who might take his reappearance amiss when they thought they knew his true fate. He smiled in anticipation, it would be fun to come to a familiar ball as a stranger! He hurried into the house, eager to see what adventure lay within.

The vile stranger led Tyne out into the gardens where a reptilian creature of vaguely equine shape and size waited impatiently for its dark master. They climbed aback the gruesome beast and suddenly the world spun. Tyne found himself in a place utterly dreadful. It was dark, warm, moist, and smelled of rottenness and filth. "Welcome to your destiny," laughed his dark companion, "this is the Underworld." Tyne gasped and the creature continued, "not the mythic realm of the dead, fool! This is a tiny world, an island as it were, beneath our own world. It ever lies in shadow from above, save as the sun passes beneath the world, then there is a slight lessening of the gloom as it passes but little more. It is populated by all manner of vile and loathsome creatures, anything that has slime, scales, course hair, venom, claws, fangs, or the like is undoubtedly found here. Here it is you must find your destiny. You may find a suitable mount to bear you on our Grim Master's business or one of the wretched denizens of this drear place might take a liking to you and impart some of its own characteristics to you. Whatever happens, you will soon be a far more useful slave."

The boy did not look eager for this part of the Ritual. Sneered his companion, "refuse and you shall remain here indefinitely." Tyne shivered, slid from the monstrosity's back, and stalked deeper into the gloom, hoping the worst he came upon was some sort of reptilian horse like the creature he had just vacated. But his hopes were dashed as something unseen inflicted a painful bite upon his left arm. He screamed and fell, clutching at the wound, but worse was yet to come. His vile companion loomed out of the murk with a cruel knife in hand, he lunged at the wounded boy and completed what Kyan's murder had begun. He took up the now unconscious form of the new recruit and once more mounted his horrid beast, leaving the mindless denizens of that miserable place again to themselves.

It did not take Kyan long to spot Tyne, though this time there was something quite distinctly evil about the vile boy. Kyan shuddered but dared not approach his foe at the moment, instead, he melted into the growing crowd and sought out his companions. It was not difficult to find them, their assorted friends and relatives were quite surprised and relieved to find them apparently hale and hearty and gathered about them in an eager throng. Kyan fell in with Bayard, who smiled joyfully at his friend, whom no one else seemed to recognize. Bayard temporarily fended off most of his well-wishers with some bland excuse and sought out a quiet corner with his friend, said he with a grin, "we had no idea what to expect, but I dare say we shall not regret it in the least. How did your own adventure end?"

Kyan shook his head in memory, it seemed something out of a forgotten tale, "I fell off the edge of the world, one of the Messengers rescued me, deposited me here, I met Tyne who had sold himself into evil, and that was the end of the matter."

Bayard shivered, "that would explain why he feels so wrong. We should apprise the others."

Kyan nodded grimly and they parted, each moving towards one of their companions. Griffin smiled excitedly to be reunited with Kyan, who returned the greeting with even more enthusiasm. The former was quite eager to hear Kyan's tale and rather horrified to hear of what had come of Tyne. Griffin replied, "he then is likely one of those undead creatures we were warned about?"

Kyan nodded, fingering his sword, "he certainly is."

As if knowing himself spoken of, Tyne approached Griffin and his unknown friend. He eyed Griffin curiously and ignored Kyan as unimportant. Said Tyne almost affably, "what came of you all? Your folk were quite convinced you had all run off to become pirates or some such."

Griffin shrugged, "we had a little adventure, that was all. And here we are again, boring as ever it seems."

Tyne frowned, "I had heard darker rumors."

Kyan burst in gleefully, "one should not believe everything one hears."

Tyne shot the insolent fool a withering glance and snarled, "keep out of this, wretch. You have no part in this." Kyan shrugged noncommittally and took a step back from the conversation. Tyne growled, "who is that?"

Griffin smiled, "just an old friend of mine."

Tyne scratched his head, "strange that I would not know him?"

Griffin shrugged, "perhaps you just don't remember him."

A dark smile lit Tyne's face, "he had just better mind his own business, he would not like the way I deal with such pests. Do you not wonder what ever came of another of your old friends, one far dearer than this fool?"

Griffin shook his head, "I suppose you mean Kyan? He is about somewhere, no doubt. He'll turn up, we did!"

Tyne laughed darkly as he walked away, "we shall see!"

Kyan shook his head in consternation, "I wonder what he is up to?"

Griffin shrugged, "I wonder how much he knows?"

Kyan frowned, "he knew something had happened but was not specific as to what." A new idea suddenly occurred to him as he smiled and said, "perhaps I should go pester him a bit more while the rest of you urge all and sundry to go home. I fear this will be a rather dull party, at least until Tyne's friends get here." They exchanged an eager smile and dashed off on their respective missions.

It seemed the rest of their companions had similar feelings and soon people were leaving even before the party had begun. The weakest excuse seemed ample justification to leave and soon the poor host was left all alone, even his wife and children had accepted an invitation to go visit with a neighbor. He sighed, wondering perhaps if the champagne were not cold enough thus insulting everyone and thereby bereaving himself of guests, but suddenly he forgot his glum introspections as he felt a great urge to visit a friend he had not seen in some time. He dashed from the house, leaving only the eleven Messengers hiding from casual sight, waiting for whatever might come.

Kyan had followed Tyne into a small adjoining room and there cornered the vicious boy and peppered him with numerous, inane questions. The irate Tyne tried desperately to rid himself of the irksome boy that he might rejoin the party and prepare for the intrusion of his promised allies, but the fool would not be gainsaid. Finally, in desperation, he grabbed the boy's collar and pushed him back out into the main hall, only to gape about in amazement, for the corridor was empty. He picked Kyan up by his tunic and snarled into his face, "where is everyone, wretch?" Kyan smiled impishly, only to squawk in pain as Tyne buried his venomous fangs in the boy's neck. Bayard's sword pierced Tyne's heart and banished the nearly reptilian menace with a shriek of rage that was swallowed up suddenly by silence as the creature vanished.

Griffin knelt beside their prone friend, but Kyan made no response, apparently stunned by whatever venom poisoned the wound. Bayard shuddered, "how did he change from man to snake?"

Griffin shook his head, "we have much to learn about the wiles of our Enemy and his servants." He smiled eagerly, "as Tyne no doubt will have much to learn about us."

All conversation was lost as suddenly the room broke into complete chaos. Two dozen indescribable creatures, all hideous and bearing swords, broke into the room only to find it empty of anyone save their bitterest foes. Many of this vile horde had been among those who had fallen upon these very boys on a memorable night not long ago, but this time they were not lambs at the mercy of wolves. They fought desperately, the agents of evil vanished when mortally struck, as did the Messengers, but the Pegassi had the irritating habit of bringing their banished companions back almost immediately. So it was that only two of the creatures remained and they soon thought better of staying any longer. What was to have been an easy slaughter of an entire community turned into a rout and an embarrassing defeat. One of the creatures, a loathsome spider like thing, found the insensible Kyan en route to the door; he smiled, took hold of the prone form, and hastened out into the night. Bayard and Griffin followed, but the monstrosities had disappeared. They exchanged a grim look, but knew they had to trust Kyan's fate to their Master.

The two fiends fled to the Underworld, wherein most of their companions found themselves when so vanquished by their perennial foes. Several of them gathered about these last refugees, some glancing curiously at the inert burden borne by the spiderish fiend. "What you got there?" croaked a lizard like soldier.

"There's no pulse," hissed a skeletal warrior, "fresh blood would be a welcome treat but all you have is carrion."

The spider shrugged, "it is at least more than you lot managed to salvage."

"Idiots!" snarled a more senior minion, "do you not know a Messenger when you see one?" They stared at him in horror as he continued, "he is merely stunned from a venomous bite and will soon enough recover. When he does, I doubt you want to be around to see it." There was some uneasy murmuring and then the entire company vanished about whatever errands this minor adventure had interrupted. Kyan was tossed into a moldering puddle like so much refuse. He awoke not long after, his strange vision able to see quite well in the pitch black that usually engulfed the Underworld. He shuddered, wondering where he was and why anyone would choose to linger in such a place.

"An excellent question," came the unanticipated reply, which made the boy realize he had spoken aloud. The voice continued, "which begs the question, what are you doing here? You are no denizen of this place nor are you one of those unholy brutes that so often haunts this wretched plane." Kyan frowned in confusion, moving deeper into the murk and the muck to discover the source of this despairing voice. He found a very pitiful sight before him, it was a Pegassi neck deep in the mire, coated in slime, and his once white coat usually afire with hints of the sunset was the color of wet ash. The wretched creature asked once more, "who are you and what are you doing here?"

Kyan shook his head, "those vile creatures you speak of must have borne me here while I was insensible, before that I was attending a rather dull party."

The creature snorted in dejection, "I came here willingly, fool that I was. We will both die in this miserable place, but at least you have some chance at a happy ending. Mine shall be worse than even this lovely place."

Kyan frowned, "I did not think the Pegassi were of mortal stock."

He laughed mirthlessly, "only those of us foolish enough to defy our Master's will! A thing was asked of me and I refused, fleeing here in hopes of hiding my shame."

Kyan smiled slightly as he said, "then why not go back and beg forgiveness?"

He snorted in derision, "repent? Seek redemption as if I were a mortal man?" He cocked his head, as if suddenly realizing something remarkable, "that is not a bad idea! To think one of the Pegassi would ever need redemption, but so it is! Come lad, help me out of this mire and I may be able to get us both out of here before we rot."

Kyan uncoiled the handy bit of rope that seemed to have miraculously appeared in his possession, looped it over the great beast's head, and then wrapped the loose end around a handy boulder several times before putting tension on it. Erian at first recoiled at the notion of having a rope about his neck but soon understood what the boy intended and as soon as the boy held the loose end firmly, he used the tension from the rope to ease himself out of the mire with the boy taking up the slack as he struggled forward. Soon enough he was free. He reared and shook himself and pawed the wretched earth in anticipation. "Now boy," said he, "off we go! It is a rare thing for a Pegassi to carry a mortal child, but such is my gratitude. Come along."

Kyan shook his head but was soon aback the magnificent creature who easily winged his way out of that miserable land. They flew for a time beneath the bulk of the world and once upon the rim, where the great cataract fell forever into the Deep, the Pegassi landed and ordered the boy to dismount. Said he, "sorry lad, but mortal men are not allowed beyond the rim of the world."

"But..." came Kyan's plaintive answer but the great beast had already winged away, Beyond the Morning. Kyan shook his head, smiled in amusement, and sat upon the mossy boulder to await the silly creature's return.

Erian had not flown far when he espied the ancient elf standing on a small floating island with a pool in its midst. The Pegassi lit on the grassy verge and said to the Elder, "I have been a fool!"

The elf laughed and pointed to the water, "in you go lad, if it is forgiveness you seek and thereby life anew!" He plunged in eagerly and came forth shining like the sun. He reared in utter joy, but the elf motioned him to silence before he could proclaim his wonder to the world. Erian watched curiously as one of his kinsmen alighted on the far bank, bearing one of the Messengers and what appeared to be a corpse. The Messenger dismounted and lay his burden beside the pool, remounted, and together the pair vanished. The pool then rose and engulfed the dead man and receded just as quickly, leaving an astonished Messenger in its wake. Erian's ears perked up in excitement, was this his moment? No! There came a flutter of wings and another of his kinsmen joined the man on the far side of the pool before they both vanished upon errands unknown.

Erian turned in confusion to the elf, "I have returned! I will agree to this service! What am I to do?"

The ancient elf smiled sadly and said, "you have missed your moment of joy, lad, such is the price of rebellion."

The Pegassi's ears fell in dejection, "what then am I to do?"

The old elf laughed, "you have already met your appointed partner. The boy has chased you across the whole face of the world, was forced to beg a ride in order to accomplish what he must, and you left him sitting on a rock on the rim of the world!"

Erian sprang into the air with a laugh, saying, "I wondered how he seemed to know so much about Pegassi!" And then he was gone in search of his missing partner. The boy stood as he saw the wondrous creature return and smiled to see him restored to himself. He hovered near the boy and said somewhat sheepishly, "I suppose I have been the cause of some trouble on your part. Forgive my thoughtlessness and let us be off!" The boy laughed, shook his head, and was soon aback the great creature and off to their next adventure.

"We have to go back to our old lives?" came the astonished voice of one of the twelve Messengers gathered in the glade where they had held their first meeting. It was still the night of the rather dull party and with Kyan's appearance, all of the local lads were now accounted for. The old man stood among them again, somehow managing to beat Erian to this meeting by half an hour, but time is of little consequence to those beyond it. The renewed Pegassi had landed, his rider joined his overjoyed friends, and then he joined his own eager kinsmen as the Elder began his address to the young Messengers.

"You must go back to your old lives for a time," said he, "you cannot all disappear indefinitely at the same time, it will cause too much of an interruption in your community and people might start asking questions. Besides, the Enemy has failed in one attempt to destroy your kith and kin, I doubt he will be long in trying to rectify the situation." Having given his orders, the ancient elf vanished, knowing the young men would do their duty, no matter how strange the situation.

The neophyte Messengers broke up into groups of two and three to discuss the matter; Kyan happily joined his two friends and recounted his recent adventure. "We are to go back as if nothing had happened?" said Griffin, after Kyan had finished.

Bayard frowned, "are you not supposed to be murdered?"

Kyan shrugged, "only Tyne is aware of that minor fiasco and he already knows something is amiss with all of us. Our families however are unaware of our recent adventures and must continue to be so, at least until we can all sneak away in a believable fashion."

Griffin nodded, then smiled, "so are you still set to marry Suzanne?"

Kyan shuddered, "thankfully I broke that off before all of this, though I think she may still want to kill me."

Bayard grinned, "I thought Tyne already did that."

Kyan laughed, "not as thoroughly as he thought, but I am sure Suzanne would be happy to finish the job."

They shared another merry laugh, but three eager Pegassi interrupted any further mirth and urged their riders into their saddles. The other Messengers had already disappeared, en route home no doubt, so the three stragglers happily obliged their insistent partners. They were soon in their saddles and on their way back to their rather mundane lives, as if the entire adventure had never happened. As each neared their one time home, the three friends separated and went to their respective houses, each handing over his 'horse' to the waiting servants. The Pegassi shook their heads in amusement and tried their best to act the part of a mortal horse, so well did they succeed in their ruse that the servants thought each the dullest creature in their particular stable.

Kyan entered via one of the side doors and was relieved to see that no one seemed to be home, but as he silently crept up the stairs and headed towards his room, his youngest sisters, a mischievous set of twins, interrupted his flight. They stared at him for a moment and then laughed in a pitch sure to bring his mother and eldest sister running, eager to scold him for not attending the lavish though quickly abandoned party, still in need of some explanation as to where he and his friends had been the last week, and still needing to chastise him for his appalling treatment of Suzanne. Within half a minute, the anticipated ladies had arrived and were doing a lovely imitation of a pair of upset hens while the mirth of the younger pair intensified threefold.

Once the cacophony had wound itself to a murmur while the instigators finally slowed for air, Kyan said simply, "forgive me mother, I have been an undutiful son of late and can give no excuse for my behavior. As for my own tardiness, I spent much of my time sailing. But I hope my behavior in future will cease to alarm and discomfit you. As for Suzanne, I fear I was never meant to marry the poor girl, but she deserves better than Tyne!" His mother seemed mollified by his vague apology, after all, one could not expect too much of rich young sons. Then it was all to bed, the servants sighing with relief at the return of peace in the house. And so it was in all the houses wherein a young man had gone missing of late, save that of Tyne. He too returned home, but in a far from joyous mood and his parents feared him so much that they took the entire household, servants and all, on an extended trip to the seashore leaving him as sole possessor of the house, save a servant as ill-tempered as himself.

Morning came, as is its wont, and after breakfast the young men went out to 'amuse themselves' for the day as was theirs. The party of the night before had been a tremendous bore and quite an embarrassment for its host, but since all and sundry had gone a-visiting as they had not in many a year, most had enjoyed themselves immensely, far more than they would have at another tedious party and thus forgave their host, and as the host's house was in a decently untidy state he reckoned that the evening had not been a complete loss and thus forgave himself. As Kyan was going outside to commence with his socially prescribed daily amusement, a servant handed him a letter addressed to himself. He opened the missive and wandered out into the gardens, where Griffin and Bayard thus found him reading his letter. He smiled and said, "I was correct, Suzanne does want to kill me or at least wishes her brother to challenge me to duel."

Griffin laughed, "Fredrick is no match for any of us, he is the one who is going to get himself killed."

Bayard smiled thoughtfully, "I cannot imagine she wants you dead, she probably just wants to scare you into proposing, but I thought she was engaged to Tyne? And if so, why not have Tyne challenge you rather than her lovable but bumbling brother?"

Kyan grinned, "she writes to say that her father will not allow her to marry such a person as Tyne and thus is forced to resort to drastic measures to restore her honor. I think you are quite right in your assertions."

"What are you going to do?" asked Griffin.

Kyan smiled impishly, "why, accept of course." The others stared at him for a moment in confusion but suddenly smiled eagerly in comprehension. Kyan continued as blandly as he could but he could not completely hide the amusement in his voice, "and my mother has asked the two of you to tea, she is quite determined to have my eldest sister decently married as soon as possible and has settled on the pair of you as likely candidates."

Griffin scratched his chin and eyed Bayard stonily, but a slight smile touched his lips, "I do not know that I like competition in the affairs of the heart. I may do something rash in such a case."

Bayard put his hand to his sword hilt and smiled, "you are welcome to try, but who is to say that you are the only hot-blooded fool among us?" It was some minutes before the laughter died away and they were able to speak again, for such things as romance and rashness had died with them and seemed quite foreign to their current sensibilities. Much did they wonder at how much such concerns could fog and distract a mortal mind and direct mortal behavior.

By the time their conference had ended it was time for tea and so dutifully did they go into the house. Kyan quickly wrote a response to Fredrick, accepting his challenge while Bayard and Griffin sat with Kyan's mother and eldest sister, enduring a lively conversation consisting solely of the banalities common to the ladies' daily lives. By the end of the tête-à-tête, the pair was nearly ready to fight a duel simply to find something actually worth talking about. The three gentlemen then excused themselves under the pretense of going for a ride, to which the ladies gladly assented, wanting to discuss privately the meaning of every word and nuance of their conversation with the charming young men. Kyan sent his letter and the three retreated towards the stables where all three Pegassi were waiting for their errant riders.

Once they were well away from listening ears, Erian remarked, "I never thought my first assignment would consist solely of standing in a stall and eating hay."

Kyan grinned, "nay my dear Pegassi, for soon you will be put through your paces and we shall see how fine a jumper you are. I have been looking for a decent hunter of late."

"Hunter indeed!" laughed the Pegassi, "but I suppose you can hardly sell me if I do not meet your standards."

Kyan smiled, "we shall see, but my sister's pony is lame and she has begged the use of you."

They all laughed as Erian sighed, "at least aiding a lady in distress is a noble pursuit."

Kyan asked of his companions, "and what of your budding romance? By the looks of it, my sister and mother were quite pleased with your company."

Bayard said in feigned anger, "I would that this man kept away from the lady, ere matters grow dangerous."

Griffin sniffed, "are you threatening me sir?"

Bayard grinned, "name the place and time and we shall see if this be threat or promise."

Griffin looked grimly at Kyan, "as this gentleman has already embroiled himself in a challenge, for the sake of convenience, let us all meet at the same place and time." Bayard nodded with a grin, "that will suffice, sir. I look forward to the day."

They rode about until dinner, discussing their plans and enjoying the day. The two gentlemen were of course invited to dinner that their affections might increase thereby, no doubt spurred on by jealousy, or so thought the lady of the house. A reply to Kyan's letter came after dinner proposing the morrow as the appointed day, if it were convenient. To this Kyan happily agreed and announced his intentions to all present, whereat Griffin immediately challenged and was accepted by Bayard. The ladies were quite excited by the prospect of not just one but two duels, how lovely! No matter the outcome, there must be much to talk over for years to come and if things turned out badly, was it not thoughtful of the gentlemen to save on funeral expenses by holding a joint service? It was all very proper and correct, no one could see anything to gainsay in the matter. Kyan quickly wrote an assent to the proposed duel and his mother sent out notices to all her kith and kin, thereby alerting the entire neighborhood to the morrow's delightful affair. The ladies quickly withdrew to plan what they might wear. The gentlemen exchanged an amused smile.

The disagreeable servant brought the news to his master, who stared at the stooped man in incomprehension. What were those boys up to? How is it that Kyan was still alive? A grim smile grew on his lips, he would see the boy dead once and for all. Tyne dismissed the servant and spent most of the night brooding on what this strange epidemic of dueling might mean and how he could use it to his advantage. After his dismal failure at the party, his masters were demanding something grand and terrible to befall the entire community, perhaps this was his chance.

The day dawned far too cheerfully for a day that might see one or more of our robust heroes cut down in the prime of youth, but since that minor catastrophe had already befallen three of the four combatants, it was of little matter. They rode out in their best clothes and arrived in a timely fashion for the morning's exercises, but all their acquaintance was already assembled and awaiting the commencement of the dual duels, also dressed in their best and bringing along food enough to last three days, whether in celebration, mourning, or both. Tyne too was present, lurking about the perimeter of the crowd, scowling at all and sundry so that none dared approach him.

The combatants were quickly in position, with Kyan and poor oblivious Fredrick pairing off first. They listened to the rules, bowed to each other, and with a flourish of their swords, entered the deadly dance that must somehow restore a lady's perceived honor. Fredrick was a terrible swordsman, Kyan was pushed to the limits of his skill trying to make the poor fellow look good. Finally, by sheer accident, Fredrick managed to land a fatal blow. So surprised was he that he dropped his sword once his foe had been so struck. Kyan collapsed, the crowd gasped, and then cheered, for it had been a rather rousing round of swordplay. The astonished Fredrick was welcomed as a hero by his equally flabbergasted folk, though Suzanne was not sure whether to feel pity, remorse, or satisfaction, so contented herself with absorbing as much of her brother's newfound glory as she could, consoling her vanity thereby.

The officials drug the loser from the field, allowed the celebrants to settle themselves in anticipation of the next round, and then called Bayard and Griffin to their places. The pair was quite skilled with the sword and put on an exhilarating display for the onlookers before fatally stabbing one another, the double tragedy adding exquisitely to the audience's enjoyment of the day. Kyan's sister was both appalled and thrilled to lose her two supposed lovers thus, but her mother was quite sensible of the boost this would give to both her own and her daughter's social standing, it did much to console her for the loss of her son. As to that, the boy had chosen a perfectly acceptable means of perishing, and as he had done so before he could bring ruin or shame upon the family at some point in the future, and as it would gain her even more sympathy among all of her acquaintance, she was very nearly satisfied. All that remained was to have a lively funeral for the three, and after an acceptable time of mourning, she and her daughter might reap the benefits of such a tragedy for years to come.

Tyne stood back and watched the fools and their antics, wondering what all of this malarkey was about and wishing he could summon some of his fellows to wreak havoc amongst this addled throng, but alas, it was too late to call for reinforcements and such was best done in secret, whereas here some might witness the slaughter and survive to tell of it. That and his masters little trusted him after his last botched assignment and would be slow to send him such help without a certain and sure plan for success. He would probably have to find some mortal reinforcements if he was to succeed and hoped to regain his masters' trust thereby. If he failed again, it might well be the last time.

Instead he approached the slain, who were momentarily forgotten in the tumult over the double tragedy. The field judges had drug them off to the side and laid them out on the grass as respectfully as they could until matters pertaining to the disposal of their mortal remains could be ascertained. The approach of the dreadful man drove the judges to some other, just remembered errand on the other side of the field, thus leaving Tyne alone with the deceased. He smiled coldly as he inspected the fools and found no trace of blood among the three of them, quite unusual for the aftermath of a swordfight. His smile deepened as he finally understood what the fools must be about.

He suspected much of these three and their companions, but could only surmise the truth. Why would they stoop to dueling for so ridiculous a reason? If they were what he suspected, why duel at all? Especially Kyan and the pathetic Fredrick, the former was a poor swordsman, but the least experienced man in the world should easily be able to defeat the fool. The only answer could be that they wished to appear to die by an acceptable and believable means rather than to arouse suspicion in their former friends and family. Well, let them die as they would, it was nothing to him, save perhaps as an indirect means of furthering his own schemes. He turned and quickly walked away, leaving the others to carry out a most grand and impressive funeral.

After the throng had had a chance to gawk at the deceased and then wandered away to mourn via feasting, the lids were nailed on the three coffins and the matter seemed finished, but the Messengers awoke to find themselves in a dark, confined space. Being of a rather strange physical composition, it was quite easy for them to simply stand and step through the solid wooden box, unseen by any mortal eye. The three briefly paid their unseen respects at the ongoing party and content in their success, retreated into the twilight.

"I cannot believe you were bested by Fredrick," said Bayard to Kyan.

The boy smiled at the memory, "a child with a stick could have bested the poor man; I had to fight hard to lose! But at least I did not allow a woman's affections to tempt me into a duel wherein I killed my best friend and he me." He eyed his companions stonily and then smiled; they readily joined in his amusement.

Once their mirth was again quiescent, Griffin said, "we had best get on with our next assignment."

"And what would that be?" asked Bayard.

Kyan replied, "we are about to become horse thieves."

Bayard shook his head, "but that is a hanging offense." Then he laughed, "of course what does that matter to us? Come!" They dashed after their energetic friend but soon took to the shadows as they approached the revelers once more, for they knew themselves again visible to mortal sight, though they would appear to be strangers even to their closest kin. They shared an amused smile as they studied one another, such ragged and dirty men were not often seen in this prosperous part of the country, at least not by those who frequented only the best of society. The Pegassi stood quietly with the other horses, waiting for their young masters to return, rather amused by the whole ordeal. The horses sensed the approaching men and eyed them curiously, one whickered in greeting. The Pegassi watched the intruders intently, not yet recognizing who these villainous seeming youths actually were.

When Kyan approached Erian and tried to swing into the saddle, the Pegassi reared back, tossed his head, and flung the offender off his back. The boy sat where he had landed with a quizzical look on his face as he looked at the Pegassi; the laughter of the others drew a rueful grin, as he realized he was the only one who had attempted to gain his saddle while the others waited and watched. Kyan stood and approached the irate Pegassi, who continued to toss his head and eyed the intruder with fire in his eyes.

"Forgive the intrusion my dear Pegassi," said he, "but I fear there has been something of a misunderstanding."

Erian frowned, squinted at the boy, and reared for joy, "a good disguise that, if it can fool even me! I cannot allow every fiend who happens along a ride now can I?"

Kyan laughed, "well, I am not just any fiend, you know. Now come, you are being stolen."

Erian shook his head in amusement but finally allowed the young Messenger into the saddle; the others were already mounted and waiting. The Pegassi made a bit more fuss, just to make it look authentic, and then the three stolen horses and their villainous riders vanished into the deepening night. The revelers looked up from their amusement and were astonished to see such villains in their midst and making off with three of the best hunters in the county. Several of the men were quickly in their saddles and giving chase, but the thieves had vanished without trace. Now there was even more to talk about so the party continued into the early hours of the morning.

As the rosy tints of dawn were creeping into the world, Fredrick found himself riding sleepily home with two other young men of his acquaintance, still thrilled with his triumph of the previous day and happily looking forward to his bed. They had just crested a large hill, when three disheveled men came riding up the opposite side at the gallop with swords bared and voices raised. This unanticipated din, on a once peaceful morning, that had so suddenly interrupted his happy ruminations threw Fredrick's mind into helpless confusion, but his companions were not so easily cowed. They drew their swords and urged their horses into the fray, only to fall dead from their saddles and have their horses taken as plunder. Fredrick saw what had come of his companions and quickly turned his horse and fled the scene.

"Not a bad show," said one of the captured Pegassi, "this ought to give the folk hereabouts something to talk about for years to come."

Bayard laughed, "enough chatter, you are a captive, remember? We had best move along before Fredrick returns with help. It will be a busy week for funerals." The three Messengers and five Pegassi retreated from sight while the two 'slain' Messengers lay unmoving where they had fallen, allowing their folk to think they had met a tragic but heroic end.

It was truly a tragic week for the little community, but never had they had such things to talk about! Besides the duel and murderous horse thieves, one young man had died of food poisoning from something consumed at the first funeral, another had been bitten by a snake, one was trampled by a stampede of sheep, and one was flung from his horse. People began to edge away from the three 'survivors' of the original dozen young men, thinking the lot of them were now somehow cursed. Wishing to avoid more socially awkward moments, the three proposed to go out and hunt down the horse thieves that were now terrorizing the country. Fredrick said he would love to go with them but alas, someone must stay home and protect the ladies, a sentiment which Kyan's eldest sister thought quite heroic and soon she was making eyes at the man who had supposedly killed her brother. So the three intrepid youths rode out to put an end to the thievery, only to be found dead after what must have been a valiant effort on behalf of all their folk.

This last funeral was the grandest of them all, causing Kyan's mother to lament, "if only he had lived to die like this, so much more heroic than losing a duel." The aggrieved mothers seemed to be in a contest to see whose son could die in the most romantic or tragic manner. But at least the curse seemed to be over and people could go about their lives without fear, at least of anything save horse thieves. And sinking again into complacency was just what Tyne wanted them to do, now that all of their potential guardians had vanished from the countryside.

The band of horse thieves now numbered a dozen individuals and never had any of the locals seen such haggard and grim looking men, at least from a distance, for none dared get closer than absolutely necessary. They seemed to haunt the entire countryside, appearing just long enough to send the now wary populace running for their lives, and each encounter grew worse with the retelling. Tyne listened with interest to these rumors and fears, desiring to harness this terrified energy for his own purposes. The people were far from complacent, but perhaps terror was an even better ally for his burgeoning plans. First he must track down this band of reprobates and see what use he might make of them; he had to be certain they were truly mortal men and not his bothersome foes in disguise. He asked his vile servant if he knew where these men hid themselves or if he could find out. The man smiled eagerly and said he would know by nightfall. Tyne's return smile chilled him to the bone as he dashed from the house in pursuit of information.

The man would have had difficulty locating this enigmatic band of so-called thieves and murderers had they not wished to be found, for not requiring sleep or food and having the ability to hide from mortal sight made them impossible to track down by any mortal means. But as the sole purpose of this little farce was to draw Tyne and his allies into a trap and hopefully rid the neighborhood of the villains permanently, the Messengers began to lurk in places they had never dared enter as mortal men. But as near legendary murderers and thieves, they could go wherever they pleased and were very nearly worshipped by lesser criminals. So it did not take the vile servant long to locate a representative of the band and discuss a potential meeting. The chief villain agreed to the meeting, arranging a time and place for a conversation of mutual advantage, or at least that is what the servant promised. The villain did not seem overly impressed by what was said by the servant of his dread master and promised that if things were not as profitable as the servant assured, things would not be pleasant for said master or his minions. The servant shivered, but it was a feeling of far less dread than his master inspired thus did he flee home to tell all that he had seen and done. The servant's report intensified Tyne's thirst to know more of these villains and to use these wonderfully vile criminals for his own ends; their leader minded him much of himself, which must be a very good thing.

Kyan shuddered after his interview with the vile servant, disliking the feel of the man, but eager for this final confrontation with Tyne. He disliked inspiring fear in the general populous but it was vital to their mission. Nothing ever actually happened to the persons or property thereabouts, but enough eerie sightings, dreadful rumors, and tales of murder and mayhem (albeit exercised on those who were a part of the scheme) were enough to inspire a general dread in the neighborhood and thus attract Tyne's interest, but how to keep him involved when he discovered the true identity of his foes? They might be able to fool his eyes, but there were certain oddities that could not be hidden from his notice. Kyan sighed, stood, and left the shabby tavern where his conference had taken place. Bayard and Griffin emerged from the bushes and said that the servant had ridden quickly off in the direction of home as soon as he had vacated the inn. Tyne would soon have his heart's desire, now to prepare for the meeting. They mounted their waiting Pegassi and within a moment were standing in the clearing where their first meeting had taken place. The trio was the last to arrive, as usual, and Kyan quickly explained things to everyone. The obvious question was broached: how to avoid betraying their strange nature to their enemies until all was finished?

A sudden silence fell on the glade and every man and Pegassi present was immediately on his knees. A brilliance too bright to look upon filled the clearing and when it had diminished, a little magpie perched on a branch in their midst and said in a sing song voice, "now you can do what you must and your enemies will not know you." With a flit of His wings, He was gone.

As they regained their feet, there was an uneasy stir among the Pegassi, for all save one had never felt this particular sensation before. The Messengers had spent most of their existence in this condition so it was nothing new, only a surprise to feel it again. "What has happened?" gasped one of the lovely creatures.

"I feel quite strange," came another.

Erian shook his head, "we are mortal creatures!"

There was a communal gasp and much uneasiness until Kyan quieted the Pegassi and Messengers alike, "this is vital to our mission, we will no doubt be restored when all is finished here." At this, they began to relax and their thoughts returned to their quest, to which they looked forward with much relish. The time of the meeting was drawing near and as they must now get there by a more traditional means, they were soon in their saddles and off to keep their tryst.

Night had fully fallen by the time the company had gathered themselves on the great lawns, now overgrown, at the back of Tyne's family home. Most of the men remained in their saddles, swords at the ready while Kyan and his two friends dismounted and approached the waiting Tyne. He laughed at their vain precautions, for if they truly were mortal men they could do nothing to hurt him, but they would not know that. The three stood before Tyne and Kyan demanded, "what is it that you so boldly propose that would be of benefit to me and mine?"

Tyne sneered, "I am the master here and I will speak when I see fit. You will learn respect or you will die." He drew his sword and thrust it deep into Kyan's chest; he smiled upon seeing blood quickly pour forth from the wound and covering the gory sword as he pulled it free. He smiled down upon their lifeless leader and said to the now agitated band, "that was to teach the rest of you manners, it was too late for your chief. Now that you are leaderless, I will fill the vacancy. Any man who rejects this offer can do as your captain and die. Any volunteers? Good! You have done a most excellent job of terrorizing this neighborhood, but I do not simply want to terrorize but to destroy and I will use you to do just that. You are welcome to any plunder that remains afterward, but all these silly and pathetic folk will soon be put to the sword."

He had found his mortal allies, now to contact his dread masters and ask for some help of a more useful nature. These fools would be a start, but for a slaughter of this magnitude, he would need even more help. He ordered his new recruits to hide in the woods until morning and promised whatever they needed would be supplied; he also asked that they dispose of their chief's carcass while they were at it. Tyne then turned and went back to the house, leaving his servant to see to the demands of his new minions. Bayard took over leadership of the company and ordered two of the Messengers to see to Kyan while he treated with the servant in order to procure food and supplies. Once the company was settled for the night and all unfriendly eyes gone from the camp, Kyan sat up and looked around.

Bayard saw that his friend had revived and quickly told of what had come to pass. The boy smiled as he wiped blood from his mouth, "so he is convinced we are mortal men, good! You continue to lead and I will pass as just another ne'er-do-well hoping to make his way in the world with as little trouble to himself as possible. Speaking of which, I suppose I had best get myself cleaned up. Real bandits never have to take a bath!" He vanished in the direction of a small creek and the company tried to get what sleep they could.

When the servant came to check on the mercenaries in the morning, he found them hungrily awaiting the food he had promised for their breakfast. He was not sure how many there were supposed to be, but there seemed to be as many as there were the previous night and they had apparently even disposed of their late captain as ordered. He smiled, thinking his dread master had inspired such obedience, but his face hardened as he said, "tonight we shall test your loyalty. My master has summoned reinforcements and they should be here this evening, at which time the slaughter will commence. Afterwards, the neighborhood is yours to plunder."

They stared stonily at him, apparently not trusting Tyne's promises after his dealings with their chief, but it could not be helped. He gave them their slop and returned to his master, certain that none of the fools would survive the coming slaughter though they would help in implementing it. Tyne had been successful in his pleas to gain reinforcements, his recruitment of such mortal filth and his proposed plan were enough to appease his masters and grant him a reprieve, but if he failed again, it might well be the last time. But, smiled he to himself, there were other ways to gain approval in the dark auspices of his master. The servant had just entered and reported on what had passed with the recruits when Tyne bid him bring the new chief of the company. The man shivered, not liking the hungry tone in his master's voice, and returned to those he had just left and ordered Bayard into his master's presence.

Said Tyne as he paced back and forth before the chief of his minions, as a master before his pupil, "do you want power beyond this mere mortal pittance you are allotted?"

Bayard looked uneasily about and shifted his feet, as he said, "I am content with my lot."

"Fool!" snarled Tyne, "do you not aspire to more?" Bayard noncommittally shrugged his shoulders as Tyne's more serpentine side presented itself. "Will you not obey, slave?" snarled the snaky abomination. Bayard took a step back and Tyne struck. The servant entered soon after, summoned by his master to clean up the mess. The servant shuddered but quickly withdrew to the camp to get help in disposing of their second captain in a twelve hour period. At this rate, there would be few left for the evening's excitement. Tyne paced the floor, greatly annoyed that anyone could be so foolish as to refuse such an offer, at least it was only a minion and he had extras. The thought of the evening's entertainment immediately brightened his mood.

They drug Bayard back to the camp, where he lay unmoving for several hours, but eventually the effects of the venom wore off and he awoke. Griffin was now in command of the company as Bayard withdrew into the nameless ranks of common soldiers, his face changed that Tyne might not recognize him. Kyan grinned, "Tyne is certainly hard on his officers."

Bayard shivered, "I do not like the snakish side of him in the least."

Kyan said quietly, hand on his sword hilt, "perhaps tonight will make an end of his evil."

The sun was setting when Tyne presented himself to the company and ordered them to mount up, for the hour had come. They were quickly armed and in their saddles, riding out as the day sank into night, a fitting metaphor, for it seemed a shadow had fallen upon the world. As they rode along, strange and evil looking creatures, having the appearance of mutilated and twisted men, came alongside them. The Pegassi beautifully acted the part of uneasy horses while the men were equally perturbed, for their hands itched for their swords that they might banish these dreadful foes, but not yet. Finally Tyne called for a halt in the midst of the neighborhood, snarled he, "leave no survivors. Let nothing that draws breath continue to do so."

Growled one of the evil creatures, pointing at the mercenaries, "what of them?"

A rank smile touched Tyne's lips, "do they not breath?" He had at first planned to have the mortal scum take part in the slaughter, but he now had enough help that it made their presence superfluous; they had been merely a means to an end. He had meant to destroy them afterwards, but why not start with them? As Tyne spoke, the Messengers drew their swords and made ready. "Death!" snarled Tyne, and his minions leapt into action.

Much to their dismay, it seemed the ragged company was not as helpless as they had assumed. While they could still rend flesh and kill, the swords of these infidels could wreak equal havoc amongst the undead creatures, banishing them temporarily to the Underworld. A hideous spider like creature flung itself into Griffin's saddle, tearing out his throat even as he stabbed it in the chest, two others soon overcame the Pegassi. The vanquished creature vanished while Griffin regained his feet and dispatched the two minions that had killed the Pegassi, who was again on his feet. All around him the vile creatures tangled with the Messengers, thinking themselves triumphant only to find themselves mortally struck and thus banished. The first mortal blow freed the Messengers from the constraints of mortality but a second would banish them likewise, but the Pegassi were quick to fetch them back to continue the fight until only Tyne remained. He stared at them aghast, now recognizing each of them and what they were; those who had been twice struck appeared as fell warriors slightly illuminated by some inner light while those who had been struck once looked to be the ghosts of murdered men, eager for revenge. Tyne could not decide which was the more terrible to look upon, but searing anger was building in his heart to the point of desperation, his failure could mean the very end of everything, including himself! He lunged with sword and teeth at the nearest to him, eager for vengeance. He was quickly vanquished by his too numerous foes, and at last the local folk could finally live without fear, oblivious to all that had passed in the night.

Kyan took in his entire company and smiled, "we are a loathsome sight but we have fulfilled our mission. I think we had best vanish before anyone notices we were ever here." But there was one amongst them that was slow in regaining his saddle. Ithril and his Pegassi had come through the fighting unscathed and thus still wore mortal flesh while the rest had been restored to their previous state. Kyan asked in surprise, "what of you?"

The boy shook his head, "I think we have something yet to accomplish, but then, so do the rest of you." Each seemed also to know this and after a hasty farewell, they vanished in a flutter of wings and light, all save Ithril and Bayard. When mortally struck, the latter had vanished but his Pegassi had quickly fetched him back; with the disappearance of Tyne and the other Messengers, he now looked a common boy in unremarkable clothing.

Said he to Ithril, "we had best disappear ourselves before someone comes to see what was causing such a ruckus just now."

Ithril nodded, happy to be in company with his one time cousin and friend, but before Ithril could mount, a groan caught his attention and he turned to investigate the sound, for none of the combatants should have left a physical body behind. But there, under an encroaching bush, lay Tyne's vile servant who had been bitten by one of the hideous creatures and then forgotten. The Messengers exchanged a worried look, they could not abandon the stricken fellow, but they knew in their hearts that such a wound carried dire consequences.

Bayard took up the prone form and easily heaved him onto the Pegassi's back, saying, "I will bear him to Tyne's former home and meet you there."

Ithril nodded, mounted, and galloped into the night while Bayard and his mount vanished with their grim burden. Ithril saw to his Pegassi's comfort after the harrowing night and then entered the house, wherein a single candle burned in one of the lower rooms. Bayard had stripped off the man's tattered clothes, bathed his wounds, and tried to make him comfortable, but he was already feverish and raving in delirium. Ithril entered the room, studied the patient, and exchanged a grim look with Bayard.

Garren suddenly appeared, greeted his junior colleagues, studied their senseless companion, and shook his head grimly, saying, "this is not good lads, it would have been far better had they killed him outright, instead he will sink further into a delirium and eventually madness. He will lose his sapience and become a monster like unto that which wounded him, with an insatiable appetite for human flesh."

"Can nothing be done?" asked Bayard anxiously.

Garren shook his head, "there is no cure save death yet that we cannot mete out."

Ithril frowned, "what is usually done with such hopeless cases?"

Garren sighed heavily, "we can only turn him loose in the Underworld, where he can hurt no living creature. I will bear him thence." He took up the now raving form, getting bit several times for his trouble, and vanished aback his Pegassi. The remaining pair shuddered at his fate.

Ithril sat heavily on the now empty bed, haggard and worn from the trying events of the day. He felt rather feverish himself; he gratefully lay down and was soon asleep. Bayard had momentarily forgotten his companion's lingering mortality in their concern for the servant, but ruefully he remembered that the lad had come through a harrowing experience and had not the reserves of eternity to fall back upon. He blew out the candle and withdrew from the room, allowing Ithril to rest undisturbed. He went out into the night to take in the peace and beauty of the stars, but before he could do more than ascertain that they were still in their places, Ithril's Pegassi approached him. The creature, for now a mortal horse, said in concern, "what came of the injured man?"

Bayard shook his head, "there is no cure, he will become whatever it was that bit him, save his mind will be gone and only the beast will remain. He has been exiled to the Underworld to protect mortal men."

The Pegassi blew out his nostrils, "and Ithril?"

Bayard said, "he is sleeping, the day has been hard on him."

The Pegassi shook his head, "no, will he suffer the same fate? He was attacked by some wolfish creature, but was able to fend it off before it killed him, though his wounds are far less than those of the stricken man you just banished."

Bayard shuddered to think of the same befalling his kinsman and friend, but while his flesh was mortal, his mind, heart, and soul were the Master's and could no longer be touched by such evil, could they? Garren returned from his grim errand to find the perplexed Bayard and the worried Pegassi deep in council on the overgrown lawn of the great house. Bayard explained their predicament and Garren scratched his head, "that is a puzzle! Rarely do mortal men suffer this fate and even more seldom are the Messengers wont to wear mortal flesh, but thus has it happened. He will not lose his mind or soul as the other has done, but who knows what his body will do and how much control he will have of it. The easiest solution would be to find someone to kill him before he becomes dangerous."

The Pegassi snorted, "and who are you going to find to do that? We are incapable of such a feat and it is not as if we can explain our situation to just anybody. Can't we just drop him from a height?"

Bayard laughed at the oddity of the discussion, "we are incapable of hurting mortal men, anything we do would be fruitless."

Garren smiled, "we will just have to watch and see what happens; he must abide by the same restrictions as the rest of the Messengers, therefore I doubt he can do much to hurt others." They returned to the room where Ithril slept, noting he had slipped into a delirium as had the servant. Bayard sat beside the bed and Garren went to inquire of the Elders as to what could be done.

Ithril woke late the next morning, parched and ravenous, Bayard offered him water and food. He drank his fill but would eat nothing but meat; his eyes had taken on an odd yellow color and now held a predatory gleam. Twice he tried to snap at Bayard, but his teeth closed on thin air, teaching him not to bite the hand that fed him. He snarled and returned to his meat. Bayard shook his head, not liking the changes wrought in his friend. Sated, Ithril rose and dashed for the door. Bayard tried to block him, but the boy dashed straight through him and made his escape. He dashed madly about the great house, trying to find some escape until he finally jumped through one of the windows in desperation. Bayard followed, running through the wall and out onto the sunny lawn. He stopped in astonishment and fear, for a fell warrior of a race or people unknown to him stood on the lawn with spear in hand. The crazed Messenger paused for a moment in fear of this dread warrior, but then snarled in wrath and leapt upon this creature that would dare stand in his path. The spear flew and caught the maddened boy in mid-leap. He collapsed with a whimper and lay still, as the grim warrior pulled his weapon free, Bayard swallowed his fear and ran to his fallen comrade's side.

The warrior stepped back as the second Messenger approached and watched silently as Bayard knelt beside Ithril. Though a great hole now gaped in his chest, the boy suddenly groaned, put a hand to his head, and sat up, smiling at Bayard. He then turned his gaze to the dread warrior, and said, "thank you." The warrior bowed and strode quickly away.

As Ithril regained his feet, Garren appeared, seeing Ithril in his right mind brought a smile to his face. He nodded to them both in greeting and said, "the elders sent their answer I see."

"Who or what was that?" gasped Bayard.

Garren replied, "he is of the race of the elders, a fierce warrior of a people unknown to man. They have never rebelled against our Master and have thus never known death. They dwell on one of the larger islands beyond the eastern edge of the world."

Ithril grinned, "I never thought to thank someone for killing me."

Bayard shivered, "I am glad your mind is again your own."

"As am I," whinnied the Pegassi as he trotted up, "but alas, I am still a mortal creature!"

"Easy my dear friend," smiled Ithril, "we shall wander the world together for a time and see what adventure awaits us."

The Pegassi snorted, "I could not ask for a better companion, but I hope you have no more intentions of biting anyone." Ithril smiled and embraced the arching neck.

Bayard grinned, "shall we be off then?"

They were both soon mounted and on their way, but a quick detour to the Lands Beyond the Morning were needed to restore Ithril's physical visage to some semblance of normalcy. His Pegassi waited patiently while the others quickly completed their errand and then they were off as fast as a mortal horse could reasonably travel.

"I do not know why I must go on this visit of state rather than my father," moaned the young Prince Gyor.

"Obviously there is a Princess involved," said Tabor, the only son of an influential lord and the Prince's closest friend and advisor.

"I should have known," groaned the Prince in even greater dejection, "whatever am I to do?"

Tabor grinned, "marry her I suppose."

The Prince frowned and said, "that is hardly helpful my lord Tabor, but that gives me a rather curious idea. These Royal foreigners have never seen me or you, why don't you pretend to be me and marry the loathsome creature in my stead?"

Tabor arched an eyebrow and said, "can you be serious Sire? Would it not be some sort of treason to deceive them so? Could it not result in war?"

"If that is all that concerns you, fear not, for I shall simply pass the crown to you and the grasping woman will have her Prince," said the unconcerned young Prince. "

I still do not like it," said Tabor sternly.

The Prince sighed, "defying me will be treason, sir."

Tabor sighed, "very well Sire, as you wish it, but any consequence of this action shall not be of my doing."

"Agreed," said the Prince happily, having finally found something to make this trip interesting. At their next stop to rest and water the horses, the lordly pair exchanged their accouterments that the one might pass for the other, and with none the wiser, they continued on their journey.

They had declined the King's offer of a company of soldiers and an assortment of servants to accompany them, maintaining that they could survive quite happily without such an encumbrance and that there had been no known danger on the ancient road in the last hundred years. Of course, as in all such tales, the noble pair was undoubtedly wrong, but a legion of soldiers would not have availed them against such foes as were soon to fall upon them. Tyne, now dreadfully out of favor with his superiors, was determined to succeed in his next assignment, else he might be banished forever to the Abyss. Fomenting war between two Kingdoms could not be that difficult, especially when the crown prince and heir was traveling betwixt the Realms in search of a bride. It was with little difficulty that Tyne jumped from an overhanging branch, landed in the saddle behind Tabor, and took control of the terrified horse, which galloped madly down the road.

Meanwhile, the true prince abruptly pulled up his mount and sadly watched his friend vanish into the distance. It was a tragic loss to the Kingdom to be sure, but there were many young lordlings but only one Crown Prince. He turned his horse and quickly headed for home. Tabor tried desperately to reach his sword or to secure the reins, but the fiend had the strength of ten men; he might as well have been wrestling a snake, for so he was save in the shape of a man. He quit his vain struggles to conserve his strength and wondered what the creature would do when it discovered he was not the true prince. His shiver brought an evil laugh from his captor and that was answer enough. He was not surprised that Gyor abandoned him to his fate, after all, it was not in his royal nature to consider anyone more important than himself.

They finally stopped and the villain carried the young lord as if he were a sack of grain; they entered a hovel that was literally collapsing in on itself, but it perfectly suited Tyne's mood and purpose. He threw the faux prince to the ground and snarled, "do you love your life?" Tabor stared stonily at the creature; rant, threaten, or wound as the villain would, the young lord would not betray his friends or his country. Tyne stared at the wretched creature before him, who did not love life enough to do whatever was necessary to preserve it? He smiled cruelly, "perhaps you do not possess that which makes life worth the living? Perhaps you want something more than life?" Again, silence reigned in the little hovel. "I can make this very painful," snarled Tyne. Yet there came no answer. "You make this too easy," scoffed the monster, "it could have been much to your advantage or at least a quick and painless death, but you have made it very, very hard on yourself, fool."

Tabor sighed deeply and prepared himself for whatever the creature intended. He was not afraid to die, long had he been at peace with the Master, no matter how much his friends mocked him for his faith, he had found no reason to doubt or weaken it. He prayed silently for some rescue, but had resigned himself to suffer what he must ere the end. Tyne continued to taunt, rant, and threaten for another half hour but still the boy would give no answer. In his wrath, he struck out violently at the fool and finally he said something, but it was only to groan in agony. Suddenly the house was filled with light and wind as a Pegassi appeared, filling the entire hovel. Kyan's blade easily found its mark and banished Tyne from that place. The boy dismounted and the Pegassi vanished, leaving the two young men alone. Kyan quickly assessed the condition of Tyne's prisoner and shook his head in dismay, the wound was not immediately fatal but would certainly spell his doom in a day or three.

"The Prince!" gasped the wounded Tabor, "you must save the Prince. That thing was after the Prince, I am merely an imposter."

"He will return," said Kyan almost to himself, "yet all the walls and guards in the world will not prevent whatever it is that he intends." He turned to the dying man, "the Prince needs someone to ward him from such a fiend. Preferably someone he knows and trusts. Are you such a man?"

Tabor gurgled a laugh, "I have been his best friend since we were barely old enough to walk. That is why I willingly die here in his stead. But I have no power over such a creature."

"No," said Kyan, "but there is no reason that you cannot acquire that ability, at least if your heart is willing."

Tabor said weakly, "that creature offered me power and life unending, what can you give better than that? I refused him, why would I listen to you?"

"Why indeed?" said Kyan with a smile, "I offer nothing, I am but a Messenger. It is my Master who offers true life and the skill necessary to counter such foes. You will die. Nothing I can do will stop that, but even in death, you can find life. That creature's master offers only death, though they call it life, and his only power is that of a hopeless slave. You were wise to reject all he offered."

Tabor said quietly, "who is your Master?"

Kyan said reverently, "the Master Himself."

Tabor's ears suddenly perked up, "if this be the case, I wish to hear more."

Kyan shook his head, "I have told you all I can, unless you wish to hear what all mortals should know of the Master, but I think this you know already."

"Very well," said Tabor, his excitement for a moment overriding his pain, "what must I do?"

"Do?" said Kyan, perplexed, "we can do nothing of ourselves, it is only the Master's power in us that can accomplish aught. But I suppose you mean what must be done? All that is needed is a willing heart and a draught of water."

Tabor said weakly, "then let us be about it."

Kyan produced a small flask from some hidden pocket and gave the boy a drink. The boy sighed in relief, the pain having suddenly vanished. He felt so good that he tried to stand, only to collapse in agony. Kyan shook his head, "you are mortally wounded, you cannot go flailing about like that lest you do yourself more harm! The water relieved some of the pain but the wounds are still there."

Tabor sighed from his place on the floor, "must I just lie here and die?"

Kyan shook his head, "if there is a place you would rather go, we can bear you thence."

"Where can we go?" asked the intrigued Tabor.

Kyan smiled, "anywhere you desire."

Tabor said thoughtfully, "I cannot go home, no one should know of my curious fate. There is no sense completing my journey, as no one knows me there and they should not know of this either. Do you have any ideas?"

Kyan shrugged, "where would you spend your final hours, had you a choice?"

Tabor laughed, "I have always wished to see the Lands Beyond the Morning."

Kyan shook his head, "no mortal man is allowed beyond the rim of the world."

Tabor sighed, "I suppose the Underworld might be interesting."

Kyan shivered, "I cannot think of a more dismal place in the mortal world."

Tabor smiled, "I did not say beautiful or pleasant, only interesting. Can a dying man not see one of the world's curiosities before he succumbs to his fate?"

Kyan laughed, "I will bear you thence if that is your wish, but do not say you have not been warned. It is dark, dreary, and full of loathsome things, perhaps your attacker is even now lurking about in that dreadful place."

Tabor tried to reach for his sword, but his arm would not respond as it should, he sighed and said, "there is little more he can do to me, save perhaps to hurry along the inevitable."

"So be it," said Kyan grimly as he called back Erian and lifted the injured man into the saddle. Erian turned his head and looked at Kyan in astonishment when he heard their destination, but faithfully bore the pair to their insane destination. "What do you think?" asked Kyan of Tabor upon their arrival.

"It is everything you said and worse," laughed he, "to think anyone would desire to see such a place, though it is one of those places of legend and mystery, but I doubt one can get much of a tourist trade going down here."

"I suppose we had best be going?" said Kyan hopefully.

Tabor could barely see in the dim light that penetrated into the dismal place when the sun was in the right position, but he thought he could see something moving off to one side and he clearly heard something splashing in the puddles and the squelching of the mud wherever a foot stepped. "There is something down here!" said he.

"Whatever it is," said Kyan, "it cannot be good. Nothing good is found in this place."

Erian snorted, "we are here at this moment and it was not that long ago that we met in this dismal spot."

Kyan shook his head, "I meant almost never, now let us be going..." He never finished his sentence, for something struck him and he vanished, followed soon after by Erian, who had also been attacked by something in the dark. Tabor suddenly found himself on the ground, or rather half submerged in a murky pool and terribly alone, except for whatever had attacked the others.

A man-sized creature of serpentine feature drew the fallen boy out of the muck and hissed into his face, "you?! Here!" Tyne threw the stricken lad back into the muck and laughed scornfully, "because of you I was banished here permanently, or at least until my masters can find some lowly task for which I might be suited, else I shall rot here until the stars fall! And now it seems you are stuck here as well. But why?" He drew the boy out of the slime once more and studied him, his strange eyes catching every detail, even in the perpetual twilight. He felt a weak pulse, took in the boy's various wounds, and knew the creature had not long to live, but at least death was an escape from this place. Then he saw the winged horse graven on Tabor's palm and hissed sharply, so the creature thought he could become a Messenger? He would see about that.

Tyne dropped the boy again and stood lost in thought for some minutes, little noticing the strange snuffling and mewling noises that grew louder as another creature approached. Tabor's cry of pain finally drew Tyne from his musings to see some man shaped creature with a feline aura about it attacking the stricken youth. Tyne immediately snatched the creature from its prey and snapped its neck, dropping it into the mire in surprise when he saw its face and knew that once it had been his vile servant and henchman. The servant's tattered clothes gave Tyne an idea. He again drew Tabor out of the sludge and immediately began stripping off his once royal garments and put them on the dead servant. As a final touch, he used his vicious claws to disfigure the servant's face to such a point that not even his own mother would be able to recognize him; he shredded the man's palm as well to erase anything that might be used to identify the body.

Once he had finished dressing the servant in the filthy but fine robes, he took the stricken young lord and cast him into the deepest part of the mire, wherein lurked a nasty collection of aquatic beasts that were always hungry for fresh meat. The denizens of the slough made short work of Tabor and fought violently over what little remained. Tyne withdrew, leaving the dead servant to be found by whomever would come seeking Tabor. He had not long to wait, for in a flutter of wings and blinding light, a Pegassi appeared, someone quickly dismounted, gathered up the carcass, and just as hastily vanished. Of course the trick would not fool them for long, but it would give Tyne some much needed amusement and perhaps even prevent the upstart fool from joining ranks with his enemies.

Kyan and Erian landed on the little strip of grass surrounding the strange pool on the floating isle Beyond the Morning. Kyan dismounted, deposited his grim burden, and was swiftly aback Erian who went immediately aloft. Instead of the water rising up to cover the slain figure, the water shrank back and actually appeared to dry up, as if in the midst of a sudden drought. "This is strange," said the Elder as he paced along the edge of the pool and stared down at the ruined figure on the sward, "the pool behaves as if this poor creature is not who you were sent to find."

Kyan frowned as he dismounted from Erian, who had landed again when the water had receded. Said he, "I do not know who else it could be. It is not as if..."

The boy shivered, "what happens if the water is used on the wrong individual?"

The Elder said thoughtfully, "the creature will live forever in whatever state it is in, that is why the world was broken and man was driven away from these waters, else he might live forever in his ruined state rather than having a chance to find redemption and live forever as a renewed creature. But the water knows and will not touch an unrepentant creature. This must be the wrong creature."

Kyan shivered, "we were in the Underworld and something attacked us and sent us back here. I returned to find the boy dead as you see him."

The Elder stared at the boy in astonishment, but his face warmed with an amused smile, "sightseeing?"

Kyan shrugged, "I did not think it dangerous, the boy was already dying."

"These clothes look quite fine though they have seen some rough wear of late," said the Elder thoughtfully, "are they the clothes of your lad?"

Kyan nodded, "his were the clothes of a Prince."

Queried the Elder, "could he have recanted at the last moment?"

Kyan shook his head and frowned, "no, rather some mischief is at work here. Someone marred his face and palm, no doubt the same something that attacked us. But who was this poor man?"

The Elder stared down at the corpse and remarked, "he is rather furry is he not?"

Kyan shivered, "some poor captive of that dreadful place no doubt. I will return him and see if I can find Tabor." He took up the dead servant and was soon gone, in search of the real corpse. Kyan laid the wretched man where he had found him and sloshed about in the muck, feeling his quarry must be close by but not able to find it.

"Looking for something?" came Tyne's scoffing remark.

Kyan looked up in surprise and demanded, "where is he Tyne?" Tyne took up the dead servant and cast him into the same pool into which Tabor had vanished. Kyan watched in horror as the aquatic denizens made short work of this second meal of the day.

"Even the bones are consumed!" triumphed Tyne, "they have left nothing. Too bad that, you need all the help you can get." His scornful laughter vanished into the distance, leaving Kyan alone in the dark, fetid mire. He plunged into the depths, but soon discovered that Tyne was correct, nothing remained of either corpse. He surfaced, found Erian, and they returned to the Elder with their grim news.

"Nothing at all?" came the Elder's surprised remark when Kyan told him of his fruitless search. The Elder laughed, "if that is all, you need not look so grim lad. Go fetch a handful of earth from the place where the boy died, that will suffice."

Kyan gave him an uncertain look but returned to the Underworld and did as he was bidden. The Elder told him to cast the dirt into the pool. He obeyed and the water started to fret and swirl until violent waves broke its once mirror like surface. One wave crashed against the greensward and washed up a very surprised Tabor. A moment later, a Pegassi landed beside him and greeted him enthusiastically. Kyan smiled at the Elder and vanished. Tabor saluted the elder and likewise vanished aback his Pegassi. The Elder smiled at the incongruities of the mortal world and left the now calm pool to itself once more.

Bayard and Ithril were riding slowly along a stretch of road unknown to them, but knew it to be somewhere near the famous capital city, though few of their former acquaintance had ever ventured so far from home. In their exuberant, youthful enthusiasm they had always talked hopefully of one day making such a journey, but their current mission was as close as they had ever (and might ever) come. A sudden blinding light and flutter of wings announced the appearance of a Pegassi on the road before them. Bayard's mount reprimanded the newly arrived Pegassi, "you must learn to arrive with less ado! Had we been anything but what we are, such an appearance would certainly not have been to your advantage. It would terrify mortal men and warn your enemies!"

The newcomer snorted his amusement but made no reply, knowing full well who his audience would be upon their arrival. Tabor exchanged greetings with his new comrades as he fell in beside them. "I have no idea what I am doing," said he with a smile.

Ithril laughed, "that makes three of us."

Bayard shook his head in amusement, "I believe he knows what our mission is but is rather referring to the fact that he has not been long a Messenger."

"Precisely," said Tabor, "as to our mission, that is simple. We are to ward the Prince Gyor against any more attempts to harm his person or foment war between his father's Kingdom and that of his affianced lady."

Ithril nodded eagerly, "as you have apprised us of our mission, so too will we be happy to answer any questions you have regarding your new occupation."

Tabor laughed in delight, "I am much obliged, but come, we must hasten to the Prince's rescue. Those fiends that seek his life will not tarry long, neither must we!"

Bayard shook his head, "we cannot all travel at the speed usual for a Pegassi, as one member of our party is currently in a mortal state."

Tabor said in surprise to Ithril's mount, "I am sorry my dear creature, I was unaware of your predicament. Of course we must set our pace to yours."

The Pegassi blew out his nostrils and said in mild frustration, "I wish I were not such a nuisance!"

Ithril patted his friend's shoulder and said warmly, "nay dear friend, you are never a nuisance. Rather, there is likely some reason for your current state that we cannot yet see, and we must adjust our plans accordingly. Besides, the mortal world is a wide and wonderful place, too easily missed if we flit about madly from one point to another. It will be a delightful change of pace to travel in a more leisurely style."

The Pegassi shook his head and laughed, "I suppose there is nothing I can do to change my current circumstances and as they will undoubtedly be reversed soon enough, I had best appreciate them while they last? Trite, but still good advice that I had best take to heart." They trotted along in a lighter mood, chatting about where they had come from and what they were going to do. Tabor found their previous adventures fascinating and they were intrigued by his descriptions of the capital and its royal inhabitants, most especially the young Prince.

Night was falling and the mortal member of their party was showing signs of weariness. Tabor was about to remark that they had best find an inn, but suddenly remembered that five sixths of the party had no need for such an establishment and the remaining individual might be more comfortable outdoors on such a night. Ithril broached the subject and his Pegassi replied with a yawn, "of course I would prefer a night under the stars when the weather is as pleasant as this. I have had my fill of cramped, dusty stalls and moldy hay!"

The three Messengers exchanged an amused smile, but still felt an urge to find the local haven for travelers and gossipmongers, but for reasons other than rest and refreshment. They rounded a bend in the road, which happily revealed their anticipated destination. The riders dismounted, bid goodnight to their mounts, and went into the inn. The Pegassi vanished into the shadowy woods on the other side of the road, one to rest and graze while the others warded the night. The Messengers had hardly entered the inn when a shout of surprise and ill-contained joy met their ears, "Tabor!"

The young prince had ridden as far as he dared before turning into this very establishment to seek solace from his grief, terror, and rigorous travel. His heartache turned to sheer joy upon sighting his sundered friend. Seeing that his exuberance was drawing undo attention, Gyor wisely grew silent and motioned for the newcomers to join him. They nodded and made their way to the anxious Prince, who was desperate to know of his friend's adventures and what had come of the fiend who had attacked him.

Once everyone was seated and the barmaid had seen to their comfort, they talked quietly of the weather and the likely travel conditions upon the morrow until all and sundry had forgotten the outburst and returned to their own drinks and companions. Once all seemed oblivious to their conversation, Gyor said eagerly to Tabor, "come man! Tell me what has befallen you this day! And who are your friends?" He eyed the strange pair as one might study a horse he had a mind to buy.

Tabor said quietly, "it has been a strange day for both of us no doubt, and it seems you have suffered greatly in your own right."

The Prince nodded glumly, "aye, I never thought myself such a selfish coward until I saw you taken and rode as fast as I could in the opposite direction. I am heartily ashamed of myself! But it heartens me to see you alive and well, if only you could find the heart to forgive me!"

Tabor smiled warmly, "I forgave you ere that fiend bore me away and will be truly grateful if you are a better man for it."

The Prince nodded thoughtfully, "today has opened my eyes to many parts of my character that are less than useful to any man, especially to one in my position. Perhaps one day I shall be a better King for it. Now come, what of your adventures?"

Tabor smiled at his friend's ravenous curiosity and said, "the fiend was after you. I said nothing, no matter how he threatened or what he promised. Finally he grew tired of my obstinacy and things might have grown grave indeed had rescue unlooked for not found me. A fell warrior came upon us, defeated the fiend, and thus was I free to return to your aid."

"And who are your friends?" asked the Prince eagerly, hoping that one might be this storied hero.

Tabor replied, "a couple fellows I met upon the way, eager to aid us however they can. We must complete our errand Highness and you must arrive as yourself, not I in your guise."

Gyor put his head in his hands and groaned, "I know, I know, but it is not something to which I look forward, but it is a duty I now know I must accomplish for the good of all in both Kingdoms."

Tabor smiled slightly, "Highness, are you learning responsibility?"

The Prince looked up with an equally slight smile, "I suppose I am, what a frightening thought!" He sobered and faced Tabor's companions, "what madness has seized you lads that you would risk life and limb on such a venture? How is it we know we can trust you?"

Bayard smiled, "Sire, for the good of two Kingdoms, the risks are rather insignificant by comparison. As for trust, you will have to decide upon that matter yourself, but we are at your service nonetheless."

The Prince sighed in resignation, "if Tabor can trust you then I must as well; at least I owe him that much. Welcome to the adventure gentleman, I hope you find greater pleasure in it than I will."

Tabor said quietly, "it is not for us to ever be seeking pleasure but rather doing that which is right and good and our appointed duty."

The Prince smiled, "at least your adventure has not dented your sense of moral superiority."

Tabor returned the smile, "nay Highness, if anything it has sharpened it." The Prince groaned in feigned horror but then actually began to listen to what his friend had to say upon such matters, he felt that he owed Tabor at least this much as well for his failures of the morning. Thus did he listen attentively, when in times past he had been all too prone to mock and jeer; Tabor was quite gladdened by this seeming change of heart and hoped it would last.

The Prince yawned and said, "well, this has been an educational evening at least, but I need some sleep. All this moral enlightenment is quite exhausting." The others agreed and bade him goodnight, Tabor accompanied him to his sleeping chamber and saw that he was properly tucked in before taking a chair and silently watching the night. The Prince yawned, "are you not going to sleep?"

Tabor shook his head, "I am not tired and one of us should keep watch, as I doubt that fiend acts alone."

Gyor said sleepily, "quite right, quite right..." He drifted to sleep and never finished his thought. Tabor kept watch in the Prince's room while his two companions skulked about the inn and its surroundings with nothing of interest to report; we shall move on to the following day, but the reader may feel free to fill in the most minute of details of the previous night if thought necessary.

After breakfast and a good night's rest, the Prince was very nearly ready to face his doom or marriage, whichever might befall him in the near future; unsure which would be the most unpleasant, but at least eager to see what the future might hold for him. Our intrepid adventurers set out and covered the ground the Prince and Tabor had already traversed the previous day, ever watchful lest another misadventure befall them and delay them further. But nothing of import happened for three full days and the next day would bring them into the capital city of Alaria where Gyor's doom awaited, whatever it might be.

Their final evening at an inn was again unremarkable and Gyor was glad to retire early, for he had something he wished to discuss with Tabor. Said he once they were alone, "your companions seem to be quite dependable and cheerful fellows, but though they are from rather prosperous families they cannot be considered worthy companions for such as we when we return to civilization, not being of noble birth or title."

Tabor eyed his friend curiously, "and what has that to do with anything? I thought a person's worth had nothing to do with birth and everything to do with heart."

Gyor sighed, "there you go being ethical again! How is civilization to survive if you debunk the well established fact that those of noble birth are far above the peasantry in manners, strength, wit, value, and sense?"

"We are all human," said Tabor calmly, "our social status does little to imbue us with either virtue or vice, though perhaps how we are raised predisposes us to one or the other, but families of any social strata can err in that matter. A Lord can be as much a tyrant as the meanest peasant, so too can the poorest wretch be a great saint."

Gyor shook his head, "why do you have to make sense? Life is much easier simply accepting our traditional social misconceptions instead of swimming against the current of societal norms and seeking true justice! I suppose your friends can come with us, I just thought it looked rather scandalous to be accompanied by such common men on so important a royal errand."

Tabor smiled, thinking that he and his companions were actually a rather uncommon sort of man, but Gyor did not know that. He said, "I think it best if they remain with us, for we are at far more risk amongst so many strangers than we are upon the open road."

"Very well," said Gyor with a resigned smiled, "your friends may accompany us to whatever end."

Tabor smiled, well pleased with the changes wrought in his friend's character by the emotional shock he so recently suffered; the potential was there for the man to make an acceptable King after all. He was finally beginning to see others as thinking, feeling individuals too, rather than just assuming all men were there to be used in whatever capacity he deemed appropriate and that they should be content therewith. Suddenly Tabor was on the alert, something felt terribly wrong, said he to the Prince, "Sire, there is something amiss. Perhaps you should conceal yourself behind the door and thus be out of sight when it opens; I shall assume your place upon the bed."

Gyor frowned at his companion but was too flummoxed to argue and quickly obeyed the strange precautions. No sooner had the pair assumed their positions than the doorknob turned slowly and the door opened a crack. The intruder paused for a moment, but hearing nothing and seeing no light, he proceeded to slowly open the door. The Prince barely breathed as the door opened fully, concealing him from casual sight. The darkly clad intruder ghosted into the room and thrust a dagger into the unmoving form on the bed. Tabor groaned and the villain fled, triumphant in his task, only to meet Bayard and Ithril in the hall. They made short work of the undead minion and rushed into the Prince's chamber to ascertain what had come of their companions.

Gyor emerged from behind the door and pounced upon Bayard as he entered the room, driving him to the ground. The Prince heaved a sigh of relief to discover who these new intruders were. He stuttered an explanation as he got to his feet and offered the prone Messenger a hand. Ithril lit a candle so that they might all see what mischief the foul minion had wrought. Tabor lay unmoving in the bed, cold to the touch but perspiration beaded on his forehead; his breathing was fast and shallow. There was a gash in his thigh that was bleeding profusely. Ithril tore a strip of cloth from the sheet and used it to tourniquet the injured leg and exchanged a puzzled look with Bayard, for the Messengers neither bled, breathed, nor perspired, at least not in their usual state. He was mortal! "Will he live?" came the Prince's worried query.

Bayard said ironically, "he lives indeed." Finally the boy's eyes fluttered open and he stared at his friends in amazement, but there was no puzzlement in his eyes. In fact, he seemed to know exactly what had happened though he could not discuss it in front of the Prince. "Can you ride?" asked Bayard of the patient, "I think it best if we are not found here in the morning. I do not think our enemies will be long in discovering they have failed again."

Tabor nodded, "perhaps it would be best if Ithril and I swapped horses for a time, but yes, I think we had best be gone from here as soon as may be."

Ithril smiled slightly, "I think it can be arranged."

Gyor groused impatiently in his relief and dread, "what matters the beast you ride? Let us be gone from this place!" Seeing no reason for further delay, the four immediately made for the stables.

The matter was quickly discussed amongst the Pegassi while Gyor was busy saddling his horse and the creatures agreed that it was a quite unheard of but not unworkable idea. "At last," said the mortal Pegassi, "a rider who understands the constraints of mortality."

Tabor grinned, "but you forget that I actually weigh something whereas your former rider was no burden at all."

The Pegassi feigned a shudder, "alas, poor slave that I am, I will endure what I must. Come lad, the day wastes." They glanced out the open door but only the first grey hints of dawn had begun to creep back into the world. They shared a smile at wasting a day hardly begun, but the Prince was already in his saddle and the others quickly followed suit and rode out into the misty and silent world of predawn.

They pressed harder than might have been advised at the end of such a journey with an injured man in the party, but all were eager to be again among the bustling throng of civilization, though more vigilance would be required on their part, even so there was a strange sort of comfort to be again among their own kind. Tabor fell back to speak privately with his comrades once they were well on their way; the Prince seemed lost in his own thoughts.

Said he with a rueful smile to his curious friends, "it seems I cannot even complete my first mission as a Messenger without again wearing mortal flesh, but at least I was struck rather than our dear Prince. It was some strange weapon of the Enemy, meant to send any mortal even nicked with the blade immediately into Eternity, apparently it has the opposite effect upon one beyond Time. But perhaps it is best if I am truly mortal again if I am to be ever at the Prince's side, I think he begins to grow suspicious of you and even of me in our more peculiar habits. He has noticed that I can go indefinitely without sleep and is aware that neither of you have taken a room at any of the inns the last three nights. There are enough dangers to him at the moment, it is not wise to cultivate distrust of those sent to protect him." The others nodded their understanding as Gyor turned back to see what the curious trio was up to, wondering if Tabor might truly be plotting against him, perhaps in repayment for his own disloyalty. As if summoned by the wondering look in Gyor's eyes, Tabor immediately left his companions and rejoined the Prince.

Said Gyor with some heat in his voice, "have you found better and truer friends than I then?"

Tabor smiled broadly, "nay Sire, we were simply discussing what precautions might be necessary as we return to civilized lands. You have always been my oldest and dearest friend and nothing will change that." There was such sincerity in the man's voice the Gyor almost believed him, but there was a small nagging doubt that would not leave the Prince's uneasy mind in peace, much like the mosquito that will not let the weary traveler sleep. Tabor could tell his friend was still of a disquiet mind, but further prying or attempts at calming his fears would only worsen his suspicions; the Prince would have to make peace with his own thoughts if the matter was ever to be resolved. The uneasy final leg of their journey was finally relieved by their sudden entrance into a large market town that had grown up around the capital city. There were enough distractions and potential threats lurking about in the thronging crowd that even Gyor's anxious mind was temporarily diverted from its previous suspicions. They entered the gates of the city proper and approached the great castle that towered over everything.

Tabor asked of his Prince, "have you the letter from the King and your father's reply?" Gyor felt his pockets and smiled to feel the crinkle of the letters, for they would serve as proof that they were more than the weary travelers they seemed. They had been in Tabor's keeping until Gyor felt they must trade places and so did they pass to Gyor with the rest of Tabor's paraphernalia, which as matters played out was a rather remarkable thing, for all of the Prince's previous possessions had been lost with Tyne's capture of Tabor. They rode up to the gates and the guards eyed them stonily, but as the captain read the proffered letters, his eyes widened and his expression softened until he looked up and bowed deeply to the common seeming man before him. A servant was immediately dispatched to apprise the King and his Steward, while the party was allowed into the courtyard that they might dismount and be allowed to rest and freshen up before their audience with the King and more importantly, the Princess.

The King had only one child, his daughter Alana, but the laws of Alaria would not permit her to reign as sovereign but her husband could be King and then she might be Queen. The union would make Gyor the future King of both realms and thus unite the Kingdoms. Of course another heir might be found if such a match were deemed unworthy by the King, his major Lords, or even Alana herself. In which case, the orphaned sons, twins, of the King's late brother, would be next in line for the crown, but he hoped his daughter would make a satisfactory match and thus unite the Realms and strengthen them both thereby. He had always maintained very cordial relations with Gyor's father and hoped the lad was half the man his father was. And very soon he would know of a certain. The King wanted to run and skip down the corridor in excitement when the servant announced the Prince's arrival, but forced himself to a more regal pace.

By the time the King, the Princess, the royal nephews, the Steward and various advisors, and the more important Lords had gathered in the main audience chamber, the Prince and his companions were cleaned up and ready to make their debut. The Steward had appeared almost immediately and after hearing of their harrowing adventures (and the much more disturbing loss of the royal luggage) had set every servant in the castle to work finding suitable attire for the much anticipated Prince. They had done their work well, for none could tell that the newcomers had traveled far and survived much in the previous days, rather they looked fresh from a pleasant morning's repose in the gardens. Introductions were made all around, with Bayard and Ithril being classified as some sort of squire-like retainers and thus worthy of little further notice.

The Lords took special notice of Tabor, at least those with daughters of marriageable age, but all and sundry seemed impressed with the young Prince, thus increasing the excitement and eagerness of all for the ensuing festivities in which they might come to make a better and more thorough judgment of the youth and his worthiness of the Alarian throne. After the requisite banalities and small talk were accomplished, the newcomers were dismissed that they might rest from their adventures and thus be ready for the evening's fantastical feast, which might last until dawn. They promptly withdrew, eager to discuss their reception and that which was to come. Once Tabor and Gyor were alone in their chambers, the former said with a smile, "the Princess and her father certainly seem eager to make your acquaintance."

"She is a lovely creature," said Gyor happily, relieved that at least his intended was a comely lady.

"That she is," said Tabor warmly, only too late realizing his mistake, for his friend's eyes hardened for a moment, as if a jealous or suspicious thought had suddenly entered the Prince's mind.

"I think," said the Prince harshly, "you had best leave. I wish to be alone that I might rest for the night's festivities."

Tabor tried to protest, but this only increased the Prince's ire, so he hastily bowed and left the room. He entered the chamber shared by his two comrades; they looked up in surprise to see Tabor, knowing it unwise to leave the Prince alone. Said he as he shut the door behind him, "I fear the Prince is jealous or at least suspicious of my or our intentions. He will not even tolerate me in his presence at the moment."

Ithril stood, "I will guard his Highness." The boy suddenly vanished and Tabor gasped, forgetting the otherworldly abilities of his new profession. The boy was no longer visible to mortal sight and the walls did not hinder him in the least; the Prince would not even know he was there.

Bayard smiled at his friend's discomfiture, "I forget this is still very new to you and that you are mortal again besides."

Tabor sat on the bed and yawned, "speaking of which, I think I had better get some rest too, if I am to have any chance of keeping up with the rest of you."

The afternoon wore on, Tabor slept while the Prince brooded, thus was he little refreshed when a servant announced that it was time to prepare for the feast. Shortly after, his companions inquired whether he would be in need of their company or service. He said bluntly, "I now have little need of your companionship or your aide, now that I am back amongst my own kind. I would appreciate that you keep your distance; if I need something I will ask." The door shut more forcefully than necessary, thus ending the conversation.

The three Messengers exchanged a worried look and this time Bayard vanished to keep a close watch over the obstinate Prince. The others made their way to the banquet, taking seats far to the back where they might not be noticed yet close enough to be summoned if the Prince should need them. The Steward tried to thwart the young Lord Tabor in his choice of seating, but he staunchly refused to sit in a place of more honor, saying that the Prince alone was deserving of such notice and that he was merely a companion and a servant and would not serve as a distraction. The Steward sighed and moved on to attend to other pressing business, but the Princess had overheard the conversation and drew near, accompanied by two young men her own age.

The proper courtesies were given and received on both sides and the lads were introduced as the King's nephews. Though the boys were twin brothers, they were about as dissimilar as any two people could be. The elder, Adok by name, was a rather silent and grim seeming young man while his brother, Aril, was an outgoing and friendly fellow who immediately took a liking to Ithril and Tabor, as did their beautiful cousin. Adok sniffed in disdain and moved on to seek more important companions after only a few moments in their company. Aril shook his head, "forgive my brother, he will not deign to speak with anyone less important than himself, often including me. Neither will he look with favor on your Prince, for he considers him competition for the throne and would above all else marry my cousin but she will not have him. She would take me instead, but I will not accept her hand if it means strife in the family and the Kingdom. Thus does he wait and we watch him, hoping he does not act on his baser feelings."

Tabor said in surprise, "why trust veritable strangers with such important and sensitive revelations?"

Alana said quietly, "you are the Prince's trusted companions and perhaps very soon ours by marriage, it is best you know how things stand so you know how to proceed."

Tabor nodded thoughtfully, "as you have fully trusted us, so too will I now trust you. The Prince has become jealous and suspicious of us of late, and will no longer even associate with us. He has been a selfish and childish young man as long as I have known him, but has recently shown signs of wanting to change, but has suddenly become afflicted with unworthy thoughts towards his one-time friends and companions. I do not know what will come of it."

Alana smiled nervously, "I had hoped better of him, but at least you speak of promise. Perhaps once he is more settled here, he will again relax his guard around those dearest to him."

Tabor smiled at her warmly, "you have a generous heart my lady."

She smiled deeply at him and said in parting, "I look forward to knowing you more my Lord, but I must now find my father and betrothed Prince."

They bowed as she left, but Aril remained behind. They looked at him questioningly and he said, "Adok is my uncle's favorite and no one else will be seeking my company this evening, so I might as well keep company with the rest of those in disgrace. Where is your other companion?"

Ithril said, "your company is most welcome. The Prince does not wish our company, but we dare not leave him unattended, Bayard is discreetly keeping an eye on his Highness."

Tabor asked curiously, "you do not seem overly troubled by the turmoil within your family? Most men would be furious that they could not marry the woman of their choosing because their brother wanted her, especially when it also deprived him of a crown."

Aril shrugged nonchalantly but he could not hide an eager smile, "I have my heart set on higher things than a wife or even a crown. My brother's avariciousness and cousin's plight certainly concern me, but I will not be ruled by such passions as many men might." As he spoke, he unconsciously ran his fingers over a discolored mark on his right palm that Ithril's keen eyes knew to be the figure of a Pegassi. So the boy was an uninitiated Messenger, that explained much. A chill coursed through Ithril's heart, then what of the grim brother?

Said Ithril suddenly, "if you will excuse me for a moment, I must speak with our missing companion. I will return shortly." The others eyed him curiously but nodded and watched him hastily leave the room. Tabor wondered what had so unsettled his comrade but knew it could not be discussed in front of Aril so he occupied himself in conversation until Ithril returned. The boy hastened to find Bayard, vanishing from casual sight as soon as he found himself alone. Bayard was not far from the Prince and neither was Adok. Ithril shivered to have his greatest fears confirmed, the King's favorite nephew also bore a mark upon his palm, but unlike that of his brother, this one was not a Pegassi but was some sort of snarling reptile. He was an acolyte of evil.

Ithril quickly approached Bayard and apprised him of the situation and then returned to his former companions. Tabor eyed him curiously but said nothing that might compromise their peculiar situation. Asked Ithril of Aril, "what thinks the King of the Princess' distaste for your brother?"

Aril replied, "he is disappointed of course, but loves his daughter too much to see her unhappy in marriage. He hopes your Prince will be an agreeable substitute and knows Adok still has a good chance at the crown even so."

"What will your brother do if the Prince is a suitable candidate?" asked Tabor.

Aril shook his head grimly, "whatever he deems necessary to procure his own ends."

"Can he be stopped?" asked Ithril grimly.

Aril said in a hard voice, "I will do whatever must be done to protect the Kingdom and my cousin from his treasonous grab for power."

Tabor said quietly, "you would kill your own brother."

Aril shivered, "let us pray it not come to that. Would you aide me were it necessary?"

Tabor exchanged a grim look with Ithril, who shook his head, "we will do everything within our power to protect your cousin, the Prince, the King, and both Realms, but you must understand that we cannot do anything to physically thwart the will of a mortal man."

Aril eyed him curiously, "a mortal man? What other sort of man is there?" The Messengers again exchanged a meaningful look as the boy continued, "I do not think either of you are cowards or lacking in the skill necessary to physically repel my brother, thus there must be something else that hinders your ability to aide me by such a means and as you are unwilling or unable to speak of it in my presence, I must be allowed to guess as I might."

Tabor smiled amusedly at the keen wit of which the boy seemed possessed. Ithril said with a slight but proud smile, "I have seen the mark on your palm and it is good to know you do not bear it in vain, but you must know your brother's hand is also marked, but with an emblem of evil. If he discovers your own allegiance, he can gain much by your death."

Aril sighed deeply, "I had suspected but could not prove it. You are sure?"

Ithril nodded, "without a doubt. Is he aware of your peculiar obligations?"

Aril smiled grimly, "he guesses as I do, but knows nothing for certain, but I think I had best act soon, rather than wait for him to make a move from which there can be no recovery."

Ithril nodded but warned, "you must act, but it must be justly."

Aril smiled at the thought that he might actually murder his brother, said he, "I will do nothing against our Master's laws and precepts." Tabor shook his head in amusement, at last understanding what Ithril's mysterious discovery had been and now listening to a discussion on the justifications for fratricide.

Their discussion was interrupted by a servant who bowed to Tabor and said, "his Highness the Prince Gyor does hereby challenge you to a duel for the honor of the esteemed Lady Alana." Tabor frowned at the servant in confusion, a duel with the Prince?

Bayard hastily approached and said, "the King's nephew has been adding fuel to the suspicious flames already burning in the Prince's mind! He thinks you are after the Princess' affections and the crown."

Tabor shook himself, hoping it was a dream but he did not wake up, he was still trapped in this unfathomable situation, but he knew what had to be done. He turned to the servant and said grimly, "tell his Highness that I accept his challenge but that there is no reason for such an action, but that his heart may finally be at ease, I will do as he wishes."

The servant bowed and returned to the Prince with his answer. Word quickly spread and all and sundry were quite eager to have the matter settled before dinner. It would be just the thing to commence the evening's festivities and would allow the Prince to showcase his obviously superior martial skills. Adok hoped either to dispose of his competition or permanently separate him from his only source of aide in this foreign land and thus have an easier time in the future of disgracing or removing his chief competitor. Not to mention he loved increasing tension and chaos whenever possible, especially between once dear friends. The Prince was already suspicious of his companions and even a little jealous, making him an easy target for Adok's fictitious suggestions regarding Tabor's actions and thoughts towards the Princess.

Underlying everything was the Prince's guilt and shame from his cowardice on the morning Tabor was taken in his stead, but he justified his feelings by blaming everyone else around him and inwardly accusing them of the basest thoughts and actions, thus were they rightly deserving of his baseless scorn and suspicion. He had convinced himself (with no little help from Adok) that Tabor was trying to usurp his position and thus had a right to challenge the man to a duel, feeling somehow that in winning said challenge he would put all of his frustration and shame behind him rather than heaping more guilt upon his already miserable soul. Tabor reluctantly faced off with his aggravated friend with the entire court watching excitedly all around them; Tabor noticed the sardonic smirk on Adok's face and knew the distracted Prince was a puppet in the vile man's hands. The Princess was nowhere to be seen and Aril watched stonily beside Ithril, little understanding how a man he had thought to be above such petty diversions could fall so easily into them.

Tabor knew himself to be a slightly better swordsman than the Prince, though he often held himself back whenever they sparred together, not wishing to incur the wrath of his Sovereign for winning too often, but at the moment he might as well have been fighting with a piece of straw for all the harm it would do to the Prince's physical person, not that he wanted to hurt his one time friend any way. He contented himself with blocking Gyor's attacks and awaiting the inevitable, which only infuriated the Prince as he thought Tabor was making sport of him, trying to further embarrass him in the eyes of all the court. Harnessing his fury, the Prince redoubled his attack and broke through Tabor's defenses and struck true. The force of the blow drove them both to the ground with the Prince landing atop his foe. Gyor struggled to his feet, his royal robes soaked through with the blood of his friend. For a moment only did he feel triumphant before the guilt and shame crashed in upon him with redoubled fury. He would not even look upon the shattered form of his late friend or meet the eyes of any of the onlookers who were, for a moment silent in astonishment at the violence of the man's victory, but as he gained his feet, they began to applaud and cheer for the victor.

Only Ithril, Aril, and one of the duel's officiates attended to the fallen man while all the rest went to congratulate the victor. The official examined the fallen Tabor and pronounced him dead, gave his two companions a mournful look, and solemnly withdrew, leaving the man's friends to make the necessary arrangements. Adok approached as the official departed, a look of pure malice on his face, said he to his aggrieved brother, "you should really not associate with such people Aril, it will only worsen your already poor reputation." His villainous smile deepened as his eyes fell upon the mark on his brother's temporarily unguarded hand; a thrill coursed through his heart, at last! Long had he waited for this chance and it had come in the guise of his own despised brother too! Continued he, "I fear I have been neglecting you of late. We have not always been the best of friends but you are my brother and I owe you at least a little consideration. Why don't we go hunting tomorrow, just you and I? It would do you good to get out of the castle and your time will be better spent with me than with these foreign rogues."

Aril did not like the eagerness that tinged his brother's voice nor trust this novel offer of brotherly companionship, something was dreadfully amiss but he also knew he should go. He said doubtfully, "my horse threw a shoe but perhaps I could borrow one?"

Ithril looked grimly at Tabor and said, "take his, as he will have no more use for it."

Adok tried to smile companionably but only managed to sneer, "very well, until tomorrow then." He turned and stalked away.

Ithril said to his companion, "come, we have much to discuss and had best get out of the way."

The servants were staring at the pair and their slain friend with rather annoyed looks on their faces, as they were trying to finish preparing for the feast and these young fools were taking up entirely too much room. The pair each took up an end of the slain man and carried him out of the room, much to the relief of everyone else, as now they were very much ready to eat and discuss the excitement of the day. Adok had returned to Gyor's side but the Prince could not begin to relax and enjoy himself until all evidence of the duel was out of sight. Once the festivities began and the wine started to flow, he felt himself very much justified in his actions and actually began to enjoy the evening. The Princess was called back and forced herself to look and act as if nothing of remark had happened, but Adok noticed that she was far from happy and he smiled the more for it. Gyor noticed none of this and the evening only proved to deepen his attachment to the Princess, though all she really wanted to do was return to her chambers to weep and never see this cruel and callous villain again. Etiquette however, demanded the opposite and thus was she forced to endure his company and smile all evening while silently dying inside.

They carried Tabor to a silent and forgotten room just off the kitchens and lay him gently on the floor. Aril turned to Ithril and said, "I do not understand?"

Ithril shook his head, "it is a strange tale and one I cannot yet tell you."

Tabor groaned, sat up, and said, "you might as well tell him. His brother knows what he is and tomorrow will seal his fate."

Aril stared at Tabor with a mix of wonder and horror on his face, while the previously deceased smiled back in amusement. Ithril eyed his comrade skeptically, "are you sure?"

Tabor stood and said, "there is no use keeping him in suspense or doubt for the next twelve hours when tomorrow will prove to be a rather trying day regardless." He eyed the speechless Aril stonily and said, "you have sworn yourself to this service. You know what tomorrow will bring. Do you truly wish to go through with it?"

The boy said, "I desire nothing else." Ithril nodded and Tabor recounted their strange adventures. The boy frowned as a thought occurred to him after the tale, "why offer me the loan of his horse when you knew he was not truly as dead as he seemed, especially if the beast is of the lineage you claim?"

Ithril smiled and informed Tabor of their conversation with Adok. He nodded and then laughed in comprehension, "the poor beast has been chaffing under his mortality, this seems a good chance to relieve him of it."

Aril gasped, "he is truly...!" The elder Messengers exchanged a smile, knowing how hard it must be for a young, mortal mind to wrap itself around all the revelations of the evening, even though the lad knew they spoke the truth and was himself sworn to this peculiar occupation. The boy sighed and then laughed eagerly, "I knew when my brother offered to do something with me it must be a trap. I know I ride to my death tomorrow, but greater adventures await thereafter. I even have a chance to thwart his plans once and for all."

Ithril cautioned, "he plans to use your blood to buy great and terrible powers from our Enemy. He is vulnerable until he completes their vile Ritual but that does not guarantee victory. The result may be that he becomes more dangerous and powerful than before. You might destroy him before he becomes what he hopes, but he may also have his way with you."

Aril shivered, "I had assumed victory would be on the Master's side."

Tabor shook his head, "nay lad, in this twisted and fallen world, nothing is certain save our Lord's offer of redemption. He will ultimately be victorious, but there are yet many battles to fight and our Enemy does not sleep. But we will fight nonetheless."

Ithril looked sadly at the boy, "are you sure you want to do this? You are only a boy and have your whole life before you."

It was the boy's turn to laugh, "you cannot be that much older than I and you went through with it."

Ithril smiled ruefully, "true, but one forgets how young and stupid one is in their youth, especially when it was not all that long ago! I do not regret my choice and neither shall you regret yours. Forgive my over protectiveness, this must be your decision."

Footsteps were heard in the hall and the door started to open. The Messengers vanished, leaving Aril alone. A servant looked into the room, bowed, and said, "my Lord, you are wanted at the banquet." Aril thanked the man and dashed off to the feast.

"What of us?" asked Tabor as the servant left and closed the door, leaving the unseen pair alone in the room.

Ithril shrugged, "you are obviously not expected at any of their future engagements and I doubt Bayard and I will be welcome, as we are undoubtedly even more nefarious than our late companion, so we had best flee the castle before someone decides we should meet a sudden end as well."

"Very good," said Tabor with a grin, "I will watch the Prince while you and Bayard make your escape. Be careful!"

"Certainly," said Ithril with a laugh, "it would be a pity for our entire party to perish thus."

So it was that Bayard and Ithril made their escape in the middle of the night during the height of the feast, and were reported as cowards and deserters early the next morning to Gyor who thought it excellent proof of his suspicions. Adok smiled to know the man truly alone and at his mercy. The vanished pair of course only disappeared from physical view, they had their orders after all. Aril felt rather abandoned as he drug himself back to his quarters in the small hours of the morning; he could not remember a more tedious and vain evening. He shut the door behind him and lit a candle to prepare for bed, and jumped to see a rather ghastly apparition before him, but relaxed when he realized who it was and what had happened earlier in the evening. Said Aril in some surprise, "if you can vanish when you wish, can you not at least reappear in clean clothes?"

Tabor shrugged, "a rather minor detail at the moment I think, but I shall attend to it eventually. I just wanted to let you know that you are not alone, even if you cannot see us, we are here." The boy smiled his thanks and felt a great burden lift from his heart. He saluted and said, "until tomorrow then."

Tabor returned the salute and repeated, "until tomorrow." And then he was gone. The boy shook his head, crawled beneath his blankets, and began to wonder what might happen on this doomed ride. Ithril stopped briefly in the stables to inform his Pegassi of what the morrow might hold. The creature did not at first seem pleased to be rented out like a common horse for hire, but the prospect of carrying a neophyte Messenger on his last mortal campaign struck the Pegassi as somehow poetic and he readily agreed to the arrangements, especially when there was a good chance that it would be his last mortal ride as well. No one slept much in what little remained of the night, for all had their own reasons to be eagerly awaiting the morning's ride.

Aril did not sleep at all and thus was ready for their excursion quite early, but as Adok was of a similar mind, he met his brother in the stables only a few minutes after he arrived. They were soon in their saddles and off ostensibly to hunt, but it was no deer that Adok intended for his prey. He had mentioned to the Prince that a certain hill had a lovely view of the Kingdom and that the Princess might enjoy a ride thither later in the morning. Gyor gratefully accepted the advice and was likely to be upon that very hill just after certain pivotal events were about to take place. Adok smiled to himself, knowing the day would be full of surprises to everyone but himself. Today he would finally get what he had always wanted and perhaps even more! His thoughts returned to the present as he led the way out into the burgeoning day. Aril was silent, busy with his own thoughts, glad that it was such a beautiful morning if it were to be his last under the mortal sun. He knew his brother would try to kill him today and knew he had to try to stop him from completing this hideous Ritual, whatever it was. But how to stop what he did not even understand? Whatever his embryonic plans or lack there of, the time had come.

The Pegassi screamed as he fell with a boar spear in his heart, flinging his rider against the great bole of an ancient oak that grew atop the hill with the fabled view of the Kingdom. The fall knocked the breath out of the boy and for a moment, stunned him. Adok dismounted in a leisurely manner and pulled forth his hunting knife. Aril lay still as his brother approached, feigning unconsciousness. As Adok knelt over the unmoving form and raised his knife, Aril leapt upon his brother and tried to gain possession of the dagger. The sudden movement startled Adok, who dropped the knife. Aril lunged for it and set himself in a defensive posture. Adok heard distant hoof beats and smiled as he lunged for his brother, this time unarmed but well skilled in hand to hand combat. Aril knew his brother to be nearly as deadly without a weapon as with one and knew he only had one choice. He raised the dagger and struck just as the King, the Princess, Prince Gyor, and any number of attendants crested the hill. Adok cried out in pain even as the guardsmen in the party jumped from their saddles to separate the struggling figures.

The King took in the situation and demanded of Aril, "what is the meaning of this? Trying to murder your brother?"

Adok clutched at his wounded shoulder and glared at his brother, "even so Sire! I feared that he had been spending too much time with men of questionable character so offered to go hunting with him this morning. I accidentally killed his horse when I threw my spear at a boar that had suddenly broken cover, but alas, the boy rode between my spear and my quarry. At least he was not injured but he was furious that I had killed his horse and so you found us."

The Princess gasped and Gyor shook his head sadly, as if he expected something of the sort all along. What could one expect from those who kept company with such rogues as Tabor and his friends? The King was quite fond of Adok and disinclined to believe Aril's side of things even in a trifling matter, and the scene before him did nothing to testify to Aril's innocence but rather condemned him as much as Adok's lies. "Have you anything to say for yourself boy?" came the King's gruff query.

The boy sighed, knowing he would only further inflame his uncle's ire if he tried to contradict his brother, said he, "nay Sire."

"A wise decision," said the King in a grim but satisfied tone, "if you had something against your brother, the decent thing would have been to challenge him to a duel if it was cause for lethal force, but alas, you chose the coward's way out." Gyor flinched at the last phrase though it was not directed at him. The King turned to Adok, "you are the aggrieved party in this matter, how should it be resolved?"

Adok shook his head in feigned grief, "were he a man of honor a duel might suffice, but he has ever proven to be a lout, vulgar and loathsome. I leave it to you Highness to decide his fate. I would simply forgive him and hope he would become a better man for it, but his pride and inflammable temper poses a risk to anyone who crosses his path, as I am today the unhappy witness."

"Well spoken and quite gracious considering the circumstances," said the King, well pleased with his favorite's dissembling, "let him suffer the usual fate of traitors, murderers, and thieves."

"Father, no!" gasped the horrified Princess. She looked hopefully to the Prince, "will you not speak on his behalf?"

Gyor shook his head and said solemnly, "it is partly my fault Highness in that I brought such loathsome men with me, though little did I know their character at the time. I submit myself to your justice as well, Majesty."

"Nonsense," scoffed the King, "each man must make up his own mind and act according to his own character. Aril has chosen his own fate, as have your disgraceful companions. Hang him!" This last command came with such vehemence that even Alana's tears were dried into submission as the guardsmen hastily prepared to execute their captive.

The great oak would serve well as a gallows and once everything was ready, Adok asked a favor of the King, who graciously allowed the injured party to slap the horse upon which the condemned sat, thus sealing his fate. Well pleased with the events of the morning, the King ordered his party to continue their ride, for it would be a pity to waste such a fine day, and so on they went, leaving the boy to hang forever as a warning to others who might think to try the same again in future. Once the others were out of sight, Tabor again became visible to mortal eye and the dead horse heaved himself to his feet. The Pegassi blew out his nostrils in disgust as Tabor cut the rope. "What a horrid way to die," said the offended creature.

Tabor nodded in agreement, "that is why it is a death reserved for the worst sort of criminals and an end our friend did not deserve. Come, let us restore all things as they ought to be." He was soon aback the gory horse with his even grimmer burden.

The Elder met the scandalous looking trio on the grassy verge of a certain floating pool and said with a smile, "it seems the three of you are in need of a bath. In with all of you!" The man and the Pegassi exchanged an amused smile and jumped right in, Tabor taking Aril with him. The three soon waded to the bank where they exchanged joyous greetings with the newcomer and then each approved the changes in each of the others' appearance. Ithril and Tabor's Pegassi soon joined them, as did Aril's new companion. There were greetings all around as everyone was reunited, but they soon vanished back to Alaria, for there was still much amiss in that Kingdom.

Bayard greeted them enthusiastically, for he was far from glad to be alone with such a creature as Adok, whatever it was he had become. The King and his companions had returned from their ride with the exultant nephew in tow, but so far no superior fiend had come in search of him to complete his transformation, but he was expected any moment. But the moments ran into hours and the hours became days and still no vile overlord appeared. Adok's foul brooding returned with a vengeance, what had gone wrong? His instructions had been to find and kill a man who bore just such a mark. Perhaps that was the problem, he had not struck the mortal blow himself. Now what? He had waited years for his victim to appear and he had squandered it! But he could still become King. He was still very much in his uncle's favor and the Princess daily became less and less so, for she could no longer hide her weeping at all that had happened of late nor pretend to like the man her father wanted her to marry.

The Prince and surviving nephew daily grew closer in their confidences and soon found themselves plotting together for the crown. The Prince would marry the Princess and take her back home while Adok would ascend his uncle's throne. They only needed to convince the King that it was a very workable solution and much would he and his Kingdom benefit thereby, or at least so they said.

Garren and his Pegassi suddenly appeared on one of the tiny islands of rock that floated like stepping stones so close to the rim of the world that one could very nearly reach out and touch it. It was a strange place to have any business whatsoever, for the islands were merely floating boulders and the rim of the world was a sheer rocky wall that mounted ever upwards into snow-capped peaks. The distant thunder of the cascade filled the place with never ceasing echoes so one could not even sit and meditate quietly in this forgotten spot. His Pegassi turned his head to stare at him in perplexity with one great eye while Garren continued to scan the area for some idea as to why they had appeared in this particular spot and what they were to accomplish here.

Finally he found the reason for their coming but it felt as if a cold hand clenched his heart. He leapt from his saddle and raced to where the Elder was struggling with some unnamed fiend that had apparently crept up from the Underworld, but there was nothing he could do. The Elder managed to free himself from the creature's snaky clutches and fling his attacker into the bottomless Abyss below, but the damage had already been done. The Elder bore a vicious bite on his neck, had gone to his knees in shock, and his complexion had paled to a hideous pasty color.

Garren knelt beside his old friend, placing an arm on his back to help steady the shaky Elder, who smiled ruefully at his companion, "I have never seen one of the Messengers so shaken my friend."

Garren said in surprise, "you look terrible! I did not think it possible."

"It is improbable but not impossible," said he with a weak grin, "my people are immortal in that we do not physically succumb to age and illness, but we are not immune to violence or accident though seldom are we faced with such possibilities."

"The pool?" asked Garren hopefully.

The Elder shook his head and laughed weakly, "nay lad, I am no Messenger, rather I will enter Eternity a tad earlier than I had intended."

Garren frowned, "then who will superintend the Messengers?"

The fading Elder's smile deepened, "that is why you are here."

Garren's jaw dropped, "me?"

The Elder coughed a laugh, "you were the first and now will be the foremost."

Garren said sadly, "there is nothing to be done?"

The little old man shook his head but smiled eagerly, "do not weep for me lad, you are the one who now has his hands full. I am looking forward to my next assignment, now you had best get me to the pool."

Garren gave him a surprised look and the Elder gasped, "it will not be for healing."

Garren nodded solemnly and helped the fading man aback the waiting Pegassi, asking as they mounted, "what was that thing and what were you doing here in the first place?"

The Elder shrugged, "some washed up failure of a minion of the Enemy, resigned indefinitely to the Underworld, that decided to escape his prison." He looked grimly over the edge, "and now he will fall forever into the cold, dark of the Abyss, the eventual fate of all such rebels. As to why I was here, even I do not know the answer to that. Onward lad." In a blink, the Pegassi appeared on the grassy verge of the pond even as the Elder was breathing his last, "we will go in together lad and you will come out alone, Captain of the Messengers."

Garren sadly dismounted and bore the now unmoving Elder into the depths of the pool. For a moment there was a burst of bright light and the entire pool turned silver before fading to its usual crystal blue. Garren waded out of the strange water and climbed aback the Pegassi, who said jovially, "does this make me Lord of the Pegassi?"

Garren finally smiled, "I doubt it, but how does it feel to bear the Captain of the Messengers, whatever that means?"

The Pegassi snorted, "exactly the same, my esteemed Captain. Now what are the first of your sagacious orders?"

Garren laughed, "as usual my friend, you know far more than I so you had best lead the way."

"Wisely put," said the Pegassi, "at this rate you will make a fine Captain."

They vanished and reappeared on a grassy knoll overlooking a very pretty pastoral scene, as nice as any one might imagine in such a story. A few miles down the road they came to a rundown inn that looked quite out of place amidst so much bucolic splendor, but a lad came dashing out of the stables immediately to see to the needs of the obviously weary horse. "Well met lad," said Garren, to the rather surprised young man who was seldom spoken to in so civil a manner, if at all, save perhaps to have instructions or curses yelled in his general direction. "What can you tell me about this place and yourself?" continued Garren with true cordiality.

The boy stared at him agape for a few moments before finally realizing the gentleman before him was actually treating him like a fellow human being. Said he with a rasping voice that had had little exercise of late, "why would you care to know aught of me sir?"

Garren smiled, "I find the most interesting people in the world are those quite overlooked by society in general, and who knows more about the local inn than the grooms and servants about the place?"

"Well put sir," said the lad with a gracious smile, "I will do my best to explain, what exactly would you like to know?"

Said Garren companionably, "tell me about your upbringing, your current circumstances, your view of life, and plans for the future; if you have time and energy thereafter, tell me a bit about the proprietor and your life here."

The boy smiled from his heart, for since his father's death no one had ever seemed to care the least about him until this very moment, said he, "I was once of a prosperous family sir, not of noble blood but of an ancient lineage of great Knights. My mother died of the fever when I was quite small and my father never remarried, thus am I his only child. He was killed a few years ago, leaving me and all his fortune to my mother's brother, my only surviving kin. What came of the fortune I know not, but my uncle thought it only proper that I work in the stables to earn my keep while also sleeping in the loft that I might attend to the needs of his patrons at any hour of the day."

Continued he, "as to the future, I would love to become a Knight and ride forth on some heroic quest, but alas though I have my father's sword and armor, I do not have a charger nor is anyone like to hire an untested and unknown sword. I had to sell my father's horse for a pittance, for my uncle would not hear of keeping him. I still have the money but it would not buy an old plow horse let alone a decent mount for a Knight, thus I am likely doomed to spend the rest of my days tending horses at this ramshackle inn. My view of life you ask, what is it you mean by that?"

Garren shrugged, "every man has a way of looking at the world, judging what is right and wrong, a code that governs his behavior, even if he knows it not."

The boy smiled, "you will probably laugh or call my view quaint or foolish, my uncle does, but my father taught me of the Master and His ways and still through everything do I cling to and trust in them."

Garren eyed the boy sternly, "and what is foolish or quaint in that lad? It takes a staunch and courageous heart to cling to such faith in a day when most men laugh at it. How would you like to get out of here? I shall have a word with your uncle on the matter and perhaps we can find you a suitable mount, and I just may have an idea of where you can put your skills to good use."

The boy cautioned, "do not seem too eager or my uncle will refuse to let me go."

"I will heed your warning," said Garren, "but as you are of age, I think you should be free to go whenever you wish it."

The boy smiled grimly, "you do not know my uncle sir."

"We shall see," said Garren with a smile.

He walked into the inn and took a seat in the empty common room at one of the dusty tables. After an interminable wait, a tall, thin, and grubby man stalked towards his only guest and demanded, "what do you want?"

"Whatever you have will be fine sir," said Garren indifferently.

The innkeeper sniffed and stalked back to find something to serve the man, happy to have a chance to dispose of the dregs and drippings of some of his worst brews. He came back with Something in a cup, Garren was glad he was beyond death or whatever was in that mug might have killed him. The innkeeper watched in astonishment as the man sipped at and actually swallowed some of the nasty concoction, and after making an anguished face said, "well I did say anything would be fine didn't I, the more fool me. Now, sir, as you are the local innkeeper and no doubt wise in many things, I must ask a boon of you." The man's eyes sparkled in avarice as Garren spoke, he continued, "I need to hire a lad to run errands for me, tend to my horse, and that sort of thing. I travel a great deal and the pay will be trifling, but I am not a stern master and he could see the world. Do you know a local lad who might be willing to accompany me? I will make it worth your while."

The man looked quite eager for his while to be worth something and thought quickly of which local lad he would most like to be rid of. Then he smiled, but of course! His worthless nephew was the perfect choice. He said in feigned regret, "I suppose my nephew, the lad who saw to your horse, would be a suitable candidate. Of course he owes me much for room and board and I cannot just let him go for nothing."

"Hmmm," said Garren, "I am not sure. Is there anyone else? Why the lad is gigantic, he must cost a fortune to feed and clothe, no wonder he owes you much." The innkeeper quite agreed and was gratified to find one so sympathetic to his situation though in truth the lad lived on scraps, had never had even a new pair of socks from his uncle, and the man had squandered all his inheritance within the first month of his arrival at the inn.

"I suppose," said the man, now acutely aware of the expense the lad posed to him, "I suppose, that it will be boon enough to me to have him no longer dependent on me for room and board. Of course I would appreciate anything you could do to ameliorate what he has cost me these last few years."

"Of course," said Garren, "I hope this helps somewhat in your plight."

The man eagerly took the proffered coins and quickly dashed off ere the man changed his mind, saying over his shoulder, "the lad's in the stable, take him when you go." Garren shook his head, grimaced as he glanced at the vitriolic brew, and headed back to the stables where he met the eager boy.

"It seems you are coming with me," said the man, "that is if you are willing?"

"Good," said the lad, Kipril by name, "I am already packed, but I will need some sort of pack animal or wagon to carry my father's gear."

Garren smiled, "perhaps my horse would oblige us?"

Kipril shook his head, "I could not ask you to walk sir nor is your weary animal up for such a burden so late in the day."

Garren nodded, "we will not go far so I think he might oblige us." He arched an eyebrow at the Pegassi, who shook his head in amazement that he would be acting as a pack animal and then sighed in resignation. It seemed that his rider was promoted and yet he had been demoted, but he would do whatever he must in his Master's service. They loaded up the poor beast and began their journey afoot.

Asked the boy once the inn had vanished behind them, "how can I ever repay you sir and where do you intend for me to put my skills to use?"

Garren said warmly as they walked along, "you owe me nothing lad but I would that you served the Master with all your heart and soul and being, nothing will give me or Him greater pleasure and that is all the recompense I could wish for. As to what the future holds, I intend for you to free a country from the grip of evil, to defeat a dastardly villain, marry a princess, and perhaps even become King."

The boy gaped, "sir you jest!"

Garren smiled, "nay lad, that I do not. I need a man with your skills but above all faithful to the Master. Are you willing to try? It will be dangerous though."

The boy nearly burst with excitement, "why sir! It is just like the stories. Of course I will do it. But who would make a stable boy King?"

Garren's smile deepened, "only the Master would do such a thing and we can do naught but his will."

Evening found them on a lonely stretch of road and the boy in need of rest. Garren ordered him to bed and said he had a few errands to be about. The boy wanted to protest, yearning for more adventure on this already eventful day but he dared not gainsay his benefactor, so after eating something out of Garren's saddlebags he lay down and tried to sleep. Kyan and Griffin suddenly appeared upon the road and saluted their new captain smartly; Garren could only shake his head and smile ruefully, saying, "watch the lad while I attend to a few errands, the fate of a nation depends upon him." Garren climbed aback his Pegassi and vanished, reappearing in the sizable market town they would reach the following evening if they continued at their current pace. Though it was getting late, Garren found a horse dealer more than willing to make him an offer. He found an aging but sound horse that once might have borne a Knight upon many a campaign and another beast that would make a suitable pack animal. He paid the man well and gave him a little extra that he might pick them up the following evening. The man thanked him profusely and assured him the beasts would be ready at the appointed time.

He returned to camp and apprised the two junior Messengers of his arrangements and what must take place in the days to come. Kyan smiled as Garren prepared to leave, "will it not seem a little odd that you vanished in the night only to be replaced by two strange lads?"

Garren smiled, "just tell him I rode ahead to prepare everything for his coming."

Griffin shook his head, "as you say, Sir."

Garren eyed him sternly, but a slight smile ruined the effect, "farewell and guard him well!" And then he was gone.

Kyan was correct, Kipril was quite astonished to find his benefactor gone and two young strangers in his stead. They explained as best they could, but the boy was far from convinced but as he had little choice save to go on as before, they broke camp and began their journey anew. The Pegassi were reluctant to walk and have their masters do likewise but even more aghast to discover that they were expected to carry a burden as well, but they resigned themselves to their fate, which as they discovered was not actually worse than death. The young Messengers were surprised to discover Garren's strange promotion but instinctively knew his new role, and it seemed even he was not yet quite sure what to make of it, but all were eager to see what it would mean for the Messenger Corps. Kipril was at first silent, wondering about all that had happened to him in the last day but finally he could keep silent no longer, said he, "this whole adventure seems rather strange to me. What kind of decent fellows show up in the middle of the night to travel with a complete stranger?"

Kyan shrugged, "I know it seems strange, but things will only get stranger as the days wear on. Are you truly ready for this?"

Kipril sighed, "I hardly know but I will do my best. Was Garren serious about what he said?"

Griffin nodded, "if he said it, it must be true."

Kipril queried, "where are we going?"

Kyan replied, "Alaria is in dire distress and much has gone amiss there of late."

They traveled on all day, stopping only when Kipril seemed in need of rest or refreshment. As the day wore on, he began to feel more at ease with his companions and eagerly began to look forward to what was to come. He was completely taken aback when they entered the market town that evening and the horse merchant presented him with the charger and the pack animal; prepare the way indeed! They saw the boy tucked in at one of the better inns in town and then Griffin kept watch while Kyan vanished. He reappeared in Alaria, seeking out his comrades who were still watching and waiting to see what Adok and the Prince would do. Bayard met him eagerly and told him of all that had come to pass of late. The four Messengers assigned to the Kingdom were watching Adok, the Prince, and the Princess though they could do little but watch and keep the evil minions of the Enemy from interfering. As mortals, they must be allowed to think and act as they chose, but daily the King's will was gradually giving way to the thinking of his nephew and the young Prince. The Princess was very nearly in despair at the state of things in her family and in the Kingdom.

Bayard was quite excited when Kyan announced the imminent arrival of a young Knight who might set everything aright, and then Kyan asked after the Captain.

Bayard frowned, "who?"

Kyan said in surprise, "Garren, he said he would be here getting everything ready."

Bayard shook his head, "I have not seen him. The closest we have come to another Messenger around here is a young lord with a Pegassi on his palm that has come to study with the learned men of Alaria. I just hope Adok does not notice him."

Kyan said thoughtfully, "I suppose he will turn up eventually. Keep an eye on that lad, the last thing we need is another Tyne on the loose. We will be here by the end of the week if all goes well."

Bayard smiled, "I look forward to meeting your young Knight and hope he can do something for the dreadful mess that is Alaria." Kyan waved farewell and vanished back to the inn where Kipril slept on unawares and updated Griffin on how matters stood in Alaria.

The young lord Murdok paced the floor in the library, seemingly impatient for one of the ancient scholars of Alaria to continue his lesson, but the man had put himself to sleep mid-sentence and even now was snoring soundly in one of the dusty chairs that moldered in various awkward locations throughout the great library. Few save the scholars and their pupils ever haunted the ancient chamber crammed near to bursting with the writings of countless men from ages past, but today brought an astonishing personage into the musty room. Adok smiled slightly in triumph to find his quarry alone, he was curious about this visitor from a distant land and wished to know where all men of influence in the Kingdom stood on the question of the crown. He made the appropriate courtesies to the young Lord, who promptly returned them, then they drew aside so that they would not have to shout to be heard over the esteemed scholar's snoring.

"Welcome to Alaria my Lord," said Adok with only a mild sneer, "I have been wishing to make your acquaintance. I hope I am not interrupting your studies?"

Murdok smiled amusedly, "nay my Lord, we had just taken a little break. What would you have of me?"

"Nothing much," said Adok, studying the young man as a hawk studies a mouse, "I would just like to know your position on the current affairs in Alaria?"

Murdok shook his head, "I have no position Sir, it is none of my concern save as it affects your illustrious library and famous scholars."

Adok nodded curtly, "attend to your own business then and nothing more and I shall trouble you no further." His contemptuous smile deepened as he walked away, for he had confirmed what he had suspected after a glimpse from a distance. Alir had carefully hidden the mark on his hand, but this fool had not shown the least concern and it would be his undoing.

Murdok returned to his sleeping tutor, smiled amusedly down at the ancient man, and then silently left the room. He found the Princess alone in her small garden, save for her ladies of course, where she had often sought solace of late. Gyor had all but given up her company, for he found her constant weeping an annoyance and it sharply reminded him of things he was trying very hard to forget. He was still intent on marrying the beautiful creature and was certain that once they returned to his Kingdom she would forget her previous sorrows and blossom anew. She gasped in surprise to see the foreign young lord standing in the midst of her sanctuary, for she was certain she had the only key and had locked the gate behind her. Murdok bowed abashedly, as if he knew the awkwardness of the situation, which immediately won her compassion and put her at ease, little knowing how lonely she was in her grief and how much she longed for a sympathetic listener.

"I fear I have disturbed you Princess," said he with great concern.

She smiled shyly and said demurely, "nay my lord, I was just startled by your presence when I thought myself alone. How may I be of service to you? You must be quite lonely here in a strange land where all is amiss. I would warn you now to flee for your life sir, ere you are drawn into the evil here or destroyed by it."

The man bowed, "I thank you for your warnings lady, but that is precisely why I am here. You need someone to rescue you from your plight and save your Kingdom as well. It will be dangerous to all involved but are you at least willing to listen to my proposals?"

She gasped in amazement and for the first time in weeks, hope filled her eyes, as she said, "Sir, I have prayed desperately for nothing else. Anything and everything in my power is at your command, if it will free my country from the dark cloud that now blots out all hope and light."

"This then," said Murdok, "is what you must do. Go to your father and tell him as much as you can of your distress and the causes thereof. Declare that certain men have disgraced you and threaten the future of all you hold dear. When he asks what remedy can be made, demand that the champion of your choice be allowed to challenge these vile men in a week's time. You will agree to marry the winner of the tournament and to him one day will go the crown."

She stared at him in amazement, "would you be so bold a champion sir?"

Murdok shook his head, "nay lady, but such a man rides hither as we speak."

"But," said she, "what if either my cousin or the vile prince win the day?"

Murdok said sadly, "are you in any worse a state than you are at this moment?"

She thought deeply for a few moments, wrestling with her heart, and a determined hope entered her once despairing eyes, "I will do it. As I cannot risk my life in challenging these usurpers, at least I can risk my heart to save all I hold dear. I will go to my father at once."

Murdok bowed deeply as the lady made ready to leave the garden, "if you have any questions or simply need someone to listen lady, I am ever at the ready." She made him a splendid curtsy, smiled her thanks, and went to prepare for an audience with her father.

The King was speechless when his daughter came before him to plead her case. His heart was still hers, beneath all the crusts and molds that had grown over it of late and he could not but assent to her pleas as right and proper. He summoned his nephew and the Prince and told them of the girl's proposal. They were shocked that the timid creature had such nerve, but also quite eager to participate, as it would certainly expedite their own plans. The Prince asked suddenly, "I assume that if this unnamed champion is bested, we must also face each other?"

The King said bluntly, "is that a problem Sire? You could certainly return to your father and leave matters to fall out as they will without risking a hair on your precious head."

The Prince reddened in anger at the King's insult but he took a deep breath and said, "nay Majesty, I was just clarifying what would take place. I am no coward and will do my part." He eyed Adok with growing suspicion, "and I hope this does not strain our friendship."

Adok sneered, "there will be but one victor and the others will no longer have a use for friends. I would go put my things in order were I you."

"I see," said Gyor coldly, "so it is and thus shall it be." He turned to the King and his nephew, bowed curtly, and said, "until the appointed day then." He turned and left the room. Adok bowed to his uncle and left by another door. The King turned to the window and stared unseeing into space, wondering what had beset his thoughts of late and how it had come to this and if there were any rescue from this mire of his own making.

In the few days remaining until the anticipated contest, Murdok spent much time in company with the Princess, which cheered her greatly, as did having some salvation to look forward to. The Prince and Adok avoided one another, the lady, and the King, but both became incensed at the young lord and his meddling in affairs not his own, and both looked forward to making an end of the man once they had been declared the victor. The King noticed his daughter's joy in the presence of the young lord and asked her one day if this were not her champion.

She said in perplexity, "nay Sire, but he comes soon. I do not know why the young man will not fight, but I find him very much a relief compared to the company I have been keeping of late."

"As you wish it my dear," said the King in concern, "I just fear for him if one of your previous companions is victorious."

"Then I would fear for us all, father," said she grimly.

The days drug on for all waiting for the pivotal day, but at last the champion arrived the evening before the slated day. Garren had returned to the little company to tell them of all that was passing in Alaria and what was to be expected upon their arrival. Kyan and Griffin would happily act as Kipril's squires while the young Knight rode in in full armor. After a night's rest, the tournament would begin early the next day with the winner taking all. As Garren made to leave once more, Kipril asked of him, "will you not ride in with us?"

He shook his head and said, "nay lad, I dare not leave things unattended but I will await you in Alaria." The boy frowned, for the man could not get there very much ahead of them but when he turned to protest, Garren was gone. He gave his companions a questioning look but they could only shake their heads and shrug.

The much anticipated hero arrived but the Princess would have no chance to meet him unless he was triumphant on the morrow. She asked of Murdok, "what sort of man is he?"

Murdok smiled gently and said, "the very best and the only hope for the Kingdom."

The man went to bed after dining privately with his squires, for he wished to be well rested for the tournament after his journey. Adok and Gyor glimpsed him from a distance and spoke with the servants who had attended him and all they heard and saw convinced them that he was of peasant stock and not very much to be feared. The true contest would be between themselves. Gyor was not sure whether he would not rather lose than go on living in the pit of his own treachery and despair. Adok just assumed himself victorious and began to plot what would come after his triumph. He smiled darkly, thinking of one small pleasure he might allow himself before the competition, which would make his victory all the sweeter. As for the Messengers about the palace, they were ever vigilant and wondered over this young lord and his ability to shape events in such a hopeful direction.

Morning finally came and the much longed for event was about to begin. Adok drew the young lord aside and asked if they might have a word before he had to go prepare for the tournament. The library was empty at this time of day and Adok thought it rather poetic for what he intended. Said he without preamble, "I told you to mind your own business, but you have meddled much in affairs not your own. Now you must pay for your temerity. Long have I been looking forward to this day!" He grabbed Murdok's wrist and turned the palm upwards, that he might be certain of the emblem it bore. He laughed as he said, "but even if you had not meddled, I would still require your blood. This time there shall be no mistake."

The young lord did not struggle or protest or even cry out as Adok pushed him back into one of the decrepit chairs and drove a dagger into his heart. Certain of his success, he left to prepare for his second triumph of the day. Bayard had been shadowing Adok and was horrified but not surprised by his treatment of the young lord; he lingered a moment in the library with the murdered youth, not quite knowing what to do. "Do not just stand there," said a familiar voice, "we have work to do." Bayard stared in astonishment but promptly saluted the new Captain of the Messengers. Garren smiled at his flummoxed colleague, as he said, "quite a useful skill that, being able to disguise myself as a mortal man at need. I even fooled you!"

Bayard grinned, "I take it that Adok has failed again in his attempt to satisfy the blood price for his foul Ritual?"

Garren laughed, "he cannot use the blood of a man beyond death. Come!" They dashed out of the room, invisible to mortal eye. There was much excitement amongst the Messengers to finally be doing something besides watching events unfold, but even more so were they eager to have their Captain among them at last.

The King and Princess were ensconced in a booth with an excellent view of the field while the three combatants were quickly preparing themselves for the day's events. The Messengers were scattered about the crowd and field keeping a sharp eye out for any interference from the Enemy, all unseen save Kyan and Griffin. Garren reappeared as himself rather than as the mysterious Lord Murdok, who was never seen in Alaria again. He approached the eager Kipril to wish him well in all that was to come, said the boy, "I feared you would not be here or things would be amiss when we arrived, but things have been exactly as you have said, thank you!"

Garren smiled, "if you want to thank me, do your very best out there and save this fair land from evil men." The boy saluted, shut his visor, and turned his aging charger onto the field whence the judges had called the competitors.

Kyan asked Garren, "what happens now?"

The Captain said hopefully, but finished on a grim note, "they live happily ever after if the boy is triumphant, otherwise things will become very dark indeed. Keep an eye on the lad, I must speak with some of the others."

He waded into the crowd and caught the eye of both Tabor and Aril, they nodded and followed him to a forgotten corner behind one of the tents. Said he, "if things go ill for the Prince and the lord Adok, they may seek redemption ere the end; I want the two of you ready if they need someone to talk to at the last."

Tabor asked, "is it wise to reveal ourselves to mortal men?"

Garren said sadly, "as death approaches we will no longer be hidden from their sight, but perhaps you can do much to draw them out of the darkness and into our Master's light. The young Prince is eaten up with guilt and shame, knowing there is forgiveness and hope may be the key to snatching him from the Abyss; I do not hold out much hope for your brother Aril."

The boy nodded grimly, "neither do I but I will try."

The trumpet rang to announce the first charge and Garren said eagerly, "it has begun."

They left their hiding place, though Garren was the only visible one of the trio, and ran to the field to watch the outcome of the first match. Kipril had paired off with Adok and they met just as the Messengers reached the edge of the field. Adok's lance glanced off of Kipril's shoulder but the boy's lance pierced the villain's chest. The man fell from his saddle with a groan and a bevy of servants ran to the fallen man to give what aid they could. Kipril raised his visor, looked sadly down upon his fallen foe, turned his horse, and returned to the starting point for his next round. They carried Adok off the field even as Gyor hoisted himself into the saddle and rode out for the next round. Aril ghosted after the men bearing his brother and waited for the diagnosis.

The doctor looked him over, shook his head gravely, and dismissed almost everyone from the tent. Adok snarled and hissed so much at the physician that he too left as soon as he was certain he had done all he could for the injured boy, but it was only a matter of time now. Adok was now alone, as he wished to be. Where was the fell messenger from his master to deliver him from this death? Alir suddenly appeared to him and he raged all the more against fate and death and his vile master.

"No one is coming," said Alir calmly, "you will die."

Adok snarled, "at least such news comes from an expert in the field. What know you of my fate? I have struck a bargain that will free me from the maw of death!"

Alir shook his head, "the man you think you murdered to spare yourself was already beyond death; his blood counts for nothing. Will you die a heretic and face eternity alone?"

Adok laughed and laughed some more and soon his laughter turned to spasmodic coughing and then he lay still, exhausted and groaning with each breath, said he faintly, "I denied your Master in life, why would I seek Him on the verge of death..." He faded away and said no more. Aril turned away, overwrought with grief; Garren put a firm hand on his shoulder and led him back out to the field where the next charge was about to begin.

"You did all you could lad," said Garren quietly, "in the end, we each must make our own choice and it grieves the Master far more than us, imagine His own pain." The boy sighed, smiled weakly, and turned to watch the last charge.

Gyor's heart was not in the match as he spurred his charger forward and his lance sagged to the side even as Kipril's drove deep into his abdomen. The darkness claimed him and he knew no more. Kipril stripped off his helmet and was about to dismount and run to the side of the prone man, but the officials drove him back to the sidelines where the rules said he must await the results of the contest. Others would see to the wounded. Kipril rode back and dismounted, his heart aching for those he had bested.

Kyan said quietly, "for the winner you are in rather a quiet mood."

Kipril nodded, "I may have won a Princess or a crown or saved a country or whatever I am supposed to have done, but I have just killed two men! The second was not even trying, his was a suicide!"

Kyan said grimly, "it is far from easy being the hand of justice, but it was the fate they chose. They will have a last chance to seek the Master ere all is done." Kipril sighed heavily and allowed his companions to help strip off his armor as they awaited the final announcement.

They took Gyor back to his tent and the doctor again shook his head grimly, saw to his comfort, and went to speak with the officials and the King. The Prince lay insensible, a state he had hoped would last for all eternity, but all too soon his eyes fluttered open and he saw that he was nearly alone. He turned weakly to look upon the sole occupant of the tent and nearly lapsed into unconsciousness again upon recognizing Tabor. Said the Prince with a weak grin, "you look good for a dead man."

Tabor smiled and sat beside the Prince on the bed, glad to see that all his suspicion and jealousy were gone and the easy-natured banter they had shared as boyhood friends had returned. In reply Tabor joked, "and you look awful."

Gyor tried to laugh but only managed a wince of pain, and then he turned his head to look Tabor in the eye and very nearly wept, "I am terribly sorry, for everything!"

Tabor squeezed the dying man's hand and said, "I know, but it is not me to whom you owe an apology. The Master alone can forgive your wretchedness and in Him can you find hope, even amid the ashes and dust of death."

"Tell me more," came the avid plea. And so he did.

His wound was less vital than that of Adok but it was still fatal, but at least he had a little time to make amends to those he had so mistreated. Kipril was the first to ask if he might see the dying Prince, though it was highly improper for the victor to look upon his defeated foes, the boy could care less and wanted to see what kind of a man his opponent was. The Prince eyed Tabor with some concern as Kipril entered, but he shook his head slightly and put a finger to his lips; Kipril saw nothing but the stricken Prince.

Gyor actually smiled weakly and held out a hand to his killer, said he, "thank you." Kipril stared at him as if he were in a premortum delirium but the Prince continued, "thank you for helping me realize what a fool and a monster I had become. In depriving me of all mortal ambition you have woken my anguished soul to the things that matter most in this life and in that to come. I die at peace with my Maker and I hope with all mankind."

Kipril took the proffered hand, squeezed it, and said quietly, "a pity you could not come to such a realization during the prime of life."

Gyor nodded sadly, "I had a dear friend who tried valiantly to convince me of the same, but at least he succeeded before it was too late." Kipril bowed deeply and withdrew that the King and Princess might speak with the fading Prince. He smiled weakly at them both and said with tear filled eyes, "I am terribly sorry my Lord and my Lady, but I have paid the price for my folly and hope you can forgive me ere all is done. I have been a tyrant and a fool, but have at last seen the light and found the Master's hope. I do not die in shame or despair." They heartily forgave him, said their goodbyes, and withdrew. The doctor returned, examined the patient, and determined it would not be long.

Gyor sighed to Tabor once they were alone again, "I wish I could give my apologies to Aril, I should have spoken on his behalf." Tabor smiled and a moment later the boy entered the tent. Gyor frowned in perplexity and then smiled as he greeted the boy and then apologized for standing aside when he might have spared the lad.

Aril grinned from ear to ear, "rest easy Highness, for there are more adventures to come."

Gyor asked, "is that what eternity entails? Wandering about as disembodied spirits to calm your agitated kith and kin at the last?"

Tabor shook his head and smiled, "no, my friend. Most men pass either into the Abyss or enter the Master's presence at death. But there are a few of us who have volunteered to fight those servants of the Enemy which mortal man cannot defeat. I don't suppose you would be interested?"

Garren barged into the tent and gave Tabor an amused look, "I am supposed to be in charge of recruitment lad."

Tabor smiled, "sorry Sir."

Garren eyed the stricken youth, "well lad? Are you interested in joining us or will you pass beyond this mortal sphere?"

Gyor said quietly, "I appreciate the offer but I think this place is no longer my home..." He breathed his last and the Messengers withdrew even as the doctor entered to confirm that the Prince had expired. With the passing of the Prince, the officials proclaimed Kipril the winner and hastened to introduce him to the King and the Princess.

There was soon much celebrating in the Kingdom, especially once the King got past his shock that his new son-in-law was a peasant and a groom at that, but the entire country felt as if a great, dark cloud had lifted off their souls and there had never been such a joyous celebration in the entire history of the Realm. The King drew Kipril aside for a time during the days' long carousal and told all that happened in the days leading up to recent events. Kipril introduced him to the Master and His hope and soon the tears came and the healing began. It was not long after that the couple was married and a new era began in the once moldering Kingdom. The King was so excited about his new faith that he soon began to proclaim it to anyone and everyone he met, so much so that he soon retired his crown and went on the road to proclaim his message. So astonished were the people that they actually listened and received his message with joy and thus began a revival in that once grim country. The new King and Queen ruled long over a peaceful and thriving Kingdom and so did their children to the fourth generation, but that is quite another story. One happy ending achieved, there are many others to be attempted.

Tabor felt a great need to bear his deceased friend home and to tell of all that had happened in Alaria of late. Bayard gladly accompanied him while the others dispersed about other pressing errands. Posing as a Lord of Itharia and his faithful servant about to return home, it was not difficult to obtain permission from the King of Alaria, along with a letter of condolence to Gyor's father, to bear the dead Prince home. All hoped that the untimely demise of the young Prince would not cause an international crisis, but as the boy had died in voluntary combat, it was likely to be seen as a matter of private honor rather than an incident to ignite a war. Once well out of the city, the Pegassi shifted slightly and they were immediately in Itharia. The poor pack animal bearing the late Prince was not sure what to think, so bore it as he did everything else, with decided indifference, a trait which made this animal worth his weight in gold. They were no longer a faux Lord and his servant but rather Tabor was again himself and Bayard a lordly companion met in Alaria. They immediately applied to the King (a move which vexed Tabor's father greatly) and informed him of events in Alaria.

He read the letter and kept gaping in disbelief between these harbingers of doom and the letter that bore similar tidings. Finally he contained his shock and said rather gruffly, "so it is, I suppose I cannot hold Alaria responsible for my son's reckless actions. Gyor's younger brother will be quite happy, as now he is heir to the throne. At least someone will find joy in this circumstance." Tabor thought quietly to himself that the remaining young Prince would make a far superior King one day than his late brother. The King sighed heavily and said, "I suppose you must go see your father Tabor, but I thank you for bringing my son home and being such a friend to him."

Tabor bowed himself out and left the King alone with his grief. Bayard followed after like a curious puppy and together they went in search of Tabor's father, who had expected his son to pay his respects at home first. As they left the King, a short, shadowy figure passed them in the corridor, sneered at them as he passed, and entered the room they had just vacated. The Messengers exchanged a look of revulsion and wondered who or what this foul feeling person might be that he could intrude upon the King unannounced. "I do not like this," said Bayard.

"Neither do I," agreed Tabor, "we shall look into the matter further after we have spoken with my father. Perhaps he knows of this creature and his relationship to the King." They hastily sought out Tabor's father, but he was not in residence in the castle or even in the city, but had withdrawn to his family estates for a time. Grateful once again for the swiftness of the Pegassi, the journey took only moments when it once meant a full day of hard riding.

They were admitted to see the old man, who was ensconced in his study with various medical men around him, vainly seeking a cure for his gout. Upon sighting his son, he temporarily dismissed the quacks and looked eagerly to the boy, hoping to be the first to hear the tale of happenings in Alaria. He was not the first, but saved his scorn until the boy had told all. "A peasant will sit on the throne?" said he in dismay, "what is the world coming to? You could have entered the lists and won the Princess!"

Tabor shook his head, "such is not for me, Sir."

The old man scoffed, "well, you always have been a disappointment, and now you cannot even claim friendship with the crown Prince as an asset in your favor. You are useless, boy, useless!"

Tabor bowed in acquiescence but said nothing until the man had vented his rage and sat down wearily. Said the boy at last, "when we left the King there was a short man with an evil look about him who went in to the King unannounced. Have you any idea who it could be?"

The aging lord snarled, "some new advisor of the King's, he is even more useless than you. No one knows where he came from or what his qualifications are, but he is certainly not of noble blood and therefore has no right to be advising the King. But the King insists that the creature hang about, much like the pox to my mind, but one cannot gainsay the King in such matters. I cannot stand the creature personally and he is the reason I left, that and my gout was flaring up. The King has no time for anyone but him. Perhaps you should go back to the castle and leave an old man in peace, maybe you could gain the friendship of the new crown prince or something useful?" Tabor bowed, hiding a smile, said his farewells, and told the hedge doctors that his father would see them once more as he withdrew.

They swiftly returned to the castle, eager to know more of this vile advisor to the King and as it turned out, he was just as eager to speak to them of happenings in Alaria. A servant found them in the stables upon their return and asked if they might not join the most esteemed Ickor for a private chat. They agreed and hastened after the servant to wait upon this most interesting person. The servant left them in the sitting room of the man's extensive chambers and he soon joined them, arrayed in his regal best while the Messengers were clad as men who had spent the day outdoors in muddy weather. He enjoyed the contrast immensely. Said he without preamble, "I have long wished to make your acquaintance my Lord Tabor, a pity I never will have a chance to meet the late Prince. Can you tell me more of all that happened in Alaria?"

Tabor seated himself and Bayard followed suit, which annoyed their host as he had hoped to keep them standing awkwardly about, but Tabor recounted the tale again, now well rehearsed in the telling. Said Ickor with some heat, "strange you did not enter the lists yourself?"

Tabor scoffed, "such is not for me, Sir. How come you to know and advise the King on so short an acquaintance?"

The man smiled proudly, "a man who knows as much as I about the world and everything in it will have little difficulty in finding a place of influence. A pity you will never know such renown." "But...," continued he thoughtfully, "your father is a very powerful man and you will succeed him upon his death. We could be very useful to one another."

Tabor stood, "I think not. Perhaps we have taken up too much of your time, Sir."

Ickor smiled contemptuously at his young companion's sudden agitation, "what will you do with yourself now, my Lord? I suppose withdraw to the country like your father?"

Tabor said calmly, "I shall remain here for a time."

"Do not meddle in the affairs of your betters boy!" snarled Ickor, "if you were wise, you would ride home immediately and stay there."

Tabor said stonily, "is that a threat, Sir?"

Ickor smiled eagerly, "nay lad, it is a promise. The King has no patience with those who meddle in his affairs, most especially upstart young lordlings looking to promote themselves whatever chance they get, even be it the death of his beloved son."

Tabor smiled ironically, "and how is it that you have advised the King to proceed in this affair?"

Ickor returned the sardonic smile and said, "war, boy! We cannot abide such an insult from Alaria, especially with a peasant on the throne!"

Tabor made to leave and said in farewell, "then Sir, be assured that I will meddle." He and Bayard withdrew to speak alone, leaving the advisor to fret and fume and plot as he would.

"I do not like this at all," said Tabor grimly, "this man is certainly evil but is he in the thrall of the Enemy or simply a mortal man looking to advance his own cause?"

Bayard shook his head, "I do not like the feel of him certainly, but I do not know if this is a foe we can manage. He certainly seems intent on removing any obstacles that stand between him and whatever he wants. Will the King listen to us?"

Tabor shook his head, "he has some uncanny ability to sway the King's thinking, we must somehow remove him from the King's side before we can have any hope of gaining the King's ear."

Bayard frowned, "murder would perhaps be the most expedient alternative, save that it is no option for men in the Master's service!"

Tabor grinned, "nay my friend, I do not speak of murder. Rather we will make such a nuisance of ourselves that the man inadvertently exposes himself as what he is. If he is a fiend with which we can deal, we shall not hesitate, but if he is a mortal villain, he will make it known to one and all."

Bayard smiled eagerly, "this will be rather amusing I think."

Tabor laughed, "that it will my friend. Come, we had better make a start before the King rides to war against his longtime ally."

They found a servant and asked if they might speak to the King. The man looked rather aghast but said he would look into the matter. He returned quickly and said in amazement, "His Majesty the King will see you once more, but this shall be the last audience allowed unless he asks to see you." Tabor bowed and the man hurried them along to see the King.

The King was still in the room where they had last seen him but he paced up and down, rather than sitting calmly in a chair by the fire as he had during their previous audience. Said he without preamble, "I suppose you have come to tell me the I should not declare war on Alaria or that Ickor is a bad influence? Well, so has every other person in the Kingdom, at least as far as my Advisors go. I do not understand it myself, when he is with me I think him the wisest person in the world and the moment he leaves I loathe the very mention of his name. But his advice is sound, at least when he is here. When he is gone I doubt even myself, thus I must rely on his counsel. I do not want to go to war, but he thinks it advisable." He frowned, "why am I listening to a man I loath? Who is King? Not he! This is ridiculous, what am I thinking...but when he is present I cannot think at all. When he is gone, even hearing his name makes me shudder." He spitted the pair with a stare, "I need to be rid of this menace and you two are going to do it else I will ride to war in spite of myself."

Tabor bowed, "we will do everything in our power to rid your Kingdom of this creature Majesty." For the first time in weeks, the King felt some stirring of hope and actually managed a slight smile. They bowed themselves out and exchanged an eager look.

Bayard asked ruefully, "I thought we were not going to murder the man?"

Tabor grinned, "no mortal man, save perhaps some sort of evil mage, can have such an influence over the King, therefore he must be one of our Enemy's pets and thus is he fair game, but if he is some sort of sorcerer, we can do him no harm. Come!" They drew their swords and ran down the corridor, seeking out their prey.

Bayard shook his head, "so much for subtlety."

Tabor laughed, "we have no time to be subtle but we have the King's blessing for outright murder, if necessary."

Anyone they met in the hall screamed and dove for cover and soon the guards were called to put an end to their antics, but they hastened on heedlessly. Their prey was not content to wait idly by while these young fools made a hash of his work with the King. He had warned them and in defying him, they had made a mortal enemy. He was indeed some foul minion of evil and a spider through and through. He leapt upon Tabor and bit him on the neck while Bayard raised his sword and vanquished the menace, but not before creature used one of its many legs to decapitate the young Messenger. They vanished together, leaving the senseless Tabor lying where he had fallen. The guards caught up with the hooligans just in time to witness the final confrontation. They had no explanation, except to say that the onetime advisor to the King must be some sort of villainous sorcerer who had kept the King in his thrall and murdered an esteemed Lord's only heir.

It was a grand funeral, even Tabor's father had to agree that perhaps at last his son had done something worthwhile in attempting to free the King of the vile mage's undue influence. The Prince and his friend were buried side by side with much pomp, though only the former rested in peace. Tabor awoke from the stupefying effects of the venom to find himself in a place utterly dark and confined. Realizing that he had been buried alive, he easily freed himself from what should have been his grave and returned to the world of the living. His Pegassi stood nearby, awaiting his emergence, as if he were some sort of pupating insect rather than a man entombed. They greeted one another warmly and vanished upon their next adventure, unseen by any mortal eye.

The years passed, as years do, but the Messengers little heeded the passing centuries, for them time was of little matter. Men continued to live and strive, as men will, and ever were the Messengers there to see that they could do so in peace, at least in peace from certain vile creatures of evil intent. One day a certain man busy with said striving, made a remarkable discovery: he discovered how to blow things up. After all, what is a story without explosions? So it was that man entered a new and more dangerous Age, at least it was a tad more exciting with the advent of gunpowder. The Enemy's minions were not long in devising new and vile strategies for this improvisation, one of which completely baffled Garren until he thought of the ramifications to the world as they knew it. He and his Pegassi suddenly appeared above the great cataract that fell endlessly into the Void, perched precariously on an outcropping of stone, far above two or three dozen vile creatures of the Enemy's make were busy with some project near the rent in the rim of the world. The pair knew they were not to engage, but merely observe the fell creatures, who seemed to be rigging up some sort of apparatus consisting of what appeared to be ropes and barrels along the gap in the stony ridge that ringed in the world.

There came a tremendous explosion and the breach widened a hundredfold, carrying all the vile creatures and an eager roar of water over the edge into Nothing. The Sea began to drain like an unstopped tub and in a matter of days, there would be nothing left of the great body of water but a few lakes and puddles. Garren shared a grim look with the Pegassi, with the loss of the Sea, weather patterns would shift drastically and no doubt drought would soon ensue, if not the utter collapse of life in the mortal sphere. Their grim look turned to one of eagerness as they suddenly knew the Day had come. The captain vanished to marshal his troops, little caring now that life as they knew it had ended, for life as they knew it had ended, regardless of the Enemy's plots and ploys. It was as if a great game of that rather boring (to Garren's mind) variety played endlessly between aging lords was in progress, the Enemy had made a daring move, crying, 'check!' But alas for him, it was his opponent who would say 'checkmate!'

Garren appeared upon the muddy flat that had once been the seabed and behind him gradually assembled a countless array of Pegassi and their riders, glowing to shame the sun, and any number of strange creatures from Beyond the Morning. Before them gathered a howling, ragged mob of disparate and loathsome creatures beyond description. The shamed sun, sank behind the distant mountains and fell into the Abyss, never again to be seen, at least in this story. An ominous full moon rose, the color of dried blood. The stars fell from their courses and went hurtling into the Void, after the vanished sun. The light of the Pegassi shone the brighter and Garren ordered the charge upon the hideous minions who grew bold in the unnatural night. The two armies clashed and one by one, the combatants vanished from the field and did not return.

Meanwhile, mortal men quivered in dread, wondering what had come upon the world, little realizing that as all tales, theirs too must End, and also forgetting that Happily Ever After was wont to follow. They had heard rumors that the Sea was dropping or had dried up entirely, they knew the morning rains were scant or absent and wondered all the more. Now there was such a hideous dread upon the earth that all mortal hearts quailed in terror. An eerie light shone in the direction of the vanished Sea but was soon enough put out, but then a great and awful shadow crept across the face of the world and vile laughter seemed to echo on the anguished wind that suddenly howled out of the Void. A little bird swooped into the grim dark, lit upon a stone, cocked his head, and the earth trembled. The laughter became scornful and mocking; the magpie cocked his head the other direction and the laughter became a keening howl of terror and despair. The night deepened to absolute dark and then to blinding day. Mortal heart soon found itself following that dreadful shadow into the Abyss or blinking in astonishment at this glorious new Day and all the wonders therein, of which this tale cannot even begin to tell.

Upon a Far Mountain:

It was a land of extremes in both topography and weather, as if the geography and climate of the place had been locked in a bitter disagreement since the dawn of time and all that could be agreed upon was to allow all sides representation in space or time, respectively. There were soaring mountains and highlands shrouded in mist and heather that looked down from their mysterious heights upon the rolling, relatively tame lowlands where agriculture and civilization flourished. Winter was a fickle mistress, bitter cold one day and burying the vales in voluminous snow the next, but neither was summer a season of mildness and balmy warmth, for at times her heat could rival that of the southern deserts and at others one might think winter's breath had come again. The people of that realm were as unfettered and wild as their homeland; sturdy, stubborn, and strong were they, and extremely proud of those very traits. It was into this stark country that the 'milk-hearted princess' came as a young bride and here where she bore sons to a King as rugged and untamed as the land he ruled. Though Queen, she was never accepted as one of the people of the land, and ever she dwelt apart, though she was publicly tolerated when necessary, mostly she was ignored and gradually she came to accept her social isolation with a peaceful forbearance.

Her husband was pleased, for she bore him many fine sons, and all but the second favored their sire in looks and personality. With so many sturdy lads to call his own, the King little noticed the pale milksop that clung wide-eyed to his mother's skirts and never said a word in his presence. His brothers hassled the unfortunate Bayard ceaselessly, as much as their mother would allow, but as they abandoned the nursery for the stableyard and their toys for swords, they left their milksop of a brother to his books and pursued those activities of which their father thought most highly: horsemanship and the warrior arts. So it was that the boy and his mother were left in relative peace and the Queen and her embarrassing offspring were very nearly forgotten, which was a blessing to the pair that still found themselves strangers in this bleak land, though one was a native born and the other had lived there for many a year. Her childbearing done, the King little troubled himself with the Queen thereafter and would certainly not lay claim to that unfortunate coward of a second child when he had six other lads to fill his hours and aspirations. So the Queen passed her fading years in peace, keeping easy company with her despised son, and they found much joy in one another.

But even as the lad approached manhood, the Queen began to fail and soon died, leaving the boy alone amidst a people he hardly knew though they were his own kin. His grief at his mother's passing was extreme, the sense that he had landed suddenly upon a foreign shore was baffling, and the antipathy shown by not only his brothers but his father and the entire court sorely crushed his already bruised soul. Worse, there were darker rumors abroad, of which he could speak to no one, but nobody bothered to lower their voices when they knew he was near and some even hinted at things best left unthought, let alone unsaid. The boy shuddered in horror and fled as fast as decorum allowed, leaving the bearer of such tidings to smirk after in contempt before regaling the entire court with tales of his cowardice. So it continued for nearly a month and the boy was beside himself, unable to sleep, eating hardly anything, and little daring to leave the relative safety of his quarters, but these reminded him too much of his loss to allow any respite from his grief. He might have gone mad or done himself harm had things continued much longer in this vein, but relief, at least of a sort, came at last.

Every spring, as soon as the passes opened, an old cleric came to the ancient castle perched in crumbling splendor among the mountains from which the King ruled the vast and wild country. Some might argue that having his seat of power in one of the large and prosperous lowland cities would be a far better idea, or at least more convenient, but the King had always ruled from this remote corner of the realm, and if it was good enough for one's father's father's fathers, then it was good enough in perpetuity. The King and his court had little use for meddling clerics of any sort, but the late Queen was of a queer and foreign sect that had accompanied her upon her nuptial journey and ever did she cling to the tenets of her heathen faith, even with her dying breath. The gods of wood, river, and hill were enough for the folk thereabouts, but the King saw little harm in allowing his lady her head in this matter, especially as she had borne him so many sons, so he turned a blind eye when the wandering ecclesiastic made his annual appearance at the Queen's behest, like some bird that returns every spring to roost in the same bedraggled tree. But with the Queen dead, the unwitting man might receive quite a different reception this year.

Bayard saw the man striding up the steep and crumbling path towards the keep and hastened down to meet him ere he came to mischief by inquiring of the wrong persons in search of the late Queen. The boy met the man before he entered the gates and was heartily greeted by the cleric, whose tone suddenly grew quiet with concern as he took in the wan, ragged creature before him. Without a word, the man turned abruptly up a path ascending into the spindly pinewood that clung to the hillside above the castle; the boy followed silently after. Once they were assured of some privacy, the man asked after all that had happened since his last visit. The lad at long last unburdened his heart, having had no congenial ear since his mother's passing. The man nodded gravely as the boy spoke but said nothing until the lad had trailed off into sniffling silence.

Said the cleric at last, "once I was loath to undertake such an arduous journey year in and year out solely for the sake of one poor woman, Queen though she be, but at her father's insistence and later with her beseeching request, have I faithfully made the journey every spring since her exile to this heathen land, and for both her sake and your own, my prince, I am glad that I have. Your mother's death saddens me, especially as it leaves you alone among such a wild folk, but these rumors you mention curdle my blood, yet you say they are not the worst of what you have overheard?"

The boy nodded grimly and the man blanched in horror. "What am I to do?" demanded the overwrought boy, "would my mother's kin take me in?"

The cleric shook his head sadly, "your mother was sacrificed in a political alliance and is spoken of as one dead by her own folk, her father's only concession to her fate was to insist upon my yearly pilgrimage for her benefit and succor. They would look upon your father's blood as your father's folk look upon your mother's." The boy nodded dully, feeling that his only, desperate hope had been stillborn. But the sage continued in a thoughtful tone, as if he spoke more to himself than for the boy's benefit, "you are intent on leaving however? It seems obvious your own folk have no use for you nor you for them. You cannot return to your mother's folk, but the world is wide and full of wonders, perhaps you can yet find your place in it? Remaining here will only spell your own doom or worse, and neither can these rumors be ignored as mere gossip. No, you must leave, and the sooner the better. But where to go?"

He frowned thoughtfully for a few minutes and his countenance gradually warmed until he was actually smiling as he said, "what say your folk of the ruins upon that mountain yonder, lad?"

The boy shivered, "they say little of it, but the old tales say it is a place of death and ghosts, where unholy rituals were practiced in forgotten years and never has the place forgotten the blood that was spilled therein."

The old man smiled wryly, "that is an interesting interpretation and I suppose not surprising coming from those who worship the minor fiends of field and wood. Nay lad, if there was any necromancy done there in past years, it was not done by the original inhabitants of that place. In a long forgotten age, it was a center of learning and wisdom, now it lies in ruin and even its memory is profaned. You could venture thither and see what, if anything, remains of the vanished past."

The boy smiled grimly, "let me guess, my father's forebears came to this place, claimed lordship over all, and didn't like anything reeking even faintly of knowledge so destroyed the place?"

The old sage nodded, "that about sums it up. They didn't exactly salt the ground but they dispersed the monks that kept the records, chased off the students, burned most of the library, and let the rest fall into ruin. Spreading a few tales of infamy and murder didn't hurt either. Now your father's folk avoid the place like a cat a puddle."

The boy smiled quizzically, "if there is nothing there and has not been for centuries, what then is the purpose in my going thither?"

The man smiled mysteriously, "I did not say there was nothing there, perhaps you will find whatever it is you need most, even if you do not as yet know what that is. At least it will get you away from here and your folk are unlikely to follow you thither without very good reason. You can always continue on your way after a brief visit, if it proves fruitless as you fear, it is as good a direction as any and will keep your father's folk from dogging your footsteps."

The boy snorted, "if they'd even bother."

The man said gravely, "they may care little for you as kith or kin, but I can see some of them trying something either for their own gain or simply because it would cause you misery. And do not forget the rumors."

The boy nodded grimly, "very well, I shall set off at once. Will you accompany me for part of the journey, wherever it takes me? I do not think it wise for you to enter the keep."

The man shook his head, "nay lad, I have done what I came to do, though not what I had intended when I left upon this venture. I'll make my way back to civilization by another road and hopefully draw any watching eyes away from your own retreat. This journey you must make alone." The boy bowed his head in assent, but a look of grief crossed his face for he felt as if he were bidding farewell to perhaps his last friend among mortal men. The man looked sadly at the lad and said fondly, "fear not lad, it will be well, though for a little while all seems bleak and grim. You do not go alone, no matter how alone you feel." With that, he embraced the boy and hastened from the little wood, hoping to draw the curious eyes he knew would be watching.

Bayard watched him wistfully for a moment, but knew time was of the essence and soon hied himself off into the wood, skirting the hillside and intending to cross the valley separating this mountain from the next under cover of the trees. Only one set of eyes watched him go while all others watched smugly as the monk fled back to his own country. The silent watcher went to make his own preparations, knowing full well what the fool boy intended, even if he did not know it himself.

Kyan began the ascent, his plain-bred head still dizzy from the unaccustomed heights and thin air, but he was nearing his goal and no headache or shortness of breath could keep him from finding what he sought, if only he knew exactly what that was. He knew he sought the ruins strewn about the side of this particular mountain, but why exactly he could not fathom; he just knew it was his destiny to find them. Huffing and puffing, he collapsed among the scattered stones that marked the beginning of what might once have been a road. He smiled wanly; he was close, very close. An involuntary shudder ran down his spine, he also knew this adventure might ask more of him than he was willing to give. He set a grim smile on his face, gained his feet, and prepared for his final march when an unfamiliar voice asked, "where are you going?"

The boy turned in astonishment to look into the eyes of a lad his own age, a highlander by the look of him and one who was well acquainted with grief. Said Kyan tremulously, "I was just going to have a look at the ruins up ahead."

Bayard nodded grimly, "can I come with you? I have a similar mission but suddenly feel my nerve is lacking. What do you know of this place?"

Kyan shook his head, "only that I need to go hence." He paused and added far more quietly, "and that it well may cost me my life."

Bayard frowned, "how can a forgotten rock heap cost someone their life?"

Kyan shook his head, "it is not the ruin but what lurks therein. It is whispered that some great treasure awaits those willing to give their own lives in pursuit of it."

Bayard nodded thoughtfully, "he said it was not an empty shell." He barked a wry laugh, "what have I to lose? Madness and death are all that I leave behind and only a cold, mean world awaits me beyond these mountains. Very well, let us see if this treasure will avail us."

Kyan gaped after the retreating prince, hastening to catch up, but finally they marched side by side to the very rim of the ruin. Enough stones still stood in their places that one could make out a circular wall of stone but little else remained of the ancient structure. An old man sat on a stone by the only entrance into the stony enclosure, wheezing over his pipe, said he, "it be death to enter lads, be sensible and go home lest your mothers have reason to weep."

The boys exchanged a grim smile and Kyan dashed through the gate, immediately falling forward and neither moving nor making any sound, but Bayard noted with some relief that the blankly staring boy was still breathing, if very slowly. The man blew out his smoke in agitation and shook his head, "what did I tell you? Come lad, at least help me tend to your friend here ere you make twice the work for me alone. You still set on doing likewise?" The man laid aside his pipe, took up a long pole with a hook on one end, and catching one of Kyan's boots with the thing, drew the prone form out of the encircling ruin.

Bayard stared in astonishment at the prone form of his former companion, who was as close to dead as a mortal being can get without actually dying. Was he willing to endure the same for an unknown and perhaps nonexistent treasure? Suddenly he was unsure. At least he could gain some time to reconsider in helping this strange old man see to Kyan. Between them, they hefted the lad down the hillside and into a cavern immediately beneath the standing stones above. Something rustled unseen above them and the man muttered, "settle down ye daft things, it be me." The man set down his end of their burden and unceremoniously swept a few bones that were slowly crumbling to dust from the top of a stone bier where they had lain for years beyond count. Happy with his housekeeping, they took up the inert Kyan and placed him on the bier, as one interred though he still drew breath, if barely.

Bayard studied the silent form for some time and then asked, "what happened to him, what will happen to him?"

The old man relit his pipe, took a good puff, and said with a shrug, "his spirit has fled, wherever it is and whatever it is doing is beyond my ken, but his body will slowly waste away to nothing until it is no more than those bones I just swept aside. This cavern is full of such relics in various states of decay. Is this the future you intend for yourself then?"

Bayard shivered, what did he intend for himself? What could be worth such a price? Had he anything to prevent him from finding out? Kyan had seemed drawn inexorably to his fate and Bayard was loath to admit, even to himself, that he felt an equally strong desire in the very depths of his soul, but had he the heart? Said he instead, "what is your role in all this?"

The man smiled grimly, showing a mouth missing most of its teeth, and took another draw on his pipe, "I'm the groundskeeper as it were." He glanced wryly down at the silent figure between them and said ironically, "or perhaps grave-keeper would be a better term. Come lad, make up yer mind, I haven't got all day. I have a nice little stone bed right over here, if that be yer desire, otherwise you might take yerself out of my sight and trouble me no further. Well?"

Bayard was still dithering when all conscious choice was taken from him. He felt a blade pierce his back and saw it emerge from his chest before he collapsed in an overwhelming flood of agony and blackness. He felt the draw of the standing stones now stronger than ever and knew it was now or never. With a sigh of relief or joy, he could not tell which, he consented to the Call and immediately felt his mortal shell fall away like soiled clothes and he stepped free, towards those mysterious stones that now glowed with a light too brilliant to look upon and live.

The shriveled old man puffed in agitation on his pipe, as if it could somehow calm his racing heart, though his terror did not show on his face or in his voice. The boy, still clutching the bloody sword, that had come up unannounced and stabbed the indecisive lad in the back looked enough like the murdered lad that they must be blood kin of some sort, probably brothers. Why were such tragedies always about brothers? The grave-keeper only hoped it was something between themselves and not likely to involve his own precious self. "Well?" demanded Tyne, in a tone that said he was used to being obeyed without question or hesitation.

The old man slowly blew out a ring of smoke and drawled in an even tone, "well what? This has naught to do with me, my lord. I just look after things hereabouts, if you have a personal matter to settle with anyone, that is your business and yours alone."

Tyne eyed the grave-keeper stonily and then studied his brother, who lay at his feet. Said he in some surprise as he saw Bayard draw a ragged breath, "he lives!"

The old man withdrew his pipe from his mouth and studied the prone form with a frown, "and he'll go on doing just that for some time yet, perhaps a year or more! The fool has finally decided."

Tyne stared at the old man, wondering about his sanity, snarled he, "what are you blathering about? What has he decided? How can he survive at all with the wound I dealt him?"

The grave-keeper shook his head, as if explaining something very simple for a fifth time to a rather dense pupil, "you've dealt him a lethal blow of a certainty, but that won't matter now. Death can't have him; he's beyond it. Eventually his body will die, they always do, but the part that is him isn't in residence any longer. I'm not sure if even cutting off his head would kill him at this point and I'd rather you didn't try. I've enough of a mess to clean up as it is."

Tyne growled, "you make no sense man! And I will do as I please with the boy and his mortal remains."

The man shook his head and glanced warningly at the ceiling where something moved and fretted in agitation, "they ain't my rules my lord, neither to break nor enforce. I merely do the tasks appointed me and no more, but it is unwise to challenge things one does not understand. I'd appreciate if you'd help me move him over to that bier over there."

Tyne was too angry and confused to make any protest and could only do as he was bidden, gazing futilely at the shadowed ceiling at whatever moved thereupon. The prone form neither flinched, moaned, blinked, nor moved as they shifted it into position, but lay silently breathing in a regular, slow, and ragged fashion. Bayard's chest was a wreck, there was no possible way he could have survived this long but he went on breathing as if it were the most natural thing in the world. After studying his perplexing brother without any astonishing revelations, Tyne turned on the grave-keeper, "what is this? The Ritual demands blood and death! How is it to be satisfied if the coward won't die?"

The grave-keeper shook his head in confusion, "he's as good as dead and you've certainly blood enough to satisfy a dozen rituals. Whatever you are up to, I think the price has been satisfied or as much as it ever will be with him."

Tyne suddenly glanced around the cavern and looked upon dozens of such biers, each with an occupant in varied states of decay from the rather fresh looking Kyan to dwindling piles of bone that had fallen almost entirely to dust. He smiled in spite of himself, what a perfectly ghastly collection, perhaps this was an even better fate for his despised brother than a quick and violent death. Said he grimly, "I seek to fulfill the Ritual that my reign might be as glorious and successful as that of my father. The hill gods demand blood as the price for their blessing and this have I spilled; that my despised brother will rot while he lives, forgotten under a cursed ruin makes it all the sweeter."

Tyne turned on his heel and marched triumphantly from the cavern; the grave-keeper shuddered to think such a heartless wretch would be the next king. Tyne marched home and proclaimed triumphantly to his father and all the court, "it is done!" There was much rejoicing and no little feasting in the following days as the King's heir was now assured of a long and glorious reign.

The Light drew him like a moth to the flame, as the loved to the beloved. Ever afterwards he could not quite say what happened, save that that all too glorious luminescence engulfed him, overwhelmed him, consumed him utterly yet he remained unalterably himself though purified, as through fire, all the imperfections, guilt, sin, and sorrow of which he was formerly possessed were burned away in the wonder of that Light until all he knew were awe, joy, peace, wonder, and a reverent fear. He awoke, or rather became aware of something other than the Light, on the hillside below the standing stones, not far from the entrance to the Cave of Dust, the burial chamber wherein lay the mortal remains of all who heeded this strange Calling. He glanced around blurrily at first, little heeding the mortal world after what he had just experienced, but gradually recognition dawned, though comprehension was longer in coming.

He had no corporeal form, he felt fully himself and seemed to have minute control over his being, but it currently inhabited no form to give it substance or function in the mortal sphere. This would never do. He had work to do and could accomplish nothing in his current manifestation, or lack thereof. If one had eyes to see, one might have noticed something like moonlight wandering inexplicably abroad on the hillside in the middle of the afternoon. This errant light soon gathered little tendrils of mist about itself, another oddity in the midst of a sunny day, but even so that is exactly what appeared to be happening. And this did the astonished Bayard weave about himself as if he had been doing it all his life until he again had some guise with which to walk abroad under sun and star. He smiled wryly as he studied his handiwork, he would be fooling no one in such a guise, but then he also knew himself invisible to mortal eyes and then wondered why that thought perturbed him.

"Not bad," came a voice that jolted him out of his perusal and wondering thoughts. He smiled to see a creature like himself: a man wrought of mist and moonbeams, standing a few feet up the hill. He knew of a certainty that this other apparition was none other than Kyan, though how he knew he could not at the moment fathom. Grinned his companion, "I had feared you might have balked at the last, but it seems your courage did not fail you."

Bayard smiled sheepishly, "I did balk, dragging my feet to the bitter end when my only choice was the Call or death." He frowned quizzically, "what exactly are we?"

Kyan smiled, shook his head, shrugged, and glanced expectantly towards the crumbling ruin atop the hill. Bayard followed his gaze and watched in growing anticipation as a rather ordinary looking man descended towards them. The stranger stopped a few feet from them, studied them both with an amused smile, and then said in welcome, "well met lads. It has been a very long time since we have had new recruits, or at least since I had the privilege of helping them find their wings." He turned his curious and piercing gaze upon Bayard, "and you lad, have a peculiar and pressing assignment almost from the first. Usually we are assigned missions as the need arises, but yours has been written before the stars were lit."

Bayard blinked in astonishment, "prophecy! Me?!"

The man smiled, vastly amused, "you could have refused of course and then I don't know where we'd be, but you didn't so don't go looking all flabbergasted. Someone needs to accomplish history, even if it is written in advance. Come, the Dragon will soon stir."

Bayard stared at Kyan in growing dread, "dragon?"

The very ordinary looking man laughed but made no comment as he started walking, save, "come along lads, we have a prophecy to fulfill." They exchanged another astonished look and hastened after the man who was just vanishing into the Cave of Dust. They entered the cavern and found it already occupied, though the mortal thespians seemed completely oblivious to their interruption of the little drama that was playing out between them. Though Bayard was desperately curious to watch his brother and the grave-keeper try and understand one another while they dealt with his mortal remains, he found his attention fully riveted upon a darker blotch among the shadows in a far corner. He felt a strange sensation of epicness rising within himself and knew that here indeed was his destiny. Here was the Dragon, or rather what was to become the Dragon, though for the moment it was a mere shade. He felt the creature's gaze meet his own and its laughing derision as it recognized him even as he knew it; he knew it was not afraid.

He turned his attention back to his companions and the mortal men in their ongoing discussion. Bayard shook his head, completely perplexed by both in their varied excuses and explanations. At last Tyne withdrew triumphant and the grave-keeper stalked out to return to his watching and his pipe. Said their hitherto silent companion, "I will go occupy the grave-keeper so he does not inadvertently disturb something he would rather not see. You two settle things with your friend in the corner there." With that, he followed the grave-keeper out into the waning day and left the flummoxed neophytes to the wraith that was gradually drawing out of the shadows. It studied the pair with obvious derision but its eyes kept darting greedily back to the bleeding form lying inert on the stone bier.

Bayard spoke without thinking, the words coming as if he knew exactly what he was talking about, "you are not allowed within the confines of this place Shadow."

The shade hissed a laugh, "little do you know! Something of mine is here and I will not leave without it."

Kyan shook his head, "what has been interred here cannot be removed unless it walks out of its own accord."

Snarled the wraith, "then I shall not remove it but shall utterly consume it within the confines of this cursed tomb!"

Bayard shuddered, beginning to understand what this creature intended and that it was within its rights. Said he, grimly, "very well, shadow, do as you will with your own and then be gone!"

The thing laughed him to scorn, but even as it drew closer to the ruined figure on the bier, it became each moment less a thing of darkness and more and more resembled a mortal man. By the time it stood at the insensible head of Bayard's mortal frame, he appeared fully human, save for an eerie deadness in his eyes and an unnatural pallor in his skin. He gazed down at Tyne's handiwork in anticipation and then turned ecstatic eyes upon Bayard, "little do you comprehend the boon you have provided me! Such evil has never been unleashed upon the mortal world as you will now permit."

Bayard frowned, "what are you talking about?"

Laughed the fiend, "long have your forebears made bargains with lesser fiends, such as myself, that in exchange for the blood of their kin we grant them certain powers, protections, and influence thus ensuring a long and terrible reign. Your brother, at your father's behest, swore to give your blood to me, which he has accomplished, but he has done far more than even he yet realizes. While your blood has given me the power to become something more than a mere shadow, I am still for all intents and purposes little more than a mortal man in strength and power, but in spilling your blood he did not kill you though you are as good as dead. Since your mortal coil still lives, due to circumstances none of us foresaw, I can draw further sustenance and power from it and become something truly dreadful while you can do nothing but watch and threaten! My victory shall be sweet indeed."

A shiver ran down Bayard's spine but he knew the creature spoke truly, said he in disgust, "very well fiend, do what you have come for and then be gone. This place was not built to house such as you." The villain laughed scornfully but turned his full attention to the still breathing corpse before him as the two watchers looked away in disgust. The thing fell upon the prone form hungrily and quickly devoured the shattered remains of the former prince, growing larger and more terrible with each awful mouthful. Bayard felt something irrevocably shift within himself, as if a door had forever slammed shut and at the same moment, he knew he could now become visible to mortal eye, had he a wish, and had far more control over his physical appearance.

The monstrosity had grown huge indeed and looked far more reptilian now than human, it leered an evil smile flashing wicked fangs on a draconian head with glowing embers for eyes. He licked his gory lips and scorned, "well met wretch! I thank you for this feast you have so thoughtfully provided, indeed, I cannot thank you enough!" He turned his hungry gaze upon the form of Kyan lying undisturbed on its own bier.

Bayard said coldly, "be gone fiend, you have had your due and now you shall go."

The Dragon snarled, "I think not! There is another tidbit here that will increase my power tenfold. Stand aside and I need not destroy you." He glanced up at the Watchers with a mocking smile, knowing they chittered more in terror rather than in outrage at his disturbance of the dead in their keeping.

Bayard stepped between the serpentine monster and the senseless form, "you have no right to this boy's mortal shell!"

The serpent laughed derisively and darted towards the prone form; Bayard leapt atop the Dragon, which coiled itself reflexively about the fool like a great snake intending to strangle its prey. Bayard felt something inside himself give way and he lost all conscious sense of anything but pure and blinding light, he was nothing but light and then there was nothing at all. Kyan watched in astonishment as the two tangled for a moment and then both were utterly consumed by a burst of astounding light. When it finally faded, he was alone in the chamber save for the now silent Watchers; his mortal remains slept on untouched and oblivious. He smiled like an overjoyed child and melted into moonlight and mist, leaving the tomb and its occupants to their eternal slumber.

Garren stood listening intently to the grave-keeper, who leaned against the ruined wall, his pipe in one hand, as he told the strange tale of what had just come to pass in the crypt below. Said he in some awe, "never seen the like, have I! Neither did my father in his day nor my granddad in his. Awful strange, if you ask me, and I'm a man who has seen a strange occurrence or two, having the job I do."

Garren listened with half a mind as some innate sense he had no name for kept apace of what transpired in the Cave below. He felt the growing evil of the well-nourished Minion and then its forbidden intent to take that to which it had no right. He smiled grimly as he felt the creature consumed utterly by his Master's light. His companion was just finishing his recital when Garren interrupted, "quite a tale my good man! But I must bid you good day." He bowed formally to the gaping old man and then turned his steps towards the gate into the standing stones.

The old man bawled in despair, "no, don't! You fool, haven't you heard what I have been saying?" But it was too late, Garren stepped across the threshold but instead of falling prone, he vanished entirely from mortal perception. The old man could only gape the more and scratch the back of his ear with his pipe stem in bewilderment.

Garren ignored his outburst, smiling rashly as he did what he had done centuries before, but knowing he no longer had a mortal shell to doff upon entering the ringing stones he could do so with all the confidence of a man entering his own house. The stones glowed slightly with an inner radiance and the sand under his boots sparkled like so many diamonds with their own fire. He ignored the breathtaking scene and approached the center of the ring where mist and moonlight seemed to wander aimlessly about. He smiled in amusement, remembering his own early days of wonder and cluelessness about life beyond the mortal sphere. Said he with a laugh, "pull yourself together lad!"

The ragged strands of mist and stray moonlight suddenly drew together and congealed themselves into a boyish looking creature once more. Garren shook his head with a smile and said, "come lad, you can do better than that. The bond holding you to the mortal world has been severed, you can now appear to mortal eye in mortal guise if you should wish it." The wispy, luminescent creature suddenly became solid and the light vanished.

Bayard glanced at himself in pleased surprise, "why could I not do that before?"

Garren shook his head in amusement, remembering his own naive wonder, "you will eventually get the hang of this. While our mortal frames live, we are still bound, however tenuously, to the mortal world; we can in fact go back and live as mortals again, if that is our wish, though none ever has. It is impossible to imagine returning to mortal life after experiencing even the briefest taste of what lies beyond it, but the choice is there, at least while your mortal coil still draws breath. But we cannot take mortal form or appear to mortal eye while some part of us still lingers in the mortal sphere, but once that link is severed, we can no longer go back but we are also free of the restrictions that once bound us."

Bayard asked in growing eagerness, "who or what are we? What is our service? I understand none of this."

Garren laughed at his ill-contained curiosity, "we are called Messengers lad, men beyond mortality about our Master's business in the mortal sphere. If ever you weary of this life, simply return to these stones and pass beyond the mortal world once and for all, but while you linger here, ever will you have some duty or other to accomplish in our Master's service. Our main duty is opposing such lovely villains as you encountered in the Cave below, Minions they are called. They were once mortal men but have utterly sold themselves into evil and are strengthened by further acts of evil and the shedding of blood. So have your ancestors maintained their rule all these centuries when they should have been easily overthrown by their enemies or even their own people, but the blood rites they have performed through the ages have maintained their vile rule and allowed them to prevail by supernatural means against their mortal enemies. At least until now. Your brother thinks himself victorious, but the time has come at last for their rule of blood to be overthrown once and for all."

Bayard blinked in astonishment, "you want me to stage a coup to oust my own father?"

Garren laughed, "nay lad, we cannot ourselves move against mortal men or kingdoms, but rather you can remove the supernatural protections that allow their empire of blood to thrive when it should have long ago collapsed in on itself. The fiend that glutted itself on your blood and body has long been foretold as the harbinger of the end of your family's bloody rule. The Dragon will usher in the end of your father's realm, rather than bringing an era of even greater evil and triumph as they think it must. It is your duty to return home and see that the creature does not succeed in what it intends."

The boy shook his head in astonishment, but smiled eagerly, "to think that the least of all my father's sons will play a vital role in the crumbling of his own Kingdom; if he knew, I think he would almost be proud and acknowledge me at last as his true offspring." He shuddered, "though I have never sought such approbation from such a source, and certainly do not act to bring down his Kingdom out of greed or spite, but rather because it is my appointed duty and the only way to destroy his evil once and for all."

Garren slapped him on the back, "you will know what you must, when you must lad. And remember, you are never alone!" Bayard blinked and the man was gone, fading suddenly into mist and moonshine. He smiled and melted away himself, leaving the old grave-keeper alone to puff perplexedly on his pipe.

The moon was high and lit the thin fingers of mist that crept blindly through the little pinewood that grew upslope from the crumbling keep wherein all were making merry over what most civilized folk would call a tragedy wherein one brother had murdered another. As two men gathered themselves together out of the creeping mist, another manlike creature congealed itself out of the deeper shadows, but it had a certain serpentine cast about it that would make any mortal in its vicinity rather nervous but did not adversely affect the two strangers in the least, much to its annoyance. Snarled the snakelike Minion, "pests! Think you that you can do anything to thwart me? You are a mere nuisance!" With that, it slithered down the hill towards the keep and out of sight. Bayard exchanged a grin with Kyan as they too ghosted out of the wood and towards the castle. They paused on the edge of the copse and watched in amusement as their foe argued with the gate guards about whether he should be allowed into the keep.

They knew he could easily slaughter the unwitting guards or vanish from their perception and sneak into the castle, but he needed an official position within if he were to accomplish his goals. The Messengers exchanged a vastly amused smile and continued on their way, easily bypassing the arguing Minion and guards. The former snarled at them as they passed, hating the ease with which they infiltrated the castle while he had to plead with these mere mortals like a woman haggling over the price of fish in the market! He tried to contain his wrath and continued to press his case with these clueless myrmidons whilst his enemies vanished into the depths of the keep.

Kyan glanced about curiously, never having seen the seat of power from which the Kingdom was ruled with an iron fist; he was not impressed. His father was a great lord and a wealthy merchant in one of the prosperous cities of the plains; the least of his father's colleagues had a palace far finer than this crumbling heap of rocks. Said he in surprise, "this is the King's residence?"

Bayard smiled sheepishly, "in all its ruinous splendor. By the reckoning of the mountain folk, if it was good enough for grandpappy eight times great then it is good enough for us and our offspring for the next thousand generations or more."

Kyan shook his head in wonder, "no wonder they need blood magic to maintain their rule! I'll go scout about the place and find out what is going on, since no one will be able to see me I'll make a great spy." He smiled ruefully, "though that is about all I can do under the circumstances." He melted away like mist in the moonlight as Bayard scanned the courtyard, wondering what he should be doing.

His gaze settled on Firnan, the captain of his father's guard, and suddenly he understood. The man, if man he was, gazed directly at the boy with a knowing smirk on his face though he was currently invisible to mortal sight. He motioned with his head for the boy to follow to a quiet corner of the stableyard where they might speak without drawing notice. The Minion continued to argue vehemently with the gate guards, which seemed to amuse the captain no end.

Bayard followed after the man reluctantly, knowing he must but also remembering the hatred and disdain with which the man had treated him as a boy during the sword lessons his father had insisted upon for all his sons. They had come to a mutual, if unspoken, agreement that the man was ill-suited to teach such a lad and that the boy himself was rather an unpromising student of the warrior arts, and after three months of constant criticism, scorn, rantings, and embarrassment, the man had sent him back to his mother, promising to end the hated lessons and that he would never mention it to the King if the boy kept himself permanently out of the man's sight. A promise which Bayard happily fulfilled. The man was cunning, but thoroughly reprehensible, doing whatever he liked with none daring to gainsay him; Bayard had often wondered why his father kept the man around, despite his skill with a blade. He almost thought his father was afraid of him, if it were possible for the King to fear anyone. At last he had his answer.

They met in a corner of the stableyard with the stable on one side and the castle wall at their backs; the time of night and the ongoing merriment ensured that this forgotten corner was well and truly abandoned. Firnan openly studied the boy, to all appearances he was little changed from the lad who had run off into the pinewood two days ago with that foreign cleric. Bayard calmly endured his scrutiny as he never could have in his mortal days and returned the favor just as intently. He was still the same grim faced scoundrel with uncanny cunning burning in his eyes that Bayard remembered from his youth, but there was something more. His flesh had a waxy appearance for all of its apparent strength and toughness, and his eyes, though full of malice and quite shrewd, were also those of a corpse. He was no mortal creature, nor had he been the entire time Bayard had known him. He must be the fiend with which the King had struck his own bloody bargain in his own youth.

His perusal at an end, the vile man smiled sardonically at the boy and said, "you do know lad, that your brothers and father are even now celebrating your death?"

Bayard nodded, "I assumed as much."

"What are you doing here, boy?" asked the fiend in unveiled curiosity, unwittingly treating the boy with far more respect than he'd ever done in waking life.

The boy was astonished to be addressed as an equal by the man who had once terrified him far more than his father, but he soon found his tongue and replied, "evil stirs and I am bidden to stop it."

The man laughed heartily, "you? The cringing little milksop who could barely hold a sword without breaking into tears?"

Bayard said grimly, "things are far different now."

The man was nearly in tears at the thought, "ah, little milksop, what know you of anything? You wouldn't even defend your own life! Your brother said you were on your knees, begging! I've never heard of such a coward and you think to stop what is to come?" He fell to his own knees, clutched his stomach, and shook with laughter.

Bayard said quietly, "I never had a chance to beg, let alone defend myself. I was stabbed in the back ere ever I knew he was there. Who then is the coward?"

A few tears lingered in the man's eyes but he had regained his feet and studied the lad anew. After a long silence he said quite soberly, "perhaps I should judge the matter for myself rather than rely on another's account. What of the creature at the gates? Long have I been the only representative of my brotherhood in this place and loath am I to change that, but your brother has completed his own Ritual and his Fiend has come."

Bayard stared wide-eyed at this creature, his mortal enemy, yet he was speaking as he might to a respected colleague, or at least to man with a common enemy. Said the boy, "he is far more powerful than the usual wont of your kind for he has glutted himself not only with my blood but with my body as well."

The other hissed sharply with a sudden intake of breath, "what have you wrought?"

Bayard snorted, "me? I certainly had no conscious choice in the matter. Do you think I intended to have my brother murder me and then allowed some undead fiend to feast upon my bones? This disaster lies at the feet of Tyne and your fell kind, whatever you are."

Firnan shook his head in disgust, "you do not understand, this could not have happened had you had the decency to lie down and die like the countless victims of the blood rite before you. But no, you had to go poking your nose where it did not belong, meddling in things no mortal has any business knowing!"

Bayard shook his head and smiled wryly, "you are certainly one to talk!"

The creature no longer had a sense of shame, but he did remember enough from his mortal days to at least shrug uncomfortably and change the subject, said he, "whether it was your intention or not, the thing is here and it will want to have its own way, which as I mentioned previously, is not a circumstance I am willing to endure. Together we must find a way to keep it in line."

Bayard stared at the creature, "you are proposing an alliance with me? A servant of your master's sworn enemy, perhaps the person you most despise upon the whole face of the earth?"

The fiend shrugged, "we have a common goal. I do not necessarily say that we should cooperate but we can at least forgo our own inevitable dispute until the creature is dealt with. We can have nothing in common save our mutual loathing of this encroaching villain. Once the creature is out of the way, then we can begin our own little feud. Why let our enemy win by default by destroying one another when we can rid ourselves of the creature and then determine the winner?"

Bayard blinked, "you propose a ceasefire until the Dragon is no longer a problem? Are you not servants of the same master? In defying this creature are you not opposing your own master? You cannot think me such a fool as to trust a very servant of evil to keep his word!"

Firnan laughed, "nay lad, I have never thought you a fool, perhaps that is one reason I treated you so wretchedly in your youth. I saw the promise in you, even if no one else could and I also knew the waste it would be, what with your mother's corrupting influence and your heart as soft and malleable as her own. You could have been the greatest among your brothers, greater even than your father, yet you would not embrace your destiny but rather assumed yourself to be a weak, simpering fool, incapable of taking his rightful place among a people as wild and fell as a mountain winter."

Bayard shook his head adamantly and said quietly, "it is not weakness to deny evil and pride, nor to pursue that which is right and good and true, rather it takes a peculiar kind of strength, one that is foreign to the sensibilities of my uncouth and stubborn kinfolk. Who rejoices in the death of another, especially at the hand of his own brother? You cannot call so harsh and wild a people an objective judge of character!"

Firnan laughed the more, "no lad, you do not lack for boldness or insight, that much is certain nor do I call your folk morally enlightened, but then look who you are talking to! I only say it is a pity that such gifts as you possess must be wasted rather than used in service to my master, or even for your own petty gain, but then you wouldn't see it as a waste so we must agree to disagree. As to defying my own master, that is not my intention in the least. Unlike your wretched kind, who has no will or desire of their own but only that of your thrice cursed Master, my brethren often contend with one another for our dread lord's favor. We are as likely to oppose one another as to cooperate, perhaps more so. We each of us look out only for ourselves and our own best interests, unless we have direct orders from a source we dare not refuse that is. You can trust me only so far as our deal directly benefits my own best interests, beyond that, good luck!" He laughed uproariously for a few moments and then said with an occasional chuckle, "but then, getting rid of this super fiend is certainly in my best interests, so for a little while at least you won't have to fear me sticking a knife in your back."

Bayard nodded thoughtfully, "very well, I do not make any promises, forbidden as I am from swearing any sort of oath to anyone but my Master, but for now I will not treat you as my main adversary until our mutual foe is dealt with. I will, however, deal with you as I must if your goals or actions imperil my own duty."

The villain laughed, "now you sound like me! I will stay out of your way if you will stay out of mine, is this not the bargain we struck long ago when you proved so poor a student?"

Bayard smiled wryly at the memory, "that it is fiend, that it is and we both abided by it for many a year. To think we would be working together, or at least not intentionally working against one another, for any reason! I will apprise my colleague of our understanding and I would appreciate if you would do the same."

Firnan stared at the boy in surprise, "how did you know? Your youngest brother is coming along nicely and may make his vows to the darkness any day now. Should he join my brotherhood, I shall apprise him of our understanding."

Bayard smiled grimly, "I am not as blind and foolish as all my kin think me to be, even in my grief and isolation, I knew something was dreadfully amiss among my brothers but only of late have my eyes been opened to the full, despicable situation. Why would you cede your power to Tyne and his Minion when you could raise up one of your own from amongst his brothers? But this Dragon is but the beginning, I am charged with ending the influence of all such over my kith and kin. The kingdom must be allowed to stand or fall as it will, not supernaturally maintained by blood and evil. We may, for a time, ignore one another, but soon we shall be enemies in deed as well as in truth."

Firnan actually bowed formally to his young nemesis, "well spoken lad, it seems I have a foe worthy of my attention, at least in due time. Now what of this Dragon?"

The boy shook his head, "I know little enough of the matter, save it is one long foretold and I am the one who must oppose it."

Firnan scratched his chin thoughtfully, "I will have seniority but he has the power, I doubt he will long bow to my influence. He will urge his charge to come into his own, that is dethrone the King, and then my own place will be gone and he will be unchallenged. I will manage the King, you must take charge of the fiend, for there is little enough I can do against such as he."

Bayard said stonily, "it will be as it must."

Suddenly there was a brightly glowing apparition standing betwixt them and Firnan snarled, "snuff that light, fool!"

Kyan dimmed to near invisibility and alternated between a sheepish but anxious look at Bayard and staring grimly at the fiend. Said, said fiend with an ironic smile, "this must be your esteemed colleague." He laughed harshly, "easy boy, we are not overt enemies at the moment, though hopefully that day will not be long in coming, for we have a far more dreadful foe with whom we must deal first. Gadding about with all the subtlety of a shooting star while there is such a fiend about is far from wise."

The boy gaped between the Minion and his fellow Messenger, eager to tell all he had heard, yet uneasy in the presence of this sworn enemy. Bayard ended his disquiet by saying, "if there is something you have learned from the folk in their merriment, it can be nothing not known to our esteemed foe here, captain of the guard as he is. What has you so ill at ease?"

Kyan brightened considerably but he still seemed reluctant or uneasy in his spirit, said he quietly, "my sister is coming! She left home on her nuptial journey just a day before I betook myself into the hills, though I did not know exactly where she was going. I did not know my father had betrothed her to the crown prince! I knew it was someone important, but he was so far away and such things mattered so little to me, the least of his many children, that I never bothered to learn the full tale." He glanced at his feet and Bayard knew there was something more he was reluctant to tell. He looked up and gazed uneasily at their companion, who laughed derisively and took his leave, knowing full well that the boy would never speak in his presence. Once the villain was gone, Kyan glanced around nervously and continued, "I need to go back."

Bayard frowned, "go where? I thought your duty lay here?"

The boy grinned nervously, "it does, and yet I must return to the Cave."

Bayard gaped, "the Cave? Of what use can that be to our mission?"

Kyan studied his feet, unsure how to answer, "I will join my sister's company...as a mortal man."

Bayard's jaw dropped, "you would forsake the Messengers in the middle of so great a quest?"

Kyan shook his head adamantly, his eyes pleading for understanding, "not at all, I am not abandoning my Call, but rather this is the path laid before me."

Bayard smiled wanly in understanding, "a strange development indeed but I think I begin to understand the need for it. Can I do aught to assist you?"

Kyan smiled in relief and thanks, "I will need a horse, and perhaps someone to ward me while I attempt the unthinkable." Bayard nodded in grim amusement, assumed the guise of a castle servant, and hastened into the stable where he set about saddling a sturdy though unremarkable gelding. Kyan followed him into the stall and asked, "can we just ride him out of here bold as can be? That fiend is still at the gate arguing for admittance."

Bayard laughed, "we can take the horse with us in our usual manner of coming and going with none the wiser. The disguise is simply for the sake of anyone who might stumble upon us in the interim." The boy nodded and Bayard finished his preparations, took up the reins, and then all three melted into nothingness, the horse's cry cut short before he could do aught but whicker nervously.

In the courtyard, Firnan finally approached the beleaguered guards and told them to admit his fellow, which they did in grateful resignation. The creature snarled silently at them in passing but quickly turned his viperish eyes upon his fellow Minion, whom he studied with stony intensity. "Come," hissed Firnan, "we must speak."

The horse finished his terrified scream as they materialized out of the mist at the mouth of the Cave. The grave-keeper heard the unearthly cry and huddled deeper into his ragged blankets, praying to whatever gods there be to protect him from the terrors that walked the night. Bayard stood with the horse, nodded solemnly to his companion, who smiled rakishly and dashed into the Cave of Dust. The boy felt unseen eyes upon him and knew this place was warded against any who might disturb the solemn rest of those interred here for all time. He smiled in spite of himself, feeling as he had once, ages ago, when he snuck into the kitchen unbidden in search of some forbidden snack. But he was no naughty little boy on mischief bent, but rather a very servant of the True King upon an errand of utmost necessity. The silent Watchers let him pass unhindered, though certainly not unheeded, and he approached the all too familiar bier where his mortal shell eerily lay in silent repose. He took a deep breath, though he did not respire in his current state, and laid a slightly glowing, wispy hand upon what had once been his own forehead. He shut his eyes, concentrated, and gradually grew more and more transparent, until he vanished altogether.

The hitherto still and silent form groaned and laid a hand to his head, this time an appendage of flesh and bone. He sat up and studied his once familiar hands, feeling as if an age had passed in the short time since his interment in the Cave. With another groan, his body was not appreciative of being cast aside like a forgotten toy and then taken suddenly back into active use, he swung his legs off the bier and placed his feet on the ground, though he spent several moments gasping in pain and trying to steady his swimming vision before putting weight on his feet. Finally, like a newborn colt unsteady on its legs, he shakily made his way to the door. The unseen Watchers were suddenly uneasy and that knowledge struck the boy like a physical blow, something lurked just outside, something with an evil intent. Trembling more in exhaustion than fear, Kyan leaned against the stony wall, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever it was that awaited him without. He could walk out under his own power, but whatever was waiting outside was apparently forbidden from entering. He cried out to Bayard, hoping the Messenger had not already been overcome by whatever it was that lingered out there.

There came a flash of light and a deepening of shadow, he heard the clang of crossing swords, and then came a muffled oath, a moment of darkness, and the acrid smell of smoke. The uneasy feeling lifted and the boy felt safe in approaching the door. Bayard stood without, with one hand clutching the skittish horse by the reins and a radiant sword in the other. He smiled when he saw the tentative Kyan emerge, said he, "just our friendly captain, hoping to somehow avail himself of your tenuous position in a manner similar to that from which the Dragon benefitted so profusely." His tone became grim, "but he had no claim on you nor did our Master see fit to grant his desire." He smiled ruefully, "I barely managed to keep a hold on your horse in the meantime."

Kyan emerged fully into the moonlight and immediately sat down, breathing heavily, "I have already forgotten what a strain even the simplest movements are on a mortal frame!" He blinked, "should I be able to see you?"

Bayard smiled, his sword vanished, and he resumed an unremarkable mortal guise, "no, but then, you are not exactly a mortal man any longer no matter that you are currently clad in flesh and bone."

Kyan glanced wistfully back at the Cave, "in removing myself thus from the Cave, I will no longer be interred with our brothers."

Bayard snorted a laugh, "little enough that matters to our dear grave-keeper. He would merely sweep your crumbling bones aside in a century or two when he had need of your bier. It is not as if my own corpse molders away unmourned therein either. I think this place is so well warded to protect the world from incidents like that involving the Dragon rather than for the honor due our mortal shells."

Kyan smiled grimly and nodded, "you have the right of it of course, it just seems a little grotesque to raid my own tomb and see to my own disinterment." He laughed, "but whatever the Master's orders, gladly will I see them through, no matter how strange they might seem at the outset." He rose slowly to his feet, grimacing as he did so, but then he walked boldly over to the horse and flung himself into the saddle, with only a minimal amount of groaning in process. Bayard handed him the reins and slapped the horse on the rump, to which the gelding gave an indignant snort but readily carried himself and his rider well away from the strange happenings of the night: horses in general being philosophically opposed to anything out of the ordinary. Bayard smiled after his retreating friend and then melted into the night.

The two fiends withdrew to the same quiet corner of the stableyard the elder had so recently vacated, said he, "your charge makes merry within and will be disinclined to see anyone this night. I would advise you to await him in his chambers and there confront him about what is to come."

The other smiled spitefully, "you do not like me, an excellent beginning! You know I am the stronger, by far. I will destroy you, if you cross me little fool, so do not even think it. I can make use of you or you can destroy yourself, the choice is yours but I shall prove the victor." Firnan made no reply but the other could read the desperation and hatred in his eyes and this was answer enough; he laughed scornfully as he went in search of the prince's chambers. Firnan shuddered and knew he must do something desperate if he was to be an even match for this awful creature. A grim smile crept over his face, those Messengers were up to something, perhaps he could use it to his advantage? He melted into the night.

Kyan clung to the saddle, letting the horse have his head, knowing somehow the beast was going in roughly the right direction. The moon had long ago vanished behind the distant hills, yet Kyan could see as well as he ever had on a sunny morning, though swathed in mortality, it seemed he retained many of his uncanny abilities. He smiled amusedly, it was not as if he had freely chosen to again wear flesh. He sobered, knowing it would not be long and soon that choice would be forever taken from him. After, he remembered little, for he must have fallen into a dead sleep though how he miraculously managed to stay in his saddle he could not begin to imagine.

It was the horse suddenly stopping and giving a welcoming whinny that wakened the boy with the sun on the rise. He blinked blearily for a moment and then jolted awake, for in the valley below lay an encampment that was preparing for imminent departure. Before the banners were stowed away for the day's march, he caught a brief glimpse of his father's crest. His heart gave an inadvertent lurch and he urged the horse down the hill at a trot. The sudden movement drew the eyes of several of the armsmen in the company and they drew their swords and prepared to meet the approaching stranger. Kyan glanced down at himself and smiled ruefully, wondering what his father's soldiers would think of the worn and ragged figure that was their master's youngest son. He drew rein a polite distance from the encampment to await the coming guards.

They approached with weapons at the ready and stern looks of distrust and disapproval on their faces as they studied the scandalous looking character who dared approach the encampment of their master's most esteemed lady daughter. They studied him intently but no recognition dawned and their captain at last demanded, "speak rogue! How dare you threaten our lady thus!"

Kyan smiled in spite of himself and said, "easy captain, I mean you and yours no harm nor your lady the least dishonor. In truth, I am her own brother come with tidings grim indeed."

Several of the armsmen flinched at his boldness but the captain merely frowned in consternation as he studied the boy more closely, under the filth and rumpled garments, at last did he recognize the least of his master's sons. Said he in uneasy tones, "her ladyship will decide whether she will hear your news or not, until then I would advise that you betake yourself to the beck and avail yourself of fresh clothes." The boy nodded his assent and the guardsmen hastened to make themselves useful that the lad might finish his ablutions ere the party was ready to set forth.

In due course the lad was presented before her ladyship, his sister, in a far cleaner state than his previous condition but clad in clothes befitting a simple man-at-arms, for there were no garments within the company befitting his status for only her ladyship was of noble descent. She was just mounting her palfrey when word came to her of Kyan's presence and she ordered him immediately presented before her, intending to speak together as they traveled thus to save time. Once he had made the proper courtesies, he too mounted and rode close to his sister that they might converse together.

Said she in some surprise, "whatever are you doing here? I thought father had intended to apprentice you to a merchant oversea somewhere?"

The boy grinned sheepishly, "he did, but I was not thus inclined. I took to the hills not long after your departure and there found adventure far more strange and wondrous than I had anticipated. I have come now from the castle of your betrothed and bear grim tidings."

She looked upon him gravely, "has some disaster befallen my intended or his father's holdings?"

Kyan shook his head and said sadly, "nay lady, it is far worse. The man is a murderer and of his own brother no less. I would advise you to turn aside at this moment and return to the house of our father."

She gasped, "but this would break the treaty and might spell certain doom for our house! However am I to be Queen if I turn aside now? If the man has murdered his own kith and kin, then surely another shall ascend the throne and perhaps to him I might be ceded as wife even as my own intended hangs for his grievous offense."

Kyan shook his head, "nay lady, it will not be so, for I looked on as all the vile lad's folk toasted his fell deed and wished him a long and triumphant reign. His own father the King condoned the murder as necessary to the Kingdom's continuing survival."

She blanched, "but how can this be? Surely the murdered youth must then be a miscreant of the vilest sort?"

Kyan shook his head sadly, "nay lady, he was no villain and deserving of no such fate."

"It is but hearsay then!" urged she, "it cannot be thus!"

He shook his head, remembering the ruined form of his friend as it lay unmoving on its stony bed before the fiend fell upon it, "it is the very truth lady, I saw it with my own eyes."

She shook her head adamantly, "nay, nay, something is amiss! There is something we are overlooking or do not know, some circumstance that will justify everything. Speak no more of this to me, I will ask it of my intended the moment I arrive and he will give a full account of himself." She smiled in a hopeful, self-satisfied manner, "I shall be Queen." She urged her horse forward and Kyan knew himself dismissed; his heart breaking for the thoughtless unconcern of his sister and the havoc it would no doubt wreak not only in her own life but in those of countless others as well. Her ladies drew up around her in a protective bevy as he withdrew, leaving only the guardsmen to keep him company, but they were ill at ease in his presence, not used to fraternizing with their master's family in any manner so he held himself apart even from them, lost in his own thoughts.

They came within sight of the crumbling castle that evening and a rider was sent ahead to announce their imminent arrival. He returned in good time with word that they should make for the keep and would be feted and much welcomed once the lady had had time to refresh herself from the rigors of travel. She was quite pleased by this and ordered the party to comply, giving her brother a meaningful glance as her gaze met his. He shook his head sadly but she saw the resignation in his eyes and was content. She urged her mount forward at a ground eating pace and the others eagerly followed, hoping to reach the castle before the light failed.

They clattered into the courtyard and servants hurried to take reins and hand down the ladies who then whisked their mistress into the castle that she might make herself ready for the evening's festivities. Firnan watched their arrival with interest and gave Kyan a predatory smile when their eyes met, causing a shudder to run coldly down the lad's spine. Kyan was encouraged to see Bayard again, who seemed to be posing as one of the innumerable servants who kept such an establishment functioning. He glimpsed another shadowy figure as it vanished behind a stack of barrels and knew the Dragon was now officially ensconced within the castle as well. It would be an interesting evening, to be sure.

Bayard approached Kyan with a feigned look of perplexity, bowed to an appropriate degree, and asked, "might I be of assistance, my lord?" This last was said with a heavy question, as if he was unsure what to make of this man in a guard's uniform who held himself aloof from the rest.

Kyan gave his companion a wry smile, but said grandly, "that you may my good man, will you see that I am provided with rooms and apparel befitting the lady's brother? There seems to have been a minor upset in my plans and I am bereft of all my luggage and worldly possessions."

Bayard tried desperately to hide his amusement and said soberly enough for even the most grim-faced steward, "certainly my lord. Will you please follow me?"

They entered the castle proper and Bayard found an upper servant, who would never deign to mingle with the common rabble in the courtyard, and explained his lordship's grievous plight. The man nodded gravely and condoled with his lordship over the dreadful state of his current affairs and assured him that his every desire and whim would soon be far exceeded. As Kyan was led away by the still grimly encouraging figure, he flashed an amused smile over his shoulder at his companion before he vanished around a corner and was lost to sight.

"What are you up to?" asked the captain of the retreating servant.

Bayard stopped suddenly to confront the captain, "up to?"

Firnan chuckled darkly, "you are fooling no one. We both know who and what the girl's brother is."

Bayard shrugged, "it was not meant to be a secret. Our Master has His reasons and this is at His behest, I know nothing more of the matter; time must reveal what it will. But it would be best for everyone if the lady hastened away from this place, most especially for herself."

Firnan smiled grudgingly, "the plot thickens, this shall be an interesting tale to watch unfold. I must say, I never expected to be bested by the likes of you. Where did you learn to use a sword? It certainly wasn't anything I taught you!"

Bayard grinned, "I have no idea, it was certainly not a skill I possessed three days prior. But my Master provides what is needed when it is required." He bowed as a servant might and vanished about his presumed duties, leaving the captain scowling at his retreating back.

He hastened after Kyan and the doleful servant, having just thought of something most dire. Feigning breathlessness, he caught the attention of the pair who then turned to stare at him in astonishment, said he panting, "his lordship is utterly bereft of everything, even his valet!"

The other servant paled and turned horrified eyes upon Kyan, "oh, my lord! Can it indeed be true? You are not only without your luggage but have no man as well? What is the world coming to? And there are none fit to spare, I'd volunteer myself you understand, but my foreign ways would certainly annoy your lordship." He squinted at Bayard, "you boy, I've never laid eyes on you before. You must be rather new and therefore expendable...I mean you have not yet learned any bad habits. Why don't you attend his lordship as he desires until a proper man can be found?" Without waiting for agreement from either his lordship or Bayard, he continued on his way, quite pleased with himself. The Messengers exchanged a vastly amused grin behind his back and followed after in a most stately manner. The servant ushered them into Bayard's former quarters, which surprised the boy no end, but he hid it well as the prim servant said, "you will find clothes appropriate to his lordship's station tucked away in the trunk by the bed. If there is nothing else?" He bowed himself out and did not await an answer, prompting another exchange of mirthful expressions.

Bayard glanced around wistfully at the once familiar rooms and wondered if it were a slight to himself or to his 'lordship' that Kyan was quartered thus. A minor lord's son from an outlying district, even the brother to the crown prince's betrothed, could not rank high enough to take over the rooms of a late prince, unless of course the prince was held in disfavor and his rooms were likewise inglorious. He laughed in spite of himself, "these were my old quarters, which tells you something of how much favor they held me in and likely how much import you have yourself."

Kyan nodded thoughtfully and was pawing through the trunk, looking for something to wear, "and I suppose these are your clothes as well?" He pulled out a tunic and smiled, "I hope this isn't your best shirt?"

Bayard smiled, "one of them, why?"

Kyan shook his head, "I had cast offs far finer than this! No wonder these barbarians can toast your demise! This place is far from civilized!"

Bayard approached and rummaged through the trunk until he found what had been his finest clothes and held them up for Kyan to examine. He snorted, "I suppose it is better than a soldier's uniform, but even my father's upper servants are garbed in finer apparel!" He laughed outright, "I wonder what your folk will think when I come to the banquet garbed in their despised prince's formal best?"

Bayard shook his head, "it was not as if I was encouraged to attend state functions or what few formal festivities my father hosted. To their minds, my mother and I did not even exist, save as an embarrassment to be kept out of sight and not mentioned. I doubt they will know it was mine unless that servant starts gossiping, which knowing the servants, is guaranteed." He grimaced, "it will be an interesting meal then."

Kyan shook his head, but washed up in the water Bayard brought and then donned the meager formal best. Thankfully it fit well enough, though the material was far coarser than that to which he was accustomed and the mountain fashions were not exactly flattering to anyone, but they had not changed, like everything else in this place, since the castle foundations were laid. Kyan sighed, "at least I don't look like a man-at-arms any longer."

Bayard laughed, "you mortals are so finicky about your appearance!"

Kyan gave him a patient look but a slight twitching at the corner of his lips betrayed his smile and ruined the effect. Said he with a grin, "I will just need to find myself a valet who is not so glib with his tongue."

Bayard bowed stoically and said in a lugubrious tone, "forgive me sir, I forget my place. You southern lords are assumed to be quite free with your servants and I thought perhaps you would prefer it to be so with me. I will trouble you no further in that respect, if that is your wish?"

Kyan groaned, "I had rather have that other odious fellow attend me if this is the best sobriety you can muster."

Bayard flashed him a rascally smile, "I will fetch him at once my lord."

Kyan shook his head and sighed with only a slight roll of his eyes, but changed the subject, "had we not best go down to supper?"

Bayard said quite respectfully, "I only await your pleasure, my lord."

Kyan shook his head again and led the way from the room, though Bayard needed to offer quiet directions as they descended to the banqueting hall. They found the place buzzing with activity as the harried servants hastened to set the place in order and find food and refreshment for the ever growing crowd of guests. Kyan did his best to look bored and snobbish while Bayard followed him like a stuffy shadow. Kyan spent most of the ensuing hour exchanging insipid blatherings with whomever was close to hand until his sister made her grand appearance. Silence descended on the gathered crowd as she was announced and then introduced to her betrothed, who kissed her hand and gave her a possessive smile. She gave him the appropriate courtesy and then they approached the King, performed the appropriate civilities, and then entered the crowded hall to greet their guests, after which all were soon seated. Kyan was surprised to find himself seated next to his sister with her lord on her far side, but not to discover that his borrowed finery was nowhere near as elegant as that worn by the least of the hall's many guests. Bayard must have been a great distress to his royal father indeed to be so ill-clad when his royal brothers were all well, if antiquatedly dressed.

Once the meal had begun in earnest, Tyne at last turned his attention to his future brother-in-law, finding great amusement in the fact that he was clad in his cowardly brother's castoffs. Said he with a snide grin, "how are you enjoying our hospitality then?"

Kyan shrugged, smiled, and said something noncommittal before beginning an in-depth study of his potatoes. Tyne laughed darkly and turned to his lady, asking after her brother. She replied just as blandly and then, remembering her promise, asked after the fate of his own. He neither flinched in chagrin nor seemed surprised at her inquiry but said rather soberly, "it is well to have the matter out in the open ere the rumors grow too dark for a maid of your station to heed them in good taste. It was a regrettable affair, one never likes the inevitable outcome of such a matter, but things are as they must be. The boy was a worker of the black arts; he murdered his own mother to increase his power. The hill gods cried out in horror, demanding his blood lest their vengeance destroy the kingdom. So it was that I was forced to kill my own brother, but it was far better that than the alternative and he brought about his own deserved end through his many vile acts. Mine was but the hand of justice."

The lady's look of overt horror faded with a sigh of relief and was soon replaced by something that Kyan thought looked dreadfully like hungry adoration. Said she in a breathless whisper, "what a splendid tale Majesty, I mean...you handled the situation quite splendidly, it was a horrid position in which to find oneself. I am quite impressed." She fanned her suddenly reddening countenance and looked away, abashed.

Tyne smugly drank in the lady's undue adulation. Bayard, standing behind Kyan's chair, looked rather shocked at this portrayal of himself, while Kyan was doing his best to stifle an aggrieved outburst at this perversion of the truth, his meat was getting rather a harsher treatment than it deserved. At last, the lady had regained her composure and again faced this savior of the nation, "what a story Highness and quite true, I am certain, though I had heard it rumored otherwise. By my own brother in fact, he claimed to have seen the aftermath! But his own tale is nothing like your own. I do not know what he was thinking or thought he saw to fabricate such a myth."

Tyne's hawk-like gaze pierced the unfortunate brother, "you say you were there then? What did you see? How is it you came to be in that place and why did I not see you?"

Kyan dropped his gaze, intently chasing his peas round his plate, as he said quietly, "I was roaming the hills quite upon my own business and happened into that place. I did not see what actually occurred." He raised his eyes and looked sharply at the other, "but I did see the result and met your brother briefly in my wanderings and know he is not what you imply."

Tyne smiled wanly at the insolent creature, as one might at a cat one has decided must be got rid of in secret lest the owner take it amiss, said he with a dismissive tone, "little know you of anything, sir. I would advise caution lest worse comes of it." He returned to his meal and to entertaining his lady and said no more to the impudent boy, but he did exchange a meaningful look with the Dragon. The creature nodded once, smiled villainously, and withdrew into the shadows. The captain of the guard was also watching, saw the exchange, and left to make his own arrangements. The rest of the merrymakers continued on unawares.

Kyan continued his meal in silence; his sister occasionally gave him a reproving glance but otherwise ignored him. Bayard leant forward to refill his 'master's' glass and whispered quietly, "both of our dear Minions are up to something. This night will not lack for excitement. Hopefully each becomes entangled in the other's web!" Kyan gave him an eager smile and then both returned to their assumed roles.

There was to be dancing after the meal, but Kyan felt quite disinclined for such festivities and made his farewells to his host and sister, the latter nodding in approval, "I think it wise that you retire early, and would highly advise that you leave as early on the morrow as can be arranged."

Kyan bowed his head, "aye madam, after this night I shall not trouble you again." She nodded in dismissal and he withdrew from her presence, keenly aware of Tyne's hostile gaze upon him. He was a mouse that must be removed and somewhere the master's cat lurked in anticipation. Bayard waited patiently by the door and fell into step behind Kyan as he left the grand chamber, but held silent until they were well away from prying ears or suspicious eyes. At last they entered the darkened halls adjoining the sleeping chambers and felt themselves alone, but before the silence could be broken, a familiar voice spoke.

Firnan and two of his guardsmen stepped out of the shadows, he wore a mocking grin as he said, "now my lord, will you come quietly? There is someone who urgently wishes to speak with you. I also know that there is one other lurking about who intends murder this night. So you see, it is for your own protection."

Bayard eyed him icily, but knew if he went for his sword the creature or the soldiers would make trouble, so he held himself silently at the ready. Unintimidated, Kyan asked, "who wishes for an interview and why must you bring your minions to insist upon it?"

The captain smiled grimly, "if you will not come willingly, I might need their assistance. As to the who, that you must discover when we get there. Will you come quietly or must I insist?"

The two Messengers exchanged a glance before Kyan sighed in resignation, "very well captain, have it your way, but my servant will attend me."

Firnan smiled condescendingly, "I assumed as much. Come along." He turned his gaze upon Bayard, "watch for our mutual acquaintance." And then they trooped off into the darkest reaches of the castle.

It wasn't the dungeon, but it was a dark, dank, crumbling suite of rooms in a long neglected wing of the fortress. Firnan ordered his men to stand watch at the door and to admit no one. Once they were alone, someone lit a candle, a nicety which none of the three required, each being quite able to see in the deepest dark, but the man in question had sat too long, alone in the dark with his unsettling thoughts, and it was a solace he sorely needed. Bayard flinched in horror when he recognized his youngest brother, who was still very much a boy. He had known Firnan was up to something with the youth, but to see him here in the dark with a knife clutched in his fist was another matter entirely. "No!" said Bayard pleadingly, "Justin, don't!"

The boy stared at the insolent servant and then skewered Firnan with an irritated glare, "what is he doing here?"

Firnan turned highly amused eyes upon Bayard, "you cannot stop him, this is mortal business. Will you reveal yourself to him in hopes it will touch his heart and avert disaster?"

Bayard sighed heavily and drew back into the shadows, "it is not my place to interfere. He must do as he thinks best. There was little love lost between us, it will avail nothing for him to know and may perhaps make him more eager."

Justin stared at Firnan in outrage but as the impudent man retreated, he snarled, "can we get on with this? I don't want that eerie companion of my brother's to happen upon us while I am still powerless!"

Kyan said grimly, "what you intend will not give you what you seek. You will be even more helpless and at the mercy of such fiends."

"Silence!" snarled Justin, handling the dagger, "let us begin!"

Kyan found himself helpless before the murderous youth, for Firnan was far stronger than his mortal flesh and easily maneuvered him into position while Bayard was forced to stand aside and watch, forbidden as he was from interfering in mortal affairs. The boy slashed his own palm and then that of his intended victim. He then clutched the Messenger's bloodied hand to his own while Firnan muttered something in a fell tongue. The boy screamed and Kyan felt himself growing insubstantial. The boy's physical shape began to lose all definition, shape, and recognizable features as his entire being darkened into an amorphous shadow while Kyan grew ever more transparent until his mortal shell vanished entirely, leaving only the misty, luminescent visage of the Messenger. He felt a final shifting within himself as his mortal coil vanished utterly, and knew he could now wear a mortal guise should he wish it. Immediately he resolved himself into a form very similar to that which had just vanished, even as Bayard drew out of the shadows, his own identity no longer hidden.

Firnan grinned triumphantly at the Messengers and the shade alike. The former wore looks of grief while the latter trembled in terror and outrage, "what have you done to me! Where is the power you promised! I am nothing but a shadow, not even a man! What is my wretched brother doing here?"

Firnan continued to smirk, answering with great satisfaction, "the power might come, if you can find a mortal willing to make certain sacrifices on your behalf, until then you are nothing but a stain upon reality, powerless save to whisper and suggest into vulnerable mortal ears." He licked his lips eagerly, "you are also quite vulnerable to those of us of our order that currently outrank you." He shrugged, "as to your brother? His Master will send him to meddle whither he will, who am I to stop him? Little enough good he did you." He began to laugh uproariously.

Once the senior wraith had quieted his mirth, Bayard asked, "what exactly do you get out of this?"

Firnan shrugged, "who knows? Perhaps nothing but the satisfaction of bringing another soul under the sway of eternal night, but perhaps I can also use the wretched creature for my own advantage. We shall see."

Hissed the forsaken shadow, "I will not be used!"

Firnan chuckled as if this statement were utterly ridiculous, which it was, but a loud banging upon the chamber door suddenly silenced his mirth. It burst asunder to admit the last creature any of them wished to see. Bayard caught a brief glimpse of the guards on either side of the door, lying as men dead in their terror, before the Dragon slammed the door. He glared at each of them in turn, dismissing the Messengers with a contemptuous sniff, glowering at Firnan, and studying the new made wraith with a hungry intensity. "Well isn't this a happy little conspiracy." He skewered Firnan with a glare, "what were you hoping to gain by it?"

The captain could not hide his mirth, "can I not utterly doom a soul for my own amusement, and at the same time deprive you of your rightful prey?"

The creature turned a furious gaze on Kyan, who bore his scrutiny with amused indifference. The beast frowned, seeing nothing significantly different about his quarry, but wondering if the captain was toying with him, he took the startled Kyan by the throat and would have strangled him, had he been a mortal man, but merely made the Messenger's otherwise solid looking form blur a bit around the edges and produced a brief flicker of light in his eyes. He flung Kyan to the floor, smiling darkly, "the deed is done then, who cares by whom or how? These ghosts are of no importance to me; they are as futile as your pet shadow there." His laugh broadened into a gloating chuckle and he addressed the shade, "want to be infinitely more wretch? Would you be free of this monster's clutches and away from your meddling brother?"

The shadow trembled in eagerness and fear, "can such a thing be?"

Firnan shook his head grimly and the Messengers wore looks of grief and horror, but dared not voice their consternation, knowing it would only make the shade more desperate. The Dragon hissed eagerly, "come lad, join with me. Add your power to my own and let us both benefit thereby."

Said the miserable wraith, "it cannot be worse than this meager existence, very well."

The creature held out his hand and the wraith held out its own blob-like appendage. When the two touched, the greater immediately absorbed the lesser and the wretched creature vanished from all mortal knowledge. Firnan shrugged and the Messengers felt rather nauseous. The beast chortled, "and so will it be with each of you in your turn!" He then melted away into a shadowy puddle and oozed from the room.

Firnan looked at his two remaining companions and said, "this has been such a delightful evening! Now what will you two meddlers be doing, now that you have no official position within the castle? Why don't you just fade away like the dawn mist and do us all a favor?"

Bayard shook his head, "we have our assignment and will not leave until it is accomplished, especially now that both of us are free of all constraints that would otherwise hinder or encumber us."

Firnan chuckled royally, "free of all restraints indeed! That is for me and mine, your Master binds you severely and you can do naught but His will. I suppose I inadvertently did the boy a favor in freeing him of his mortal shell, a pity that, I hate being a boon to anyone. How are we to rid ourselves of the beast then?"

Kyan shook his head, "the creature cannot be destroyed by any means we possess; he can be defeated but will always return."

Firnan nodded in irritation, "and I can only absorb him if he willingly gives himself into my clutches, which is as likely as the pair of you taking up with the palace guard." He was silent for a moment and then a thoughtful grimace covered his face, "to be rid of the monster we must be rid of his charge. If the prince can be disposed of or disabled, the creature will again shrink to nothing but a helpless shadow." He stared at the pair thoughtfully, "you are utterly useless in that regard, I shall have to do it myself."

Bayard shook his head, "we cannot stand aside and let you murder someone, even if he is the root of all our problems at the moment."

The captain snarled in frustration, "what then are we to do? You stood aside quite willingly while your friend here was murdered by your pathetic brother! Why is the crown prince any different?"

Bayard shook his head, "he is a mortal man, if steeped in evil too great to imagine; Kyan is a Messenger though temporarily clothed in mortal flesh. We all knew what would happen this night, if not exactly how or by whom. Had Justin not acted as he did, the Dragon would have. But I cannot stand aside while you attempt to destroy a mortal man who is an unwilling participant in the act; Justin made his choice."

Firnan laughed darkly, "you would save the life of your murderous brother even when it means your Kingdom will never be free?"

Bayard nodded grimly, "I will do what I must."

"So be it," said the captain, and in one fluid motion, Firnan drew his sword and decapitated both of his companions, who vanished in a blinding flash. He grinned in triumph and then hastened to find the young prince ere the nuisances returned.

He darted out the door, not looking at his insensible men, and darted for the banquet hall where the majority of the castle's occupants were dancing the night away. He secreted a dagger up his sleeve and hurried to find the crown prince. The serpent met him at the door and hissed in fury, "I know what you intend, you pathetic little puppy, and it will not avail you! Either you will swear fealty and obedience to me this moment or I will engulf you as I did your pathetic little shadow of a prince."

"Enough!" said Bayard, his misty form gathering itself together in the shadowy corridor, glowing slightly in the gloom. "Serpent," said he, grave as death, "you will leave this place or I will do what I must to unmake you!"

The creature drew back from the lesser minion and studied the young fool with gloating eyes, "unmake me you say? How would you propose to do that, wretch? Even your own Master will not exercise that power."

Bayard said stonily, "it was my blood and my flesh that gave you your power and thus can I be your undoing, reducing you to the mewling shadow you were when my brother bespoke his vile promises."

The creature gaped at the boy, suddenly terrified, "you wouldn't! What would that do to you? Are you willing to pay that price?" He looked into the boy's grim gaze and knew that he would. For the first time since gaining his unholy power, the Dragon knew fear, but he was also a bully and desperate for the power that would soon be his; he would not back down. Hissed he, "do your worst little ghost, let us see if you are bold enough to do as you say." He managed a laugh at the last, but it was forced and quavered tremulously.

Bayard's face was set in a stern frown, his form became that which his folk had once known, and he walked boldly into the swirling mass of merrymakers. At first none noticed the plainly clad, grim faced boy as he stepped unheeding into the dancers' path, but first one, then another noticed who it was and faltered in their steps, causing others to react in turn until the whole room was suddenly silent and still in terror as the apparition made its way towards the head of the room, where sat Tyne with his lady and the King. The two men stared in horror and the lady looked on, perplexed at the reception given this unremarkable boy. The wraiths watched from the shadows of the doorway, nervous and mystified at what was to come. He could not possibly go through with it; he had not the nerve.

Bayard reached the dais where his father and brother sat, the lady beside them. He bowed to the appropriate degree and caught each man's gaze and held it, unflinching, but they each averted their eyes in turn with a shudder of revulsion and dread, for they caught a glimpse of greater things in the depths of Bayard's eyes and feared to look long therein. Said he in a quiet, stern voice yet heard by every soul in the room, "your plots will not avail you! Long has this Kingdom's peace been bought with blood, my own but the latest, but no longer! Recant your evil this moment, or face the bloodguilt that is owed."

Tyne's fury soon overcame his horror, snarled he, "who are you to judge? To mete out justice?"

Bayard said grimly, "I am he who paid the price for your own power, and therefore the linchpin upon which all your plots rest. Should I so choose, I can bring your Kingdom tumbling down. The cost is great, but I am willing to pay it. Will you recant?"

Tyne raised his chin and hissed, "no!"

The King shuddered, "come my son, do not be unreasonable! It was for the greater good, certainly you must see that your sacrifice was not in vain?"

Bayard bowed his head, "nay lord, you have heaped evil upon evil and one way or another; it must end. If you will not repent, I will bring this kingdom to its knees."

Snarled the King, "we shall see about that! Firnan!"

The captain came at the run, bowed hastily to the King, and gave Bayard a cruel smile, "yes, my lord?"

The King smiled mirthlessly, "arrest this ghost or otherwise dispose of him if that is your desire."

Firnan bowed, drew his sword, and said with a pleased smile, "my pleasure, Highness."

No sooner had he bared his blade than Garren and Kyan suddenly materialized in the midst of everything, their own swords in hand, forcing the fiend away from Bayard and his kinsmen. Tyne roared, "come, Dragon!"

The creature slithered up to the dais, cringing back from Bayard and looking at his charge with uneasy eyes, "yes?"

Snarled Tyne, "why do you fear this ghost? Destroy him utterly if you can!"

The creature whimpered, "that I cannot though he can unmake me, or at least reduce me to a quivering shadow once more." His voice grew malicious, "and as happens to me, so it shall be with you! Should he do that which he intends, you too shall be reduced to a whispering shadow and nothing more."

Tyne shivered, "how can this be!? I thought my power was unstoppable."

Bayard smiled grimly and shook his head, "there is only one Power that cannot be stopped nor shaken, and it is the antithesis of that which you serve. Now will you repent of your evil this moment or shall we all of us find ourselves unmade, at least mortally speaking?"

Tyne leapt at his impudent brother, knife in hand, but passed harmlessly through the unblinking Bayard, who whispered, "so be it!"

"No!" shrieked the Dragon and turned upon the irrational prince instead. He might end a shadow regardless, but he would not have it told that it was because a suicidal Messenger had got the better of him. It was a moment's work to grievously wound the distracted prince and then to turn upon the King; neither would he let Firnan have the victory.

Father and son both fell to the creature while Bayard was momentarily preoccupied with his brother's attack and then with his own final act. Their screams drew the inward focused boy back to the horrors before him. The King and crown prince lay bleeding from innumerable wounds while both fiends grew less distinct by the moment. As each man breathed his last, so too did each Minion fade to nothing more distinct than a blotchy shadow in the flickering torchlight, which quickly fled in disgrace and outrage. So was the Kingdom delivered from blood guilt. But not from a woman's wrath.

Instead of fainting or fleeing or shrieking as any proper, nobly bred lady would do, the astonished and quite disappointed young woman, whose betrothed lay shredded upon the flagstones, snarled at the astonished youth before her, "you, warlock! I demand recompense!"

Bayard stared at her blankly, too astounded at what had happened as yet to understand the enraged woman's demands; he was still trying to comprehend that he need not make the final sacrifice to accomplish his quest. Garren approached, a sad smile on his face; Kyan followed closely after, grinning in relief and triumph, too happy to still have his friend this side of eternity to immediately notice the tragedy that had been wrought. The next moment he heard his irate sister snarl, "I thought you had promised to get yourself out of my sight?"

Kyan shrugged, "it is not yet daybreak my lady, I did not promise to flee in the dark."

She sniffed disdainfully and turned her rapacious eyes upon Garren, who was conversing quietly with Bayard. He felt her piercing eyes upon him and turned to her with a gallant bow, "how may I be of service lady?"

She lifted her chin but smiled coldly, feeling at last here was a man who understood how a lady ought to be treated. Said she, slightly mollified, "I was to be Queen, until this vile sorcerer came back from the grave to avenge himself on his father and brother. I demand recompense."

Garren shook his head, "nay lady, I would advise you to return home to your father's house and listen well to your brother's counsel. This castle is fated to crumble to dust, the realm will be divided amongst its various lords, and none who carry the tainted blood of this guilty clan will ever sit upon the throne, at least not in this generation." He turned to the huddling, cringing courtiers and said for all to hear, "judgment has been meted out to your vile King and his despicable heir, heed well what you have seen this night. Disperse now from this place and let the rule of this nation pass into better hands. The keep shall crumble to ruin and none shall dwell here in the coming years but the fox and kite. Too long has this land been steeped in evil of the vilest sort and no longer will its peace and strength be maintained thereby. Be gone!"

The lady lifted her chin as high as it would go and stared down her nose at Garren, "that is no way to treat a lady, sir! I demand recompense."

Garren shook his head, "nay madam, you have lost nothing and there is naught to recoup. Get you gone."

Kyan offered her his hand to help her down from the dais but she slapped it scornfully away and glared daggers at him. He shrugged, backed away, and joined ranks with his comrades. They exchanged a grim smile and then suddenly faded to mist, leaving the mystified court to gape all the more. Many did not linger another moment but made haste to depart from that place, never more to return. The lady thought to gather a following, but she had no power or influence among them and they melted away like snow in spring. Not even the King's surviving sons could gather more than a handful of their father's guardsmen or a few minor lords about them, the latter undoubtedly hoping for a chance at power themselves. They too soon vanished into the lowlands, seeking what future they could and inwardly shuddering at the fate that had befallen their elder brothers and their father. The lady harrumphed a sigh, gathered her servants, and returned to her father's house, where she eventually became a princess as the rule of that particular province fell to her father's keeping, so she was not utterly disappointed. At least she did not have to ride home accompanied with her annoying brother.

An eerie mist, radiant with its own light, crept about the keep as the uneasy residents made ready their flight. No sooner had the last scullion crept from the keep with only the rags on his back, than did that mist reassemble itself into three unremarkable men. Kyan sighed in relief, "that was quite an adventure."

Garren slapped him on the back with a hearty laugh, "it will be but the first of many lad, or at least so I hope." He smiled proudly at Bayard, "how about you lad, you very nearly made that final decision, but since you have been granted a reprieve, will you still Go?"

Bayard grinned eagerly, "I was loath to Go, but ready should it have been required of me. I wish to remain at least a little longer to see what my new occupation entails."

Garren smiled broadly, "good lad!"

Kyan asked in wonder, "what would have happened if the monster had not intervened?"

Garren said quietly, "your friend would have utterly vanished from the mortal sphere; he would even now reside in eternity, never more to be seen under sun or star. We can of course choose to Go at any time, but it was the only way to strip the Dragon of its power short of killing its charge. So it is that he can linger on in this service for as long as he would wish." He glanced about the now empty castle, not even the boldest dared remain behind and rumor would soon spread, ensuring few would dare seek out this haunted edifice in the coming days and years. It was doomed to crumble like the ruin on the adjacent mountain had. The rising morning bathed the grim structure in a golden radiance that momentarily warmed its stark angles and dimmed the forbidding shadows.

Bayard shivered, "I never felt at home here; unhappy were many who have dwelt in its shadow. It is no tragedy that it fall to dust nor that my father's line is broken."

Kyan grinned like the mischievous lad he was, "at last your folk have seen reason, this place was a ruin long before ever I laid eyes upon it!"

They all laughed and melted into the golden mist of morning. Two fretting shadows, hiding in the deepest corners from the dreadful light of day, were only too happy to see the intruders at last vanish. They might have suffered a momentary defeat, but they would wait, and eventually they would again gain physical form and power beyond mortal dreaming. They must only lurk about this grim old ruin until a suitable candidate stumbled by, seeking things which were never meant to be his. The shadows could be as patient as the mountains themselves if necessary, no longer touched by the hand of time as they were. Their day would come again and then let the world and their enemies tremble at the very thought! Or at least so they told themselves.

Rumor did spread and each telling was worse than the last until the ancient fortress became a byword for all things dark and terrible and stained with blood. The Kingdom itself broke into several smaller realms, each ruled by a onetime lord who was now a King. The Messengers were busy about their Master's business and quickly did time pass, for outside of it as they were, they heeded it as little as a fish the water. But in the ruinous castle, a pair of furious shadows fumed and fretted, feeling each hour as heavily as if they bore the world on their backs, so eagerly did they desire a restoration of their power and the chance for revenge. At last, with the speed of continents, their chance came. After several hundred years of neglect, the crumbling castle looked very much as reputation held it to be. The wild tales and the sentient shadows lurking about the place only added to the infamy and mystique evoked by its already grim facade. Here was a place where murder was as minor a crime as filching apples from a neighbor's tree. The man stood without and trembled in eagerness and dread.

He was a Knight come with his squire to investigate this old ruin and see if therein lay fitting adventure for a Knight-errant. He had left his servant downslope where they had made a rough camp and had come to the ruin afoot, to further explore the place and see if it were wise to bring his squire and horses within its shadow. He felt power here, forbidden but awful, and he trembled for want of it. He entered the gaping gates that had long since rotted to uselessness and felt as if he had violated a tomb that had lain undisturbed since the foundation of the world. It was a bright and sunny morning of spring without but inside it might have been a murky, colorless autumn twilight. There was an unnatural chill and silence about the place, one dared hardly breath for fear of drawing unearthly eyes, but the knight stepped deeper into the shadows and there discovered how this power might be his. He hastened from that place, eager as he had not been since his youth, for he would be King and reunite the fractured realm as it had been of old when his forefathers sat upon the throne and ruled from this very place. He had only to fetch his unwitting servant.

As his master climbed up to the old ruin to scout about, Kipril went about his own duties setting up the camp and tending to their horses. He could barely see the crumbling relic far up the slope; an errant wind, that might have strayed out of midwinter, suddenly gusted down the mountain and sent a shudder down the boy's spine and set the horses to whinnying nervously and tossing their heads. He had no wish to see the eerie ruin any closer, and was glad his master had taken it upon himself to do the initial inspection. He turned from his grim musings to resume his interrupted chores, but jumped to see a plainly clad boy about his own age hiking up the slope just below the dell where their camp nestled. He hastened down to meet the newcomer, happy to have some human companionship upon this cursed mountain. "Well met!" cried he in relief, "whatever are you doing in a place with such a reputation?"

Bayard smiled warmly at the lad and wondered if his greeting would be as friendly if he knew the full tale of this place. He replied in turn, "only a fool comes here or those seeking evil gain. I have come to warn you of this place and urge you to go somewhere that is less fraught with sorrow and death."

Kipril nodded glumly, "it is not of my own accord that I linger here, but my master insists that we seek here what adventure we may."

Bayard looked grimly up the slope towards his former home, "nothing but evil lurks therein. Your master is already up at the ruins?"

The boy nodded, "and I would be anywhere else, but I fear to lose my place if I show my lack of courage."

Bayard smiled wryly, remembering his own days of perceived dishonor, said he, "you are wise indeed to wish to flee this place; it is not cowardice but wisdom. Where would you go if you were free to wander where you would?"

Kipril smiled wistfully, lost in yearning, "I feel drawn across the valley to that mountain yonder, what waits there I cannot imagine, but I feel it calling to my very soul."

Bayard nodded in approval, "then get you gone. Flee this place and see what awaits on the next mountain over. Know that should your master find you, your life is forfeit! Do not bide in this place for his coming; for your very life, run!"

The boy shuddered, but did not argue, for some innate sense told him the boy spoke truly and that his life was indeed forfeit should his master see him more. He nodded a hasty farewell and hied himself down into the vale and towards the distant mountain. Bayard watched him go with a grim smile before adjusting his features to resemble the fled boy. He looked up at the crumbling keep and wondered what the shades would think upon seeing him again.

The knight returned with the evening, eager to finish what he had begun. Said he to the boy as he rushed into the camp, "come lad, we have business at the keep. Never mind supper, this is important!" He took hold of the protesting boy and half shoved and half drug him up the slope towards the castle, making very poor progress in his attempted haste. It was full night by the time they stood outside the castle, the gates yawning widely like the mouth of death. The knight stood panting, trying to catch his breath while the boy studied the changes time had wrought in the old ruin. It was more grim and stark than ever, going to ruin in places, but still very much the miserable abode of his youth. Having regained his breath, the knight took the boy by the shoulder and forced him into the keep, saying, "you are about to see things which few among mortal men have ever glimpsed."

A large, toppled stone lay in the center of the courtyard and would serve well for what the knight intended. Bayard smiled grimly, wondering what the man would think when his victim had no blood to spill. He could sense the evil auras cast by the lurking Minions and knew it would not be long before his charade was unveiled; he hoped the boy had had sufficient time to escape his murderous master.

"I have come," trumpeted the man in triumph, "let us commence that I might have my due!"

There came the sounds of derisive laughter and a mocking voice sounded in the deepest shadows, "this is your intended victim?" The scornful laughter and unintelligible comments continued unabated while the knight silently fumed.

At last, he snarled, "you said this required blood! What is wrong with him?"

The guffaws became hearty indeed and the voice keened, "that one has no blood to avail you, fool! He's been dead for centuries! We sent you for a living man, not a bloodless specter." The fervent cackling continued unabated and the knight grew more incensed by the moment.

He turned on his seeming squire and demanded, "what are these fiends going on about?"

Bayard wore a bland smile, though the knight could not see it in the dark, and said, "you are the one who brought me here. What have I to do with them or this place?"

The knight sounded rather puzzled, "this is true, what would you know of any of this?" He turned to the sounds of merriment in the deeper shadows, "will you tell me why you find this situation so amusing?"

There came another outburst of hilarity but one of the voices chortled at last, "the wretch is dallying for time, hoping to give your true victim a chance to escape. He is not who you take him to be. His own story is intricately woven into the history of this place and so it seems like to continue. Run him through with your sword and see for yourself." His voice faded away into more giggles while the knight stood staring at the silhouette of his squire in the dark, a frown etched upon his brow.

He shrugged, he had meant to kill the boy anyway, so why not? He unsheathed his blade and ran the unflinching boy through the heart. There was neither outcry nor injury, blood nor death. The boy stood there as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be conversing with shadows in the dead of night with a murderous companion at your side. A note of terror tinged the knight's voice this time, but the fury was far greater and ill contained, said he, "who or what are you? Where is my squire?"

Bayard flashed him a grin, letting his mortal guise melt away, revealing a misty form, radiant from within, said he, "I was once the second son of the king of this place before my elder brother did as you intended, using my blood to achieve power at a grievous price to all but himself. Now I ward the mortal world from villains such as these and schemes such as yours. Farewell!" He faded from their perception, leaving a very perplexed knight and two guffawing shadows alone in the night.

Kipril ran as hard as he could, hoping to attain his goal, whatever it was, ere his master finally caught up with him. He half ran, half slid down the slope into the valley between the mountains and then scrabbled for footing as he ascended the far side and drew ever nearer whatever it was that so called to his heart. As the sun was sinking beyond the distant hills in a fury of scarlet splendor, Kipril fell to his knees in exhaustion beside another ruin, this one far older and though uncanny in feel, it felt neither grim nor evil, simply foreign to his mortal sensibilities. He caught his breath and stood, as the first stars began to peep out in the dusky firmament, gazing in trepidation at the single opening into the stonewalled enclosure, knowing that this is what his heart yearned for above all else but also knowing that once he crossed that threshold, life as he knew it would be over. He glanced off into the darkness, knowing what awaited out there was far worse than whatever might happen amidst the standing stones. He took a deep breath and plunged into the midst of the stones, falling as one dead the moment his feet crossed the doorway. His body lay under the waxing stars, breathing slowly and insensible to the glory of the night.

A boy stepped out of the night and silently studied the fallen figure amidst the stones for a long, thoughtful moment before approaching the prone form. There was no longer a grave-keeper for the Cave of Dust, the last specimen had died without leaving an heir and none came forward seeking to fill the position in these wild and haunted mountains, so the duty fell to the Messengers to attend to their own. Bayard took up the insensible boy and easily found the entrance in the midst of the circle, carefully descending the relatively new stairs that were now the only way into or out of the Cave; the old entrance having been sealed after the last grave-keeper died to prevent any unwanted visitors, as had attended Bayard's own interment. Only those in the Master's service could enter the stone ring and gain access to the new entrance into the Cave. This arrangement and the Watchers guaranteed that the sleepers could molder undisturbed.

Bayard felt keen eyes upon him the moment he entered the Cave, but also felt their disinterest in himself and their eagerness over his burden, it had been many a year since they had had something to ward; the previous occupants had long since fallen to dust. He gently swept aside the debris on one of the stone biers, which may or may not have been the mortal remains of one of his colleagues, and then lay the unmoving form solemnly in place. The Watchers keened eagerly from their perches overhead and he heard the ruffle and flutter of innumerable wings as the creatures shifted in place, trying to get a better look. He smiled ruefully, nodded solemnly, and took his leave. He left the stony circle and wandered a bit further down the hill until he found what he sought: in a rill at the base of the rise he found blind tendrils of mist that seemed to glow with moonlight though the moon was nowhere to be seen. He smiled warmly in remembrance and called upon the wandering fingers of mist to pull themselves together.

With a little concentration, they resolved themselves into an apparition very much resembling the boy he had just interred in the Cave of Dust. He smiled joyously in recognition and they talked for some time about Kipril's new occupation and what had come of his former master. Said Bayard, "he will come for you."

Kipril nodded, not seeming surprised, "he was ever a man to do as he said, once he had determined to do something a certain way, he would not be gainsaid, no matter how difficult or impossible the task. If he has sworn to spill my blood, he will not be content until he has achieved his goal."

Bayard shook his head, "how he is to gain access to the Cave is beyond me, but I am sure his nameless allies will aid him by every means possible and who knows the limit of their cunning or vile powers? If he gains what he seeks, and he must if he is to attain the power he desires, then things will grow dark indeed, dark as they have not been since the days when the ruin across the valley was still peopled. You may be called upon to make a difficult choice."

The boy nodded, "whatever my duty, gladly shall I do it."

Bayard nodded sadly and smiled proudly, "such is our Call and our joy. Welcome to the Messengers!" He frowned, "they are already upon us, come."

They ghosted down the hill and awaited the coming of a furious looking man in the regalia of a full knight and the two pensive shadows that accompanied him. The man could not see his former squire, but the shades exchanged an eager, knowing look, wondering if history could repeat itself in this place where the uncanny was an everyday occurrence. Snarled the Knight, "give me my due phantasm or I shall pull this place down stone by stone until I find what is rightfully mine!" Kipril stared in wonder at the glowering figure of the knight, oblivious to his former squire, and wondered how he had ever held the scoundrel in such awe and one day hoped to emulate him in every respect. He shuddered at the thought and sighed a grateful prayer for his escape.

Bayard shook his head grimly, "you will waste your life seeking that which is not yours to possess. Be gone from this place and find something worthwhile to do with your life."

The man laughed him to scorn and immediately set out to learn the lay of the land and discover the secrets of this haunted mountain. The shades did not follow, for they could sense that which belonged to them in the heart of the hill, but first the one who swore the oath must fulfill his promise of blood or they would remain nothing more than wretched shadows for the rest of time. Snarled the first, "we know where he lies. Save us all the trouble and give him up!"

The second hissed, "you know we shall have him in due course, why waste your time and energy when you could apply it to something far more worthwhile?"

Bayard laughed heartily, "keeping the world free of another Dragon is well worth any amount of effort on our behalf! Your Knight will spend half his life digging out that which lies at the heart of the hill and by then it will have decayed beyond use or interest."

Growled a wraith, "that might well be, but at least it is a chance. Anything is better than moldering for another century in that castle. Let the wretch waste his mortal days! What is that to us? Even if he does not reach it in time, it shall be no end of amusement to watch him try and there will be other fools just as gullible in days to come."

Meanwhile the Knight made a circuit of the crumbling ruin atop the hill, careful to avoid the ring of standing stones, knowing it was death to enter therein. He returned at last to where his shadowy allies held court with that ghostly nuisance. Said he, "where is the entrance to the Cave?"

Bayard grinned mischievously, "it was sealed centuries ago and it will be the work of many years to invade that tomb, by which time your quarry will have rotted to dust. Is that how you wish to spend half your mortal days?"

The Knight growled, "I have sworn that the boy's blood will be spilled on behalf of my companions here and I must fulfill my vow or worse shall come of it. Where does the wretch lie?" Bayard rolled his eyes and vanished, leaving the man alone with the shadows and his pride. He immediately took up an ancient shovel, no doubt a relic of the last grave-keeper, and began to hew at the side of the hill, more to vent his frustration rather than in hopes of actually gaining what he sought. The shades exchanged an amused look and ventured into the burial chamber it would take the Knight a decade or more to penetrate with his current strategy.

They found the two Messengers within, studying the still form intently. The Watchers above squawked and shifted in agitation, unhappy with the advent of the fiends in their midst but unable to repel them, as technically the vile creatures had a claim on their charge. As the shades entered through the side of the hill, as if it were no more than a bank of fog, the Messengers shifted their gaze and simultaneously drew their swords. The shadows hissed in alarm and outrage, what right had the creatures to deny them access to their prey? But their fury was short-lived, at least in that place, for the Messengers drove them from the Cave with a well placed stroke and found themselves again alone, save for the Watchers. Bayard turned to Kipril, saying, "it is probably for the best. The Minions and their Knight will not rest until they are destroyed or you are. At least in this way we will not have the risk of another Dragon. You are certain?"

Kipril nodded, "let us be about it before I change my mind. It is for the best, no matter that the very thought is enough to break my heart. I have only just entered this service and now to leave it willingly? But no, we cannot risk it. The creatures will not have their chance."

The Watchers suddenly began squawking in wonder and joy as the entire cavern was filled with a light too bright to look upon and not go blind. The Messengers found themselves on their knees in joy and trepidation as their Master appeared before them. Said a voice more wondrous than Love itself, "come child, I will not lose the service of so faithful a heart nor will My enemies prosper any more in this manner. Take again your mortal form, bear it far from here, and let your pursuers not benefit thereby, but you shall remain firmly within My keeping. All who now enter this service will leave no mortal body behind for My enemies to prey upon; only mist and moonlight shall remain in their wake. Rise child, and go!" The Light dimmed, the Watchers squawked now in agitation, and the entire Cave began to tremble.

The Messengers exchanged an eager but puzzled look and dashed towards Kipril's inert form while the Watchers left their perches and fled the Cave. Clumps of dirt and bits of rock fell about them as they reached the bier on which the boy's mortal remains lay. He gave Bayard one last determined look and then vanished. Kipril gasped like a landed fish and Bayard immediately took hold of his hand; they both vanished like morning mist in the sun as the roof of the cavern collapsed in the place where they had been.

They reappeared in a spindly wood at twilight, blinking in astonishment at one another, a fey smile on each face. Kipril's grin became a pained grimace before he fell forward and lay still, an arrow protruding from his back. Only then did Bayard notice that he was invisible to mortal eyes as a reprehensible looking fellow approached the fallen boy but was completely oblivious to his former companion. Even as the man turned the prone form over, Kipril groaned once and breathed his last; he suddenly appeared at Bayard's side, with a broad smile on his face and dancing eyes. The rest of the bandit gang drew up around the dead intruder and their inquisitive fellow, who said, "he's dead. Looks just like any peasant lad I've ever seen, I wonder what the fool was doing wandering these woods when he ought to have known they're infested with outlaws! He won't be repeating his idiocy anyway."

The captain of the bandits nodded grimly, "perhaps, but how did he get into the very heart of our camp with none the wiser? I do not like it."

"And well you should not," came a harsh and unexpected voice, every eye was suddenly focused on a Knight in full armor, skidding down the side of the hill. "That boy was mine," snarled he, "you shall pay with your lives!"

The captain scoffed, "I am certain we shall." He nodded and his assorted thieves made short work of the Knight. Though the man was clad in full armor and knew well the use of his sword, his footing was uncertain, he was far outnumbered, and in the failing light he could not see all of his assailants before one or another had managed to find a chink in his armor and drive a knife into his ribs.

"Fool!" hissed another unexpected voice, this from a creature none but the Messengers could see. All froze in terror but the dying Knight's gaze was fixed on his shadowy allies, continued the shade, "is this how you fulfill your vow? Will you now die, a useless and pathetic failure or join ranks with us?" The Knight whimpered in terror but made no further reply as he sank into oblivion, from which he was never to waken in the mortal world. The shade snarled imprecations in a vile tongue and turned its hateful gaze upon the bandit king, "what of you? Would you have the power this fool did not have the wisdom to realize? You have already spilled blood this day, what is a little more?"

"No!" gasped a voice stricken with terror, more at what might be than at what was before his eyes.

The captain snarled his own imprecations and ordered the disturber of the peace to be brought forward. The boy trembled at his feet but he defiantly locked eyes with the captain and dared him to do his worst, yet pled with him not to go through with this horrid ritual. The captain looked to the shade, a darker blot in the night, and said, "will his blood be enough?"

The shade shrugged, "there are two of us to pacify, his blood will only suffice for one of us, but perhaps a partial strengthening is the best that can be achieved at the moment. Do it!"

The captain's knife flashed blood red in the last rays of the setting sun and drove deep into the boy's chest, but even as the captain withdrew his dagger, the boy vanished suddenly and the wraiths hissed in frustration, which suddenly turned to satisfaction as they felt themselves grow more solid with a defined shape and presence in the mortal sphere. Their features were still indistinguishable and muddy, as if they were shapen of clay by an unskilled hand, but they were no longer mere shadows whispering from beyond the realm of the living. The blood price had been paid, at least in part, even if they had no corpse to prove it. Whatever those foolish Messengers wanted with a dead man was their own affair; if they were that desperate for carrion, they were welcome to it. The two Fiends turned their eyeless faces expectantly upon the bandit captain and he shuddered, wondering if he had made the right decision after all. The rest of his company would have fled had they not been frozen in absolute terror, wondering which of them would be next.

Ithril's world had fallen to pieces only that morning, kidnapped by bandits as he was, and it did not seem to be improving as evening fell and he felt the bandit's knife pierce his heart. He felt afire and could not breath, but before the darkness consumed him, a great light washed over him. He remembered kind eyes, dancing with unspeakable joy even in the midst of tragedy and then all was mist and moonlight: cool, calm, and free of all fear and pain and regret. He opened his eyes on a completely different world, and for what might have been the first time in ages, he smiled.

Garren moved silently through the crowded back alleys of the booming river town, while visible, those brushing shoulders with him little noticed that their shoulders did not actually touch his, so concerned were they with their own affairs and minding the crowd about them. In the poorest part of the city, he knew his quarry lay obligingly around the next corner. The wretched, winding street, barely wide enough for even one man to walk comfortably down, was crowded with refuse and miniscule domiciles barely fit for rats. Here the poorest of the poor huddled miserably in their shivering masses, struggling through their brief span of days before they were utterly forgotten among the nameless dead. But there was One who yet knew the name of even the most wretched of these unfortunate creatures, and today He called one such to Himself.

Garren's heart quivered in pity as he ghosted through the abominable street, the sounds of misery and wretchedness assaulting him from all sides. A feeble, hacking cough drew his attention to a certain residence, if it could be called that, whose door did not latch but was rather a makeshift collection of assorted boards roped together and held in a rough approximation of closed with another castoff cord. Garren did not bother with knocking but entered quietly into the cramped, dimly lit chamber whose only light came through the cracks in the door and front wall, for there were no windows or candles in such a place. A vaguely manlike creature, though so wasted and shrunken one could see every bone in his frame, lay upon a pile of rags against the far wall, and it was from this trembling ruin of humanity that another bout of hacking erupted, weak though it was.

Garren said quietly, but with great compassion and no little joy ringing in his solemn voice, "will you come away from all this?"

The wretched man turned his head slightly, towards the unfamiliar sound of a friendly voice, and gazed at the intruder dully through overlarge eyes in a skull-like face. He blinked in exaggerated slowness, smiled wanly as if at some insipid joke, and then turned a vacant stare upon the ceiling, an edifice Garren dared not study more closely. He shook his head grimly, took the smile for an affirmative, and took up the moribund lad who weighed no more than a healthy child half his age. The invalid did not protest at this bold move, perhaps thinking it just another delirium, and so they vanished forever from that horrid place, unfit even to house swine. They reappeared within the ring of standing stones and the astonished boy gave Garren a wide-eyed stare before melting into mist and moonshine.

Garren glanced up as his burden vanished from his grasp and smiled broadly upon sighting Bayard amid the stones. They met in the center of the ruin and joyous was their greeting. They quickly exchanged news and smiled at their common errand. Kyan and Kipril then materialized, sharing introductions and greetings all around. Then all four watched expectantly as the two newest of their number drew themselves together out of the ubiquitous mist that carpeted the ground amidst the stones. After another round of greetings, introductions, and some explanation to the neophyte Messengers, Bayard queried of Garren, "how often are so many of us together in one place?"

Garren shook his head in wonder, the others watching intently, "never to my knowledge, but there is certainly something afoot else we would not be here."

The next moment an inexorable light obliterated them all, at least from any conscious awareness of themselves or anything but the Light, and they soon had their explanation and their next quest, strange as it was. As the light faded, six mortal men found themselves huddling in the collapsed cavern beneath the stones, for within that ring no mortal could linger, even for a moment, unchanged. But rather than finding themselves trapped for all eternity in that ruined tomb, a narrow path lay before them amid the tumbled stones and with careful scrambling in the dark, they soon emerged into the fading light of afternoon through the ancient entrance into that forsaken Cave, apparently opened anew when the interior collapsed upon itself. Ithril and Corbin, the newest members of that order, had had so little experience in this strange new world they now inhabited that they did not find their current predicament odd in the least, rather the former was ecstatic to be free of both bandits and injury, while the latter was hale and healthy for the first time in three long years. Kipril smiled eagerly, still so new a Messenger that just about anything was considered exciting. The three eldest, who had at least a few years experience, exchanged an intrigued look, wondering if they could adapt to this forgotten, and limited, form once more, but they were eager for the challenge.

Bayard looked across the valley to the hulking ruin, already draped in the shadows of evening, that had once been home, for thence were they bound. Of one accord, they left the ancient stones to themselves and began the descent into the valley. They forbore discussing the matter until full night forced them to make camp for the evening, more for the sake of their fragile mortal forms rather than the darkness, for they still retained their uncanny vision in even the deepest dark. Between them, they soon found they possessed enough in the way of provisions to make for a merry evening under the stars, but soon it was all to bed, for some it was the first true sleep they had had in centuries. Garren stood the first watch and mused silently over the course life had taken in the last twelve hours, of all his adventures, this one perhaps would be the most memorable, certainly the most bizarre. A few hours later, he wakened Bayard for his turn at watch and gratefully sought his own blankets, musing wryly that he was long overdue for a decent night's repose.

They wakened early and began their ascent as the sun started her own. By midmorning, they were standing outside the gaping gates of the abandoned castle, not entirely eager to enter therein. Bayard shook his head and smiled grimly, "will my tale never part from this accursed ruin?"

Garren slapped him on the back and said roguishly, "by rights you are master of this place, being the direct descendant of the last King."

Bayard's smile grew merry and he laughed in spite of himself, "the dearest desire of my heart, certainly! Why else would I have fled it centuries ago? Yes, that must be it indeed! I am to be King and ye my merry subjects."

Garren grinned recklessly, "forgive me Majesty if I forbear, my bows are a tad rusty and would not befit a monarch of your standing."

The neophytes were rather wide-eyed at the banter of their elders, but this last sent the entire company into fits of laughter from which it took them no little time to recover. "Well," said Bayard at last, "no sense leaving this ruin to itself if we have business within. Now what parts are each of you fit to play?"

They soon had themselves organized by talent and interest so that the place was now roughly staffed with a bare bones contingent of vital servants. Bayard took the place of steward, being both familiar with the ways of the nobility and the castle itself. Kyan would be valet to the new master of the place, whose arrival could come at any moment. The others would serve as various menials, laborers, cooks, hostlers, and scullions, as necessary. Garren grinned upon sighting the ruinous kitchen over which he now held mastery, "I never thought to wield a spatula in our Master's Name, but so shall it be." He turned to his companions, now serious, "will the imminent new master of this place and his minions so willingly accept us? It seems a bit too fortuitous for my taste, and I have not the suspicious nature of our so-called bandit King."

Bayard nodded, smiling slightly, "oh they shall certainly be suspicious, but they shall also be grateful for the company of other mortal creatures since the advent of those Shades in their midst. They will also look upon us as life savers, for we shall be a far more palatable offering to the appetites of said wraiths, at least to their captain's thinking, than the men in his charge. Why sacrifice a proven man when so many strangers are ready to hand, that and they'll see the advantages of not having to keep up with all the household chores themselves." His smile deepened, "that and being opportunists themselves, they will not fault the lot of us for taking advantage where we may. Now, my fellow menials, let us ready this place for the advent of our new master and his cronies." They exchanged amused grins and then hastened to set the castle in order as best they could for its impending lord.

As evening approached, hooves clattered in the courtyard and the servants rushed to greet their new master, who was notably astonished to be so attended. He scowled suspiciously at the strangers hastening to be of service, but allowed their help in attending to his horses and luggage. Once the immediate chores were settled, Bayard approached the bandit king, who stood in the courtyard glowering with arms crossed; upon giving an appropriate bow, the lad announced, "welcome home Sire, we have been anticipating your arrival and hope you find our service both welcome and acceptable."

The man snarled, "just who are you and what are you doing infesting my castle?"

Bayard grinned like a fool, "we are here to serve, Sire. At least if you will have us. Like yourselves, we are men of opportunity and we hoped it would not be long ere this ruin was peopled again, which means there would be a place for servants once more."

The man's glower receded into a thoughtful silence as he scratched his rough beard, "I suppose it cannot hurt to give you and your absurd companions a go of it. At least it will spare my men the bother." His smile grew eager and grim, Bayard took an inadvertent step back from such a devious grimace, said the captain, "and I can think of certain other advantages to your presence as well. Very well, you may remain until your presence displeases me and then we shall see what comes of the matter." He chuckled darkly but then stared suspiciously at the boy and ordered, "give me your hand." Bayard immediately complied and received a dagger slash across his palm for his trouble; the bandit king relaxed significantly when he saw the blood oozing from the wound. At least the creature was mortal; he had had too many dealings with uncanny companions of late to keep any more within his immediate vicinity than he absolutely must. "Off with you!" snarled he and the boy went scurrying back to his business with agreeable terror and haste. The bandit smiled to himself and mused that this arrangement might turn out quite profitably after all.

The Shadows were not quite so impressed nor accepting of these human vagabonds, the bandits were uneasy enough in their presence. What would these fickle strangers think? They needed neither panic, inane questions, nor rumors until they were ready to act, but then again there was still the matter of the half paid blood price. Another victim must feel the captain's knife if they were both to wear a fully human guise and achieve the full potential of their power; a pity their vile Enemy no longer allowed his precious Messengers to leave behind a living corpse that might be used to reach a potential now known only in memory and legend. They kept to the shadows so the pathetic menials would not be troubled with unsettling visions and beset by troublesome questions. They watched the captain interview the apparent leader of the slaves about the place, and then summoned him to themselves once the creature had scurried back to the hole in which it undoubtedly lurked.

The miserable wretch trembled in their presence, an ideal presentation, and one of them hissed, "tonight you will fulfill the rest of your blood oath and achieve the full extent of your powers. Bring the victim of your choice here when all the rest have settled themselves for the night. Go!"

The captain hastened away from his masters, and simultaneously his slaves, as quickly as Bayard had fled his presence. He mused upon which of the wretched creatures to present as an offering to the vile shadows. He did not wish to part with any of his own men, so it must be one of the menials, yet would they take the sudden vanishment of one of their own amiss? He laughed grimly to himself, what did he care if the whole lot of them fled in terror? It would be one less thing he had to worry about. Now which of the menials was it to be? He entered the castle and was shown to the Royal Chambers wherein waited his personal valet. The bandit king laughed heartily inside, but kept a somber look on his face, having found just the creature. He needed no personal servant, bandit that he was. The boy was utterly useless therefore, save as a blood price to satiate the Shadows' lust. Said he, "I have just the duty for you lad, if you are willing?" The boy nodded eagerly and the man's smile was malice itself. Kyan shivered inwardly, but knew this was his appointed task and neither would it be his first time.

The next morning the boy was missed immediately by his comrades but no one else seemed to notice or care. Two more nefarious strangers had appeared among the bandit throng; the Messengers knew them instantly for the Fiends they were though it seemed their own identities were yet hidden from the loathsome creatures. A minor ruckus at the still gaping gates brought Bayard, in his guise as Steward, to investigate for it was his appointed duty to see that life in the keep passed as efficiently and peaceably as possible. He blinked in astonishment at what he saw and smiled inwardly at this unexpected turn of events. Two of the bandits were ever on guard at the gateless gate, assuring none entered without their master's leave. The pair on duty this morning was glaring at an unwashed peasant boy in ragged garments who seemed oblivious to the fact that the guards were annoyed nigh unto murder. At the approach of the ersatz steward they grinned maliciously and handed the nuisance to Bayard, saying, "here, a supplicant come to beg for bread and shelter, find a use for him or send him on his way or we shall make an end of the matter."

The boy flinched at their implication and cowered behind the unimpressed Bayard, who nodded grimly and silently herded the youth away from the openly grinning gate minions. The lad followed submissively behind, the picture of a properly cowed servant. Bayard fought desperately to keep his grin from betraying him. Once they were away from prying ears, he loosed all restraint and grinned like a maniac, said he with a joyous laugh, "come to beg for your old place? I don't think I can give it to one so negligent in his duties. Do you realize your master has been without your aide all the morning? If he were a truly civilized person, rather than a bandit and a murderer, he would be completely unable to function. Well?"

The boy laughed at the mock sternness in Bayard's voice, saying, "I am glad you missed me. I do apologize for the delay, it was a rather necessary inconvenience and my former master should be the last to complain, for it was all of his doing. These nobles are quite uncouth in their demands if they truly have such expectations. Can't a man be allowed to die in peace without being rousted from his grave and chided for tardiness in his duties?" With this apology, Kyan grinned all the more.

Bayard shook his head and studied his companion with interest, at last he said, "this is really quite fascinating. I had no idea what to expect, but it was certainly not you returned, still a mortal man but with a different face."

Kyan grinned impishly, "I couldn't very well come back and be recognized and had I not been mortal, those Fiends would have known what I was from the moment I entered the gate." He shuddered at the memory of the previous night and continued, "they cut my throat as if I were nothing but a sheep for slaughter then tossed my corpse in a ditch to rot, but the moment no one was looking, I felt whole once more, climbed out of the gully, and returned to my post." He smiled, "it seems our Master has seen to even the most minor of details. Any idea what we are to do here?"

Bayard handed him a broom and said with a smile, "you can start by helping us put the keep back in order and make this place semi-habitable." Kyan rolled his eyes emphatically but took the offered implement of cleanliness and got to work.

The days passed in relative peace, though the keep buzzed like a beehive as the bandits settled in and began to repair the crumbling fortress. The Messengers were ideal servants: silent, efficient, and never demanding to be paid. The bandit king was so happy with their efforts on his behalf that he almost quit grumbling about his suspicions regarding their true intentions. The Fiends watched intently but never found reason to suspect that the creatures were more than what they appeared. One of the monsters did take especial delight in tormenting the Steward. It was neither vengeance nor suspicion, but rather the result of the creature's malicious nature. Every time the wraith encountered this particular mortal, he would make some snide remark as he touched the man's shoulder and absorbed a little more of his life. As the encounters added up, Bayard felt as if he were aging noticeably by the day, a fact which the Fiends found vastly amusing. But acting in his own defense would betray his true nature so he tolerated the annoyance as best he could, and bided his time until the day when they could finally fulfill their mission.

Garren studied him one day, as he passed through the kitchens on his way to another part of the castle, said he with a smile, "I do not think the stress of command agrees with you lad. You are getting gray hair!"

Bayard grinned, "aye, it is no easy duty like feeding this rabble." He frowned, "how do you keep us provisioned any way?"

Garren shrugged, "there is always food in the pantry, don't ask me how but it is quite convenient."

They both smiled appreciatively at their Master's provision then Bayard sighed, "funny that I have not aged in centuries and now I've aged twenty years in as many days. I look forward to the day when I can show that Fiend who and what I truly am." He fingered his fading locks ruefully, "and here I thought dying young was the key to immortal youth." Garren shook his head at his friend's assumed vanity and chivied him from the kitchens. The boy gave him an impish grin and dashed off upon his interrupted errand.

By the time things finally got interesting, the steward looked as if he had held the position for a respectable forty years at the least. He feebly stood upon the battlements, supported by Kyan, whom he now employed as his personal page and errand boy, in these, his failing years. He grinned wryly at the thought but turned his attention back to the scene that held every eye in the keep. Cried the man in shining armor from without, one of a whole host of such men, "I hereby challenge the master of this place to single combat, if he is so bold, but if he refuses I will overthrow this ruin and see that no two stones are left one atop the other and all within shall be put to the sword!"

Brave words, thought Bayard, but utterly foolish if he knew the powers with which he was dealing. His smile became grim indeed as he realized the Knight wouldn't have to worry himself over such things if the Messengers successfully accomplished their task. He said in a voice husky with age, but tinged with eagerness, "help me descend lad, the hour has come!" Kyan's eyes nearly glowed with excitement as he helped his ancient companion descend to the courtyard where the bandit king was conferring with his shadowy companions, all three looking far too keen for comfort.

Bayard hacked a cough, bowed to the bandit king and his companions, and said in a rasping voice, "might I have a quiet word with your advisors Sire?"

Their eyes widened at his impudence but the creature that had sapped almost all of his vitality smiled in malicious glee, as he gloated, "I will deign to listen to the pleas of this accursed imp." The other shrugged, seemingly eager to share in whatever mischief his companion intended and curious to know what made the wretched mortal so bold. When the bandit king made to protest, the first shade snarled, "we shall return in plenty of time to deal with that minor nuisance without, but first I shall indulge this pest as I think it shall be vastly amusing to hear his whimpering pleas." They turned as one and vanished deeper into the keep with Bayard limping painfully after, leaning heavily on Kyan for support. The bandit king glowered after him, his eyes promising certain doom at this interruption if he somehow managed to survive the hijinks of the Shades; he smiled dreadfully at the thought and laughed darkly, knowing he would never see the impudent creature again. A pity that, he had been a rather useful slave. He turned his attention back to the intruder at his gate, still spouting courageous drivel, and impatiently awaited the return of his Minions.

The wraiths entered one of the larger dining rooms that had sat empty for years beyond count and feeling themselves alone, they turned upon the hobbling creature and his servant, watching in amusement as the preternaturally aged man made his way towards them. "Now what is this about?" hissed the creature that had pilfered most of the wretch's strength.

Bayard stood as straight as his crooked frame would allow and said boldly, "I hereby challenge you to a duel, villain."

The creatures exchanged an incredulous glance and the shade in question scoffed, "have you any idea what I am wretch? I who can suck the very life from your bones, the soul from your carcass? Will you challenge me even so?"

Bayard nodded, "this must end, and it shall end now!"

The wraiths laughed uncontrollably, the first saying, "aye, certainly it will end but not as you intend. You could not last much longer anyway. Let us make a proper end of the matter. I shall next turn my attention to your servant there, but just to give you a fighting chance, as if there were such a thing, you can make the first move in this altercation and I won't even try to defend myself."

The laughter continued unabated for some moments before Bayard said quietly, "as you wish it, Fiend." He nodded at Kyan, who drew his dagger and moved towards the second wraith as Bayard approached his adversary. The creatures laughed all the more as the boy and the octogenarian fell boldly upon them but their mirth turned suddenly to a hissing shriek as they vanished like shadows before the light. The Messengers exchanged an eager grin and then Kyan dashed out to find inform his fellows, Bayard hobbled feebly after.

The bandit king saw the boy come flying out of the room where the shades had secreted themselves with the impudent steward, and then he gaped in astonishment to see the old man come hobbling out shortly after with nary a sign of the Minions. He darted to the steward and demanded, "where are my slaves?"

Bayard grinned insolently and said, "they will return shortly but find themselves momentarily detained. Will the army without wait their coming?"

The bandit king cuffed the insolent fool hard, too hard for his ancient bones to handle, sending the man sprawling into an unmoving heap against one wall. He smiled viciously at his handiwork but then remembered his predicament. His minions were gone, at least for the moment, and the fool without would not wait and his company was certainly large enough to overtake this ruined fortress with ease. He smiled grimly, for the fool knight had offered to settle the matter in single combat; the bandit king was a fell hand with a sword, especially when he was desperate. Let the wraiths return at their leisure and see that he could still manage his own affairs without their assistance. He laid his hand to his sword and bellowed for all to hear, "throw open the gates! I accept the fool's challenge." There were some murmurs of astonishment from his men, but they dared not defy him. They could see the situation outside as well as he could, at least this gave them a chance at success.

The two combatants faced one another on a relatively flat piece of ground just outside the castle gates, their respective minions drawn up in an avid ring about them. Said the valiant knight to the bandit king, "I hereby challenge you to single combat. If I am the victor, all your followers shall be put to the sword and your fortress shall be thrown down stone by stone. If you are triumphant, my followers shall withdraw and leave you in peace, at least for a time. What say you?"

The bandit gaped, "why are my men doomed while yours may simply withdraw?"

The knight grinned coldly, "so am I bidden by One I dare not disobey, besides we are many to your few. If you refuse, I shall simply do as I intend without granting you the least chance of victory."

The bandit shuddered but he knew the man spoke truly, sighed he, "very well, it shall be as you say." His minions muttered darkly but there was nothing for them to do now but hope their captain won.

The combatants circled, exchanged a few tentative blows to judge the other's strength, and then leapt into a full-fledged exchange, which was shortly decided in favor of the knight. The bandit king was good for a man with no formal training, but the knight had been steeped in the warrior arts since he was barely able to walk. The moment their captain was down, the bandits went berserk but their foes had anticipated just such an outcome and quickly put down the uprising, leaving only the Messengers and the mortally wounded bandit king alive among the former residents of the castle.

Bayard watched from the castle gates, not the sword match going on slightly below him, but two shadowy figures moving at unnatural speed up the hillside towards the place where their master fought for his life. He smiled slightly, knowing they would come too late, if only by a moment. He was still mortal, but the captain's harsh treatment had inadvertently renewed his strength to its youthful vigor, just as Kyan had found life even in death. He watched the captain fall, the bandits mutiny, the ensuing slaughter, and then just as the Fiends made to fall upon the triumphant knight, the captain sputtered his last and the Minions melted again into harmless shadows, furious but futile. Bayard moved out of the gateway and approached the stern knight, bowing to the appropriate degree in greeting, said he, "the castle is yours, sir and I the last within. Do now as you are bidden."

The Knight studied the half dozen raggedly clad men, all that remained of the bandit's host, but beneath their shabby garb, he could see that here were men of honor and duty above all else. They had stayed their hands when all the rest had attempted to gain vengeance even as they committed suicide. Said he at last, "I have vowed to rend this ruin stone from stone and to put all within to the sword, but here at the last I am uneasy to finish what I have begun. For I can see you are men true of heart and noble of spirit, and not truly a part of this upstart ragamuffin's band."

Bayard bowed his head solemnly at this heartfelt reply but said sternly, "you must do as you are bidden lest worse come of it. We are mere servants and no true part of the plots herein, but even so, we are as bound by your oath as you yourself. But if you would spare us the sword, then let our fate be decided by another means. Across the valley lies another ruin, one of legend, accompany us there and thereby fulfill your oath."

The knight gaped at the seeming boy before him, "you would rather face the uncanny nature of that ancient ruin than a quick and honest death by my hand?"

The boy grinned impishly, "nay sir, rather I will spare your hands the guilt of innocent blood and yet allow you still to do as you have promised. Leave our fate to Him whom you have sworn to serve."

The knight nodded grimly, "very well, we shall accompany you across the valley and there behold what doom awaits you; then we shall return and destroy this unsightly rock heap once and for all." He motioned and his men were soon in their saddles with the Messengers walking easily in their midst, able to keep apace of the horses on the uneven ground. They had not gone far when the earth shook, the horses screamed and fought their riders, and all threw themselves to the ground, where they huddled in terror. When the earthquake subsided, all looked upon where the castle had once stood and gaped, for not one stone now remained upon another. Bayard grinned, "it seems half your oath at least is fulfilled. Come, we will see that all is finished by sunset." The knight shook his head in wonder at the boy's eagerness for his own doom but ordered his men back into their saddles and continued on their way.

As the sun set the west aflame in scarlet and gold, the company drew rein downslope from the infamous standing stones. Leaving the horses and most of his men, the knight accompanied the Messengers up the hill with half a dozen of his best men. He studied the ruin grimly and said to Bayard, "here then is your doom, are you still so eager for whatever your fate might be?"

Bayard nodded eagerly, "that I am. Thank you sir, you have served well and faithfully. May your Master reward you even so. Do not mourn for us, for we go with joy and perhaps we shall meet again on that Morning which shall know neither darkness nor tears." He bowed formally and motioned for his fellows to enter the ringing stones.

"Wait!" cried a young voice ere more than a step had been taken.

Bayard turned back expectantly and smiled joyously to see an intrepid young squire darting forward. The Knight frowned in consternation, having given no order that the boy should accompany the party and wondering what he intended. Said the Knight sternly, "what are you about boy?"

The lad froze, ready to flee towards the stones or away from them at the merest provocation, said he tremulously, "I would go with them Sir."

The Knight gaped, "go with them? Do you not know what comes of a mortal man who enters therein?"

The boy said stiffly, "you have your calling sir, and I mine. Your duty lies to the south, warding your father's kingdom from all manner of strife and disaster. Mine lies within those stones, whatever it is. Yes sir, gladly will I face this doom, if doom it be."

The knight nodded gravely, "then I cannot bar your way, fare you well lad in whatever betide."

The boy grinned broadly, gave Bayard an impish smile, and dashed among the stones, fading instantly into mist and moonlight. The knights gasped in awe and horror while the Messengers exchanged a longing smile. Of one accord, they nodded a farewell to the knight and followed after the boy, vanishing even as he. The knight shook his head in wonder but soon turned his steps towards his waiting men and his own duty, hoping he had half such a heart as the boy had just shown him and wondering anew at the strange men who had so joyously vanished into a world far beyond his ken. He smiled for sheer joy and knew one day they would meet again on an eternal morning upon that far shore that knew nothing of sorrow or grief. But for now, they had their duty and he his.
Into Shadow:

The crown prince could not sleep. He tossed and turned for nearly two hours that night, unable to settle his uneasy mind or still the unexplained terror coursing through his being. Unnamed fears in the dark had not kept him awake at night since he was a very little boy. Yet here he was, nearly a grown man on the very eve of the long awaited celebration that would mark his coming of age, fretting and restless because of a vague uneasiness about what lurked in the shadows of his own chamber. Ridiculous as it was, this realization did nothing to ease him into a blissful slumber, but then the reason for his uncanny feeling of wrongness presented itself and he wished with all his might that it was only fancy that plagued him. There were deeper shadows among the lesser shades of his room, and these began to whisper and hiss excitedly in an unknown tongue as they drew closer to the bed. The boy crouched deeper beneath the covers and shuddered, knowing there was no weapon that would avail him against such foes, at least until he heard a familiar scornful laugh.

"Come big brother," chastised his younger brother Garot, "why do you cower beneath your covers like a terrified child? At least be man enough to face your doom with equanimity!"

Anger flared in Bayard's heart, anger enough to overcome his terror, at least for a moment. He threw aside the blankets, not that they would be any protection against these mysterious fiends anyway, and glared into the darkness in the direction from which the taunts had come. Said he with a voice as smooth and chill as a winter pond, "what have you to do with this brother?"

The younger scoffed, "why everything of course! It was all my idea after all. Now you will kindly accompany these, um, gentlemen and I will assume your place as heir to the throne. After the proper mourning rituals are observed of course. It is a good thing I look well in black."

"Of course," said the elder, his anger fading and his fear flooding back with twice the vim. The shadows were suddenly upon him, his terror intensified to the point no mortal heart can bear and happily did he fall into unknowing blackness.

"Don't forget the servant," snarled Garot, "we need no witnesses." The servant that stood beside the young prince, having let him into his sleeping brother's chamber on the pretext of some dire situation that could not wait until morning, squeaked in terror and tried to flee, but one of the shadows engulfed him and all suddenly vanished, leaving Garot alone in the empty room. He smiled unseen into the darkness, a look of sheer triumph on his face, and then exited the way he had come. A passing guardsman eyed him oddly as he left his brother's chambers at this strange hour, causing the Prince to sigh, for he knew the man would have to be dealt with as well which would mean more time wasted before he could get his own much needed rest.

The blissful darkness receded and the utter terror returned, along with a good dose of despair, shame, and horror just to keep things interesting. Bayard found himself standing in the midst of a crumbling ruin in the heart of a dark and dripping wood in the grim, flat light of predawn; his eyes strayed to the wide-eyed servant and he rejoiced to know he was not alone in this horrid nightmare, but the shifting wall of wraiths that completely hemmed them in quickly stifled even this minor comfort. A great and terrible roar shook the very foundations of the ruin and sent both mortals and shadows cringing to the overgrown paving stones as a hideous bird, resembling a vulture but large as a draft horse, landed in the middle of the gathering. It leered at them in silence for some time, savoring their terror as a gourmet might a fine morsel, and then it screeched in a harsh tongue which sent the wraiths rushing upon the prisoners. Once each was completely immobilized by half a dozen of the insubstantial beings, the vulturine monstrosity said in the tongue of men, "the choice is before you, pitiable wretches that you are. Become one of my pets or food for them instead. Well?"

The servant quivered in terror but managed to squeak defiantly, "never will I serve you! My Master is faithful even in death!"

The monster chortled in amusement, "so faithful that he allows you to fall into such a predicament with no hope of escape? Very well, you shall have your heart's desire. Watch well Prince, what comes of those who refuse my offer of mercy. We shall see how faithful his master truly is!" He laughed in such a dreadful way that Bayard wished he had never heard of the concept.

The servant's voice suddenly spoke with a confidence that belied his precarious circumstances, "do not forget who wrought you my Prince! Take comfort in the One who traded His glory for our sorrows..." The voice faded away even as the boy himself did. Bayard watched in horrified fascination as the lad began to grow misty and then vanished altogether, apparently absorbed by the shadows that held him, which now seemed far more substantial and looked almost solid with actual features in their once blank faces. He shuddered and looked with dread upon the creatures still holding him. How could he meet such an end? Yet how could he willingly become a creature such as this? The servant had seemed quite bold at the last, yet how could old fairy tales give him such courage? He glanced around at the fell gathering and suddenly began to believe that perhaps all the old myths and legends might not be as improbable as once he had thought them. If such creatures as these could walk the earth, why could not the other stories be true?

He was suddenly a small boy again, enraptured upon his mother's knee as she told him the strangest tale of all. Of a great and glorious King who dwelt far from the sorrows and sins of men, who abandoned it all to walk among that wretched folk. Of his own inglorious end at the hands of those he had come to succor and how he paid the price that man himself could never pay, thus ending forever the terror of death and sin for those who loved him. It was a grand tale and once he had hoped it true, but it was only a story taught to children out of custom and habit in hopes of inculcating morality in their young hearts. His family was strong and need admit no weakness or failing. In general they were good and honorable folk and needed not the mercy of some benevolent being. So he had laid it aside with the other accouterments of childhood and focused on things more befitting a young prince nearing manhood. But his sword would avail him nothing at such a moment, neither would all his lessons in history and arithmetic. The servant was no fool and had faced his end with courage, could he do any less? All this passed through his mind in the few moments during which the servant vanished and then the vile bird turned his burning gaze upon the remaining prisoner.

"Well?" squawked the awful buzzard.

Bayard shuddered, but felt a strange boldness and an inexplicable hope welling up inside his chest in the midst of overwhelming despair. Said he as calmly as if he were taking tea with his mother in the garden, "I will have nothing to do with you or yours sir, do your worst. I am resigned rather to die than become such as these. Fool that I have been, I did not see until this very moment the Truth until death was looking me in the eye, at least I need not die as I have lived. I commend my soul to Him who wrought it and may He have mercy upon me!" The vulture shrugged and Bayard felt cold fingers digging deep into his being and pulling it in six different directions. There was no pain, only a growing sense of thinness about his person, a whelming dark, and then an all consuming light more terrible even than the shadow creatures. The moment before he lost all sense of anything, he thought he heard the sound of galloping hooves that stopped suddenly as a horse screamed and then he knew or perhaps was, nothing but light.

The breathless guard was flung from his horse as it spooked at the dreadful creatures gathered in the courtyard. He caught a brief glimpse of the nearly translucent prince before his vision exploded into stars as he bashed his head on the paving stones. The prince's brother had sent him thither with all haste to see what had come of the crown prince and if there was any hope of rescue, but as he lay stunned on the moist pavement, his sluggish thoughts chastised him for so foolishly walking into an obvious trap. The shadows soon overwhelmed him too and afterwards, some of them almost appeared human. Of these, three returned to the palace to make sure the surviving prince held to his part of the bargain.

The Royal family had gathered as usual for their communal breakfast, it was the one time of day that all of them could be prevailed upon to make an appearance before the demands of the day soon drew them apart. Garot nearly dropped his teacup as his tardy brother entered the room, as if nothing untoward had happened the previous night. He greeted his parents and sister cheerily and stared in horror at his brother who was pale as death. Neither the King and Queen nor their daughter noticed the interaction, save to reply with an automatic greeting of their own, caught up as they were in their own toast and conversation. Bayard took his accustomed place across from his brother and continued to stare in concern, wondering what was wrong with the boy. His brother's unexpected appearance was shock enough to Garot, Bayard's look of worry over his treacherous brother's reaction was even more perplexing. How had he survived? Why was he not declaring him the worst sort of traitor but instead stared at him in grave concern?

Bayard said quietly to his brother, "what ever is the matter Garot? You look as if you have seen a ghost!"

Garot found his tongue and answered in a feeble voice, "I am just stricken dumb at seeing you so full of cheer this morning. I had thought last night might have been rather difficult for you."

Bayard smiled warmly, misunderstanding completely that his brother was not concerned about his health but rather with his own mental stability. Said he, "how did you know I had such a strange nightmare? But it was only a dream and though it began in the most horrible manner imaginable, the end was truly glorious and well worth the initial terror."

Garot eyed him in disbelief. A nightmare?! The boy should be dead or worse! And here he was eating toast as if it were the most natural thing in the world, completely oblivious to his own brother's treachery. He gulped down his tea, mumbled something about a busy day, and hastened from the room. Four sets of perplexed eyes watched him go but soon enough returned to their own thoughts. Garot bolted from the room with as much decorum as possible and then hastened back to his own chamber to think, but there he found three gentlemen or rather creatures resembling gentlemen awaiting him. They looked quite different from the shadowy beings he had barely glimpsed the previous night but the feeling of icy terror that squeezed his heart was certainly the same. Perhaps they could solve this desperate riddle.

Hissed the tallest, "we are come to see that you fulfill your part of the bargain."

Despite his terror, the prince snarled, "what about your part of the deal?" They stared at him blankly and he burst out, "my brother walked into the breakfast room this morning as blithe as a lark and sat there eating jam and toast as if nothing worse than a bad dream had assaulted him last night! He did not even look tired!"

The three exchanged an intrigued look and the tallest spoke again, "he is unaware that anything has happened?"

Garot nodded dully, "he seems completely oblivious. He is neither dead nor declaring me a traitor. What happened last night?"

Their smiles became viciousness itself as the tallest replied, "he would not throw himself upon the mercy of our master, but rather dared us to do our worst, which I assure you we did. The boy is dead whether he knows it or not. The only way such an apparition can now walk the world is if he sold his soul to our Enemy, which he seemed intent on doing with his last breath. This is quite an amusing and useful turn of events."

Garot yelped, "useful! Amusing? Are you mad?"

The wraith replied with a wan smile, "such a creature cannot sit upon a throne of men. He is ineligible according to the very laws that govern creation and even our Enemy dares not defy that particular stipulation though he feels no qualms about thwarting any number of other such strictures as he sees fit. His continued presence, and obliviousness, will shield your own actions and there will be no awkward questions of treason or what came of the missing prince to deal with. It is amusing in that the creature does not know what he is yet his vile master has placed him here for some inexplicable reason and it will be great fun to watch him blunder along without a clue as to what is truly happening."

Garot had relaxed marginally but was still unconvinced, perhaps hoping somehow to avoid fulfilling his own part in this grim bargain. He could see the advantages of his brother's return and seeming obliviousness but he was still unsure the villains had spoken the truth. He must have spoken this last aloud or perhaps they could just sense his doubts, for one of the creatures snarled, "if you must have proof, get him to accompany you into the Veiled Wood and see what happens, though in doing so you may alert him to things we might prefer he remain indefinitely ignorant of."

Garot shuddered again and asked, "what then is he?"

The three exchanged a questioning gaze, as if wondering how much to tell, before the tallest said, "he is a ghost, an apparition, nothing more. He may appear a mortal man, but he can in nowise do anything to harm or hinder other men but can merely blather at them to repent and be good little children. He has no real power or influence in the mortal world. His vile master may have salvaged his soul from death but at what cost? A gust of wind has more ability to influence the world around it and perhaps more will in what it does! He can do nothing of his own accord, but only his fell master's will, and there is little enough he can accomplish even so."

Garot was actually smiling, "my brother is a ghost and does not even know it? He thinks it all a dream! How utterly delightful! I cannot wait to see his reaction when he realizes what an impotent fool he truly is."

Said the tallest grimly, "do not forget your own part of the bargain, sire, in your mirth." Garot's amusement turned suddenly sour at the thought.

Bayard watched his brother leave, but knew the boy would hardly be forthcoming if his despised older brother followed after to ask what was truly the matter. He exchanged a curious glance with the rest of the family and then they all returned to their eggs. He felt remarkably well for how little sleep he had actually had the previous night, not to mention the troubling dream. He ate more out of pleasure than hunger and soon excused himself to attend to his morning sword practice. As he left the breakfast room, he acquired a silent shadow that ghosted after him into the fencing yard wherein one of the guardsmen awaited the young prince. The guard eyed the servant that had followed the prince quizzically before greeting the Prince, who returned the greeting and immediately leapt into the sword forms as he warmed up. The pair stared at the lad as if he had not gone through the same ritual nearly every morning since he was old enough to hold a sword. The prince missed their odd expression as he focused on his routine but they quickly covered their surprise and drew aside to speak quietly together upon the phenomenon.

The servant shook his head, "he seems completely ignorant of the fact that last night was not a bad dream, yet had he yielded to the Shadow we would feel it! I do not know what came of him after they had their way with me but I cannot believe he escaped unscathed."

The guard nodded, "had he turned to our Enemy, they would have done far worse than kill him yet neither did he escape. I saw him for a moment before my horse threw me, I could see right through him! Then they were upon me and I knew nothing more. Yet here he is as oblivious as if nothing untoward had befallen him while we are well aware of our situation." He frowned, scratching his jaw thoughtfully, "there must be a reason for it, but I am certainly not wise enough to discern what it might be."

The servant grinned, "perhaps it is to frustrate our enemies as much as it perplexes us? That and perhaps to keep peace in the realm on this auspicious day, especially with so many foreign guests come to celebrate his coming of age." They watched silently as the boy continued his warm up exercises, completely oblivious to the fact that he neither grew weary nor perspired, and that his current physical form needed no such exercise to perform at peak efficiency. He finished his routine and stood waiting patiently for his opponent. The guard nodded a farewell to his companion, drew his blade, and approached his sparring partner. The servant watched their match for a few moments and then withdrew to the keep to continue in his assigned duties. Just inside the door a firm hand settled on his shoulder and he found himself eye to eye with a frowning Garot, who studied him a moment and then motioned towards a small side chamber with his head. They entered the small room and the prince secured the door behind them.

The prince rounded on the servant demanding, "who or what are you? Are you too completely ignorant of all that came to pass last night?"

The servant was neither frightened nor intimidated as he once might have been by his former lord, but rather stood silent and straight as every good servant has been taught to do during awkward moments. Said he in a quiet, but quite calm and respectful manner, "I know full well that you are a traitor highness and that the blood of three men, one your own brother, stains your hands. I cannot say exactly what happened last night but it was certainly horrible and that you have thrown yourself into the sway of an evil more vile than mortals dare dream. I do not know why your brother continues in ignorance, but I and the betrayed guard know full well what it is you have wrought."

Snarled the prince, "so why have you not yet raised the cry of traitor against me?"

The servant shook his head, "who would believe my word against yours? Especially when your victims still appear among the living? Besides, it is not my place or duty to expose you, Sire."

The boy smirked, "afraid are we?"

The servant snorted, "you no longer have any power over me, Majesty. You have killed me already, and that is all the power one man may have over another. As to who or what I am and what my current duties are, that is none of your concern. I would look to your own soul ere it is too late."

The prince scowled but said quite calmly, "there are plans afoot, the least of which is of such pure brilliance your puny mind could never comprehend. Whatever you are, I know you and your ilk for the meddlers you are, I also know that you can do little to thwart a yet living man. As you have no fear of me, neither do I fear you and yours, most especially my impotent and clueless brother! Very well, do whatever it is you have come for, but know that it will avail you nothing." He stormed from the chamber and the servant silently watched him go, wondering what the boy was up to and what game his shadowy masters were truly playing.

When Bayard finished his sword practice, wondering anew at how fresh and energetic he still felt even after what was usually a grueling workout, he found his brother waiting for him at the edge of the practice yard. Bayard handed his sword to the guard, thanked him for the practice, and then approached Garot. After the proper courtesies, the younger prince asked if the elder might not accompany him on a brief ride in the country. Bayard was taken aback at this outward show of interest from a brother who was usually distant if not completely contemptuous of his elder sibling. Perhaps whatever had unsettled him earlier had made him eager to mend the breach that had been widening between them over the last few years. Bayard readily agreed and they were soon in their saddles and venturing off into the fine weather and pleasant countryside, Bayard hoping for a renewal of their former brotherly affection, Garot hoping to confirm the strange words of his shadowy companions.

Once they were well and truly alone, Bayard asked in quiet concern, "what happened at breakfast this morning brother? I have never seen you look so distraught. Did you too have a night of uneasy dreams?"

Garot barely refrained from gaping outright, wondering how his brother could continue to be so blatantly blind to the truth and piqued by the concern he heard tingeing his brother's voice. A foolish part of him wanted to mend the gap growing between them, but his far more practical side said that could never be. He gathered his wits and said as calmly as he could muster, "I too was afflicted with unsettling visions in the night and was nearly convinced I would never see you more, thus was I quite startled to see you hale and whole this morning."

Bayard continued to misunderstand his brother and warbled joyously, "I am glad you proposed this outing, even if it will give the Steward and half the servants apoplexy when they realize how I am 'wasting' the morning when I should be preparing for the festivities! Long have I mourned the widening chasm that has opened between us and I am heartened to know it need remain so no longer." He turned then with radiant eyes upon his brother, who could only envy him his joy and despise his gullibility, as he continued. "where are we going?"

Garot's heart caught in his throat, how to broach the subject of their destination without arousing suspicion or a downright refusal? No man willingly entered the Veiled Wood that was perpetually wrapped in mist and shadow! It was no natural forest, but rather a relic of ancient days, steeped in magic and myth, where anything might happen and often did. Time did not run in a straight course, if it passed at all in that place and anything out of legend might lurk within its confines and certainly things for which even the stories had no name, for no mortal had ever looked upon them and returned to tell the tale. How could he convince his brother to even enter the shadows of such a place on a day when he shouldn't be riding at all? The choice was taken from him however when Bayard softly mused, "I know it sounds mad, but as I gazed out on the world from my bedchamber this morning, I felt my heart drawn to the Veiled Wood." He stared at his brother in consternation, "why of all places would I want to go there, especially on such a day?" He frowned, "will you come with me?"

Garot snorted a laugh, "it is a mad scheme, but why not? It will be nice to escape the formality and chaos of the palace for a few hours before we are both reduced to fashionable figureheads for the remainder of the celebration, and if nothing else, at least no one will think to look for us there." They exchanged an eager grin and urged their horses to a faster pace, unwittingly returning to the easy friendship they had known in their boyhood, before jealousy had stirred in Garot's heart and mortally wounded his affection for his brother and destroyed his innocence. Half an hour later they sat their horses on the brink of the Wood. The creatures tossed their heads, swished their tails, and stomped their feet in agitation, uneasy in the presence of the uncanny wood. The boys dismounted, secured their mounts well away from the offending trees, and then exchanged a zealous grin, feeling as bold and invincible as they had not in many years. Then they plunged into the trees.

It was an ancient wood, perhaps as old as the world. The trees were widely scattered and towered overhead like the pillars in the hall of a great king. Mist carpeted the floor and only a perpetual twilight lingered under the boughs, even at midday in the height of summer; a tomblike hush fell over the Wood as the trespassers violated that sacred ground, but it was not the silence of emptiness but rather that of watchful eyes warding their secrets from the uninitiated. Their original zeal was soon buried under the weight of those unseen watchers and their disapprobation. They exchanged a wary look and of one accord darted back out into the brilliant light of a mortal day, leaving that tomb of immortal secrets again to itself. But Garot had had his proof and was even certain his brother had noticed nothing but the uneasy feeling of unseen eyes upon them. Garot was not sure exactly what to expect, but somehow that unearthly wood could not abide whatever mask veiled Bayard's true form, even from himself, under the mortal sun. Amidst the gloom of those ancient trees, the façade had melted away to reveal that his brother was no longer the hapless youth he appeared, yet neither was he the ghost Garot had expected. He still looked very much as he always had, but all lit through with a strange inner light, as if he were a lamp with a flame at its heart. His boyishness had matured to the full strength of manhood yet with the immortal youth and vitality of a little boy. Humor and wisdom and joy sparkled in his eyes and radiated from every feature and he carried himself with a confidence that defied his boyish ignorance.

Garot shuddered at the memory and hastened back to the waking world as much to be rid of the vision as to escape the oppression of the Wood. Garot stood panting beside his horse as Bayard looked wistfully back at the distant trees, not even breathing hard. Snapped the younger, "what is so fascinating about that place even after it sent you scurrying from its shadows like a spooked squirrel?"

Bayard directed his attention back to his brother, a far off look in his eyes, "I do not know? I certainly felt out of place there, a veritable intruder into things far deeper and older than I, yet I also feel a kinship with that place, strange as it seems. It feels strangely like home."

"Do not be ridiculous, child!" laughed an unfamiliar voice like a hundred joyous bells, continued she, "no mortal can feel at home in the Veiled Wood, it is completely incongruous to mortal flesh."

They turned wide eyes upon the speaker and saw they had not left the Wood unaccompanied, for a troop of one of the elfin races stood loosely about them with a very grand lady in their midst, it was she who had spoken. They bowed awkwardly in their surprise and she laughed all the more, continued she, "now would you be so kind as to give me directions to the Royal Residence hereabouts? I and my company are invited to the ball this evening to commemorate the crown prince's coming of age."

Garot gaped like a fish, completely overcome by the beauty and grace of the brilliant creature before him, but Bayard seemed totally unaffected as he said politely, "greetings fair Lady, we would happily accompany you back to the palace, for we are the very sons of the Sovereign of this land."

She turned keen eyes upon the pair, studied them for a moment with her predatory gaze, and said with a brittle laugh, "how fortunate. Lead on good sirs." Though she did not seem in the least impressed with their bearing or appearance for all their proclamations of royal heritage, but then what was a mortal King but dust, even at the height of his glory, to one who might live as long as Time itself? They hastily mounted their horses and led the small party back to the palace where they were received with the greatest awe and reverence, for few mortal men had ever seen any of the fairy folk under the mortal sun. The young princes were welcomed back for another reason, as the Steward and his minions had all but despaired of the festivities, for if the lads did not return soon all would be ruined if they were not assiduously prepared. So it was that even as their horses clattered into the courtyard, the servants grabbed hold of the erring lads and bore them bodily off to garb them in unrivaled splendor for the night's celebration. Bayard wished helplessly to return to the gloom and oppression of the wood as the inexorable host fell upon him and groomed, dandied, and stuffed him into stiff and frilly garb more befitting a stodgy noble widow trying to win an aging lord rather than the young heir to the crown. He silently mused if facing the shadow creatures of his nightmare would have been less frightening.

Garot's only comfort was that his three vile accomplices were also forced to wear similarly horrendous fashions or appear starkly out of place amongst the finery of the gathered courtiers and foreign lords and ladies come to celebrate Bayard's coming of age, an irony which was lost on none of the foursome who knew what had truly transpired the previous night. Garot hissed contentedly to one of the wraiths, "what would all these fops and dandies think if they knew the star of the evening had not lived to truly come of age? And worse, he is not even aware of it himself yet must suffer through these mawkish festivities as if he had! It is beautifully ironic! I did not know his fell master could be so cruel!" The shadows shared his mirth and laughed the more at the ignorant fool clad even more foppishly than themselves. Garot glimpsed the odd servant and guard occasionally through the course of the evening, though they kept a surreptitious eye on the oblivious prince and eyed Garot's vile companions with malice, nothing more transpired with the uncanny pair.

During the various courses of the extensive meal and the dances that followed, eligible ladies from all across the known world made their presence and interest, or at least the interest of their fathers, known to Bayard for he would one day need to choose a bride from among such noble stock, at least if things had been different. None courted his interest more than the Lady of the Wood, who continually used her numerous charms and wiles to win his heart for her own, though to her continuing astonishment he never seemed to show her even the slightest interest, at least beyond that due a guest of the court at a royal function. No mortal man should be able to withstand her persona and the magic thereabouts but the boy continued as if impervious. Flummoxed and frustrated, she approached his younger brother and was glad to see him obviously smitten from almost the first moment of this second meeting. He gazed at her with glazing, dreamy eyes and a transfixed smile gracing his gaping mouth; much better. She frowned in consternation at the crown prince who was chatting with a gaggle of silly girls by one of the doors opening into the gardens, at least their charms were as inefficient as her own.

Said a snide voice at her shoulder, drawing her suddenly back from her perplexity, "having trouble charming that particular snake my Lady?"

She turned a villainous gaze upon the impudent fellow who would dare address her thus, but started back in horror when she realized it was no man that intruded himself upon her. "What do you want, shadow?" grated she.

A dyspeptic smile appeared on his face as he continued, "I just want to know what you are about madam? My master has his own plans for this meager fiefdom and I would not have you interfering in affairs you know nothing about, but perhaps we can be of mutual benefit to one another."

A distasteful look crossed her porcelain features but was quickly hidden as she said, "I am looking to extend my demesnes and if I can bewitch the future King, perhaps the Wood can one day cover all his lands."

The shadow's smile grew less painful and far more sincere, "then I think we can be of use to one another. My master has decried that this land and its people must soon be swallowed by the Shadow in whatever guise it might take: tyranny, enslavement, full acceptance of evil, or destruction, it matters not. I assume with your own acquisition of this land that its current residents will no longer trouble the mortal sphere?" Her smile was answer enough. He continued, "excellent, then I shall tell you of how things stand at the moment in this vile realm. Your charms will not work because your target is dead."

She stared at him as if he were mad and he smiled at her astonishment, "he does not even know it himself. His own brother betrayed him to the Shadow last night. I consumed him myself yet he thinks it only a nightmare." He held up a hand and gazed at it appreciatively before continuing, "as such he cannot ever hope to sit upon the throne in his own turn and neither will your meager flirtations arouse an ardor that died with his mortal flesh. I do not know why he has returned, most especially in ignorance of his own fate, but as far as our plans are concerned, he is no longer a factor. You do well to seduce the younger brother, who has promised much to my master in his own plots against his brother, adding another wedge between them can only make things more interesting. I assume once the crown and kingdom are rightfully yours the unfortunate King shall meet with a mysterious end?" She smiled wickedly at him and then they began to plot in earnest while Garot looked on uncomprehending in his bewitchment with the lady. The ever vigilant servant and guard looked on uneasily.

In the wee hours of the morning, at last the wearied partygoers retired to their quarters. The Elfin Lady had continued her attentions to Bayard, if only to make his brother jealous and more entranced by her charms. The youth was nigh unto fratricide by the time all finally retired wearily to bed, and Garot was hard pressed to remind himself that he had already killed his brother so there really was no practical point in attempting it again. He withdrew with his shadowy companions to plot in private while the unnamed menials of the castle invaded the abandoned venue to commence the cleanup.

Bayard found himself pacing restlessly in the gardens, feeling neither weary nor infatuated as was typical after such an evening, especially with the attentions that had been heaped upon him, yet neither was he disgusted as he felt he should be at the games played by flirtatious young ladies and their scheming relatives. Instead, he just felt a contentment and a peace that passed all understanding, a feeling he knew could not be rooted in the fleeting mortal world. He also sensed that he had some important duty to be about and would do so eagerly, if only he could determine what it was. There had been other little strangenesses throughout the day, little oddities that should have been otherwise but were not in themselves reason for concern, but all together they made him uneasy.

Such functions always exhausted him yet he felt ready at that moment to climb a mountain if one were available. He ceased his pacing and gazed questioningly up at the stars, envying them their confidence and full knowledge of their course through the heavens, wondering if he would ever know such certainty. He sighed heavily and turned to face the intruder he sensed approaching from the adjacent ballroom. He could not hide the quizzical smile that quirked his lips as a certain servant and guardsman approached, oblivious to the dark looks of the other servants setting the ballroom to rights at their backs. With unspoken accord, they meandered deeper into the darkened gardens where they might speak in private. Bayard noted none of them stumbled in the gloom though there was neither torch nor moon to light the way.

Finally alone save for the stars and a few flitting moths, the Prince halted and turned to study his companions with interest. "You were there," said he at last, in a voice hardly audible. He turned questioning eyes upon them, "it was not a dream then?"

"No my lord," said the servant quietly, "the nightmare was quite real."

Bayard nodded thoughtfully but arched an eyebrow, "you need not be so formal my friend, at least when there are no appearances to maintain, we have but one Lord now." He frowned, "how do I know that?"

The guard grinned like a naughty little boy anticipating some new mischief, "you know far more than you think, but your mind has not yet wrapped itself around the possibilities. But you have been suspicious for most of the day, have you not?"

The former prince nodded slowly, a glint in his eye and a slight smile on his lips, "yes, today has been different, nothing I could quite put a finger on or name specifically but so many little things that all added together said something strange or terrible had taken place." He turned to the servant, joy and horror touching his voice, "I watched what came of you for your defiance yet your steadfastness and confidence at the last stirred thoughts and hopes I long thought buried or forgotten." He reached out a grateful hand and squeezed the man's shoulder, "you saved my soul from utter night."

The servant glanced awkwardly at his feet, shook his head, and returned his gaze to that of the late prince, "nay sir, it was our Master and He alone that can do that, but I am heartened to hear that you understood at the last. I never did take you for a believing man, sir, and feared greatly for you last night. Come morning I was both astonished, joyous, and perplexed as to what your presence here and complete ignorance of what had come to pass might mean."

Bayard shook his head in remembrance, "at first I thought it all a dream, a horrid and glorious vision of the night. The beginning was worse than anything I could imagine but afterward..." He trailed off in awe and wonder, finding no words to express what he had seen and known after the darkness consumed him utterly, but the wonderment written on the faces of his companions said they too had seen it and he need not, and likely could not, describe it. His smile was joy itself, "I am glad it was not a dream." His voice became practical again as he drew the others back from climes of utmost joy, "but why did I remain in ignorance?"

The question was merely rhetorical, but then he remembered the guard's suggestion that he knew more than he thought if only he could wrestle his mind into accepting the strangeness of this new reality in which he found himself. After a moment of careful thought he answered his own query, "the schemes of our enemies would have benefited much from the sudden chaos surrounding my mysterious disappearance or if I had returned and acted strangely, knowing myself something other than what I had always been. With the worst of the celebration over and having had time to grow used to the idea that my mortal days are truly at an end, now we can continue to move forward as if nothing untoward has happened and the entire Kingdom can continue on as ever it has, oblivious to what has passed in the night." He turned a questioning gaze upon his two companions, "my only remaining question is: what exactly are we?"

The guard and the servant exchanged a wondering look and turned back to the prince, shaking their heads. Said the guard, "we have as little idea as you, save that we knew last night had been no dream and that there is some nefarious plot afoot, imperiling all the Kingdom and we were sent to stop it. Your brother, his three vile companions, and now the Lady of the Wood are all involved."

The prince nodded and said with quiet certainty, "and stop them we will."

All eyes were suddenly drawn in surprise and horror to some stifled giggling behind one of the nearby shrubs, their acute night vision easily penetrating the shadows. Bayard shivered, wondering what the spy had overheard and what was to be done about it, especially as the person in question was his own sister. He called her out into the open and she sheepishly complied, chagrined that her mirth had been overheard. Said she without preamble, "what strange language were you three gabbing in? I have never heard such goings on!" The three visibly relaxed as they realized the girl had overheard them but apparently had been unable to understand them, keeping her ignorant of the plots afoot in the Kingdom and of their own precarious fate.

Bayard said sternly, "Kara, what are you doing out here at this hour?"

She raised her chin and stared at him in an imperious manner, every inch the offended lady, said she, "that is none of your business sir, but I could ask you the same. I was curious as to why you withdrew to the garden when all sensible folk sought their beds and then you chose to fraternize with a servant and a mere guardsman to boot! I smelled an intrigue and hastened to have my part in it. You aren't planning to marry that horrid Lady of the Wood are you?"

Bayard smiled in spite of his irritation, he had always had a soft spot in his heart for his intrepid little sister and she was far too young and naïve to yet be involved in the treachery now stalking the court, of which his murder had been but the beginning. And he could not but agree with her pert assertions about the Lady of the Wood, for there was something he found quite unsettling about her and he had seen Garot's apparent infatuation; she would certainly bear watching. He schooled his voice and features to blandness, not that she could see his face in the dark, but said, "you needn't worry about me marrying anyone, at least any time soon. And as for my choice of companions, that is my affair as your presence here is yours, but you are wise to be wary of that elfin lady and I will do the same."

She harrumphed, "Garot seems quite taken with her."

"Yes," said Bayard uneasily, a new thought occurring to him. Whatever his strange proclivities, he also knew he could no longer lay claim to the crown which left Garot heir to the throne and if that bewitching lady won his heart, she could claim the Kingdom for her own. The others came to the same understanding and exchanged an uneasy gaze. Continued he, "that would be terrible indeed, but come Kara, why are you so intent on having a part in an intrigue?"

She pouted sweetly, "life is ever so dull for a princess! You boys get to go riding off whenever the spirit takes you and can practice the sword and learn history. I get to learn etiquette and dancing and delicate handicrafts. I want an adventure, I want to do something that matters."

Bayard nodded soberly, "you may have more adventure in your life than you will ever want again and sooner than you might think. There are indeed plots afoot at the moment, some vile indeed. I would advise you to keep your distance from all of it." She looked on the verge of protesting but he raised a hand to silence her as he continued, "adventure will come to you my dear, never doubt that, but if you go meddling in affairs not your own there are many who would trod you underfoot and not even notice they had done so. You shall have your adventure, but if people think you a threat or a nuisance you shan't live to see it. Trust no one with this Kara, most especially Garot and his three vile companions and that dreadful Lady, save perhaps myself and my two companions. If you discover something or are ever in danger, summon us, no matter how futile it seems, and we shall come to your aide." She stared at him, though whether in disbelief or affront or eagerness or all three he could not tell. He finished by chivying her to bed, at which she did not balk over much, and then returned his attention to his companions.

"You think the crown must pass to her?" asked the servant at last.

The guard shook his head, "it certainly cannot pass to the surviving prince, at least with the blood of his brother on his hands and his fellowship with evil. I wonder what he promised those wraiths in exchange for disposing of you, Sire?"

Bayard shuddered, "I am not sure I want to know, but it cannot be good. How are we to deal with this situation if we cannot physically thwart the intentions of mortal men?" This last thought had suddenly occurred to him and he knew it true even as he spoke it.

The others shook their heads and at last the servant spoke, "we must watch and advise as we may, perhaps we can awaken others to the danger that they might work against our mortal foes." A grim smile grew on his lips, "we are however not helpless against those three shadowy villains or the Lady and her ilk." The others smiled in comprehension as their task suddenly became clear and how it was to be accomplished took form in their minds. Of all their foes, only Garot lay beyond their ability to physically influence, but they could still speak with him upon the matter, though Bayard doubted he would listen to such advice. They soon ghosted back to their accustomed duties and places, hoping to avoid any unwanted notice or comment upon their unseemly behavior.

Bayard found himself alone in his quarters, glanced dismissively at the bed and knew he no longer required sleep, which left him the remainder of the night to think over all that the day had revealed. His heart wanted to quiver in fear for this threat to his realm, but a deep confidence rooted firmly in a Truth that was before and would outlast Time itself held him firm. Gone were all the doubts, petty thoughts, selfish desires, and nagging fears that had plagued him only the day before. He hardly knew what he now was and knew even less of the Master he had sworn to serve with his dying breath, but felt such an unshakable confidence and eager hope, that he wondered at his former disbelief. No wonder the servant had died with such confidence, how had he never seen it before? But at least he had not died blind and now he had all eternity before him, in which he might serve his new Lord in ways he could not even yet imagine. The thought filled him with an eagerness and joy he could ill contain.

"Put out that horrid light!" snarled a grating voice.

Bayard turned suddenly towards the door where an inky black stain was seeping through the crack and from whence the demand had come. Only then did he realize what the intruder was talking about, for his own being was alight with a blaze of white fire that one could hardly look upon, most especially a servant of evil. Unsure exactly how he did it, he somehow veiled the terrible glare even as he continued to stare at the shadow that had invaded his quarters. As the light dimmed, the creature felt comfortable in fully entering the bedchamber and soon resolved itself into the tallest of Garot's three shadowy friends. Sneered the wraith, "so you have finally discovered it was not a bad dream after all?"

"What do you want?" asked the boy without fear or hesitation.

The creature smiled grimly, "I had hoped to terrify you for my own amusement, but it seems you have finally realized the truth of the matter. Now I am merely curious."

Bayard stared stonily at the insolent creature, "you invade my quarters and have the audacity to ask after my affairs?"

The creature snorted in amusement, "what use have we for such paltry mortal concepts such as buildings and rooms? As for your private affairs, I could care less, as they cannot much avail you. You are no threat to my plans, merely a nuisance. I was rather more curious about your own acceptance of what has happened."

The boy eyed him curiously in turn, for the first time truly comprehending the strange new world in which he now dwelt. Here was a creature that had experience in this intriguing sphere and for a moment he felt something of kinship to the disreputable man, but then he recalled that his companion may perhaps be a creature beyond mortal experience, but he was also sworn utterly to evil. They might exchange a few superficial words upon professional matters, but in the end they had no more in common than light with darkness. Said he quietly, "sir, I hardly know what it is I have begun."

The creature smirked, "no doubt, as only this morning you thought it all a bad dream! How can your Master leave you in such utter ignorance and expect you to serve him effectively, unless he means to be intentionally cruel? But I am unsure which would be worse: serving an incompetent or someone who is wantonly cruel."

Bayard cocked an eyebrow, "as your own master is the latter I suppose you should have firsthand knowledge of it, but as for my Master, you know nothing of the matter so do not speak in ignorance of things you little understand. I may be the least of His servants, but that does not mean I doubt Him or His wisdom. Do not bother wasting words trying to undermine my soul, I am no mortal creature still vulnerable to such doubts and fears."

The creature smiled, genuinely this time, and said approvingly, "so there is fire in you my Prince, excellent! This shall be an interesting game after all. After last night I thought things might prove rather dull."

The boy's voice was cold and sharp as hard steel, "this is no game creature, these are the lives and souls of an entire Kingdom and I will oppose you with every fiber in my being. What then are you?"

The vile man smiled eagerly but it was tinged with malice, "I do not take kindly to threats boy, but I am glad to have a worthy opponent. Last night I mistook you for a simpering coward, but then the fickle mortal wretch that you were stood no chance against such as I." He gazed approvingly at his empty hands in the firelight and smiled in delight, "what am I? Thanks to you and your two foolish friends, I am at last something besides a Shadow." A flash of revulsion crossed the boy's face, the creature savored it, and then continued, "yes, I was like you once, a weak and pathetic mortal man. Unlike you, I did not refuse the offer given by the Great One but embraced it fully and for a time became a Shade, a shapeless bit of blackness lurking in the corners and doing what little mischiefs fell to my lot. Eventually I worked my way up in my master's favor and became a Shadow, still a bit of blackness but at least with shape and eyes. Such you remember from last night I am sure, for I am one of those that consumed your very life and being, and in doing so I have become a Wraith. Still a being of Shadow, but one that can move about freely among mortal men in a visage similar to their own, thus can I work even greater mischief and tragedy among them!"

"You are not unopposed," said the boy stonily, aghast that his own life could fuel such evil.

The menace laughed heartily, "of course not you simpleton! Your wretched kind has been meddling in the affairs of my master since he first convinced a mortal soul to serve him thus!"

Bayard turned away for a moment to regain his composure at the rebuke, reminding himself that he need not fear this creature, whatever its age or power. The creature's hearty laughter drew the boy's gaze suddenly back to the villain as the Wraith continued, "you don't even know what you are, do you? You have a hard enough time comprehending that you are dead, that this world that was once your own no longer holds a place for you, that you are a creature out of place and time, adrift in a sea of possibility with neither compass nor star to guide you! How perfectly delightful!" He continued to laugh and guffaw at his nemesis's naiveté, but gradually regained some semblance of composure. He schooled his face to calmness but his lips kept twitching in involuntary mirth as he finally said, "I will tell you a little then, in hopes that you will answer my original question."

The boy frowned in incomprehension and the creature was again consumed by uncontrolled laughter, but at last he reclaimed his tongue and went on, "why would I, your sworn enemy, try and enlighten one such as you? Why would I care to know your reaction to this strange new world you inhabit? I am not sure, curiosity perhaps? It is not kindness or a wish to be helpful, but perhaps that is the one thing I miss about my current occupation: it leaves little room for companionship or warmth of any kind. My masters and colleagues are all out for their own advancement and power; failure is cruelly punished. I do not regret my choice, but having once been human, I yet crave friendship and good conversation from time to time. Your kind are perhaps the only ones I may safely indulge in this minor vice with, for you will not betray me to my grim masters or my enemies within our own ranks, neither have you exchanged your humanity for raw power. Mortals would have no comprehension of such matters so I am stuck with you."

The boy stared at him aghast and the creature suddenly realized how foolish he had been, exposing himself thus to anyone, for if his own masters heard of his infidelity, they would soon make an end of him. The boy seemed to understand this and said quietly, "is there no hope of redemption for such as you? If you regret what you have done, can you not escape?"

The creature eyed the shadows for a moment, hoping there was not an unseen spy listening to this compromising conversation before he continued, "I said I did not regret my decision, I repeat that I just miss certain aspects of my former humanity, that is all. And no, there is no way out for either of us, the decision cannot be changed once we are free of our mortal constraints. You have freely chosen the Light and I the Dark, we shall see who is triumphant at the last but our side in this war for reality cannot now change. As to what you are, you and your kind are the Master's answer to Wraiths, Shadows, and even Shades. You are men beyond death, sworn to the Master, who have agreed to return to the mortal world to oppose such villains as myself. In the tongue of men, you are called Messengers. Now, what of your part of the bargain?"

Bayard stared at the creature in surprise, wondering if he could trust this Servant of Lies, but what was there to trust or distrust? How could his description of his feelings relating to the whole affair influence any one or thing for good or ill? In truth, he knew what the creature truly sought, a brief glimpse into the world he had willingly abandoned for a life of power, greed, darkness, despair, and fear. He wished to remember what it was to have been a man, who still had some glimmer of hope before him rather than an eternity enslaved to the dark. Bayard took pity on his wretched foe, also knowing he too yearned to share the tumultuous emotions and experiences of the last day, for he too had once been a mortal man, but whereas his companion lived among dust and shadows, joy was ever at his own side. At last he said with a heavy sigh, "what then would you have me tell? You saw for yourself my terror and despair at the last, my dying plea for mercy, the ending of it all, and after there are not words in the mortal tongue to describe what befell me nor would you, a servant of death and evil, understand."

The creature shook its head, "nay, nay, I care nothing for that, it was quite obvious what you endured in your last hours and after; I can hardly stomach the idea! Tell me rather of this strange day, what it was like to awake once more in your own bed, an utterly changed creature yet hardly aware of it. That alone, of all your ordeal, has the makings of a good tale, or at least a mildly interesting one. I must say, the irony was quite delicious in and of itself."

He told then of his awakening, his remembrance of a horrid dream with a glorious ending. Of the little oddities he had encountered throughout the day and he laughed heartily with his companion at the idea of a coming of age celebration for one already dead. Finally he told of the night dark garden and his brief envy of the stars, the rest of the tale was not one he could share with such a fiend. Said the grim creature after the boy trailed off and said no more, "you are leaving something out, but I suppose you know that and will not trouble yourself on my account lest you betray the confidence of others. Keep your secrets, they matter nothing to me. So how are you going to save your realm?" The boy smiled knowingly but only shook his head. "Bah!" scoffed the villain, "I do not even know why I wasted my time this night!"

The boy said quietly, "because you truly do regret your decision and some part of you still yearns for that which shall never again be yours, save in brief moments when you can forget your lot and live through the experiences of others."

The thing shrieked in agony and rage, as if a mortally stricken cat of remarkable size, and leapt upon the boy. Taken completely unawares, lulled into complacency by this strange conversation, Bayard stood little chance of blocking the dagger that buried itself suddenly in his heart. A blinding flash sent the attacker reeling and when he could look again, the boy was gone. He smiled to himself, melted into a pool of shadow, and slithered out of the room. Regretful indeed! He was actually digging for information that might aid him in countering whatever these fools were planning, at least that is what he told himself.

Out in the garden, the moon had finally risen and illuminated the creeping mists with a weird glow while the flowers and statuary and shrubs cast strange shadows upon the walls and pathways. One patch of mist seemed almost solid and perhaps glowed a little more brightly than the rest, but there were none there to see but an old owl blinking sleepily in a willow by the pond and he kept his own counsel. The recalcitrant patch of mist soon groaned, sat up, and revealed itself to be a young man apparently born of the mystical union of mist and moonlight, but this was no romantic tale out of ancient days but rather the return of the wayward prince after his rather embarrassing exit. He glanced at his softly glowing form and wryly schooled his being to opacity, wondering when he would become used to this new occupation, hoping it would not take all eternity to do so. He paced the familiar old paths for some hours, simply enjoying the night and its peace, going over all that had happened to him of late.

Wherever it was that he had vanished to in the interim, it was hard to leave, to return to this mortal sphere with all its resident doubt and sorrow, but he knew if he did not return, things would go badly for the entire Kingdom and perhaps beyond; besides, he knew it pleased his Master and he knew no greater joy. Someday he could go back to that other place and not return, but he was starting to find his new occupation both intriguing and exhilarating as he had never before found even his greatest enjoyments in waking life.

A certain servant found him wandering amidst the rose bushes planted by a Queen a hundred years dead as a faint pink light bloomed in the east. Said the lad, "the Lady of the Veiled Wood has asked you and your brother to accompany her on a short tour of her country this morning, my Lord."

Bayard knew by the lad's formality that he thought himself watched so he replied in like manner, "you may tell her Ladyship that I would be honored to accompany her on such an outing." Truly he was drawn to that strange wood and wondered at the attraction.

The Wraith that had visited him last evening approached as the servant departed, a highly amused grin on his face, "so you shall accompany your brother then? It should be an interesting ride, especially to one of your proclivities."

"You think to just walk up and resume our conversation as if nothing has happened?" asked the boy just as blandly.

The other laughed, "what else should I do Highness? I have already killed you in truth, what is one more skirmish between such dear foes, eh? It might be the first time but will be far from the last, as I am sure you will also return the favor in days to come let us not be bitter upon the matter, shall we? I thought perhaps you had a question you had wished to ask last evening but never had the chance."

The lad nodded, "I doubt you will answer me, but what has my brother offered your master for your part in all of this?"

The fiend laughed heartily, "you are correct there lad, that is strictly between the parties that struck the bargain and those sent to see it fulfilled. Do you have a question less fraught with controversy you'd rather ask instead?"

The boy smiled ruefully, "actually, I was wondering why I feel such a strange affinity for that Cursed Wood. I felt it both when the subject of this ride was broached and also yesterday when my brother thought it a fine place for our morning outing, though I begin to wonder what his own motives were."

The Wraith answered, "that is a good question and happily one I can answer. Do you know what the Wood is?"

The boy shook his head and said, "I only know the old stories: that it is a place where Time moves differently, if at all, that it is home to all manner of strange and fantastic creatures, that it is a place far older than any Kingdom of men."

The other nodded, "truth, at least in part, or as good an answer as mortal men can contrive. It is a strange place, where both the laws of space and time are bent and flow far differently than in the outside world. There are places there where Eternity touches the mortal sphere and that is why you are drawn to it, for it is your true home, not this wretched mortal plane. It is like calling to like. It is a place neither consumed by the Shadow nor claimed by your Master, but rather ruled and inhabited by many races and creatures foreign to the sensibilities of men. They have no use for the mortal race and avoid them as a rule. Neither do they have an interest in the ongoing war between the Light and Dark and so too do they have little interest in creatures such as ourselves, mere foot soldiers in that ancient war. They wish to dwell apart and live as they would, little troubling themselves with the affairs of the outside world."

Asked the boy, "what was my brother's intent yesterday in going thither?"

The other barked a laugh, "he needed to reassure himself that you were truly dead." The boy frowned and the creature continued, "we cannot hide our true forms in that place, it strips away the mirage and reveals us for what we are."

The boy nodded in comprehension and wondered what the Lady would think of such a revelation, but then the way she had spoken so eagerly with this creature and his companions at the ball likely meant she already knew his true nature, so what was the point in getting them alone in the Wood? A cold fist seemed to squeeze his heart as he wondered what effect that place, combined with the Lady's close proximity, might have upon a mortal mind and heart. Garot had seemed besotted with the Lady last evening and she had barely paid him any notice, this could be a very dangerous ride for the unwary youth. Said he at last, "what if she manages to capture his heart and draw it away from your fell master?"

The fiend shrugged, "we have an understanding and if she becomes treacherous, we shall deal with her as we must."

Bayard said with widening eyes, "you are looking for an excuse to invade the Wood in your master's name."

The creature smiled but it was far from cheerful, "excellent young one, and you thought your puny Kingdom was of any interest to my master when he could have the entire Wood to call his own. A pity such a mind could not see the wisdom in serving my master!"

Bayard said coldly, "I have found my place and am happy therein."

The other laughed loudly, raised an arm in farewell, and vanished with a hearty, "enjoy your ride."

As Bayard returned to the palace, the guard and servant met him at the door, each wearing an identical and very disapproving frown. He stopped and stared at them, "whatever is the matter?"

The guard shook his head, "why were you trading words with that fiend?"

Bayard smiled in spite of himself, "that was nothing! The creature invaded my quarters last night and we talked for some time upon various matters."

The servant gasped, "what is he after?"

Bayard shook his head, "I am unsure, but I rather pity the poor creature."

The guard said in reproving tones, "we are enemies, forever separated by a chasm that cannot be crossed. Whatever his intentions they cannot be good, even if they appear benign."

Bayard frowned, "are we capable of betraying sensitive information to our enemies? Last night I knew he was looking for something, but found no words to continue when I neared the place in the story that might be of even the least bit of interest to such a plotter. He seemed disappointed but not surprised. This morning he told me of a supposed plot to betray the Lady of the Wood and invade her realm. I doubt this tale to be of any merit but rather a distraction from all that is afoot in our own Realm. He is a servant of the Liar after all."

The uneasiness vanished from his companions as they pondered his words and felt the truth within their inmost beings. As long as they understood the creatures were undeniably evil and liars as often as not, such conversations could do little harm and as they were unable to speak of delicate matters to the servants of their enemy, their words could be of no benefit to their foes. But ever they must be wary of being distracted or led astray by lies or suspicions planted by creatures that were slaves of untruth, while they might exchange fair words together, they were at heart bitter enemies and this they must remember above all else.

Just then Garot came striding up, clad for a day in the saddle, he stared stonily at the menials who smiled amusedly at one another, bowed to the princes, and returned to their duties, leaving the brothers alone. Said the younger, "are you ready for today's ride?" His sneer said rather, "come little fool, are you still so blind as to not know what you are? I cannot wait to see your discomfiture before the entire party!"

Bayard said quietly, "I will accompany you brother, but this Lady, no matter how fair, cannot mean well towards any of us. She will use you for her own ends and then toss you aside like a ruined doll."

Garot hissed, "you only want her for yourself!"

Bayard eyed him stonily, "I am not so blind as you think me Garot, I know it was no dream and I know your part in it." He said more quietly and glanced at the ground for a moment before looking seriously at his brother, "neither am I capable of claiming either a crown or a lady's affections, for such matters belong to a world that is no longer my own." His voice hardened, "but that does not mean I can stand aside and watch this realm be swallowed up by Shadow. That woman will use you to lay claim to the Kingdom and then cast you aside when your use is at an end. Ware her seducing spells, especially in the shadow of her own Wood."

Garot's smile was chill as a winter morn, "how then will you have your revenge brother? You cannot very well accuse me of murder while yet you walk the castle."

Bayard shook his head, "nay, it is not my place to expose you for the traitor you are, but rather to urge you to change your ways before the entire Kingdom suffers because of your lust for power. What is it you promised these fiends in exchange for their aid?"

Garot's icy smile slipped and something nigh unto terror entered his eyes but he quickly buried the emotion and said with only a hint of a tremor in his voice, "as you have bartered your soul for this meager existence, so have I promised mine, but rather than becoming an ineffectual ghost, I shall become a creature truly powerful. I shall reign forever as the Shadow King and all mortal hearts will quail in fear at the merest hint of my name and I shall expand the borders of my dread empire to encompass the entire earth."

If the boy had been hoping to inspire dread and horror in his brother, he was deeply disappointed, for Bayard only nodded thoughtfully and said quite mildly, "a picturesque story, a perfect setting for an epic tale but you forget your master is not unopposed, and even if you are a King in title, you would still be but a slave to his will."

The younger sneered, "more a slave than you?"

Bayard smiled warmly, "we are all slaves to something Garot, I have found the only true freedom, slave though I be. We can choose whose chains to wear and those of my Master are light indeed whereas yours shall drag you down into eternal darkness and despair. I may be a slave yet also am I a son. You will be but a pawn to be used as necessary and then cast aside into utter darkness."

For a moment Bayard saw doubt flicker in his brother's eyes but then his anger flared forth and he scorned, "bold words for a ghost! What know you of matters beyond your ken? Your master could not see fit to deliver you from death, why should I trust him to likewise rescue me?"

Bayard said in wistful memory, "death is the lot of all mortals, why should I be spared when my Master Himself bore it upon our behalf when He need never have known either mortality or death? And who am I to say when I should perish or how? Will He not use this evil for His good, and the good of all the Kingdom? What is my life to that? Nay, it is an honor to die in His service whereas you shall perish for your own selfish goals and find no gain thereby."

Fury raged across his brother's face, but he swallowed his wrath and merely snarled, "we shall be late and it will not do to keep such a Lady waiting."

Bayard bowed and followed his brother towards the stables where they found their escort waiting impatiently in their saddles. The elder prince eyed the various servants and guards set to accompany the party and saw the look of delighted scorn that radiated from his brother's countenance. If he went along with this, his identity would be revealed to the entire company yet he could not allow his brother to ride alone into those grim Woods in the presence of this nefarious Lady. Said he at last, "I do not think we need so many attendants, brother. Let us dismiss all but a few of our most trusty retainers, after all, if things go ill an army would not avail us in the Wood."

Garot snarled silently but could not gainsay his brother, especially when the majority of the underlings looked quite eager to be dismissed back to their regular duties rather than spend the day gallivanting about that cursed Wood and risking their lives thereby. In the end only four underlings accompanied the young princes: two of Garot's shadowy companions and Bayard's fellow Messengers. Garot growled to his brother as they clattered out of the courtyard, "you might have won this time brother, but the day is still young. I am sorely disappointed not to have seen the reaction of your beloved minions when they realize what you truly are."

Bayard could only shake his head and then all attention was immediately focused on the Lady of the Wood and her companions as they entered the open country outside the city where the elfin folk awaited them, unwilling to mingle with the mortals within their confined castle walls. The Lady flashed them a condescending smile at such a measly escort but Bayard smiled boldly at her and she turned her attention to his brother instead, now her face a seductive masterwork. Garot was immediately caught in her spell and grew even worse as they entered the shadow of the Wood, so entranced was he that he did not notice the changes immediately wrought in his companions, but the elves accompanying the Lady murmured darkly amongst themselves while she barely contained her triumphant grin.

Bayard was surprised the horses allowed themselves to be ridden into the Wood, especially in the presence of the now exposed Wraiths, but the Lady whispered quietly to him, "the silly beasts are as enspelled as your fool brother and will remain so as long as you ride in my company." She smirked and did not bother to hide her scornful study of himself and his companions. The Messengers glowed faintly with an inner light, almost painful in the surrounding gloom of the Wood while the Wraiths were nearly lost to visible sight, fading into the perpetual twilight about them. She did not bother to comment, but smiled triumphantly and urged her horse forward, speaking quietly with the captain of her escort as she passed him by but then riding on in silence.

The ride was interminable but the majority of the party did not experience the passage of time as mortals did and Garot was completely beyond caring about such a minor matter. At last they clattered to a stop in the midst of a dreary old ruin, its stones perpetually moist and covered in various growths of mold and mildew, a shudder ran through the hearts of the three Messengers and their shadowy counterparts watched them with thinly veiled delight, for here it was that their mortal selves had been unmade. The guard gaped and whispered quietly to the servant, "I rode blindly into the Wood that night?"

One of the Wraiths hissed in answer, "do not be a simpleton, your horse would not have borne you thither. Rather the Wood has decided that this particular ruin is of interest at the moment and has brought us thus. The Lady can send us where she will by such a means, be silent fool and attend."

The Lady waited impatiently for their insipid chatter to cease and then said in grand but derogatory tones, "watch now as our plans come to fruition. That which has been promised shall now be fulfilled." She turned cunning eyes upon the faintly glowing figures, whose radiance shone out the brighter in this place of evil, and said in quiet triumph, "watch now fools as your master's pathetic plans come to naught."

The Messengers shifted uneasily in their saddles, Bayard reaching instinctively for his blade, but his hand dropped uselessly to his side even before he touched the hilt. It was not time for such a confrontation, for Garot had willingly come to this end and it was not within their power to gainsay him. Thus they stood in wretched witness to all that was about to commence, wondering what strange bargain the Lady had made with the Shadow. Said she as if in answer, "I will not yoke myself to any power greater than my own wishes and fancies, thus I will not serve either your meager Master or his vile Enemy, but I will align myself with others if it should avail me. This pathetic princeling and his shadowy associates will thus serve my whims and I theirs and we shall both gain thereby." She then sidled her horse alongside Bayard's and gently stroked his cheek, he flinched back at her icy touch as she whispered, "a pity I could not have taken you, your brother was hardly a challenge, but you have already sacrificed your feeble being upon the altar of a weak and distant lord. See now the futility of your service!"

She focused her eyes upon the dazed Garot, "come darling, let us alight and walk about in these pleasant environs for a few moments." The enthralled prince smiled wanly, her merest whim his greatest delight, and did as she asked. She took his arm and escorted him into the heart of the ruin, the others followed silently after, save her guards who remained in the outer court as she had commanded. She said in a simpering tone, "come Sire, you must be tired, let us rest here awhile." He nodded vacantly and sat upon the flat topped stone before them. "There dear," said she, for all the world like a doting mother, "is that not much better? Come, you must be tired, a little nap would be just the thing." He yawned expansively in agreement, swung his legs up, and lay peacefully upon the stone, as innocently as a wee child in its own bed.

The sight smote Bayard to the heart, even knowing it was his brother's choice did not make it any easier to watch, especially this mockery they made of him. His soul cried desperately out to the One who had wrought it, who had called him Beloved, who had traded His own life for that of a creature of earth and dust. In answer, came a sorrow even more grievous, like unto the breaking of the world, for it was the Sorrow of the greatest of all hearts that His own children would choose willingly to live apart from all that was Good and Right and True; that some chose ashes over beauty, death over life, lies over truth. But here was the very heart of Love: that the Beloved be allowed to choose his own path and reap the consequences there upon. His Master was not powerless to stop evil and sin, but rather had chosen to allow His beloved creatures to choose their own fate, whether they would be sons of the Light or slaves of the Dark. Bayard and his companions bowed their heads at the heartrending grief of their Master, knowing that they had had their own part in that sad tale, and grateful above all things for His ever patient mercy and grace.

The Lady broke the silent spell, "come shadow, let us complete this bargain."

The foremost Wraith stepped towards the stone bier and laid a hand of dark mist upon the boy's heart. He began to chant in a fell tongue and the gloom about them darkened to starless night, broken only by the increased luminescence of the Messengers. Though they knew not the language, the meaning was clear in each mind, "you have promised much son of earth and much has been accomplished on your behalf. Hold now to the bargain you have wrought!"

Garot gasped in agony and his flesh took on a dreadful ashen hue while the Wraith seemed to grow larger and more menacing. He withdrew his hand and bowed slightly to the Lady, "he is yours Madam." She smiled in cruel anticipation as the shadow retreated to his former place, giving his radiant companions a triumphant grin as he passed.

The Lady approached the stone where Garot lay as one dead and lay a hand upon his brow, saying, "awake!" His eyes fluttered open and he slowly sat up, though he stared blankly with no life in his eyes. The Messengers shuddered and the shadows smirked at their discomfiture.

Bayard boldly proclaimed, "whatever it is you have done to him, it will have rendered him incapable of claiming the throne!"

The Wraith snorted, "little you know, you pathetic ghost! Unlike you three phantasms, our precious Prince has not yet retired his mortality and thus is still an heir to the crown and might wed this great Lady if that should be his wish. Well?" He turned burning eyes upon the pallid Garot who nodded like one entranced. He smiled wickedly, "see, he has chosen and soon the Wood shall devour your wretched realm and all within."

Bayard frowned, "how can it be his conscious choice if you have rendered him insensate?"

The Elf Queen smiled viciously, "he could fight it if he chose, but he prefers the illusion to reality, the lie to truth. He wants the throne and power and me and does not care what it costs him to accomplish it." She turned then to the ashen faced zombie, "shall we return to your Palace my Lord?" He nodded dully and they all withdrew to the outer courtyard where the elfin escort awaited their Lady. Said she, "I shall return in a fortnight for the wedding my Prince, and then all of your dreams shall come true." She and her party turned their horses, the Wood shifted about them, and suddenly it was gone and only the dreadful ruins and a grim though mortal forest lay about them. The horses snorted uneasily, as if they had woken suddenly in a strange stall, but their riders again looked and felt like normal humans and the disquiet wood was gone, so soon enough they settled. Garot's own awakening was not near so peaceable.

His eyes again held life, but Bayard thought he preferred the blank insensibility to the terror and horror that now consumed Garot. He stared aghast at his shadowy companions, "what have you done to me?"

Said the foremost with contempt, "only that which you promised. Rejoice, Sire, for the Lady shall be yours very soon and the crown thereafter."

Garot studied his withered, pallid hands, felt in horror at his cold, slack cheeks. Said he in trembling voice, "what is this? What am I?"

The Wraith smiled coldly, "I have absorbed much of your substance Sire." He glanced at Bayard, smiled in satisfaction, and then continued, "not entirely as I did to your brother, but enough that you will be a hopeless cripple and weakling all the rest of your days unless our master sees fit to bless you with strength and vigor in return for your service to him."

Despaired the poor prince, "I promised my life in service to him, not my strength for your delight!"

"Poor, wretched princeling," mocked the Wraith, "will you never learn your desires mean nothing to our master? You must learn to obey and accept whatever meager portion he sees fit to give you. Now let us return to the castle." With a heavy sigh the boy turned his horse towards home, his shoulders slumped in dejection. The Wraith's scoffing laughter echoed ceaselessly in his ears. The three Messengers followed silently after, knowing they could do nothing for the moment but worsen Garot's misery and shame, but perhaps there was still hope that he might recoil in horror at his master's treachery or else he would slip without struggle or fight into a valley of despair and grim acceptance, from which he would never emerge. The Wraith nearly glowed in triumph as he led the procession homewards; Garot slumped dejectedly in his saddle and his brother was grimly silent in troubled thought.

They emerged from the woods as the sun dropped below the distant hills; the castle loomed black in the distance with here and there the faint glimmerings of torch or candle flickering like dim, scattered stars in the heavens. Bayard urged his horse towards his still silent and despairing brother, who did not even bother to look up at his approach, but when Bayard draped a cloak around his shoulders, at least he made the effort to lose himself in its folds that his changed form might not be noticed immediately by anyone upon his return. They rode silently into the keep and the Wraiths gathered up the numb prince in their wake and bore him back to his chambers while the abandoned Messengers exchanged an uneasy look, but Bayard's eyes held a knowing light and his jaw was clenched in grim determination; he knew what he must do, even though it would be a source of great pain to more than himself. The concern in his companions' eyes deepened as they realized what it was he intended and their pity nearly unmanned him, but suddenly he remembered Who it was he served and his courage rose within him for in the end, all would be well, no matter how dark the current night. He bowed his head in grave farewell to his friends and ventured forth to break his father's heart.

He found the man dozing in a great chair before a dying fire in the library, a dusty book open in his lap. Bayard studied the peaceful scene for some moments, unwilling for a time to disturb what might be his father's last, happy repose for many years, or perhaps for all time. He turned his gaze upon the book and shook his head in wonder, for the King had fallen asleep reading fairy tales and it seemed his chosen tale concerned the Lady of the Wood herself. A log on the fire finally yielded to the will of the flames and broke in half with a crash and flurry of sparks, startling the old man awake. He gasped, looked about in his distress, and sighed to have been discovered in such a position, "ah, my son! I suppose you think me a tired old fool, eh?"

Bayard smiled fondly at this dear old man, whom he realized he had loved more than life itself, said he, "I would never think that of you, Sir. I am sorry to startle you and to disturb your rest, but there is a matter I wish to speak upon."

The man motioned for his son to seat himself in the adjacent chair but the boy preferred to pace before the fire, occasionally stopping to gaze unseeing into its flickering heart. Said the King, "I have been reading up on this Lady of the Wood." Bayard turned to face him and listened intently, finding no scorn on his face, the King continued with a wry smile, "but it seems the only information to be had on such a person is found only in the fairy tales!"

In spite of himself, the boy grinned, "often the old tales hold more truth and wisdom than we give them credit, thinking them fit only for children when they are older and wiser than we."

The King returned his smile and said, "just so." His amusement faded as he said, "what I have read sends chills through my heart. This Lady seeks to make an alliance with my heir and I cannot in good conscience give either of my sons in marriage to such a creature." His eyes studied his son's face, seeking how the boy himself felt about said Lady.

Bayard met his father's gaze evenly and said, "have no fear that I have fallen under her spell father." The man relaxed back into his chair, but the boy could not leave his relief undisturbed, "Garot is fully in her power and she intends to wed him in a fortnight."

The King gaped in surprise, which was quickly replaced by a flash of fury, he snarled, "the witch! At least she shall not have the crown!"

Bayard shook his head and then looked up with sad eyes, "that is the matter I wished to discuss with you Sire."

The King shivered, sensing something dreadful behind his son's words, said he with trembling voice, "something is terribly amiss."

Bayard nodded, his eyes shining with unshed tears, "Sire, you must disinherit Garot."

The King stared, "it cannot be done for anything short of treason!"

Bayard nodded, "aye Sir, of that he is guilty no doubt. He will have the crown and wed the Lady before the month is out unless he is stopped and she will take the Kingdom from his cold, dead hands."

His father frowned, "but to gain the crown he must oust both you and I! He could not be so bold, nor can I disown him for unverified plots."

Bayard said quietly, "it is not a plot of which I speak, Sire. He has already accomplished half of his fell intentions. You alone remain between him and the crown."

His father's frown deepened, "do not be ridiculous boy! How is it you can speak such things while standing before me in the flesh? Are you plotting against me yourself even as you say he plots against the both of us?"

Bayard bowed his head, praying for the words that would not come, he raised his gaze to that of his father and let his true nature shine through. Said he quietly, as his father gaped like a landed fish in astonishment, "he has betrayed me to the Shadow sir, it is true that I stand before you but it is not in the flesh, Garot made sure of that and now only you remain between him and the crown."

The man's mouth shut with an audible snap and he was on his feet in a moment, but rather than fleeing in terror at this apparition in guise like his son, he came slowly forward, a slight frown on his face. The boy allowed his approach and stood quietly as the man studied him closely, reaching out a tentative hand to touch him. The King smiled slightly to feel something warm and solid beneath his hand as he clasped the boy's shoulder; he found no menace or otherworldliness about the lad, save the faint glow that seemed to illuminate his entire being and the strange mix of warmth, joy, courage, and hope that sparkled in his eyes and radiated from his being. The vision suddenly vanished, cloaked again under a semblance of mortality, and they stood studying one another for a long, silent moment. There was a knowing light in the King's eyes, not untinged by sadness but neither consumed by despair, while his smile became rueful. At last said he, "so it is lad, yet neither are you completely lost to me it seems."

The boy nodded, smiling slightly to know his father had not been horrified or decimated by his news, "for a time Sir, my duties keep me here, warding your Kingdom from the evil that consumed me."

The King shook his head and resumed his chair, the boy at last at ease sat across from him, said the King, his rueful smile deepening, "you've finally lost yourself in your mother's nonsense haven't you?"

The boy's smile was joy itself and the King envied him deeply, said Bayard, "nay Sire, it is not nonsense but the very truth and the whole point of life itself. Were we not just speaking of the wisdom to be found in old tales? At the last I found such wisdom though I had fought it or ignored it all my mortal days. And it is this 'nonsense' alone that can spare your Kingdom from ruin and your soul from Death."

The old man sighed heavily, "very well, I will do as you ask. With you out of the succession and your brother as well, that leaves only your sister to claim the crown. It has been long indeed since this nation willingly put a Queen on the throne."

Bayard nodded, "and so it must be Sire unless you wish the Lady of the Wood to expand her borders and let the whole nation vanish into the Wood, leaving our people to her fickle mercies."

The King glanced uneasily at his discarded book and shivered, "and that I could never do." He smiled wanly, "I think I had best have a word with your mother about this so-called nonsense of hers, I begin to wonder if she might not have the right of it after all." He smiled sadly at his son, "I am glad to have the loan of you for a time, but I can also see that whatever it is you do, at last you have come into your own. You are the man I had always hoped you would become."

The boy flashed him a brilliant grin but a tear trickled unbidden down one cheek, "thank you Sire, but it is none of my doing but rather the grace of my Lord." He smiled impishly, "it is also far easier to be what one ought when the selfish blinders of mortality are stripped away." He bowed deeply and said in parting, "I hope to see you again Sire, upon that eternal morning which shall never be dimmed by tears or darkness." Suddenly he vanished, leaving his father alone with his thoughts both joyous and sorrowful. But late that night he roused his Council of Lords from their beds and brought these grim tidings before them and before the dawning, the Princess was declared next in line for the throne.

Bayard reappeared suddenly somewhere in the Wood, where exactly did not matter for there any place was as good as another. The Reason for his visit would soon enough present itself and all he need do was wait. In a swirl of fabulous skirts and unladylike language, the Lady of the Wood herself stepped into the gloom where the lad awaited her coming. "How dare you summon me in my own realm!" snarled she.

The boy shook his head, "it is none of my doing, Lady, for I am merely the messenger. My Lord may summon whom He will and even you dare not oppose Him!"

Her fury was buried under sudden terror and she reined in her wrath enough to say, "what is your message then? The sooner you have it out the sooner I may be rid of your irksome presence."

The boy bowed formally and said, "you still intend to wed my brother? Come what may?"

She frowned and said in ill-contained fury, "what have you done?"

The boy could not hide his smile, "he is no longer in line for the crown. I have told my father of his treachery and he has no choice but to remove him from the succession."

She stared at him aghast, "you have betrayed your own pitiful condition to your mortal kin! Now you shall have no place among them. Was the price worth it to ruin my schemes? Pathetic creature! You have lost everything and merely inconvenienced me! I shall have my chance another day, what is a thousand years to me and mine? But you have left yourself friendless and homeless in all the expanse of the mortal world! Fool! I will find your pain so amusing that it will well compensate for the minor hindrance you have caused me!" She shrieked with hysterical laughter.

Bayard left her there, drunk with mirth, for she would not understand that he had no discomfiture for her to find funny. She was bound to this strange world with all its imperfections and could not imagine life apart from it whereas he had already passed beyond this weary sphere and though he lingered there still, he was a resident of a brighter and bigger world beyond all fear, doubt, sorrow, and death. Though a sojourner in this world of dust and shadows, he had glimpsed the far shore of his true home and therein his heart was well content. He vanished into the gloom upon the next errand his Master set him.

He reappeared in his brother's sitting room, the curtains were drawn and no fire burned upon the hearth or disturbed the rest of the cold candles. Two Wraiths lurked like the shadows they were in the disused corners of the room while their leader could be heard berating Garot in his bedchamber, the latter half furious, half despondent with grief. The two underlings hissed in fury when Bayard appeared uninvited in their midst; the uproar drew their leader from the bedchamber, followed by the sobs of the former prince. Sneered the creature at Bayard, "and just what are you doing here? Do you not know it is rude to enter the Prince's chambers uninvited?"

Bayard said coldly, "I could ask you the same. I will speak with my brother."

"We will attend you," said the other, highly amused.

Bayard shrugged, "you will find out soon enough and as it means your plans for this Kingdom are utterly ruined, I suppose this business pertains to you as well as to Garot."

Garot snarled from the bedchamber, "send him away! I will not see him!"

Bayard entered the bedchamber despite his brother's distress; he had a message to deliver and would not be gainsaid by a temper tantrum. He looked with pity upon the wasted form in the bed and gazed into his brother's smoldering eyes, knowing Garot somehow blamed him for what had happened. Said he quietly, "I bear grim tidings brother." His brother snarled wordlessly but he pressed on, "father has removed us both from the line of succession, neither of us shall ever be heir to the crown."

"What!" yelped the Wraiths and Garot in chorus.

Bayard smiled grimly and said, "I told him of what has happened and he has no choice. Your Lady has also called off the wedding since you are no longer heir to the throne."

Garot collapsed into a whimpering heap while the Wraiths fell upon Bayard, weapons suddenly in hand. Bayard felt a sword in his hands and defended himself without thought, vanquishing the two lesser fiends who melted away like banished shadows and held the greater at bay for a moment before feeling the Wraith's blade through his heart. The boy vanished in a blinding flash, leaving only the senior Wraith and the sobbing Garot in the room. Snarled the former, "this sniveling will accomplish nothing. Will you submit yourself fully to my master or shall I dispose of you permanently, as I did your brother?"

Terror stilled the boy's weeping and he turned horrified eyes upon the Wraith that loomed over him. "I will never become a mere shade like you! No matter your threats," snarled he.

The Wraith's smile was hideous to behold as he loomed over the boy and took hold of his already wasted form. The boy cried in dismay but his wailing soon faded like a dying wind even as he himself faded from living memory. The Wraith smiled maliciously and vanished from the Kingdom entirely. The two remaining Messengers felt as if a shadow had lifted from the Kingdom and they knew the plots were at an end and so too was their duty in that land. A guard standing watch beside a certain gate at that hour gasped in astonishment to see his fellow vanish in a flash of light. The Steward, berating a certain servant for his recent inattention to his duties of late was equally astounded when the impudent creature had the nerve to disappear likewise in the midst of his tirade. The sleepers in that kingdom slept a little more soundly that night, and for many a night thereafter, though none could quite say why.

It was an ancient wood, draped in shadow and mist, but at least it was a wood in the mortal world. There was no light here in the dark of night and only an eerie twilight permeated at the height of day, but that did not stop the mist from glowing with its own radiance. A unicorn, also alight with its own glow, touched its horn to the luminescence at its feet and a boy found himself kneeling before it, his being a tremble with sheer joy in the creature's presence. He leapt eagerly to his feet and walked silently at its shoulder as words unspoken passed between them. The creature, Who was no resident of the world, but its Maker, gave the boy a glorious smile and then faded from his perception. Bayard stood for a moment, savoring the lingering awe of his Master's presence, and then faded himself into the whelming darkness.

The next morning found an eager and young hunting party disturbing the ancient silence of that grim old wood with the immortal gaiety of youth. There was little of game to be found in the hushed gloom of that particular part of the forest, but it offered wide avenues for adventurous and somewhat reckless young men to test their equestrian skills. So it was that these particular young men did not take any game that day, but in eagerly challenging one another to do this or that foolish bit of riding, quickly did the day pass in much excitement and mirth. In the outer world, the sun was still setting but in that gloomy wood, full night came suddenly. The once rash adventurers found themselves caught in pitch darkness, ill prepared for a night abroad in such a wood, but thankfully the weather was fine and their saddlebags were not completely devoid of provision. It was inconvenient and uncomfortable, but it was in itself another adventure.

But the shadows began to whisper and hint at terrible things in the darkness, fiends set to steal their very souls. The wretched lads huddled around their meager fire and stared into the depthless night with hearts quailing in terror and fear. They must submit to the darkness, it was the only way to save their lives, nay to spare their souls! The air trembled with imminent doom and the shadows prophesied horror to come, unless they sought the solace offered, but their hearts quivered to even think upon this terrible mercy, if mercy it was. Then a boy stepped out of the shadows and the horror and dread vanished, only the common dark of night remained with the ancient trees glowering overhead at the unaccustomed light of the merrily dancing fire, which itself seemed the brighter for the vanished terror. They blinked at this apparition and wondered if it had all been a dream; the boy was quite real, but the terrors of the night were only their overwrought sensibilities succumbing to the fancies inspired by the endless night about them, surely. He seemed a lad like unto themselves, but what he was doing wandering lost in the dark and pathless wood was anyone's guess, at least he was nobly bred and clad in garments that would not shame him at court.

Eager to speak of anything but the uneasy wood, gladly did they welcome him amongst them and great was their joy to learn he was as merry a companion as any of the party. Morning came, and only a few snarling shadows dared come near the sleeping forms gathered round the dying fire that night, but they would not approach those within its light with that wretched Messenger in their midst. He grinned insolently at them, but paid them no more heed. The pallid light of day soon roused the uneasy sleepers and they invited their erstwhile companion to accompany them back to their more usual habitation, which he gladly accepted. He had no horse, but one of the lads eagerly accepted him into the saddle behind him and they were soon off. It took the entire day to find their way out of that seething forest, but as the sun set they escaped its clutches and soon came riding into view of the great castle that loomed black upon the horizon.

Bayard discovered he was now in one of the Kingdoms directly adjacent to his former home and the one with which his father had the most cordial relations. His claims to be a wayward nobleman of his former homeland, verified by his dress and accent, along with the various tales he had recounted in their brief acquaintance, made him an intriguing and welcome companion. Already, the young Prince Zair was pressing him for details regarding the Princess of the neighboring realm. Bayard would have grinned outright, but he felt the shadows following and knew they intended no good towards this Kingdom or his own. The creatures could not yet take physical form, beyond an inky stain with flaming eyes, but they were eager to change that and eyed the cadre of young lordlings hungrily. Bayard wondered if there was a traitor in their midst, like unto his own brother; he shivered at the thought. With full night upon them, they arrived safely at the castle gates.

Many were the relieved hearts that saw the lads come safely home and great was their amusement when it was all explained as a minor navigational error and the unforeseen early darkness that encroached upon such a place as accounting for their truancy. Never did they tell others nor discuss among themselves of the whispering dark. The entire court was quite intrigued with the wandering youth that rode in among them, especially those with daughters of a marriageable age, and doubly so when he denied he had any interest at all in marriage upon this particular visit. The young ladies of the court eyed him eagerly and gossiped amongst themselves as to the extent of his wealth, which made many of the young lordlings look upon him with a jealous or scornful eye. Bayard felt their disdain like a dagger in his back, but the Prince and only child of the King, was intent on wedding the Princess of the neighboring Kingdom and saw the stranger as no threat to his own interests, but rather an ally in learning more of his esteemed lady.

They went in to a late supper and Zair insisted the boy attend him, a privilege which only increased the disdain his detractors already felt for him, but the Prince wished to learn all he could of the foreign princess and cared little for the effect it might have upon anyone's reputation. In the corners, the shadows whispered and added their antipathy to that already surrounding the impudent foreigner in certain hearts. Said Zair as the meal progressed, "you tell me the Princess is heir to the throne? Had she not two brothers in line before her? What unfortunate luck befell the royal family that the third child is now to inherit the crown?"

Bayard said gravely, "aye Sire, it was grief indeed with one brother murdering the other and finding his own disgrace and a bitter end thereby, though few enough know the full tale or the final end of the treacherous prince."

The Prince shuddered, "does this fiendish streak then affect the lady as well?"

Bayard smiled warmly, "nay Sire, she is the gentlest and truest heart I have ever had the privilege to know."

Said the Prince skeptically, "is she then dear to you?"

Bayard smiled in understanding, "fear not Sire, she is dear to me as a sister, not a sweetheart."

Seeing the frankness in his companion, the Prince relaxed and said, "forgive my suspicions, but there is so much antipathy and distrust at court these days that I am wary of everyone, believing them capable of some plot or another against me."

Bayard gaped, "what inspires such misgivings among you?"

The Prince shook his head, "I cannot rightly say of a certain, but things have not been the same since the new ambassador arrived from your own land but a fortnight ago."

Bayard stared, "to my knowledge, the King has sent no ambassador to your father. What happened to the man who formerly filled that post?"

The Prince frowned thoughtfully, "this is grim news indeed, the last fellow left shortly after the new man arrived, never taking official leave of my father but rather fleeing quite hastily in the dead of night. The new ambassador said it was because he was found out in some embarrassing circumstance and fled in shame, but I think fear would be a better explanation."

Bayard nodded, "I think you have the right of it. Could I meet this infamous ambassador at some point this night?"

The Prince shivered, "I can arrange it, but I loath even the thought of the man, much less to meet him in person."

Bayard said grimly, "leave that to me Highness, I do not fear this scoundrel."

The Prince gaped, "then you are either a fool or a far bolder man than I. He gives our greatest Knights a cold shiver should their paths cross. But come, the night grows old, if we are to be about this business tonight, let us make haste."

They withdrew from the table and the Prince led him to the wing of the castle where foreign dignitaries were quartered. The fellow did not deign to appear at public meals, choosing rather to have his repast served in his own chambers and he would not bother himself to attend a meal in celebration of the return of the Prince and his fellows after their foolish misadventure. He was quite disgusted to have his privacy invaded by said Prince, especially at such an hour, but he dared not voice his disdain, at least not yet. He was quite aghast to hear the reason for the Prince's unseemly visit and gaped outright upon recognizing Bayard.

Bayard bowed stiffly to the imposter and said to the Prince, "I have seen enough Majesty, let us to your father at once."

Hissed the Wraith, lately the greatest of Garot's entourage, "and whose word shall he take boy? A common vagrant or an official diplomat?"

Bayard laughed openly, "you are no more an ambassador than I am a King! Get you gone sir, before things go ill for you."

The creature seethed, "do you threaten me, boy?"

Bayard grinned coldly, "nay sir, I promise to do as I must. Twice now have you bested me, let us hope it shall not be so again."

Snarled the other, "come in then and let us settle this as gentlemen."

The Prince blinked, "you would accept a challenge from this man and attempt the duel in private?"

Bayard shook his head, "it may be the easiest way to settle the matter Sire, fear not for me, but inform your father that this man is a villain who was involved in the grief that bereft the neighboring King of both his sons."

The creature snarled in an uncouth tongue but held wide the door; Bayard gave his companion a grim nod as he vanished within, the door slamming behind him. The Prince shuddered and ran to carry the tale to his father. Bayard looked about at the overcrowded sitting room, where far too much furniture tried to occupy too little space. It would be an awkward place to fight a duel, had the sparring partners not been oblivious to more material concerns. The boy grew suddenly misty and his being pulsed with an eager light while the Wraith's features darkened until they became nearly imperceptible. The silken sofas and ancient chairs posed no impediment to the pair as they whirled about, swords clashing, for they could walk right through the offending furniture if necessary, or jump upon it if preferred. A pounding upon the door drew both combatants up sharply. They exchanged a grim nod, sheathed their blades, and resumed their mortal guises even as the guards forced wide the door.

The wraith smiled broadly at his young nemesis, "not bad lad, not bad at all. You will become a fearsome adversary indeed, in a thousand years, more or less." He laughed harshly and allowed the guards to drag him unceremoniously from the room and was delighted to see the impudent Messenger receiving the same treatment. They were cast into the dungeon, in separate cells of course, and warned that such behavior would not be tolerated by the King, no matter their barbaric customs at home, and that His Highness would hear their case whenever it was convenient to himself. Until then they could just rot in the dungeon and think upon their incivility. Once they were alone, the wraith hissed, "shall we resume then or await our audience with the King like good little prisoners?"

Bayard shook his head, "I assume if vanquished you would simply return, as would I. Let us avoid an indecorous show that might arouse questions neither of us would wish to answer and await our trial as the dutiful children we are." He grinned vastly at his own quip and the wraith shook his head, pretending to snarl but the corners of his mouth were twitching suspiciously.

Said he at last, "very good, such a display would accomplish nothing in the end. We must leave it to the King's discretion." He laughed heartily, "I wonder what the silly creatures would think if they knew these walls and chains could never hold us unless we wished them to? We remain imprisoned only to maintain appearances and for no other reason."

Bayard sighed and sat against the far wall, wondering how long the aggrieved King would leave them to molder in the dungeon and what the Prince thought of the matter. The wraith tried several times to bait the boy or encourage him in some lively discussion, but Bayard ignored him and focused on his own thoughts, plans, and the words his Master had spoken of what was to come. Some hours later, a relatively bright light invaded the utter dark of the cells, though neither of the prisoners had need of such a convenience. Bayard blinked in astonishment to recognize the young lord with whom he had ridden back to the castle. The lad stared at him, frowning grimly and studying him as he might a dangerous animal. Bayard felt the whispers of various Shades at the boy's back and wondered what vile lies they were using to poison the young lord's heart.

The wraith stirred, causing the boy to jump and nearly drop his lantern; he had forgotten the other man was also imprisoned with this perplexing stranger. He spoke at last, "who or what are you?"

Bayard frowned in perplexity, "what kind of a question is that?"

Kipril said harshly, "I know there is something dreadfully wrong about you. You will not succeed in the evil you intend."

Bayard blinked in astonishment, "evil?"

The boy laughed hollowly, "your vile intentions are not unknown to me. Who are you? Mortal men do not just wander at random through that cursed wood in the middle of the night! I saw a branch slash your cheek as we rode yet you did not bleed nor do you bear a cut. And the tales you have told to justify attacking this man in his own quarters! There is a dark and evil aura all about you! You will never have her!"

Bayard stared, was that what the shades were whispering? That he was of their ilk? He would have laughed would it not have insulted the boy's dignity beyond all repair. There was just enough truth in his assertions to make him suspicious, and when nudged with lies from his shadowy escort, he would likely believe the worst of the imprisoned lad. Her? No doubt he felt his lady also imperiled and endangered love would only add to his fury. Lovely! Said he calmly, "you have nothing to fear from me."

The boy scoffed, "a likely story! I will do whatever I must to spare my lady from your plots."

Said the wraith, "you cannot defeat this creature as you are, you must become something greater than a mortal man."

The boy shuddered, "why should I trust you any more than he?"

Suddenly the wraith was glowing like an earthbound star and he said in a beautiful and reassuring voice, "for I am the sworn enemy of this creature and his ilk. Only the Light can defeat the Dark. Will you join the fight?"

Kipril was mesmerized by the musical voice and the sheer beauty of the vision before him, Bayard could see it for the deception it was, but the boy was entranced, murmured he, "what must I do? I must protect my beloved."

"Certainly," said the dulcet voice, "simply give yourself into the keeping of my companions and you shall become one of us."

The boy nodded vacantly, as if in a trance, and the shades immediately set upon him. He woke suddenly, as if doused with icy water, wailed he, "what? No! It is a lie! Forgive me my Lord, I did not see..." He faded away as the shadows absorbed him utterly.

The wraith snarled, "a pity that, he would have made a splendid shade, instead he saw through my deception at the last." He turned furious eyes on Bayard, "and just like you, he threw himself on the mercy of your thrice cursed Master ere the end! You creatures are so utterly pathetic. My shades have been whispering in his ear for weeks, preparing him for just such a moment. Your arrival was the perfect circumstance to spring the trap, but no, he has to remember his fickle faith at the last moment. He had turned his back on it quite nicely in the last few weeks and I was certain he would be mine. Ah well, there are plenty of others."

Bayard shuddered in horror at what he had just witnessed and at the wraith's casual dismissal of the complete destruction of a mortal life, as if it were of no more account than an irritating insect. But he was also reminded that there was far more to life than what could be seen and felt by mortal men, and that even at the last, like himself, the boy had been spared the hopelessness of utter night. He collapsed gratefully against the wall and pondered the wondrous grace offered freely to such fickle and selfish creatures, if only they would accept it.

Kipril woke with a shudder, what a horrid dream! But he sighed in relief, only a dream, but certainly no fit death for a great lord's son. He shuddered again and summoned his servant that he might ready himself for the day, hoping to meet his lady at breakfast. He needed a good dose of reality to wash away the horrors of his nocturnal visions, and the inane, birdlike chatter of his betrothed was just the sort of mind-numbing therapy he needed to free himself of this ridiculous sense of revulsion over something so juvenile as a nightmare. He was quickly attired for the morning repast and made his way with far more alacrity than usual down to the dining hall in search of distraction and relief. He shuddered again even as he thought about it. There had been more to the dream, far more, but for now all that lingered in his mind was that horrid end, with him yowling like a forsaken cat and then just ceasing to be! He hastened his already quick steps; no, just a nightmare and nothing more.

Julia met him with a smile and a blushing curtsy as he came in the door; he returned the courtesy and gladly gave himself over to her endless prattle about all that had happened since the evening meal. He was helping himself to some toast when her words finally registered, he dropped the bread in astonishment, cried he in dismay, "what did you say?"

She tittered nervously and said, "why darling, that stranger who came in with your party last evening tried to murder one of the King's ambassadors in his own chamber! It was quite dreadful, both have been imprisoned until the King can sort the matter out." She fanned herself in agitation and Kipril tried to regain his composure. He had thought it all a dream, but if the pair had truly been arrested...how much more of it was true? He rose shakily, intent on interviewing the prisoners once more. His lady said tremulously, "are you well darling?"

Kipril shook his head and said quietly, "I do not know my dear, but there is a matter I must see to immediately, pray excuse me." He bolted from the room as if it contained the pox.

Julia smiled brittlely and turned to the lady on her far side; they began whispering wildly even before Kipril was out the door. If her fiancé was going to start acting strangely three weeks before their wedding, at least she could find solace in whatever gossip she could glean or spread about the matter. Perhaps this was not such a worrying turn of events after all, no matter how it ended. She was assured of being quite vital and popular in certain quarters, for a month or more if things were as she feared, and secretly hoped they might truly be. More ladies gathered about the pair and soon the whole castle was buzzing in anticipation.

Meanwhile, Kipril hied himself down to the dungeons once more, another shudder wracking his being as he approached the scene of what he still desperately hoped was a nightmare. The guards were reluctant to let him by, but as his father was a powerful man, they had little choice. He descended into the cellblock, empty save for the two infamous duelists, and the first thing his eyes fell upon was the shattered lantern against the wall where he had been standing. It could be a coincidence. The dark chuckles of the ambassador laid all doubt irrevocably aside, said he in great amusement, "you don't believe it, do you?!" He did not wait for a reply but drew to the far corner of his cell and began laughing in earnest.

Bayard stood in the middle of his cell, watching the perplexed lad with a mixture of interest, pity, and amusement, remembering his own confusion in such a circumstance. Their eyes met and they studied one another silently for a long moment, at last the boy said quietly, "you are not evil."

Bayard grinned whole-heartedly, "at least you understood before the end." He grimaced, "otherwise it would have ended quite differently."

Kipril stared in horror, "it is all true then? What do you mean differently? I do not understand what has happened." He swallowed hard, "I should not even be here, if it really happened."

Bayard said quietly, "had you not resisted them, you would have become one of them."

The boy squeaked in horror, "but to die like that!"

Bayard shook his head, "at least you will not have all eternity to live thus."

The boy nodded dully, "you do have a point." He studied Bayard for a moment and frowned, "this is not the first time you have witnessed something like this?"

Bayard smiled wryly, "it was my own end as well, perpetrated by none other than our famed ambassador and his cronies."

Kipril smiled weakly, "you intended to murder him in his own chambers, indeed! To think such a creature might have had the King's ear!" Suddenly the rest of his 'dream' recurred to him and his smile might have shamed the sun for radiance.

Bayard laughed for very joy, "it seems you remember more than the nightmarish beginning."

Kipril nodded eagerly and laughed for sheer wonder, "indeed I do! My end was wretched, pitiful even, but that was not The End, nay it was only the beginning." He stared stonily at the wraith, "to think what a fool I was to listen to the wild prattling of your shadowy minions! I was fortunate it only cost me my life, it might have been my very soul!" He said in grim anticipation, "but now I have the chance to end your vile influence over other susceptible souls." He cocked his head at Bayard, "did you truly know the Princess of whom our Prince seems so fond?"

Bayard smiled sadly, "she is my sister, or rather was, I suppose I should say."

Kipril blanched, "the tale of the aggrieved King?"

Bayard nodded, "my brother made a bargain with our Master's greatest enemy and set these Fiends upon me; I ended just as you did." He smiled ruefully, "I even awoke the next morning completely oblivious. At least it has not taken you a full day to figure it out. I revealed my brother's treachery to my father and he was removed from the line of succession in favor of my sister; he was utterly consumed by evil shortly thereafter."

Kipril blinked in surprise to find himself in Bayard's cell, apparently approaching unawares as he listened to the tale. Bayard laughed, "there is much you will have to learn about our occupation, but the first thing to remember is that we are no longer bound by mortal constraints."

Kipril smiled in spite of himself, "you are telling me you could just walk out the front door and no one could stop you?"

Bayard barked a laugh, "quite, but for the moment we are both trying to maintain appearances so have refrained from any questionable behavior."

Kipril joined in his mirth at the absurdity of the situation and then turned curious eyes on the wraith, "that creature said a mortal man could not destroy you? But I begin to think that we cannot be truly destroyed or even killed."

Bayard nodded, "our shadowy counterparts can banish us for a time with a mortal blow, as we can them, but having tasted once of death, we can no longer truly die, for that is appointed only once for mortal men."

Kipril frowned, "so you challenged this fiend to a duel in hopes of ridding the Kingdom of his influence for a few moments and now wait politely in the dungeon for the King's convenience?"

Bayard smiled ruefully, "it was not the most brilliant plan I have ever had, and actually it was he that challenged me. Twice has he bested me in such a contest and I thought to return the favor, little thinking of what my actions might precipitate."

The wraith barked a laugh, "insipid little creature! Someday you will learn to think before you act, until then my job will be the easier."

There came no reply as the outer door was thrown open and a troop of soldiers crowded into the antechamber. They blinked in surprise but maintained their stony calm when they saw Kipril inside the cell with one of the prisoners. Barked their captain, "you are to appear before the King this very hour, give us no trouble or else." The doors were opened and the prisoners securely bound and placed in the midst of the guards before being marched into His Royal Majesty's presence; Kipril, for his apparent collusion with the condemned found himself receiving similar treatment and dark looks from the guardsmen. The entire court had gathered in the King's grand audience chamber to hear the outcome of this strange case, many were the gasps and murmurs to see the son of one the Kingdom's greatest lords marched in with the condemned. Julia's heart gave a strange, excited flutter; there might be no wedding but here was fodder for gossip to last her many a year!

The King sat on his throne and leisurely awaited the prisoners, the Prince stood at his shoulder looking annoyed, and Kipril's father made his way to the fore when he glimpsed his son amidst the party; his countenance was far from pleasant and for a moment, Kipril was quite thankful a man could die but once. They were herded towards the King, then driven to their knees, and forced to look up as penitents into his scowling face. Groused he, "what is this nonsense about and why must it disrupt my entire Kingdom? We do not approve of dueling in this country, especially in private, no matter what fads you foreigners seems to think appropriate!" There were several murmurs of, "yes Highness," from the prisoners and he continued, "and what is Lord Grelve's son doing in your midst?"

The captain said in astonishment, "I cannot say exactly Highness, he demanded an audience with the prisoners, we dared not refuse him, and when we came down to fetch them for the audience, he was in the same cell as the boy there; without a key and the door still locked!"

Grelve barked at his son, "what is going on? Why have you anything to do with these reprobates in the first place?"

Kipril looked at the floor and scuffed at the marble with his booted toe, "I thought one of them was a threat to my betrothed and I was determined to see that his scheming came to naught. I was quite mistaken, sir, and have certainly paid for my folly."

The King frowned, "but how did you get into the prisoner's cell?"

The boy sheepishly shrugged, "that even I do not know, Sire."

The King shook his head grimly, "it is all quite uncanny! What am I to do with the lot of you? I will not have such unruly foreigners in my midst, I think I shall banish the lot of you and should you return without my leave, it will be under pain of death." He glowered at Kipril, "for your folly, you can suffer the same fate. Captain, escort them to the border!"

The captain bowed, said "yes Majesty," and hurried his prisoners from the King's presence; Prince Zair and Lord Grelve followed gravely after. The guards escorted the trio to the courtyard where they intended to wait until their horses were ready, but the Prince and Lord Grelve waylaid them. The captain tried to argue, but he could not do so for very long without risking both his position and his head, thus he relented and allowed each to have their turn at the prisoners.

Grelve immediately tore into his son, "you are a disgrace! I never want to see you again! Go, and never return. I hereby disinherit you and your wedding is certainly canceled!" He gave the astonished gathering one last scowl and vanished back into the keep.

The Prince gathered his composure and said to Bayard and the disinherited lordling, "I am sorry my father was so harsh and hasty with his judgments, but he is as jumpy as the rest of us of late and sees traitors under every rock. I will be leaving myself on a visit of state to the neighboring realm," his smile warmed significantly, "and in hopes of courting a certain lady, I would be much obliged with your company." The captain made to protest and Zair snapped, "you will send an escort, of course captain, and see them to the borders but they will ride as noble guests, not as prisoners. That other fellow you may do with as you please." They turned to look at the wraith but he was gone. They all stared in amazement, the Messengers alone knowing how the fiend escaped without anyone noticing.

Bayard was the first to speak, "we will gladly accompany you sire, and as for the vanished fiend, he is a worker of foul magics and you will never catch him unless he wants to be found. Do not waste time or manpower in vain pursuit." He turned his somber gaze upon the captain, who nodded gravely. Word of this would never get back to the King: either of the Prince's bizarre escort or the vanished villain. They were soon in their saddles and upon their way.

The captain sent six of his best men with the young Prince, but the boy refused any other escort save his two uncanny companions, but his father had agreed that if this journey must be made, as the boy insisted it must, that the least number of companions possible should be sent and the departure made so quietly that the Prince would not be missed for perhaps a full day, thus to reduce the likelihood of treachery, the possibility of which lowered over the Kingdom like a grim fog of late. Perhaps with the wraith's disappearance, the feeling too would dissipate. The King however, would have been aghast to know how and with whom the Prince had set off, but the lad subscribed to that ancient school of thought that decried, "it is better to ask forgiveness than permission," or the even older school, known innately to little boys everywhere, "you don't need forgiveness or permission if your parents never know."

Bayard was reluctant to leave the Kingdom unwarded so soon after a Shadow infestation, but he also felt that his skills would be of far more use to the young Prince on the journey before them, especially with that wraith at large. So it was, they rode out into the rising day, all but the Prince uneasy about his Majesty's safety, but that was their concern and not his; he was a young man, and a rich one at that, and the whole world lay before him. He was determined to enjoy it. The guardsmen trusted neither the boy's companions nor anyone they might meet or who might be lurking upon the path they would take. The Messengers were wary of foes the guardsmen could not even begin to imagine even in their darkest dreams, and for this the pair was thankful, no mortal man should know such horrors and live indefinitely helpless in their shadow, though the Kingdom had suffered as much in recent weeks, they knew little enough of the source of their unease.

The day passed quietly enough and their road wound through that ancient wood where this particular adventure had begun. Zair said as he urged his horse among the hoary trees, "it can be a hateful place, especially at night, but it is still quite a natural forest and will cut three days from our ride by going through rather than around." The others nodded their grim acceptance, having no real choice but forced to follow wherever their lord led. Night fell suddenly, as it always did in that place and the group settled down to make camp; the lieutenant in charge of the guards set a double watch, uneasy as he was in the shadow of those ill-feeling trees amid this unnatural night. The three young nobles sat apart from their escort and chatted quietly amongst themselves, the soldiers giving all but their Prince an uneasy look whenever they felt themselves unobserved. The Messengers felt their unease and wondered what use their enemies might make of it.

As the lads settled into their blankets, Bayard whispered quietly to Kipril, "I will pay my father a short visit, ward the camp while I am gone."

The disinherited lord gaped, "what am I to do if the Shadows come?"

Bayard smiled eagerly, "defend the Prince! You are no helpless child now; you are an even match for their vile powers."

The boy's grin nearly split his face asunder, "you are correct, I am still so new to this that I quite forgot myself. I will ward him well. How long will you be gone?"

Bayard replied with a catlike smile, "probably only a few minutes. Time means as little to us now as death. Farewell." He rose from his place, muttered something about taking a walk to anyone who might be listening, and was swallowed by the tree shadows, as if he had never been. The lieutenant eyed him suspiciously and motioned for one of the guards to follow the fellow. Who willingly wandered alone in such a place at such an hour? Kipril watched him go with a shake of his head and returned to watching the night; the Prince slept on unawares.

Feeling himself utterly alone, Bayard immediately melted into the mist that was creeping out of the low places and wandering blindly about the feet of the trees. The following guardsman tracked the boy to that place, but could see and hear nothing, wondering what had come of his quarry. He settled down to wait, knowing he could easily lose himself in the wood if he stumbled about blindly in the dark and that his quarry could not have gone far. The boy in fact was physically in the next realm over, even now informing his father of the upcoming visit of Prince Zair and its implications, especially that a particular shadowy fiend had an unhealthy interest in the venture. The man was delighted to see his son again and looked forward to their reunion, though Bayard asked that he not inform the imminent Prince that he had once been a prince of the realm himself. The King agreed but mentioned he might want to change his appearance, if he could do such a thing, if he wished to avoid awkward questions from his former kin and acquaintances. The boy smiled sheepishly, agreed heartily, and after bidding his father farewell, vanished back to the stygian wood the moment after he had left. The soldier was on his feet in a moment, thinking the moon had finally breached those wretched trees and in its pale light, he made his move.

It was in fact Bayard himself that was the source of the light, but he felt the imminent approach of the man and swathed himself in mortal guise once more. The man could no longer see but he knew whither his quarry lay and easily tackled the far smaller lad, hissing, "what are you up to, fiend?"

Bayard blinked in surprise, but said quite calmly, "just out for a stroll."

The guard shook his head, "only villains or mad men are abroad at night in this forsaken wood!"

"Quite right," came a new voice, this one full of malice and mirth, "someone get me a light." The light appeared, revealing as disreputable a gathering of men as Bayard had ever laid eyes on, though they were not to see him, at least not yet, for he had vanished from mortal perception the moment the strange voice had spoken. The speaker smiled villainously and drew his sword; the unfortunate guard's eyes were wide with shock and horror, not only for fear of his life and the surprise of the bandits, but he had had a firm hold on the boy and the next moment he had melted away like so much mist, but now all he could think about was the pain and whether he was capable of drawing one more breath.

Bayard could do nothing for the captured guard, but he could alert the others that attack was imminent; quick as thought he vanished back to the encampment, appearing again in physical form in the shadows just outside it, and then hastening back into the camp. He found a sword at his throat with the grim looking lieutenant at the other end. A strangled cry sounded in the darkness beyond and the soldier paled in terror, gasped he, "where is my armsman?"

Bayard shook his head gravely, "bandits, eight of them! There was naught I could do and they will fall upon the camp shortly, I must speak with the Prince."

The lieutenant growled, "you will go nowhere near his Highness, villain."

An authoritative throat being cleared sounded nearby and both men looked towards the official sounding cue, said the Prince, "let the boy be lieutenant, we have more important matters to discuss, such as how to survive this imminent attack?"

Bayard said boldly, the sword still at his throat, "I will return to the villains Sire and inform them that your company is asleep and unawares, seemingly betraying you in hopes they spare my life. Meanwhile, I suggest you heap up your blankets to make it appear your men still sleep while you hide yourselves in ambush in the shadows just outside the camp."

The Prince and lieutenant both nodded, it was a good idea and their best chance, but the Prince frowned, "will you not be taking a great risk, throwing yourself on the mercy of these fiends?"

Bayard eyed the lieutenant stonily, "perhaps Sire, but as I could do nothing for our unfortunate companion, let us hope I can be of more benefit to the rest of you." The man had lowered his sword and gave the intrepid boy a grave nod, though whether in farewell, as an apology, or in acknowledgement of the risk he took, Bayard was unsure. He saluted the Prince and vanished again into the shadows outside the camp, covering the distance in the blink of an eye. The Prince and his lieutenant exchanged a grim look and then hastened to make ready the ambush.

Bayard entered the island of light amidst the sea of darkness eked out precariously by a flickering lantern wherein the bandits towered over the mortally wounded guard, from whom their leader was trying to extract information as to his companions and their precise location. Said the boy at their backs, causing all eyes to turn on him suddenly and every hand to reach for a weapon, "let the fellow die in peace, if it is information you want, perhaps I can avail you." He glanced nervously into the dark and then back to the bandits, "only spare my life."

The bandits eyed him stonily but with anticipation while the moribund guard gave him such a look of revulsion that for a moment he felt a veritable traitor. The leader of the thieves dropped the failing form of the guard, rose from his crouch, and glowered at the boy, "speak and then we'll decide what comes of you. Where is the camp? What of the occupants?"

Bayard shivered involuntarily and said, "you'll find them about a bow shot in that direction. The camp itself is quiet as a tomb, you'll find no one stirring and even the sentries are strangely silent."

"Very well," said the bandit king thoughtfully stroking his chin, "if it is as you say, you have ransomed your life, but if things go ill, I shall know where to find you. Wait here." He ordered his men on towards the camp with all haste and left the boy alone with the dying man and the guttering lamp.

The man was failing quickly, but his outrage gave him presence of mind enough to glare at the treacherous boy for all he was worth and gasp out, "coward! You betray the entire camp to save your own skin? I knew there was something odd about you, but I had not thought it was a rotten heart!" His tirade was cut short by a bout of spastic coughing which left him pale and gasping.

A sudden awe fell upon him even as the lamp sputtered and died, but a different light filled the macabre scene, as if a star had strayed from the heavens to walk among mortal men. Both men were silent in wonder, Bayard was on his knees with head bowed while the dying man could only gape in awe and terror, unable to move or speak. The Unicorn looked from one to the other with eyes that could penetrate their very souls and knew intimately the minutest part of their beings. His gaze settled on the moribund guard, who now trembled in both joy and terror, the horrors of the day forgotten and all that now mattered was this wonderful and awful vision before him. The Unicorn nuzzled the stricken man gently, Bayard heard a whispered, "hush child," and then the light blazed forth with such intensity that he felt himself unmade, or at least his physical form was extinguished like a candle flame in a gust of wind.

Everything was darkness, save for an eerie glow of moonlight caught in the vagrant mist in that particular patch of the hoary wood, though the moon never penetrated the dense canopy above. Bayard blinked, or whatever the equivalent was in his current form, and slowly realized he could think once more. The indescribable radiance and wonder that had consumed him left no room or need for anything else. He glowed joyfully in remembrance but soon realized where he was and pulled himself together. He was again a mortal lad in a forsaken wood with a murderous band of thieves intent on mischief not a bowshot from where he sat; he gazed about and his eyes fell sadly upon the unmoving form of the guard, but there was nothing now to be done for the wretched man. He frowned in thought and then smiled at his own blindness, he could see quite well in the dark but it was not completely dark about him, for the mist still glowed with its own subtle light. He laughed for joy and called out, "come, this is no time for reticence! We have work to be about."

The mist gathered itself together and a manlike form, both joyous and perplexed, stepped into being. The luminescence retreated but neither Messenger had trouble seeing in the pitch dark. They studied one another for a long a moment, until at last the former guardsman smiled in wonder and embarrassment, "I had everything completely backwards, did I not? You are not the villain at all." He looked longingly in the direction of the camp, "you will keep a close eye on the Prince then?" Bayard nodded, the other smiled, and said in farewell, "then I shall leave him in your capable hands while I return to ward the King and his court. Farewell!" He faded away and Bayard did likewise.

He reappeared on the outskirts of the camp just as the last bandit fell with a well placed stroke by one of the guards. Several of the armsmen bore minor wounds, but otherwise all had escaped unscathed; the same could not be said for the bandits, the last of which moaned quietly and then silence engulfed the astonished camp as all took in the miraculous fact that they had survived. The Prince saw Bayard lingering hesitantly on the verge of the light cast from the scattered embers and exuberantly ran to meet him; the lieutenant eyed him coldly but put away his sword. Bayard made his courtesies to the Prince and then said to the lieutenant, "your man is dead, sir." The man nodded grimly, muttered something about the necessities of war, and then he wandered out of hearing distance, leaving the Prince and Messenger alone as the rest of the guards began setting the camp in order. The Prince recounted the rousing tale and his part in it, asked after Bayard's own, and then they all gathered round the rekindled fire for some much needed rest and companionship, though there would be no more sleep that night. As soon as there was the faintest hint of light in that old wood, the party was immediately in their saddles and hoping to reach the far side by nightfall.

They passed through that forbidden wood with all haste the next day without incident and gladly did they spend that night under all the stars of heaven. As they mounted up the next morning, Bayard drew Kipril and the Prince momentarily aside and said, "you both know I am a noble exile from the Kingdom we are swiftly approaching and that great tragedy has happened of late within the Royal family itself, depriving the King of both his sons."

The Prince's eyes grew wide with concern, "you are not saying that you had some part in this tragedy and were thus banished?"

Bayard smiled sadly, "aye and no Sire, I was no part of the conspiracy but bore my share of the sorrow in the betrayal of one brother of the other. Both mysteriously vanished and few know the full truth of the matter, leaving the Princess the King's sole child and heir. After all that has happened, few will deign to look upon me or acknowledge my existence, so do not be surprised when I am not welcomed as one of their own; my presence will not hinder your own aspirations but neither will I be a boon to your fortunes either."

The Prince bore a wan smile, nodded thoughtfully, and said, "very well, you have been a helpful and faithful companion thus far and I would in nowise cast you aside. Let us away, the sooner to reach our destination and perhaps learn the full truth of the matter." They heartily agreed and hastened into their saddles and were soon off upon the next leg of their journey, which passed without surprise or incident.

As they stopped at midday to rest the horses and refresh themselves, Bayard crept away from the main party to peer at his own reflection a bit upstream from where they had watered the horses. He smiled ruefully to see a face not his own. In all the excitement of his recent adventures he had never thought to consider his own appearance, but it seemed his Master had provided in advance that which he would need. He smiled to know that none of his own folk would recognize him and his current companions were none the wiser that this was not the face with which he was born. Kipril knelt beside him and gazed curiously into the stream, asking, "trying to catch some trout?"

Bayard smiled ruefully and quickly explained his predicament. Kipril said heartily, "fear not, for it seems all that we need is already or will be provided. How will your heart fare in returning to the scene of such sorrow and grief?"

Bayard looked again at the stranger in the brook before smiling sadly at Kipril, "it will not be easy I think, but neither will it rend my heart as once it might, ere I found fulfillment in our Master." He stood and said, "come, we had best get back to the others ere we are missed." They walked companionably back to where the others sat eating their midday meal and Bayard silently thanked his Master for His provision, joy, and love, his heart lighter than it had ever been, fully content that whatever betide, the Master was all he would ever need or want.

A few days later, the company rode up to the gates of the castle that had once been Bayard's home; it was both a joy and a grief to the lad to return thus in a stranger's guise, but he was glad to see his home once more, however briefly. They drew rein outside the gates while the guards looked on curiously, wondering who these strange visitors might be, for no great lord would come so ill-accompanied yet that is exactly what he claimed to be: a prince of the neighboring realm! Zair handed a letter from his father, the King, to the hastily arrived Steward who then rushed off to inform the King, who strangely seemed to be anticipating the new arrivals, and even more surprisingly, came himself to the gates to make their acquaintance, a breach of protocol so grievous that the steward swooned and was left bedridden for two full days afterwards.

The company was welcomed heartily by one and all, though all were still rather perplexed as to who these strangers were and why the King would visit them personally, but they had no wish to insult the King so exuberantly followed suite. Once the party had had time to unpack and refresh themselves, the King summoned the Prince and his two companions to his personal library that they might talk privately and at leisure. The Prince was quite overwhelmed by such a show of familiarity, but Bayard assured him that though the Steward required the utmost adherence to protocol, the King was far from compliant and often chose to treat guests in a far more informal fashion, especially those who might one day be part of the family. Zair's father was never so relaxed or easy-going, even with his own family! So it was that a relieved and astonished Zair found himself chatting freely with his father's greatest ally, as if they were long acquainted, perhaps a doting uncle with his favorite nephew.

While they spoke upon many and various topics, the King silently studied the boy's two companions, trying to discern which of the strange faces hid his son. As the hour grew late, the King stood, yawning expansively, and saying, "it has truly been a pleasure, Sir, and one we must soon repeat, but for my own sake and yours, let us try and get some sleep ere morning."

The Prince stood as the King did, made the proper courtesies, and then withdrew with many fond wishes for a good night's repose. The two Messengers followed the Prince from the room, but Bayard turned to face his father, who watched them go with far too much interest, and gave him a brief nod and a wink. The King smiled impishly, a gesture that might have killed the poor steward had he seen it, and winked in return. They saw the Prince tucked soundly into bed; while Kipril kept watch, Bayard returned to his father's library, invisible to all eyes until he was safely within the room.

He appeared suddenly before the King in his usual guise and smiled warmly for a moment before his Majesty engulfed him in a very unkingly hug. Once the greetings had been formally accomplished, both pulled up a chair and smiled joyously at one another, at last the King broached, "tell me of this Prince of yours, is he a fit match for your sister?"

They spent some little time speaking of the business end of Bayard's visit, but soon they turned to matters pertaining to their family and acquaintances, happenings in the Kingdom of late, and so forth. At last the conversation came around to Bayard's strange occupation and the family's reaction to the loss of their sons. Said the King, "it has not been easy, losing both of you that way, but knowing I have not lost you utterly has been of great comfort to me and mine. Now what of you, are you content in this quest you have undertaken?"

Bayard smiled thoughtfully, "yes Sire, I have never been happier or more content, I have truly found my place and my purpose. How does my sister feel about the prospect of being Queen?"

The King smiled conspiratorially, "she is both eager and rather overwhelmed by it, mostly because she is loath to choose a husband, doubting she can find a man of which I can approve and yet she can be fond. This Prince of yours might be just the thing, and who knows, perhaps he will unite our two realms! Contrary to his own advice, the King did not sleep at all that night, but as dawn broke upon the world, he chivied his son off that the servants not catch them in such uncouth activities.

Bayard ghosted into the Prince's chambers, unseen just as the ever-watchful Kipril, who said upon his return, "nothing at all interesting happened last night. How was your chat with your father?" He smiled impishly, "when do I get to go have an adventure and leave you to mind his Majesty?"

Bayard grinned and said, "his Highness shall meet the Princess today, that should be adventure enough for any of us." Kipril made a face, remembering his own near escape from the clutches of what he now realized was a rather insipid and vain lady. Bayard laughed, "fear not, my sister is nowhere near so vacuous as your former lady."

The Prince groaned in his sleep and rolled over, the Messengers exchanged a knowing smile and then retreated from the chamber, though still unseen. His Majesty was up an hour later, dressed and ready for the day, but nervous as a noble youth on his first boar hunt. Asked he of Bayard, who met him in the hall outside his chambers, "what is she like, this Princess of yours."

Bayard grinned, "we have discussed this already Highness, all that remains is for you to meet and make your own appraisal. Now let us go down to breakfast and perhaps you shall have your chance later this morning." The boy sighed reluctantly but allowed his companions to herd him down to breakfast, which seemed to revive his nerve; it was an eager rather than a nervous young man who presented himself at a small reception in his honor immediately after breakfast. The King, Queen, and Princess were in attendance, along with a few of the higher-ranking nobles, officers, and advisors of the land, but Zair had eyes only for the Princess. They stood for a long while off to one side of the room, chatting and laughing like old friends before the Prince asked if she would like to accompany him on a tour of the gardens, to which she readily agreed. The King and Queen exchanged a pleased look while the other guests were rather miffed the outlander Prince had not so much as exchanged morning greetings with them, but he was completely enthralled by the lady.

At last, after all the heartache and tragedy, joy had come again to that Kingdom and there was again a son in the Royal family, and after a happy span of years, when both Kings had retired from mortal striving, the two nations became one and enjoyed several generations of peace and prosperity while a war raged on unseen and unsuspected all around them between the Light and the Darkness. But happily, we already know the Light wins out and evil can only prevail for a time, after which all may know, 'happily ever after.'

Over the Hills and Faraway

Susan Skylark

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2014 Susan Skylark

Table of Contents:

For Fear of Little Men

Unimpeded Vision

Truly Rich

Sophie Under the Hill

Swansong

When Pigs Fly

A Lady Unknown

Words, Words, Words

The Reason Why

Forbidden Draught

By Candlelight

And Other Nonsense

Wisdom's Children

Earthbound

Beyond the Distant Hills

Strange the Paths of Fate

If Only

Come What May

Fit to Rule?

Varied Strangers

The Unicorn Hunt

Blood and Water

Wisp

Bad Poetry

' _Tom, he was a piper's son,_

He learnt to play when he was young,

And all the tune that he could play

Was 'Over the hills and far away.''

~Nursery Rhyme~

' _Over the hills and far away,'_

thither lies the land of Fey,

Of wandering brook and woodland glade,

Golden meads and dappled shade.

Where evening star is guide and stay

And in the vales, mist doth play.

Dryad, pixie, gnome dwell there,

Griffons lurk and dragons lair.

Songs of old live on there still,

Legend treads on plain and hill.

Beasts that talk and trees that sing,

The poor be rich, a peasant King.

If that land, you would gain,

Take a child in your train,

Let him lead you by the hand,

And you will reach that far, fair land.

~Over the Hills and Far Away~

This is a book of contrasts, a stewpot wherein anything and everything might lurk with each spoonful a different taste: high adventure and complete nonsense, serious quests and silly meanderings, real poetry and doggerel verse, one moment grave as death and blithe as a lark the next. As in life, the world of story and Faerie in particular is a varicolored, ever shifting landscape of joy and sorrow, laughter and tears, adventure and quietude. Each story is preceded by a bit of verse or a quotation that may or may not be relevant, many of them are inspired by old nursery rhymes as one wonders what came of the original tale beyond the little passed down from time immemorial to the wondering hearts of children through the ages. Life is a story and with these bits and pieces of story, this crazy quilt of whimsy as it were, perhaps it will add a little more wonder to your own.

Up the airy mountains,

Down the rushy glen,

We daren't go a-hunting

For fear of little men;

Wee folk, good folk,

Trooping all together;

Green jacket, red cap,

And white owl's feather!

~William Allingham, 'The Fairies'~

For Fear of Little Men

Beatrice was missing, and none were fain to seek her, save her little brother, Tibbin, but could a mere child go where grown men feared to tread? Perhaps only a little child could. She had strayed up into the hills after her father's missing sheep and none had seen her for a full three days. No one ventured into those hills, for they were known to be haunted by all manner of folk, strange and fey, and it was folly for mortals to tread thereupon. No, the girl was lost, spirited away or bewitched by some fell being, never more to be seen by mortal men under sun and star, at least not in any natural form; her family might as well accept the truth, embrace their loss, and move on with their lives, or so whispered the villagefolk. But Tibbin was not content to lose his sister thus, but loath were his parents to part with their remaining child, so did he make for those forbidden hills without their knowing or leave, save for a brief note of farewell, imparting his fate. Aghast, his parents asked of their friends and neighbors if any were willing to go after. They merely shook their heads and muttered darkly amongst themselves, who would risk their lives when the boy willingly chose his doom? It was not to be helped. The aggrieved couple went home to wait, perhaps vainly, for news of what had come of their children.

Tibbin was a child but he was not a fool, he was young but also sensible. His elders all feared the fairyfolk, mostly because they did not understand them, albeit they had little interaction with that mysterious kindred and only a few old tales, likely flawed, to rely upon for information pertaining thereunto, but they were also small-minded and superstitious, little liking anything outside their ken, which was pretty much anything and everything outside the confines of their secluded village. Tibbin was still young enough to be untainted by their blindness and prejudice; for his were the wide, unguarded eyes of childhood that saw things as they were rather than as the viewer thought them to be. He was a little leery of the fey folk, as all creatures are of the unknown, but he was not paralyzed or handicapped by unmerited terror as his elders were. Thus did he hie himself into those mysterious hills, the only hope for his sister. He took with him enough bread, cheese, and water to last him a week of hard scrabbling over rocky ground, hoping it would be enough. He took no weapons, save a little knife, which was tool rather than implement of death. With his meager rations and a stout, faithful heart did he set out upon quest great and daring.

He left at twilight when his parents thought him abed, creeping carefully out of the house and into the brushy waste behind, clambering over stones and thorny scrub by the light of a slivered moon and a few bright stars. He went as far as he could in the wan light, at least far enough that pursuit would not follow, and then laid himself down under a gorse bush to find what rest he could. An impertinent bird started trilling in said bush at an unearthly hour, wakening the stiff, cold hero into a misty world of gold and rose. He smiled despite his discomfort and drank in the beauty about him, like a connoisseur a rare and delicate wine. He stretched, breakfasted, and was soon off into the mysterious otherworldliness of dawn, feeling that his adventure was well and truly begun. His sister surely waited around the next bend in the path or just over the hill. He whistled as airily as the bird as he set forth.

His sister was not over the next hill, but a short, stocky man with a prodigious beard sat upon a stone in the thinning mist, smoking his pipe. Asked the boy of the stoic figure, "have you perchance seen or heard of a young girl roaming these hills within the last sevennight, good sir?"

The dwarfish gentleman smiled broadly at the lad's boldness, withdrew his pipe, and exhaled thoughtfully, "aye lad, aye. Not a rabbit goes through these hills without my knowing it. How is it you have the courage to come when none of your elders would bestir themselves?"

Said the boy with a shrug, "none would come, so there was only me. Please sir, have you seen my sister?"

The man nodded sagely, "she's taken up with a few of the pixies that haunt meadow and lea, dangerous consorts for a mortal lass."

The boy paled, "have they harmed her or is she in great peril?"

The dwarf laughed, "aye and nay, lad, aye and nay! Those fairies are as feckless and giddy as any lass your sister's age, but they never grow up or wiser, and neither do they age nor die. They will not hurt a mayfly or aught else, but rather delight in all that is pretty and ephemeral: flowers, butterflies, robin's eggs, and the like. They have no use or comprehension of the greater, eternal things but are like a brook's laugh or a dancing little wind in their seriousness and wisdom. The danger lies in the fact Time and Death mean nothing to them. Your sister, if she is not careful, may get so caught up in their whimsical nonsense that she forgets such things herself and by the time she remembers them, may find herself a very old lady with naught of life left to her. It is a tricky thing when mortals think to involve themselves in matters beyond their ken and natural sphere. Your kind is made for eternity, but must enter it through the proper door, not try to sneak in the window."

The boy was silent for a long while as he contemplated the little man's words, and finally said, "can I draw her back?"

The man nodded, "aye lad, if she will come, but she may be so entranced with the merriment and giddiness of her companions that she will yearn to stay. If she will not go of her own will, no power on earth or beyond it will move her. Take heed to yourself, that you not find yourself also caught up in things beyond your natural sphere. Someday perhaps, such or rather far greater shall be your lot, but do not be tempted into seizing it ere it is time for only trouble will come of it." The boy heartily thanked the old man and hastened in the direction he was bidden. The dwarf watched after and wondered what would come of the lad and his sister, silently shaking his head at the recklessness and abandon of those silly pixies and the inadvertent havoc it could wreak upon a mortal creature.

Tibbin had not gone far when he spied a rather curious creature crouching in the shade of a great oak. It appeared to be a lad his own age, but his full height would only reach his father's knee; he was light of build, eye, and hair and his ears were slightly tapered. He winked at the staring boy, motioned eagerly for the lad to follow, and vanished into the hedge of roses at the base of the tree. Tibbin took two happy steps after the fairy creature but then froze, his quest was his sister, not to be caught up in a fate like unto hers. He sighed heavily but turned staunchly back upon his original path and intent. The little creature watched after, for a moment a little disappointed, but then some other amusement soon caught his attention and his lost companion was immediately forgotten.

By the time the sun was on its downward journey, Tibbin had come to the little meadow wherein the dwarf said his sister and her merry companions might be found on occasion. He settled down in a thicket of young birches to await their coming. Neither was the wait to be tedious, dull, or lonely. The world, in itself, was young, spry, pleasant, and full of the wonders of spring, but those hills were haunted by all manner of folk and creature unknown to the children of men, and in this varied parade, Tibbin found endless marvel and interest. Most ignored him, some were openly scornful, and a few asked him to follow in their merry wake, but ever he sat and awaited the coming of Beatrice and her fairy companions. So did he wait for three full days, eating from his scant provisions and refreshing himself in the ever singing brook by which he sat, finally on a night of mist and moon and starlight, five bright figures came laughing and dancing into the water meadow, Beatrice as radiant and blithe as her companions.

Tibbin rose from his place with a joyous shout and for a moment the pixies quivered like frightened birds, but soon they arrayed themselves about him in a merry dance of welcome and curiosity. Beatrice at first did not know him, but as his song joined in their lilting chorus, his well loved voice broke the thrall about her and she joyously left her place in the circle and flew into her brother's arms with tears of unspeakable longing and delight. The piping and cavorting of the fairies increased tenfold at such mirth and delightedly did they share therein, but soon they tired of the newcomer and were rather perplexed and no little troubled by the strange sobbing that now wracked their once gay companion. For nothing did they know of sorrow or death. With a merry call, did they bid Beatrice to flit off with them anew, careless once more, but she smiled sadly, wiped a mysterious moisture from her eyes and cheek, and shook her head adamantly. The pixies shrugged indifferently and capered off into the creeping mist to join the dance of the fireflies, their companion utterly forgotten. Beatrice shook her head ruefully, took Tibbin's hand, and returned to his place amongst the birches. They slept soundly until roused by the zealous chorus of a morning in spring. Hand in hand, they left that lovely meadow and turned their steps and hearts longingly towards home.

They met the little man, still sitting on his accustomed stone and smoking his pipe, perhaps as he had done since the first morning of the world. He smiled joyously at them, waved enthusiastically, and then vanished. They shared a mystified smile and continued on their way. They might have slept another night in the bush but knew their parents were mourning their presumed fate and were eager to turn their weeping to joy. So it was that joy came with the morning. Their father stood aback the house, staring morbidly off into the hills and thought himself in a delirium when he glimpsed his lost children walking blithely back from the land of things forgotten and unknown. He trumpeted his wonder and joy so loudly that the entire village was roused. His wife came disbelieving from the house, took one look at what had so disquieted her husband, and added her own shriek of pure joy to the cacophony of laughing welcome and wonder.

The grim eyed, fretful villagers gathered round the happy little foursome and muttered darkly about curses, possession, and worse. A few even clutched a kitchen knife, pitchfork, or wood axe in nervous dread. The now grave father stood forth and asked of his disturbed folk, "my children have returned unscathed, why do you not rejoice?"

Said one distrustful old man, "who are you to say they are unscathed? Who knows what terrible curse might have been laid upon them? None venture into those hills and returns unchanged, if they return at all. They are a threat and a danger to us all as long as they remain among us. Send them back or send them away lest evil befall us all, else we will take matters into our own hands."

The man shook his head in grim disgust, but before he could reply to this nonsense, Tibbin took his hand, looked gently into his eyes, and said with a wisdom far beyond his years, "heed him not father, he knows not of what he speaks and no words of yours will change his mind." Unchanged indeed! The man smiled down at this young sage, caught the eyes of all his dear ones, and then looked once more upon those mysterious hills. A brilliant flicker of gold and white upon a far hill, like a distant star, filled all his vision and called bewitchingly to his very soul. Said Tibbin with tremulous, but joyous finality, "come, come away!" He took his father's hand, his mother and sister joined theirs also, and the entire family boldly made for that distant vision, the flummoxed villagers parting before them like water around the bow of a boat. They vanished into those wondrous hills and were seen in that village no more. Many and dark were the rumors of the witchery that had taken an entire clan and the grim fate that had undoubtedly befallen them, but I can assure you, they were all of them wrong.

There was an old woman tossed up in a basket,

Seventeen times as high as the moon;

Where she was going I couldn't but ask it,

For in her hand she carried a broom.

' _Old woman, old woman, old woman,' quoth I,_

' _Where are you going to up so high?'_

' _To brush the cobwebs off the sky!'_

' _May I go with you?'_

' _Aye, by and by.'_

~Nursery Rhyme~

Unimpeded Vision

It was dreadful, quite awful really, and what could be done about it? All the expanse of heaven was quite unkept, a most disastrous state of untidiness abounded therein! Why one could hardly see the stars for all the dirt and grime and filth that had accumulated over the eons. Who was in charge of dusting the firmament? Whoever the housekeeper was, it seemed she had been discharged long ago and never replaced. It was a disgrace and that was the end of it. But what could one, earthbound mortal do to rectify this startling state of disarray? There was nothing for it but to apply for the position of Housekeeper of the Stars and see what came of the matter. Gertrude went back inside after gaping at the grotesque untidiness of the night sky determined to do something about it. She put on her best clothes and off she went with such a look on her face that warring armies might well step aside to let her pass.

She was not quite sure to whom to complain about the matter or where to apply for this exalted, though long neglected, position so she went first to the local Lord, to see if he might not have some idea how to rectify the problem. If the local authorities were stymied, she was ready to apply to the King himself. She marched herself up to the front door of the elegant mansion, much to the dismay and chagrin of the servants as this behavior was far from proper, and pounded with such fervency that the butler dared not ignore her summons. Before he could drone out his platitudes and excuses in an excruciating monotone, the bold dame shouldered right past him and stalked into the depths of the house, completely mortifying the servants. She called upstairs and down, she thundered from garret to cellar, and roamed throughout the abode until she found his lordship, still in his dressing gown, blinking blearily at her over a half consumed cup of tea in his sitting room. He gazed at her in silence, not knowing what exactly this apparition was or what it might want, but certain he had never seen such a dreadful creature since the Housekeeper of his youth had passed from mortal striving.

"Dreadful! Absolutely dreadful!" quoth she.

His Lordship blinked and stared uneasily into his teacup, he never had the heart to stand up to the old Housekeeper and this creature might easily be her very twin.

Continued she without pause for breath or mercy, "something must be done! Who can rectify the matter? I'll go myself if I must! But I demand something be done!"

Gulped his lordship, "anything you wish madam, all you need do is ask it!"

She smiled slightly then, took an uninvited seat across from him, helped herself to biscuits and tea, and said smugly, "very good sir, very good. I wish to begin immediately."

His lordship gaped in distress, he had hoped to grant the martinet a boon and send her on her way, instead he feared she had just hired herself on as a member of his staff, if not as his wife! Stuttered he, "what exactly is it you want madam?"

She turned those steely eyes upon him and he felt himself melting into the overstuffed chair beneath him, said she, "the whole state of matters is most disgraceful and I mean to amend them. I fear the position of Housekeeper has lain vacant far too long and the current state of things is quite dire. I will begin at once."

The chair was not voracious enough to consume his lordship entirely, mores the pity, but at least he was not now betrothed to the creature, but Housekeeper? He had a housekeeper and she was not half so intimidating, but he could not gainsay this dread woman, what was he to do? He mumbled incoherently, "but I do not need another housekeeper madam..."

She scoffed a laugh at him, "what? I do not want to be your housekeeper sir! Really! The nerve to think that I would lower myself to such levels as housekeeping for another man when I have my own tidy cottage so well in hand! Really, sir, you go too far!" The man stared at her in perplexed relief as she brazenly continued, "nay, nay, I will be the Housekeeper of the Stars, not of this measly hermitage! What cheek! What nerve! I tell you sir, I will not stand for it! If my husband were alive..." She rattled on for some minutes and his lordship pitied the poor soul whom he knew without doubt had been henpecked to death by this intimidating biddy. "Now," said she after taking a deep, calming breath, "to whom do I speak about applying for the position?"

Much relieved to have this hurricane in crinolines eager to be on its way, his lordship's nerve gathered itself together and said meekly, "perhaps the King's astronomers will have some notion as to how to rectify the problem." She nodded at him curtly, finished her tea, and vanished as suddenly as she had come. His lordship lay as one in a faint, joyously overwhelmed by his escape.

Gertrude hastened herself to the capital city wherein most of the Royal Functionaries were stationed, but to her dismay and everyone else's relief, she soon discovered that the Royal Astronomers kept their quarters far up a distant mountain, thus to be closer to their subject of interest. She hied herself thither with all the speed only a determined woman can muster and soon reached her quarry, for not even mountains could stand in her way. It was yet to be seen whether the tides would dare stand against this phenomenon, or whether there was anything in heaven or earth that could thwart her will. The Astronomers, thin, wispy haired, wide-eyed creatures all, certainly offered no resistance to whatever it was that she might propose. They knew nothing about said position and certainly did not think the stars obscured by grit and grime of late, but who were they to gainsay such a one?

They stared awkwardly at their feet, nodding and murmuring affirmations when appropriate and when her tirade had come to its end, the head Astronomer said, "madam this is a serious matter, surely. What is it you propose?"

She stared at this insolent mouse with her hawkish eyes and said sternly, "who then oversees the cleaning and maintenance of heaven and earth?"

The astronomers exchanged uneasy mumblings but their leader meekly proclaimed, "such matters are beyond the wisdom of mere men such as we, madam. But perhaps you should betake yourself to the source of the problem and have a closer look upon the matter, and if things are as dire as they now appear, then you will also be in a very good position to set affairs in order."

"Excellent," said that she-lion of a lady, "a most excellent idea. I will take the matter into my own hands and rectify it immediately. Bring me a broom at once!" She frowned, "but how am I to reach my destination? This mountain is not nearly high enough and I suppose no one has thought to build a staircase or ladder high enough to reach?"

Squeaked one of the apprentices, "Master Tell has been experimenting with balloons, madam, perhaps one of his contraptions will bear you hence?"

She stared at the creature as she might a mouse in her pantry, not comprehending him in the least, but ordered him to introduce her to this Master Tell immediately. Master Tell was sent for and as easily cowed by this bonneted thunderstorm as all the rest of them. His experiments with trapping hot air and sending small baskets aloft were quickly explained and the good dame demanded that he immediately send her into the heavens thus. He tried to explain that he had only succeeded with very small apparatuses thus far and it would be quite dangerous to attempt such a feat with so large an object as she, but thankfully he never reached this last point in his argument, for she would brook no dissension, for had he said the latter he would not have lived to see his suppositions come true. Instead he squeaked what might have been an "at once madam," and fled the room to make his preparations.

The broom was fetched and the basket and balloon prepared and that determined lady stood upon the summit as the first stars peeped out, ready to ascend into the heavens and challenge the grime therein to mortal combat for its insolence in obscuring the stars. All was ready and she had only to order her minions to release the ropes holding the basket to the earth. But first she put on her spectacles, that she might have an unimpeded view of what was to come. "Oh dear," murmured she in some distress, "this certainly cannot be fathomed! How terrible, how has it come to this? Can such a tidy person as myself truly be in possession of such dirty glasses? Oh me, oh my! You there!" She grabbed the lead astronomer's cravat without so much as a 'by your leave,' and proceeded to wipe her glasses clean. She replaced them on her nose and was quite astounded by the result. "Quite!" said she, and without a further word stepped from the basket, handed back the broom, and sailed home in a state of blithe content. The astronomers and balloon master exchanged a puzzled glance, but were too relieved at her vanishment to fret much about all the trouble she had put them to or to require an explanation of her extraordinary proposal.

Laughed she to herself as she turned in at her own door, "silly me! I forgot to clean my glasses. The stars are quite as tidy as ever, it was my own spectacles that needed the attention. If only that gossiping neighbor of mine does not find out about this..." Her mission accomplished, that good lady turned her attention to more pressing matters, such as the unruly state of the garden adjacent to her own.

Gray goose and gander,

Waft your wings together

And carry the good King's daughter

Over the one strand river.

~Nursery Rhyme~

Truly Rich

They were alike as could be, each as gray and wrinkled as the other, with sparkling eyes of an equally unassuming hue; so long had they been together and so alike had they become with time and shared experience that it was often hard to tell the one from the other, this old man and his ancient dame. It had been the cherished hope of their younger selves, so long ago that even Time itself might have forgotten, to have a cottage filled with the music of young laughter and the fairylike song of many happy children yet this dream had never come to pass and now in their fading years there was no joyous overflowing of love from many grateful hearts to lighten the burden of the ever heavier years. There was still love enough between the aged man and his dear lady to cause bitter envy in the hearts of those with far more money, fame, and power who had not even the merest hint of such fidelity and contentment, who knew nothing of the joys and heartrending sorrows of so many shared years. For though poor in material and temporal considerations, never had there been a couple so rich in the things that truly mattered, the things that would last forever and so were they rich indeed though the dearest prayer of their hearts had not yet been fulfilled, even in this were they content though a grievous sorrow it was.

But this is a fairytale and such love neither goes unnoticed nor unrewarded (though one might argue that it is in itself a fit reward), and neither can such a wish go forever unfulfilled. So it was that a certain man appeared on their doorstep one evening as her ladyship the sun gathered her scarlet cloak about her, took up her candle, and vanished behind the distant hills. He was alone and he came afoot. He was as common a man as one might ever think to find and never could one quite recall his face or clothes though you spent an entire afternoon in his company. So did this unassuming personage ask for a night's shelter and a portion of their meager supper, which they were happy to provide, eager for company as much as wishing to assist him by any possible means. He might be indifferent to look upon, but the couple was well rewarded for their compassion, for he was no common companion. He could weave a tale like few outside the bardic brotherhood and had had a life so full of experience and adventure that there was material aplenty to draw upon. Well content in their company, none thought to retire to bed until well after her ladyship again graced the distant east, swathed in fluffy layers of subtlest rose.

The old couple then retired to their rest and their enigmatic guest bid them a fond farewell as he was intent on his journey though no sleep had he found that night. For many days thereafter did they recall that evening with delight and joy, savoring the memory as over-particular lords relish their fine viands. But soon an event occurred that drove all consideration of the past from their minds and brought them fully to bear upon the astonishing present. For on a night of tempestuous rain, there came a knocking upon the door and they thought some poor beggar, lost in the storm, lay upon the doorstep hoping for succor from the bitter night. But this was no beggar, but rather a caterwauling basket that howled in equal vehemence with the storm without. Perplexed, the old dame brought the wailing hamper into the snug confines of the cottage and revealed an irate babe, keening like a dozen sodden cats.

And of course, the poor thing was none other than a princess, so imperiled by some unknown enemy that her raising must be done in the most humble and secret of circumstances. Delighted, the elderly pair eagerly accepted the vehement mite into their keeping and so abounded the love and joy in that place, that a wandering angel might be forgiven to think it had strayed into an earthly bit of heaven. The maid grew and so too did her guardians save that it was ever more gray and wrinkled in their case. Their years by now far exceeded that common to mortal wont, which utterly perplexed them but happy were they to guard and guide this little princess into maidenhood. At last the day of revelation came, as it always must in such tales, and one bright morning found a herald standing at the door in his splendid livery with trumpets blazing and an impressive equipage standing at the ready. The man demanded the immediate return of the long hidden princess, but the couple just sat in their chairs and stared stonily at this far too blatant individual, not liking the feel of him in the least. Said the old man at last, "she is out tending the geese and who knows the hour of her return?"

The herald accomplished a splendid 'harrumph' and stormed at the elderly pair who bore his rantings as stoically as a mountain the tempest. At last a dark figure emerged from the splendid carriage and the furious servant melted into trembling silence. So draped in black robes and veils was this personage that none could see his face or grasp the shape of his person, but he stood far taller and broader than any common man and he emanated raw power and evil feeling as a stove gives off heat. So ill-feeling was he that a shadow seemed to drape itself about the little cottage and the garden thereabouts and even the sun seemed uneasy in her shining. Said he in grim and stentorian tones, "give me the girl!"

The ancient pair shook their heads grimly and the man laughed as an avalanche might before it descends ruthlessly upon some innocent and hapless victim. "So be it," said he with careless dismissal. He turned his back on the couple, motioned for his servants to make ready their departure, and flicked a black draped hand derisively at the obstinate pair. The great carriage rattled off, leaving only a pair of overly large and quite flummoxed geese to exchange an astonished look in its wake.

The goose waddled to a corner of the house and after some minutes of rummaging around awkwardly with the as yet unfamiliar bill, returned to the gander with a long unused basket. He studied the basket for a moment and then set to gabbling eagerly in his honking voice and twitching his tail in excitement. He then wandered out to the shed and after an equal amount of awkward effort returned with a bit of old twine in his bill. His lady bobbed her head in appreciation and together they painstakingly tied the rope to the basket. Once finished, they patiently awaited the return of the princess. They had no fears that the vile sorcerer would find her first, for how could such a story end so unhappily? Even if the fell wizard found her, there was undoubtedly a prince or a knight or some such just waiting his chance to rescue her. So they made their preparations, as puzzling to an observer as might be, but they knew for some inexplicable reason that this is what must be done. And at last the Princess returned with her charges, who were quite put out to see strangers in their demesne, and not only strangers but huge strangers at that. They hissed and threatened, but a little posturing on the part of the great gander send the lot of them honking and shrieking in defeat and terror back to their pen.

The princess looked upon the overlarge geese with wonder, but recalling that this was undoubtedly a fairytale, thought no more of the matter and set to studying the prepared basket instead. She shook her head in wonder, she knew exactly what she must do and hoped that some sensible fairy had instilled this particular basket with size altering abilities as well as the waterproofing it had exhibited upon her advent upon the doorstep two decades prior. She sat in the basket, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and was happy to see that her suspicions were correct. The great geese honked their approval and each took up one end of the attached rope in their bills and then took to the air. Happily the basket was also equipped with gravity defying spells for just such an exigency and the Princess was soon borne aloft and well out of the clutches of the evil mage whose carriage was even then returning to the cottage of her girlhood. She laughed for utter joy and journeyed ever deeper into her own fairytale.

They flew onward, ever onward through sunsets and rises, across forest and lake and field, over cities, mountains, and waste. They neither wearied nor required food or water as ever they continued on. At last, after what might have been a year if it were not a day, they came to a great river whose far side they could not see. They settled then upon the bank and held a honking conference in their strange anseriform tongue while the princess waited silently in her extraordinary basket. Suddenly the rumble of carriage wheels and the clatter of hooves overwhelmed the nearly silent river's song. Without another thought, feeling the advent of dire evil upon them, the pair took again to the air and set out for the far side of the great river. The dark wizard emerged from his carriage and watched them shrink into the distance, his fist raised in silent fury at his vanished quarry, irate that his own curse should be used against him in such a way.

On and on they flew and never did the far shore appear, yet neither did the sun rise or set in this strange world; only stars shimmered overhead in their age old dance but never did the moon raise his face above the boundless waters. At last, exhausted, the pair made to settle upon the water and hoped the magnificent basket had floatation enchantments woven about it as well, but they needn't have worried, for as soon as they began their descent the waters parted and a broad bar of white sand appeared before them, seeming to glow with the reflected light of the stars above. They settled then, the basket coming to rest as gently as a dove lights on the ground. The Princess emerged from her basket for what might have been the first time in millennia or perhaps minutes, who could tell in this strange land? Whether the bar grew or the newcomers shrank was anyone's guess but suddenly there was land all about them, as far as eye could see and in the east the glimmer of sunrise hinted that they again walked the mortal earth. A bright and shining castle, whose stones might have been uncut diamonds, glittered in the rising light of day and from it emerged a King with his Queen upon his arm.

The geese waggled their tails and bobbed their heads in excited greeting while the Princess dropped a very proper curtsy to these who must unquestioningly be her true parents. So as to defy all storybook requirements, the only thing remarkable about this particular King was that he was quite unremarkable. The feathered couple knew him at once as their uncommonly common companion of twenty years previous and honked excitedly in greeting. The aged couple was soon relieved of their goosish guise even as the shackles of age also dropped from their persons. Joining hands altogether, rejoicing as they went, all entered the sparkling castle and of a certainty they lived happily ever after, except for the mage of course, who was never happy even in his triumph for he knew nothing of Love.

There was an old woman

Lived under a hill,

And if she's not gone

She lives there still.

~Nursery Rhyme~

Sophie Under the Hill

Her choice of domicile was peculiar, at least to sensibilities distant in time or space, but for all I know it was a rather common phenomenon in that particular place and time, but even if it were not, it suited her and to her mind that was all that mattered, which was as it should be. For you see, she dwelt under a hill and had for as long as local memory could remember, which might as well have been for all eternity as far as most folk were concerned. So it was that this curious old woman, who was apparently never young, acquired a reputation far and wide for not only being rather mysterious, which is what living in any fashion not considered ordinary will gain you, but also for possessing great wisdom, which is the result of living sensibly and being content therein rather than living as your neighbors think you ought and depending solely upon their opinions for your happiness. So it was that her neighbors held her in great awe and even a little fear, at least if an outsider asked them, but amongst themselves they often whispered darkly about the dear lady, with no little of malice and jealously festering beneath their bitter words. For you see, she minded her neighbors not in the least in any matter, preferring to do solely as it pleased her and seeming to thrive thereby which vexed them greatly, for no one should succeed without their input. It was witchery of the vilest sort.

Such an enigmatic and sagacious person held a certain attraction for adventurous youths and questing knights which was not hindered in the least by darker rumors, for who else could offer desperately needed wisdom and advice as such were often seeking? These frequent and unwelcome visitors, at least as the neighbors saw it, only caused further scandal and disquiet in the community, which continued to heighten the dame's infamy and only drew sooth seekers from even more distant climes. These visits drove the neighbors to distraction but the aged lady welcomed each and every visitor as if he were a lost son come home after many years abroad. Though in truth she was neither a worker of terrible magics nor a possessor of knowledge arcane and grim, but what she did have was something far outside the common ken of mortals, and blessed were those who sought her wisdom and received it with a willing heart. She did not whisper in secret with the shades of ancient sages or count her years more numerous than the usual wont of men. So how was it that this near mystical lady came to be a font of wisdom of which the bold and adventurous, the rich and the powerful, oft came to drink?

She was possessed of a great deal of what is wrongly called commonsense, for though quite sensible it is far from common, and thus did many come to visit with the curious lady who dwelt quaintly under hill. She lived quietly, prudently, and contentedly for many a year, much to the annoyance of her neighbors, who could not comprehend such a life and the enjoyment thereof, yet in their self-inflicted misery thought themselves the happier by far but did not understand the source of their own consternation.

So what great advice or sagacious snippets did she give this vast and curious throng that sought her out over the years? What could a woman who lived under a hill in a far flung district know of the world at large or people in particular? This is what all such visitors often asked themselves, but then they had to remember that often what they most sought was to be found in rather strange places, so contented themselves with imbibing a draught of wisdom from this uncanny font. One such adventurer, a peasant lad of the age when he should be finding something useful to do with his life, one day appeared at her door. He knocked boldly, she opened the door with a small, quiet smile that might have been concealing a knowing laugh, and ushered the awkward boy into the cheerful main room of the infamous cottage under hill. His awkwardness vanished as he took the offered chair, munched upon a cookie, and sipped the fresh brewed tea, feeling as if he were sitting at table with his own dear granny. That spritely smile deepened, as if she knew his thoughts, which was very likely as she was rumored to be all knowing, and she asked if she might refill his tea.

He nodded and then began his tale, as she poured, "I need a direction in life, that is why I am come. But of course you knew that already. So what shall I do? My parents wish me to apprentice with the cobbler and marry a nice girl once I have established myself. I want to go adventuring and become a man of wealth and renown, and likely marry a princess, or at least a noble's daughter. What must I do to make my dreams come true?"

Said she with the selfsame smile, "what are these dreams for which you reach?"

The boy stared at her blankly, completely lost as to an answer, his mouth half full of cookie. After a moment he shut his mouth, chewed thoughtfully, swallowed slowly, and said in perplexity, "what are my dreams? They are dreams, aspirations, ideals! What else?"

She laughed like a spring rain, "that is all mist and moonbeams lad! Nothing onto which you can hope to gain a hold nor a proper hook on which to hang a life. You need something concrete, something real, something for which to aim. Can you go hunting with such aspirations and hope to come home successful? Nay lad, you must have a target to shoot at or your arrows will be loosed for naught. What is it you want out of life? Where do you want to be ten or twenty years from now?"

The boy gaped at her again, this time with nothing in his mouth, and suddenly shut his hanging jaw with an audible click. He frowned in thought and was silent for an interminable time before finally saying, "I want to be like my father: a prosperous and respected man in the village with a loving, happy family." He smiled broadly, "your fame is not unearned my lady!" He stood and bowed formally, if awkwardly for lack of practice, "your wisdom gives me hope and direction I would not otherwise have had! Thank you, dear lady!" He nearly skipped out the door and turned his steps towards home, wishing he could start his apprenticeship that very moment.

She watched him go, shaking her head in amusement and that impish smile of delight now sparkling in her eyes. She had long ago given up trying to explain to such guests that they often already possessed the so-called wisdom they sought and merely needed to clarify their own thoughts on the matter in question. Time and again had they given her credit for vast depths of wisdom that she did not necessarily possess. She shook her head ruefully and was about to close the door when her nearest neighbor slipped in at the last moment uninvited, eyeing the remaining cookies and cold tea with interest. Said she without preamble, "more mysterious visitors, hmmm? Care to say more?"

The lady of the house stood by the half open door, as if waiting for her uninvited guest to take the hint and leave, but the invader just stood there waiting for an explanation and fresh tea. The good dame continued to stand there in silence and her neighbor's consternation grew by the moment, finally she turned on her heel and in a flutter of skirts and apron, the nosy woman retreated to gossip with her cronies about the abominable manners and the sinister dealings she was no doubt having with all these strangers as she was unwilling to discuss the matter with her nearest and dearest. The old woman's smile now held an ironic twist, knowing exactly what tale her exasperated neighbor was even now carrying to the rest of the village. She laughed outright and went to put the tea things in order.

If I take the wings of the morning,

and dwell in the uttermost part of the sea...

~Psalm 139~

Swansong

Beauty, immortality, freedom, what more could one want under the mortal sun? Odette ruffled her feathers in irritation, what indeed! Perhaps wisdom and contemplation were far more desirous virtues. The offer seemed too good to be true, which meant it likely was, but little did she heed the uneasy, questioning thought that started back at the very notion. She had walked that path through the woods a thousand times in her life and never had she met anyone or anything upon it that was not commonly found in wood or river, until her last fateful walk three months ago when she met that startlingly beautiful woman who offered her more than she had bargained for. The woman was possessed of uncanny magical abilities, this and her dark beauty drew the unwitting girl inexplicably to her. They wandered along the river, the girl silent in awe and wonder, as a worshipper in the very presence of their god and the woman now and then speaking some word of deep insight or hidden knowledge. Finally, the sorceress stopped and looked out upon the broad expanse of the river, saying thoughtfully, "would you be mistress of your own destiny? Free of the constraints of death and care? Beautiful and free?"

The girl's eyes were wide with wonder and delight, "oh that it could be so!"

The woman's smile was not comforting but Odette was too excited to notice, said the woman, "you wish to go through with this then?" The girl nodded exuberantly, forgetting to ask what exactly it was she was agreeing to. The woman's cruel smile deepened and a malicious delight played in her eyes as she spoke words incomprehensible and vanished. Odette's world suddenly went dark and when she came to herself, she found the world awash in a grey fog with the river's song loud in her ears. She blinked in perplexity and wondered what had happened. She gained her feet and slid easily into the river, only then realizing her strange fate.

The woman had spoken truly, she was beautiful, swans were considered quite comely creatures. She was free, she could fly or swim whither she would. She also knew somehow that she would neither grow old nor become ill while trapped in this form but it also meant remaining forever a mere bird, unless a way could be found to break the spell. She had had her fill of immortality, beauty, and freedom these past three months and was quite ready to return to what she had formerly thought was a rather drab existence. She had flown hither and yon, swum where it pleased her, but she was far from free, imprisoned as she was in this foreign body. The river nymphs were cordial, greeting her as she floated past with a sad smile, but never accepting her as friend and companion. She could not go back to human society nor was the company of other swans acceptable, being only silly beasts. Odette had never been truly lonely before, not to mention bored. She had no purpose, no interest, nothing to do except float down the river and mourn her ill fate. So great was her heartache that often as she drifted down the misty river in the cold starlight she would bemoan her fate in haunting whistles and eerie trumpets, making a fey music that caused its hearers to both shudder and weep in grief and horror, though none knew from whence the song came.

The year was growing old, the cheerful skies of summer grew hoary and grim, brooding pensively like a miser over his hoard. The miserable swan knew she should flee to warmer climes, for there was no place for her among the ice and snows of winter, but she had grown despondent and little cared what the future might hold. The only concession she would make towards the oncoming season was to float down the river towards the distant sea, wondering if her bitterness could lose itself in the undying echo of its disconsolate roar. Leaves fell as she passed, brown and dead, like all her hopes as she floated silently through a grey land.

He stood on the battlements and stared stonily upon the dismal scene: grey sea, grey castle, grey sky, grey stones, grey hair, all of it suited his abominable mood. He had been a fool, and now he would have all the rest of time to contemplate his folly. He had met the sorceress upon the shore one sleepless night when he had gone out to pace up and down and stare at the stars. She was a beautiful creature, but distant and cold as the stars overhead. He had spouted some nonsense about envying the undying stars in their solitary splendor. She had asked if he would like to live forever. Curious, and utterly foolish, he had said that he would. Her laugh had been as chill as the wind that night but only afterwards did he realize it, and only too late. She asked again if he were certain and he had readily agreed. The waves had been fretting all night, but suddenly one great specimen engulfed the sleepless knight and the lady vanished like sea spray. A wan dawn had found him lying on the stony shore, soaked and frozen, but he knew he would live forever. His triumph however died aborning, for no sooner had this certainty arisen in his heart than he glanced at his wrinkled and withered arm and knew that with his immortality had also come a curse. He was a bent and wrinkled old man, lost were his vigor and youth; he must endure an eternal old age.

Such was his despair and rage that the few servants remaining to him soon fled. He had not been a kind master, but there were those who needed bread more than compassion so had been willing to overlook this minor flaw in his character, but his changed appearance and ensuing wrath were too much for even these desperate creatures. So he was left alone in the great, aging castle with winter coming on and old age suddenly thrust upon him. He laughed bitterly and turned back into the keep.

Odette finally came to the end of the river where it rushed headlong into the sea. She took wing before the rival forces of tide and stream clashed and glanced about her for a place to land. It was a grim land of stony ground, iron sea, and lowering sky with a hulking castle staring forlornly upon it all. Ungainly on land but curious for the first time in months she felt the first stirrings of something besides despair; she landed in the courtyard of the seemingly abandoned ruin. She glanced about with all the impertinence of the uninvited guest too dull to know the aggravation they have caused their unwitting host. There were some signs of recent habitation, but no one seemed to be about until a hunched old man emerged from a small alcove with desire burning in his eyes. The swan drew back, spread her wings, and hissed at the intruder who suddenly stayed his approach and studied the creature momentarily before falling to his knees with a grievous cry, the knife he had been clutching fell unheeded to the ground. The swan was too astonished to flee, but rather cocked her head and studied the miserable creature before her; he sounded as dejected as she felt, his anguished cry a startling echo of her own morose song.

Not knowing exactly why, she folded her wings and waddled over to the wretched man, who lay sobbing on the paving stones, and rubbed her cheek against his. He reached up, almost mechanically, and cupped her feathered cheek with his hand, weeping all the more. His misery stirred the uneasy echoes in her own soul and soon they were both keening together in an unearthly chorus. Exhausted with grief, the pair at last studied one another, each strangely content in the company of the other. The man shakily stood and looked upon the peculiar bird with a grim smile, "do you know how close you came to death lass? That vile witch would have loved nothing more than to add murder to my wretchedness! But I saw such a look of despair in your eyes as never dwelt in those of a foolish fowl that I knew you must be something more. She that laid this curse upon me said I could be free of it if only I'd bathe in swan's blood. Ha, swan's blood! There has never been a swan in these parts since my forefathers built this castle five generations ago. What is your own sad tale? Are you a victim of this heartless sorceress as well?"

The swan whistled in agitation and flapped her wings emphatically. The man smiled wryly, "I should have guessed as much. I was once a young knight, if you can believe it, but she appeared and offered me life unending and I like a fool asked no questions. I have life unending all right, but also became an old man and am ever cursed to be. I suppose the same is your plight, save you are cursed to go about in feathers?" The swan moaned her agreement and the man nodded, but a weak smile tinged his lips, "well, you can stay here if you'd like. I'm all alone else and it seems you are too. Neither of us may be much in ourselves, but it is better than nothing." The swan keened in interest, as if to say, 'we have nothing to lose.'

So it was that the bizarre pair passed the winter together and at last found solace from their grief and loneliness. Though the swan could not talk, she found ways to make her intentions known and soon they could communicate, if roughly. The castle was well stocked for winter but the man knew little of the domestic arts; the swan was a good housekeeper but had no hands, thus they were forced to rely on one another to accomplish all those daily tasks that went into making life livable, and in so doing, each was severely put to the test, for neither had been either very patient or forgiving in their previous lives. But such had been the ache and grief and horror of this new existence that they were loath to part with one another, strange as such companions were, it was far better than the aching loneliness each had previously known. So it was they worked and labored together, even learning to laugh at their little mistakes and the awkward dance that was often life. The man had to lay aside his pride and learn to do tasks he had previously thought beneath him; the lady could no longer rely upon her own skills and ingenuity and had to depend upon another for her succor.

So it was that spring returned to utterly change the face of that grim land, so too did she find the once miserable pair likewise transformed. As the merry sun returned, the wind no longer held a bitter chill, and a creeping green shadow swept over the land, so too had warmth and joy crept back into the hearts of an aged man and his avian chatelaine. The spring hills resounded with his hearty laugh and her gay whistles as they left the grim keep to explore the verdant countryside. Of an evening they would sit by the fire and he would read or tell some tale, perhaps an adventure of his own or one of the stories passed down from his illustrious forebears. On one such night, a tremulous knock sounded upon the kitchen door. The swan keened in wonder, for never had she seen or heard of another human person in the months of her residence there, for word had spread of the cursed castle and its grim master so none ventured thither. The ancient man shakily grasped an old sword that was never far from his side and went to investigate this summons.

The sea writhed in the grip of a furious spring storm and rain and thunder shattered the usual peace of the night. Upon the kitchen step, shivering in the wet and black of night, stooped an old woman garbed in rags. The man smiled ruefully as he hurriedly tossed aside the sword to help the aged dame into the relative comfort of the keep. The swan stood on a table and snaked her neck around the corner, watching in interest and dread. She whistled in dismay to see it was a needy guest and that she was unprepared; Odette hastened from the room to make ready. Six months previous, the poor beggar would have been turned out with nothing more than a bread crust if she were fortunate or a scolding if she were not, but now she was treated as if she were a visiting monarch, for each remembered their own days of bitterness and could not stand to see one of their fellow men in similar straits so did all they could to alleviate her misery. She soon found herself clad in dry and comfortable clothing, sitting before the fire, and eating the very same meal of which her hosts partook. Her eyes twinkled in secret joy as she broke bread with her strange companions.

They wished greatly to speak with their guest, but it was obvious she was weary from her journey and they must content themselves with waiting for the morrow. She gratefully accepted a sleeping place in one of the many empty rooms the castle boasted, far better accommodations than the stable or under a hedge which might otherwise fall to one of her lot. But they were not to speak with the dear woman in the morning, for she had vanished, but they were not left long alone to ponder this strange occurrence, for another visitor demanded their attention. The sun shone merrily upon the dripping world, washed fresh by the previous night's storm and upon their doorstep stood a most curious fellow. Said he, with perplexity in his voice, "I was bidden by a great and noble lady to hasten hither that I might unite a lord and lady in marriage."

The aged knight stared in wonder at the wandering monk that stood outside his door, but quickly hastened him inside and invited him to join them at breakfast. The man stared from the ancient lord to the great bird and back in even greater astonishment and the knight could not but laugh, "your own perplexity is no greater than my own. Who was this strange lady of your acquaintance? As you can see, there are none here save a man too old for such concerns and a bird too wise for her kind."

The brown robed man shook his head but with a wan smile, hinting at a hidden sense of humor, said, "I know her not, but she wakened me from a sound sleep in the middle of the night and ordered me to this place. She was the most beautiful creature I have ever gazed upon and I dared not disbelieve nor disobey such a summons."

Said the man grimly, "was there aught of cruelty, scorn, or deceit about her?"

The cleric shook his head adamantly, "nay lord, she was all joy, mirth, and compassion."

The knight stroked his jaw in thought while the swan whistled a query. Slowly the aged man smiled and turned to the feathered lass, said he with a rueful laugh, "will you have me lady?" She whistled her amused affirmation and the peculiar pair stood before the friar who was a little aghast at the idea. Said the knight solemnly, "fear not that this be an unholy union sir, for we are both of us children of men and should be of a young and joyous age, but alas you see us in other guise. Perhaps there is a cure in the union? If not, I shall still have the lady to wife, even if she wears feathers." The priest nodded sadly but cheered slightly as he proceeded to hear their vows. As he finished the ceremony, the sun's light shining gaily down from a high window suddenly intensified to a blinding brilliance and all hid their eyes. When they could again see, man and maid stood before the priest as ever they were wont to be, save with a warmth and wisdom neither had possessed ere their strange adventures. They all laughed for very joy, each embracing the others.

Again came a knocking upon the kitchen door, but this time there was no hesitancy or timidity, but rather an exuberant joy, after which the door burst asunder and the vibrant lady of the monk's brief acquaintance stood in the doorway like sunshine incarnate. The lord and lady of the keep recognized her immediately as their guest of the previous night, though as changed in visage as the weather between their two meetings. Said she with delight, "well met, I say! Well met indeed! Now let us to the wedding feast while I tell you all the tale." They exchanged startled but eager looks and accompanied the lady into the long unused banquet hall where an extravagant feast awaited them. While they dined, she spoke thus, "I chanced upon my sister in my wanderings the other day and we sat for some time speaking of our adventures in the wide world. We are of rather opposite persuasions, she and I, but as sisters we must occasionally feign interest in one another and we share a common profession so there is also that to consider. She takes great joy in causing mortal men much heartache and grief, in tricking them into accepting a curse and laughing at their misery thereafter.

She especially enjoys trapping those of a proud and independent mien, as their misery is the most acute when they realize how utterly wretched they have become. She laughingly told of such an accursed pair, having intended the one to kill the other, but somehow they had found companionship in their wretchedness and pity one for the other. She laughed all the more at the strange situation that would be theirs until mornings ceased altogether. So she went on her way laughing while I hastened to this place to see if there might not be some cure to the curse. I was the poor beggar upon your doorstep last night and you treated me with all the kindness you would a queen, so I knew there was hope for your plight. Had you been still wretched and small of heart, not all the magic in the world could have freed you from your bondage, for though your outward appearance might be restored, your hearts would still have been as small and miserable as ever and so would you remain, for it is not in my power to lift such a curse. But with that blight already lifted from your souls, it was a small matter to restore your physical forms. Now use your newfound love to make this stony land bloom and flourish, too long has it lain fallow under a winter of scorn and pride."

The newly wedded pair exchanged a joyous and eager smile and soon enlisted the monk in their conspiracy of joy. Word soon spread of the lifted curse and the far more astonishing change wrought in the once grim lord. It was not long before summer invaded many hearts thereabouts that had long lay dead and cold, as if in winter's grasp. And so did that land flourish and prosper in the sixth generation as it had not done in the five before it. The cruel sorceress muttered under her breath about meddling sisters, but did not interfere as there were plenty of other men yet in the world to be made aware of their own misery, for they were already wretched at heart, she simply had the talent of bringing it to the fore.

Dickery, dickery, dare,

The pig flew up in the air;

The man in brown soon brought him down,

Dickery, dickery, dare.

~Nursery Rhyme~

When Pigs Fly

It is unwise to be hasty, especially in the habit of doing good deeds, as this story will show. There once was a man in brown, his name has been lost to song and story so we must know him only based upon the color of his garb on one particular day. We do not know from whence he came or whither he was going, but on this bright morning he was passing by a neat little farmyard when there arose such an outcry that he was forced to stop and give heed to what remarkable or dreadful event had just happened. He was quite astonished, giving a little cry of surprise himself, to see a well grown pig suddenly take wing, though it had no such appendage, but it was seemingly intent on soaring through the vast pastures of the sky. Not even pausing to consider what he was doing or how it might utterly alter his destiny, he climbed upon the stone fence along the road and leapt at the flying hog as it swept past. Being rather tall and athletic, he was just able to grasp the hock of the terrified swine, screaming for all it was worth at this uncanny turn of events. The pair crashed to earth and the farmer and his daughter came running over in relief and wonder, both trying to talk at once.

The farmer took hold of the hog, which still seemed intent on zipping off on another aerial adventure, and babbled something about the creature having been sold to a great and terrible man who would take the beast's disappearance amiss. He gratefully took the pig from the stranger, only to gape in astonishment as the man himself went flying out of sight the moment he lost his grip on the pig. The farmer, the pig, and the girl all exchanged a mystified look and muttered darkly about mischievous sorcerers, but quickly returned to their interrupted chores.

The now airborne man, however, could not simply return to his interrupted walk as he was completely at the mercy of whomever had apparently summoned the pig by this unnatural means. He shuddered to think what such a powerful magician would think when a man landed on the doorstep rather than the anticipated hog. But there was little he could do until that fateful moment so he contented himself in enjoying the thrill of the ride and the charming country over which he flew. As the sun reached its noon peak, a great and hideous castle loomed before him and a shudder shook his body, he knew thither lay his doom. He landed quite safely in some sort of kitchen yard enclosed by high stonewalls. A short, bearded fellow in rather rough clothes stood waiting for him, or rather the pig, and did not seem at all surprised to see a man in the beast's place. He only shook his head and said gruffly, "the Ogre will want to see you."

"Ogre?" gasped the man in brown, shakily trying his legs.

"Aye," said the bearded man, "he won't be happy you've interfered with his dinner."

"Dinner?" swallowed the man.

"Aye," said the fellow, "he has a grand feast planned for this very night, invited the entire populous hereabouts and that pig was a vital part of the entertainment. He won't be pleased. Come." The man sighed but followed his host as one condemned to the gallows might the hangman.

They traversed many a grim and murky corridor before they came to a dim, dank throne room in which a monstrous creature rather laired than sat. The servant made his bows and the hideous creature rumbled, "who dares disturb me?"

The servant said, "I was expecting a pig Sire, one that was legally bought and paid for. This fellow showed up instead, no doubt up to some mischief or other."

The monster thundered, "stolen my pig has he? Trying to embarrass me in front of the whole neighborhood no doubt? Well knave? What have you to say for yourself?"

The man quivered, "please sir, it was all a mistake, a good intentioned mistake. I saw the pig go flying off and the farmer's concern so I thought to intercede. The pig remains with the farmer and I find myself here in its stead. I meant no harm."

The beast roared, "well whatever you intended, harm is what you did! Irrevocable harm! I will be a laughingstock! My banquet is ruined! What have you to say to that?"

The man bowed deeply in resignation then replied, "it appears I have erred and greatly offended you, Sire, if there is any recompense I can make, let it be so."

Malice and cruelty filled the monster's laughing reply, "what if I ordered that you take the place of the hog at tonight's feast?"

The man shuddered but said quietly, "I would say that is a grim fate indeed but I am at your mercy."

The ogre spat, "bah, I have no such failing as mercy, but just to spare myself from accusations of injustice I will offer you a chance of escape. Take your bow and go into the surrounding woods and fields, if you can bring back another creature in your stead, you shall go free, else you know your fate. You have one hour! Be gone!"

The man shuddered again but hastened after the grim servant who led him out into the bright and cheerful sunlight, which only made his recent audience seem even more a nightmare. He followed silently out into the fields about the castle and into the woods thereabouts, taking a bow and quiver of arrows from the silent servant. Finally realizing himself free, he thought for a moment of running away but the monster would certainly be angered and insulted enough to pursue and put him to an even worse end than that which already awaited him. He could not strike out against the servant, he was only doing his master's bidding; he was not the true villain. He sighed heavily, nocked an arrow, and trudged wearily forwards, looking for signs of an acceptable replacement. The servant followed silently after.

His wandering soon brought him out into a broad meadow where he was surprised to find a small party of richly clad young men and their servants busy with several deer and a young boar, apparently having had some success in their hunting. Said the man eagerly, "sirs, could I have but the least of your quarry? It would truly spare my life!"

The young lords looked over the ragged fellow and his aged companion, exchanged a scornful look, and then laughed contemptuously. One saying, "be gone beggar! You will have none of our spoil, go fetch your own. We care little for the plight of such wretches who undoubtedly brought their sorrow rightfully upon their own heads."

"But...!" cried the man but the servants left their tasks and drove the strangers away with many and vicious blows. The dejected man fled into the woods and nearly tripped over an old beggar, deaf and lame. The poor wretch flinched back in terror and the man quickly tried to reassure him that there was naught to fear.

Said the servant thoughtfully, "my master bid you bring back a replacement, not specifying who or what. This poor wretch might suffice."

The man gave him an incredulous look but said only, "it was my own folly that got me into this mess and I alone shall pay what price I must. This poor fellow has certainly suffered enough in life, let me not add to his sorrows." He tossed the fellow all the coins he had on his person, ruefully thinking he no longer had a need for them. They turned away from the gratefully smiling beggar and continued on, the precious minutes nearly spent. They came again into a wide meadow, still having seen no sign of living game, but there were sheep aplenty grazing in that pleasant field.

A shepherdess approached with a curious smile on her beautiful young face and inquired, "what brings you to this forgotten field good sirs?"

The man asked in desperate hope, "can I have but the least of your sheep miss? Anything old or sick or lame will do; I will pay whatever price I must, for my very life depends upon it!"

A sneer marred her lovely face as she said scornfully, "thieves, no doubt! Be gone ere I fetch my father and the dogs! I will have no dealings with such scoundrels!"

"It is time to return," said the servant quietly, "unless you can make other arrangements quickly. The girl is quite alone; her sheep are vulnerable at the moment."

The girl squawked in indignation and the man said, turning back towards the grim castle, "I will not stoop to theft. Let us be done with this farce, I have failed and will face my doom." The servant nodded grimly and led the man back to the hulking, ugly castle. The girl watched them go with a spiteful frown.

They returned to the kitchen courtyard and the man set down his bow against one of the walls. As he turned back towards the servant, he saw the door through which they had come was wide open and the servant stood aside, saying, "flee if you will, here is your last chance."

The man shook his head, "what grim fate would await you should your master find me gone? I will not imperil your life to save my own. Let things be as they must."

The servant closed the door with dreadful finality and said, "then it is time you were dressed for dinner." The man nodded glumly and followed the servant down a grim stair into the dank depths of the castle.

It was a sumptuous feast and the beautiful castle was elaborately decorated for the occasion. All of the locals had been invited, even the deaf beggar, and many had come from distant lands to attend, for the aging and childless King was this night to select his heir from amongst them. There was much excited chatter and barely contained eagerness as each delightful course was finished, only to be followed by one even better. At last, when no one could possibly eat another bite or contain their curiosity any longer, a short, bearded herald in bright livery announced that the moment of decision had come. The richly robed King stood forth, leaning heavily on his cane, he said, "here then is my heir, he has proved himself time and again to be a man of the greatest courage and integrity."

All eyes turned to the back of the room towards which the King had grandly gestured, and a man came forth, though no longer clad all in brown, but certainly no less the hero of this strange tale. The noble huntsmen and the shepherdess did not recognize him, but the lame beggar began to clap for all he was worth and the others soon joined him, for here was their new King. There had never been an ogre and the great castle was far from dank and hideous, all had been a ruse to test the heart of the man in brown. The short, bearded fellow was glad indeed to dress him in scarlet and purple. And to think it had all started with a flying pig.

" _One misty, moisty, morning,_

When cloudy was the weather,"

A little wind went laughing by

And danced among the heather.

I envy me, that little wind,

That lingers in the clover,

Though he chats with common trees,

He's seen the whole world over.

He's howled in storm o'er foreign seas,

And set far fields a'dancing;

Rippled in the fairy's brook,

Joined unicorns in prancing.

Like a ghost, forsook, forgot,

On lonely shores went wailing;

In desert cold, under moon,

He sends the clouds a'sailing.

He moans forlorn against the pane,

And at last, I must ponder,

Fox has hole and bird a nest,

But wind must ever wander.

~First two lines transplanted from a Nursery Rhyme~

A Lady Unknown

"I will avert this curse, witch," vowed Bayard grimly, before turning deadly eyes upon his elder brother, and finishing coldly, "and I will return and see that your treachery comes to naught." He turned sharply on his heel and stalked out of the room.

The crown prince turned worried eyes to the comely woman who remained at his side, smiling in vast amusement, said she, "I would not worry about him my Lord. My spells are not so easily thwarted and my words shall come to pass. Tomorrow shall be his last day to walk a mortal man under the sun." Her eyes grew hungry and her smile deepened as she purred, "now what of our bargain?"

The young man swallowed nervously but said resolutely, "we shall be married at once and you will be Queen, just as we agreed. But what of my father the King?"

Her smile grew evil, "leave him to me." An involuntary shiver ran down the prince's spine and he wondered if he had the nerve to go through with this coup after all, but it was too late to turn back now; who knew what vile hex she would lay upon him if he balked? He offered her his arm and guided her out of the room.

Bayard had no sooner shut the door than he broke into a run towards the stables, he would find a way to break the curse that had been laid upon him and return before any more fell deeds could befall his family and Kingdom. A less prudent man might have lashed out at brother and sorceress alike, once their treachery had been revealed, but Bayard knew he was as helpless before this woman as a kitten before a mastiff. He felt it to his very soul that she would have done something far worse ere his sword had cleared the scabbard and thus ended all argument, permanently, but now he had a chance, slim though it be, to act against her and his treacherous brother. But how? His mind raced more quickly than his feet, seeking an answer, but all he could think to do was flee the castle and hope some answer presented itself once he was free of all pursuit. He came to a dead stop the moment he entered the shadowy confines of the Royal Stable and smiled to see two horses already saddled and waiting.

He opened his mouth to ask Peter, his faithful friend and servant who was adjusting one last buckle on the saddlebags, how he had known but the man answered, ere the words left his lips, "I saw your brother and that beautiful but foul feeling woman talking secretively in the courtyard not long ago and knew something was dreadfully amiss Sire. I assumed you might need to make a quick escape. All is ready for a journey of some days, Highness, if that is your need or desire."

He bowed respectfully but failed to completely hide his triumphant smile at foreseeing his master's needs. The boy would have hugged the man, had he time, but instead he smiled gratefully even as he swung into his saddle, "you must teach me this uncanny skill of foresight you seem to have on occasion."

The old servant climbed into his saddle and replied as they trotted out of the stableyard, "I fear it is a thing one either has or has not, it cannot be taught. What is our road?"

The boy shook his head, "we must get away from here and under cover as soon as possible, I do not trust that they are finished with me, curse or no."

Peter turned worriedly to his young master, "curse?"

The boy laid his heels into his horse's flanks, urging the beast to a gallop, though whether out of haste or to avoid the question, Peter knew not, but followed silently after his master. Only when they were free of the castle and the city and safely beneath the shade of the surrounding forest, did Bayard respond, "you yourself said she was a foul feeling woman, and no truer words have ever been spoken. She is a veritable witch, despite her fair facade and has promised that tomorrow shall be my last mortal day under the sun. I promised in return, to break the curse and avenge their treachery." Peter was both devastated and intrigued by the boy's words, had he a way to break the spell? Bayard saw the eager light in the man's grim eyes and shook his head sadly, "nay dear friend, I currently know not how to avert my doom, but I must if the Kingdom is not to fall into their vile hands."

Peter let out a heavy sigh, "then let us to the Wildwood my lad, if ever there were a place rife with Magic, it is the Wood, and now perhaps it is our only hope though most men deem it suicide to venture thither." The boy nodded his agreement and turned his horse towards the supposedly haunted wood on the Eastern borders of the Kingdom.

They pushed the horses hard, for the boy's allotted time was short, and by evening they had reached the borders of that legendary forest. They dismounted and led the huffing creatures into the twilight beneath the trees, following the sound of babbling water, as man and beast were alike desperate for a drink. They walked on as the night deepened, thinking it strange that they neither stumbled nor lost their way in the darkening wood, for as the sound of the water grew stronger, so too did a gentle and cool radiance fill the forest about them with ample light to see, as if the yet hidden moon stood high and full overhead. They entered a clearing in which stood a fountain, from whence came the light and the water's song, but before they dared drink, a woman of beauty and bearing like unto babbling water in the moonlight, stood forth and said, "welcome wanderers, drink not of the fountain, save at your own peril. Instead, refresh yourselves with all that I shall freely provide." The thirsty and skittish men exchanged a curious look, sensing this vision before them carried none of the threat and evil that hung about the sorceress that had sparked this foolish adventure.

The young prince stepped forward, bowed, and said courteously, "we thank you for your kindness, my Lady. We have ridden long and far this day and are in desperate need of refreshment and our beasts more so." She smiled at his polite words and motioned towards the far side of the clearing where a delightful repast lay, as if awaiting their coming, for both man and beast. The men tended to their spent horses before slaking their own thirst. "Will you not join us?" asked Bayard as he and Peter sat upon the grass and began to eat.

She sat nearby and laughed like a happy girl, "nay lord, but I shall attend you as you sup, if that is your wish."

They dug in heartily and only after the edge was taken off their hunger did Bayard slow enough to begin conversation in earnest with their gracious host, said he, "what is the danger in the fountain lady?"

She smiled impishly and said, "that I will not tell you until the dawning, sir. Tonight you will sleep beside it and if you can keep from succumbing to its sweet song, in the morning you will find it worth your while." So they ate and drank and felt their hearts at last at ease, despite the horrors and rigors of the day. Bayard almost forgot the curse that lay upon him, but before he could ask their fair host if she knew aught of such things, she stood quite suddenly and said, "nay lord, I cannot answer you as you would wish. If there is an answer, it does not lie with me. Perhaps there is one wiser to aid you deeper in the Wood, but for tonight, let your heart find rest in what I can offer." She bid them goodnight and walked primly away.

Peter swallowed a last mouthful with relish and then said wonderingly, "this is a different sort of magic altogether, and one I am glad to have encountered. I hope it bodes well for the rest of our journey."

Bayard nodded his agreement, staring off into the woods where that lovely creature had vanished. The light from the fountain dimmed slightly as they settled down to sleep, as if it knew the glare might keep them awake, but its song soon soothed them into a dreamless slumber. They were wakened at first light by the songs of innumerable birds in the trees above them. The Lady of the Fountain greeted them warmly as they began to stir and offered them a breakfast as wonderful as supper had been. She smiled triumphantly, "you did not touch the fountain or the water therein. You were not even tempted?"

Bayard snorted in amusement, "nay lady, your provender was filling enough to heart and body, what more could we desire?"

Peter added under his breath, "we have had our fill of magic of late and would not gladly entangle ourselves in more." Her eyes laughed as they met his and he knew she had heard him. He bowed stiffly before turning away in embarrassment.

They did justice to her provisions and she watched them joyously. Supper had eased their troubled hearts and calmed their agitated spirits. Breakfast filled them with a desire to be on their way on such a lovely morning. Even the horses seemed fresh from the stable. Said she as they made ready to ride, "take this my lord, perhaps it will aid you on your way." She handed him a smooth stone that one might easily mistake for ice, save that it was only cool to the touch not freezing. She continued, "whenever you need water, simply cast this stone into a ditch, gully, or hole and it will fill with water. Take it as your reward for avoiding the temptations of the fountain."

He asked wonderingly, "and what is the danger therein?"

Her impish smile returned, "there is nothing of virtue or vice about the fountain or the water therein. When I said that one drank it at their own peril, the peril of which I spoke was that of revealing an utter lack of self-control and patience, of showing one's complete lack of manners and propriety."

Bayard smiled, "I am glad you find me at least civilized, my Lady." He said with a sigh, as his face fell, "you can give us no clue to this riddle?"

She shook her head sadly, "nay lord, I can only refresh and encourage weary travelers upon their way. But take heart, the Wood is wide and broad, filled with wonders and dangers aplenty. You will find what you seek, or rather what you need."

They bid her a warm farewell and continued on their way. The fountain's song had barely ceased in their ears when the trees ended suddenly and a narrow and desolate waste opened before them. They could see the trees, green and healthy, on the far side of the clearing, but what should have been a lush and rolling meadow was sere and empty of any growing thing. A few beasts, little more than walking skeletons, wandered listlessly about the clearing, their heads down and paying no heed to the intruders. A ruined farmstead stood at one end of the waste and a family in as poor condition as their livestock sat or stood dejectedly in the midst of it. When the folk did not bother to leave their misery to greet the strangers, Bayard turned his horse towards the crumbling farmyard. Only when he was nearly atop them, did they look up from their dejection.

The man stood, bowed his skull-like head to the young man, and said miserably, "you would be wise to ride on my lord, for a curse hangs heavy upon us."

Bayard smiled grimly, "I will not ride on until I have heard your tale of woe, my good man."

The man cheered slightly, if only in eagerness to share his woes with another, said he, "three days ago, a sorceress passed this way and cursed our once prosperous farm. No harm or insult did we give her, but it seems merely for the joy of our misery did she treat us thus. There was once a bright and happy stream that wound through the midst of the meadow, but with a word she dried it up and then said no water or rain would ever slake our thirst save that of the vanished beck. Neither would death be permitted to give relief in its turn."

Bayard's grim smile deepened, "I believe I know this very witch and have run afoul of her myself. I have yet to find an answer to the hex she has laid upon me but I can perhaps remedy some of her mischief." He took the Lady's stone out of his pocket and cast it into the dry creek bed. In moments, the stream was running fast and clear once more, the withered grass and crops were renewed, the miserable stock was revived, the crumbling homestead was restored, and the entire family was immediately hale and hearty as they had been only a few days prior.

The delighted farmer said in astonishment, "what can we do to repay your kindness, my lord?"

Bayard shook his head sadly, "if only you could do for me as easily as I have done for you, but alas it cannot be, so go on with your lives in peace and joy and repay what kindness you can to other wayfarers who pass this way." The man bowed his head in thanks and their benefactor soon trotted out of sight, but the tale lived on as long as the man's descendants had breath to tell it.

The sun was setting as they emerged once more from the Wildwood and came to the grassy banks of a river deep and slow. They had encountered nothing else that day that might not be seen in any forest of the world. It had been a pleasant day, if it were to be his last, but they had found no answers. Bayard drew rein beside the stream and dismounted, the ever-faithful Peter did likewise. There was a look of resignation and acceptance in the boy's eyes, as he said to the servant, "I do not know what this night shall hold my friend, whether it shall simply be death or something worse but ere the morning comes, I advise you ride on and leave me to my fate lest it endanger you in some way."

Peter shook his head and nearly begged, "nay lord, I shall remain until whatever is to come has passed." Bayard sighed at the man's stubbornness but was relieved that he would not have to face the unknown terrors alone. They let the horses drink and then turned them loose to crop upon the grass beside the river, there was no sense in going further as the light was failing and there was no amicable fountain to light their way. Here would they await whatever was to come.

As he sat upon the bank under the light of a young moon, enthralled by the murmur of the water and the crickets' song, Bayard came fully awake as an irregular movement in the water caught his eye. A moment later, the creature that had caused the erratic ripple in the otherwise quiet flow surfaced and drew near the bank. Bayard smiled in wonder, it appeared to be a comely young maiden who had the uncanny ability to live underwater. She returned his smile and said without introduction or preamble, "I have heard of your plight sir, and will offer what counsel I might."

He cocked his head and frowned slightly, "how is it you know of my problems, maid?"

Her smile widened in bemusement, "news of such things travels fast in an enchanted forest, but I am no daughter of men, my lord, but rather of the watersprites, as such I know many of the folk who are quite foreign to the mind of mortal man, but perhaps therein lies your rescue. You cannot wander abroad under the sun a mortal man come the morrow, or so the tale goes." She looked a question at him, he nodded, too curious to speak. She continued, "then when the sun rises you must not be found a mortal man." He smiled at her as one who is grateful for your attempt at help but who knows nothing can avail. She laughed outright and said, "I do not speak in vain, lord. If you will agree to my offer, you will be free of your curse."

His skeptical look became all eagerness, as she continued, "there is a worthy lady of my acquaintance, a truly dear friend, who is in want of a husband and has asked if I might not keep an eye out for such a one. Upon entering this engagement you will be granted temporary immortality, thus thwarting the curse laid upon you. Either of you can end the betrothal at any moment before you are wed, but the moment you are married, the arrangement is permanent. Of course if you or she chooses to renege, the curse will have its way with you, but you will not be forced to enter into a union that is utterly despicable to you. It will at least buy you time to rescue your Kingdom from the clutches of that vile sorceress."

Bayard stared at the water nymph in wonder; it was a strange bargain but better than death. He asked quietly, "what sort of creature is your lady friend?"

The water maiden laughed like a little brook, "that you will not learn until after you are wed and have irrevocably joined yourself to her race."

His eyes narrowed, "are there no worthy fellows amongst her own kind that might not serve her thus?"

The maiden laughed again, "none that suite her, thus she is willing to look beyond her own people for a husband. Will you do it?"

A wild gleam sparkled in his eyes, "what have I to lose? Very well, the bargain is struck."

The sprite vanished for a moment beneath the river's swirl and reemerged with a glittering ring of silver in her hand. Bayard extended his hand and she placed the ring on his finger. "Now," said she, "return to your home and do what you must, but meet your betrothed by the Lady's Fountain in four days at eventide. Remember, old age and sickness are now held at bay, as is your curse, but you can still die by accident or violence. To end the engagement, simply remove the ring or she may ask its return if she finds you not to her liking. Fare thee well." She vanished into the river's depths and did not reappear.

Peter had been sitting higher up on the bank watching the exchange and stared at his master in wonder, but a wan smile graced his lips, "have you an answer my lord?"

Bayard smiled grimly, "an answer but also a riddle, perhaps I am in deeper trouble than when the day began."

"Perhaps," said the older man, "or perhaps not. Shall we ride home?"

"Certainly," said the boy, gaining his feet, "I only have a few days to put my affairs in order and who knows what that witch has been up to in the interim."

They caught and saddled the horses and were soon enough on their way, the light of the moon giving enough light to see while in the open, but once they entered the forest, Peter could see nothing at all and he cried out, "is this wise lord?"

Bayard answered back with a laugh of wonder, "I can see quite well, just let your horse have his head and I will lead us out."

Peter said in nervous mirth, "have you another of those rings for me? They seem to be quite handy upon occasion."

Bayard quietly replied, "we shall see if you feel the same once the full cost is known."

"Aye lad," said Peter in dismay, "I had forgotten the price of such a bauble. Lead on, lad, lead on."

They continued on in silence and came to the Lady's Fountain at daybreak. She met them there and gladly offered them refreshment for both body and soul, man and beast. She listened to their tale with joy as they ate, and then said as they returned to their saddles, "do not despair my lord, the waterfolk do not befriend anyone who is not well worth knowing, your lady shall be worthy indeed else the nymph would not esteem her in the least." The lady's words did much to bolster his courage as they rode off into the waxing day.

They reached the castle as the sun was setting, grateful that the lady's provender proved as good or better than a night's rest, for tonight they must act rather than sleep, for the Prince and his vile lady would be married this very evening and the festivities surrounding their nuptials would be the best and only time for the renegades to infiltrate the castle and put an end to their treachery. The city gates were wide open and unguarded, for all were bidden to the marriage celebration whether they would or not. The town lay silent and empty, as if it were abandoned, as all were attending the festivities. They found but a single guardsman on duty at the castle gates, who hastened to them the moment they were recognized, said he, "come away out of sight my lord, for your brother and his new wife would have you both in chains if they could catch you." They stepped into a shadowed corner of the stableyard to hear what he might say while the noise of the wedding feast within filled the courtyard.

Said the estimable guardsman as they dismounted, "I challenged her ladyship at the gate on the morning she entered the keep, and I have not been in her favor since and am lucky to be alive I suppose, but so it is that I am left alone to ward the gates while all others are within at the wedding feast. The King has not left his bed since the day she came, he is supposedly ill but I doubt not that she has had a hand in the matter. Both of you are accused of the worst treachery and orders were given for your immediate arrest should either of you be found, but I think rather the treachery lies with the lady and her new husband. I am at your service, my lord."

Bayard smiled gratefully and said to both of his faithful friends, "I will attempt to end my brother's treachery this night, but little do I know how to accomplish my task."

"You'll have a difficult time indeed, lad, for the woman is a witch," said a grim voice. Bayard looked up in surprise, recognizing the voice and wondering from whence it came.

The guardsmen said disgustedly, as Bayard fully took in the scene before him, "this also is that woman's doing. Once the feasting is done, they thought to make merry in the courtyard with a great fire and use this so-called heretic for kindling."

"Not if I can help it," snarled Bayard angrily, as he drew his knife and cut loose the ropes binding the aging man to the stake in the midst of a great pile of wood.

The Sage stepped away from his appointed doom with a look of bewildered amusement and bowed to the young man, "I too am at your service Highness. I thank you for the rescue, but I think we all face deadly peril this night, so I will not yet thank you for my life until all is said and done."

Bayard faced the Sage and asked, "have you any idea how to best this witch?"

Said the sage thoughtfully, "a direct confrontation will only end in disaster. Stealth is our best weapon, but you cannot hope to sneak up behind her and stab her in the back without half the Kingdom noticing. Rather, let us see to your father and perhaps therein lies our hope."

The boy frowned in confusion, but as he wanted to rescue his father from the woman's influence, he did not argue. The guardsman was left to ward the gate and keep a watch in case any in league with the witch happened by; Peter donned the Sage's robes and took his place at the stake for the same reason. The Sage and Bayard snuck into the castle, garbed as servants, and made their way unseen to the room where the King lay abed. The room was dark and unwarded as they entered. The King lay asleep in his bed, but the Sage ignored him after a cursory examination to discover if he were still alive or perhaps under some spell. The Sage lit the candle by the bedside and examined the powdery substance he found in a bowl on the table there.

He smiled in grim understanding as he said, "your father will wake once he no longer receives a daily dose of this vile poison. A tiny amount causes sleep, a little more results in death. Here perhaps you have your answer."

Bayard took the small bowl in his hands and stared in disgust at the innocuous looking powder, saying grimly, "I suppose it is the only way, but I cannot help but deplore the use of such tactics."

The Sage shook his head grimly, "aye lad, it is the only way, underhanded and treacherous as it seems."

They snuck down to the kitchens, which were swarming with harried servants trying to keep the guests supplied with food and drink; they had no time or notice for anything not immediately pertaining to their current task. It was a simple matter to find the special pair of goblets that would be used by the newlyweds to toast their marriage, to dissolve a little of the toxic powder in each, and then to quietly withdraw. They returned to the courtyard, told all that they had seen and done, and after confiscating fresh horses from the stables, all four vanished quickly from the city before the tumult of confusion began after the newlyweds had drunk of their poisoned cups. The King wakened the next morning to find his Kingdom in chaos, but the sudden return of trusted and competent leadership soon put matters to rights, but none knew what had come of his missing son, Peter, the guardsman, or the Sage.

By the next evening, the exhausted party nearly collapsed by the Lady's Fountain, remaining awake only long enough to tend to their weary horses and take a light meal, before sleeping well into the next day. The Lady smiled warmly at Bayard as he wakened late the next morning, saying quietly, "well met my lord, I hope your errand was successful? You have returned well in time for your wedding, if such is still your desire."

Bayard smiled wryly, "yea lady, I have even brought my half of the wedding party." His face fell slightly, he sighed, and continued, "yes, my task was completed, but not in a manner which a man of valor is wont to boast upon."

She nodded in commiseration, "it is never easy to be judge and executioner, especially when it must be carried out through subterfuge and deception."

He lay his hand to his sword, "I have never regretted the killing of men in battle as this act now lies heavy on my heart."

She shook her head sadly, "in war you fight for what is thought to be a just cause and your foes have every chance of defending themselves."

He smiled weakly, "aye, I fear I have taken the coward's way out."

The sage had roused from his slumber and listened to the exchange with interest, adding at last, "nay Sire, your brother and his betrothed chose their own end when first they betrayed you and all the Kingdom. It was a regrettable end, yes, but so too would be the gallows."

Bayard stood and smiled grimly, "and happily I would not have to be the hangman. I know that it was all that could be done in the circumstances and will soon be at peace with my actions, but for a time it will gall me bitterly."

The rest of the party was beginning to stir and Bayard introduced Ondril the Sage and Garren, the faithful guard, to the Lady of the Fountain. Said she, "welcome dear and faithful friends. We shall have reason to celebrate indeed, for your beloved master will very soon wed a dear, sweet lady in this very place. While we wait for this blessed event, let each of you rest and recover from the tragedy of the last days and prepare yourselves for the joy that is to come."

Over the course of the day, she spoke quietly with each of the men, arranging their part in the festivities and seeing that they were properly clothed and coached in what they were to do. Great was their joy in one another's company and in the simple pleasures of food, music, rest, and conversation. The following day, Bayard asked if the farmer and his family might not attend the wedding. The Lady looked expectantly over his shoulder and smiled, the entire family had just arrived. There was much joy in the meeting and in anticipating what was to come, but never was a hint made as to what strange people the unknown lady might belong.

Finally, the sun sank on the appointed day, and Bayard's heart began to beat violently in hope and fear, wondering what the night would bring. The sun vanished beyond the rim of the world, the first bright stars dappled the fathomless ocean of the twilit sky, and the fountain bathed the wood in gentle light and the music of joyous water. The guests and participants stood about, arrayed in their borrowed splendor, as the bride and her party finally arrived. The Lady joined the water maiden as one of the bride's attendants, the Sage stood forth to perform the ceremony, while Peter and Garren attended the groom. The bride was hidden beneath a veil of gossamer material that might have been woven of moonlight, spider webs, and dew; her dress was of a similar material, but more opaque with thousands of tiny jewels twinkling in the light of star and fountain as she moved.

They met before the Sage, his eyes wide with wonder and fear, but though he could not see her face for the veil, he knew she smiled warmly at him and he felt his fears guttering out like a spent candle. His smile deepened and he nodded to the Sage. The ceremony was simple and sweet, and once the irrevocable words had been spoken, he lifted her veil, and for a moment was silent in astonishment; never had he seen such a beautiful creature. A slight gasp escaped the mortal men present as well, but pausing only for a moment, he bent his mouth to hers and kissed her.

Afterwards, the lady provided another splendid feast out of the seemingly unending bounty of goodness, and the company sat together and rejoiced in the happiness of their friends. The watersprite said to the bride with a laugh, "have I done well Aria?"

Aria looked joyously at her new husband, then blushingly looked at her wine cup, "you have indeed, my friend. I hope he feels the same?"

Bayard blushed in turn, but drew her close and smiled, "I do indeed!"

They talked and sang and listened to tales of the Wildwood until the grey light of dawn replaced the moonlit glow of the Fountain. The farmer and his family wished them all well and sleepily made their way home, needing to tend to neglected chores that would not wait. The water nymph kissed her friend on each cheek, bid farewell to each of the others, smiled impishly at the groom, bowed to the Lady, and vanished into the waters of the fountain. The Sage smiled deeply and asked of the Lady, "would it be thought amiss if I spent some time getting to know this Wood of yours? It seems an intriguing place."

She smiled in delight and said, "nay sir, as a Friend of the Lady of the Fountain, you are welcome to dwell here as long as you wish, assuming that you are no fell worker of evil or mischief." His smile deepened, if that were possible.

Garren looked rather awkward, digging his toe into the mossy ground, and said abruptly, "one of us had best return and tell the King all that has happened, Sire."

Bayard placed a calming hand on the anxious man's shoulder, "easy friend, you may stay or go to your liking, you are under no curse that requires you to abide."

He grinned foolishly, "thank you Sire, my family will be wondering what has come of me, as yours undoubtedly is. Can I tell the King you will visit him yourself in the days to come?"

Bayard looked to his lady and she nodded vigorously, with a sweet smile upon her lips. Said the former Prince, "fare you well my friend, until we meet again."

The man bowed deeply to them both, made his farewells to the Lady, then bade the Sage and Peter a hearty goodbye, giving the latter a sad, knowing look before he caught his horse and rode towards home. The Sage and Lady made their own farewells of the newly wedded couple and withdrew upon their own errands, leaving only Peter of the original party who stood somewhat aloof from the pair, his eyes red with ill-contained tears. Bayard drew him close, his own eyes threatening to spill over, saying warmly, "well old friend, what is the matter? Here we are, happy and alive, a thing which we could not have foreseen a week gone. Why the tears?"

Said the man gravely, "I am loath to part from thee lord, perhaps to death I must have let you go, but now I feel I have lost you all the same."

Understanding dawned upon him with a sudden dread of the utter strangeness of the world he was about to enter, a melancholy over the familiar world he was leaving behind. He turned to his lady and she seemed to know the horror sweeping through his once joyous heart, said she, "some day I hope that you will call my world your home, but I know it cannot be just yet, strange and terrifying as the new always is. Your man is faithful above anything I have ever seen amongst any kindred, mortal or fey. If he is willing, there is a way he might accompany us, but in so doing, he too must forsake the mortal sphere and all he once held dear."

Peter smiled sadly and went to one knee before this benevolent lady, saying quietly, "I have no family or kin to hold me here lady, the young lord has been in my keeping since he was barely old enough to leave his nurse and his welfare my only concern for many a year. The grateful King would see that my retirement was easy and quiet, therein would I soon die of grief, wondering how my lord fared in the wide world without me. Had he gone the way of all flesh, I would be comforted in knowing soon I would follow after. But this...to be sundered from him forever."

She smiled gently down upon the faithful man saying, "not forever, just until the sun and stars failed in their courses and the moon gave its light no more."

He smiled bemusedly up at her, "that would be long enough indeed for a mere man such as myself. I am yours, if you shall have me lady."

She bid him stand and said graciously, "your lord has bound himself irrevocably to my people by becoming my husband, you may do the same by swearing yourself to our service, but in your case the bond shall not be unbreakable. If ever you tire of your service to us, simply recant your vows and return to your own people."

A thoughtful look entered his eyes as he said, "and may I ask who or what are your people, lady?"

She laughed as a light breeze through young birches in the spring, "wise you are to inquire sir." She looked sweetly upon Bayard and continued, "your lord bound himself unquestioningly to me and mine. You will not be so benighted in your own decision. My people are known in your tongue as sylphs or spirits of the wind and air. You have met my cousin of the waters, we are like unto her folk, save in inhabiting the air. Have I frightened you from the side of your former lord?"

He nodded to himself and smiled, "nay lady, you are not a folk of evil mien, nothing else would keep me from your service."

She cautioned him, "do not say my folk are not so, we like men and all reasoning folk, may choose to serve the ill or the good, to be mean or great of heart. There are villains among the fey as there are among men. Well?"

He knelt before her and said, "lady, you have proven your own greatness of heart, let it be to me as you have spoken. I swear this day to serve you both, as long as you will have me."

She placed her hand upon his bowed head as if in blessing, and said, "rise, faithful heart, and be not parted from your master or his lady until it pleases thee."

As he rose, the breeze picked up and caught up leaves and petals in its airy grip, sending them dancing and spinning about the three who exchanged a wondering look and were themselves lost to sight as they joined in the dance of the rising wind.

"In the Beginning was the Word...and I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that would be written."

~The Gospel according to John~

Words, Words, Words...

With little orange feet, a comical waddling walk, slightly bulging eyes, a mournful voice, and arrayed in light grey feathers, thus equipped, did our heroine set forth on her adventures. She laughed wryly, even her mirth sounding woeful in the peculiar voice, who ever heard of such a heroine? In the tales, the heroes were always finding themselves cursed by truly respectable sorcerers who turned them into rocks, trees, monsters, old men, frogs, snakes, and any number of horrible or disgusting things. Of course those so cursed in the old stories always earned the wrath of their magical benefactors by accident of birth or interfering in some plot or in some other sensible way, not by accidentally stepping out in front of a speeding carriage and imperiling not only oneself but also the magician's haste and equipage. Perhaps the old wizard had done her a favor in saving her life but was she doomed to spend the rest of her days garbed as the most innocuous of all fowl? A dove, a gentle, none too bright, unexciting, dove. She was neither fearsome nor hideous or even interesting. What was to be done? She was about to be trampled by those thundering horses but magic and instinct had combined to save her life, finding herself instantly in avian form, her birdish brain had ordered her feathered form aloft before she even realized her danger. But then the carriage had continued on in its haste and left her gaping after like the silly bird she was. Putting her wings to use, she pursued the coach and its occupant, hoping he might reverse the curse that now lay upon her.

She pondered these things as she flapped along, such hexes were always laid upon royal personalities or those of great virtue or wisdom or valor or destiny. She was a poor farmer's daughter of neither great virtue nor vice, unless a tendency to daydream could be counted as such, which had thus resulted in this travesty. Night was beginning to fall and she felt a great urge to seek out some hidden covert of the woods and tuck her head beneath her wing. She fought this strange instinct and hastened on after the lumbering carriage, whose horses were showing signs of the day's haste. At last it pulled up before a small inn and its occupant disembarked and entered the inn. The dove blinked, this fell sorcerer seemed to be a rather plain looking, slouching fellow who was very shabbily dressed. She flew in the open door after him and perched among the rafters of the common room, to better study her prey. He made his request of the serving girl and sat himself down beside the fire. He ate and then went to bed, as if he were nothing more than a tired traveler. The dove escaped out an open window and found the man's carriage in the stableyard, intent on finding some place to secret herself within that she might confront the man on the morrow about her perplexing fate. At last, instinct could take over and she tucked her head peaceably beneath her wing.

She wakened early, as most birds do, and glanced hastily about, hoping it had all been a dream, but alas, she found herself unconsciously preening her feathers with an all too authentic beak for it to be anything but real. Finished with her morning grooming, she made sure her hiding place was secure and then impatiently awaited the wizard. Said magician soon gained his accustomed seat and the vehicle quickly rattled off. Once well on their way, again rushing off recklessly down the road, the dove emerged from her hidey hole and fluttered upon the vacant seat across from the mage. She blinked foolishly at him and he blinked just as foolishly at her. There seemed to be no recognition or understanding in the man's eyes. She had thought to find cunning and something a little uncanny in those eyes, but they were as guileless and insipid as those of any milk cow. She sighed and ruffled her feathers in frustration, who was this boy and where was the vile wizard that had laid this curse upon her? The boy stared at the bird with as little understanding and finally asked in hesitation, "what is all this about?"

The bird blinked in surprise, "all what?"

The boy stared in disbelief but not at the talking fowl but rather at its ignorance, "why this mad haste? Why the cryptic instructions? Where are we going? Why me?"

The dove cooed a mournful laugh, "I am afraid you have mistaken me for someone else. I was going to ask you questions of a similar nature. Come, tell me your own strange tale and I shall tell you mine."

The boy said, "this monstrous carriage pulled up into my village a few days ago and the coachman told me I had best get in. It then thundered off as if bandits were pursuing it and only stopped as darkness fell. The footman told me to go into the inn, order supper, and sleep the night. Such have I done for three days and never a word will either of my companions say to me than that I must either get in or go rest and sup!"

The dove told her own tale and then they stared at each other, neither having more of an answer but each glad for at least one companion on such an adventure. Said the boy at last, "I suppose there is nothing to do but get to journey's end and see what awaits us there."

"I suppose," sighed the dove.

After that, neither seemed much inclined to talk, each completely caught up in their own uneasy thoughts and what might lie at journey's end. They rattled on for three more days, each night alighting at a wayside inn for supper and sleep and then onwards, ever onwards, come morning. The boy took to saving some of his bread each night for the dove while she spent the entire journey in the coach. On the fourth day of their journey together, the forest without took on a decidedly darker feeling and appearance. The wind moaned disconsolately, dull grey clouds lowered menacingly, and the temperature plummeted while a miserable drizzle began to fall. The trees might have been glowering old men, crooked and bent, darkly cloaked, and huddling along the roadside to glare repugnantly as the impudent coach drove past. The road became rutted, twisted, and barely wide enough to allow passage of the carriage; the very air seemed to tingle with menace and dread. The boy sighed, "my only consolation is that we are not forced to ride atop the vehicle in such weather or amongst such a wood." The dove fluffed her feathers in dismay and cooed her agreement.

As twilight darkened the perpetual gloom into complete blackness, the coach at last rattled to a stop and the door was thrown open. The coachman and footman stood on either side of the opening and glared at their passengers. The boy shuddered but silently descended from the coach and motioned for the dove to perch upon his shoulder. The moment he was out of the vehicle, both men hurried back to their posts and the carriage rattled off with all haste, leaving the boy and dove to exchange another uneasy look. With nothing to do but stand perpetually in the grim night or move forward and see what awaited them, the lad took a step and then another. After an interminable journey through the sodden night along a barely discernable path, at last a great black shadow loomed out of the night before them. After a few moments, they realized it was a crumbling castle of black stone, as dark and grim as the forest in which it huddled. They exchanged another meaningful look and the boy entered the gaping gates. Not a torch nor a flicker of fire disturbed the gloom. They explored the sodden courtyard and collapsed stable but found nothing to either greet or alarm them. Shaking his head, the lad made for a small side door in the castle proper and turned the groaning handle which sounded ominously loud in the otherwise tomblike silence. He shuddered and entered the Keep.

Both blinked in utter astonishment, for they had expected a dark corridor filled with dankness, fungi, and all sorts of hideous things crouching among the shadows, or perhaps even instant death or an abandoned and crumbling room, not a snug little library stuffed to overflowing with books with a crackling fire upon the hearth, a smug cat upon the rug, and a birdlike little man with wispy gray hair and half-moon spectacles smiling at them from a faded armchair. "You are come at last then," chirped the man, "very good, but I fear you have just missed tea, a pity that, but perhaps we can have an early supper."

Feeling something about to shift within her, the dove fluttered quickly to the floor and the next moment stood a rumpled peasant girl as ever she had been. Said she in complete wonder, "sir, who are you and why are we here?"

The man laughed and settled more deeply into his chair, his hands on his stomach, "you lady, I hope shall keep house for us while your flummoxed companion here is to be my apprentice."

The boy stuttered, "apprentice? Apprentice what? Sorcerer?"

The man laughed, "do not be silly lad, I go in for none of that vile magic stuff though there are enchantments enough surrounding us, it is none of my doing. Rather, you shall learn what it is to be The Keeper of the Library."

The boy gaped, "which Library?"

The man sighed in the long suffering of fools, "The Library." The pair stared at him blankly and he continued, "do you children know nothing about lore, legend, myth, or history?" They continued on agape and he resumed, "apparently not. This is The Library, the place where all of the wisdom of the ages before and yet to come resides. There is not a bad sonnet spouted by an illiterate peasant to his beloved that does not make it into the collection. It is here that heroes, wizards, kings, sages, and all seekers of knowledge and truth eventually come and here that they find their answers. We are the gatekeepers of that knowledge."

The girl frowned, "why such theatrics to bring us to this place? Why not just ask about and hire a sensible lad and servant girl as other people would?"

The man laughed heartily, "this is The Library lass, it does as it pleases and we are merely here to accomplish its whims. It does as it sees fit and who are we to argue? Of course you can refuse, but that would be silly indeed, for The Library does not choose vainly. Well?"

Too overwhelmed to speak or even think, the pair nodded in resignation and settled tiredly into a pair of nearby chairs, for they had nothing better to do at the moment. Perhaps once the initial shock wore off their minds would once more begin to function. Seeing how overwhelmed and tired they were, the bespectacled man took pity upon his guests and actually went through the tedious ordeal of preparing them a minor repast. They thanked him blankly, still too overcome to process much, but grateful for the simple but reviving fare. A little more rested and their hunger and thirst addressed, there was perhaps hope for a meaningful conversation.

Said the boy at last, "why do you need an apprentice sir? With all the other oddities about this place, I would not doubt that the Librarian here might not live forever."

The man replied with a chuckle, "you do have a head on your shoulders after all then lad? Very good, though I should have known as much for the Library would not choose one so ill-fitted to this position. I am getting on in centuries, I have lived a very long time as you have assumed but my heart is still mortal and I begin to grow weary of this existence. I feel very soon the time will come for me to see what else the world may hold for me, or perhaps to glimpse what lies beyond it. Either way, a replacement must soon be found. My poor wife wearied of this life not too long ago and retired from her service as lady of the place and I will soon follow after her. Thus a new housekeeper and Librarian are needed."

The girl had revived a bit and her usually ready wit, though still reeling with all that had happened, made itself known, said she, "why all the disguises, tricks, and diversions? Why the grim old fortress, the dour servants, the horrid forest, and the need to transform me into a dove?"

The man smiled in private amusement as he polished his spectacles but looked into the girl's furious eyes but his smile only deepened as he answered, "we cannot allow just anyone to come traipsing in here now can we? The Library feels the need to protect itself by various means to keep gawking tourists and nefarious villains alike at bay. Those who need what is here, will find it and those who don't are none the wiser. As to your altered persona, my lady, this is a respectable establishment attended by respectable people. As such, we cannot have an unmarried lass like yourself ensconced with an equally unmarried lad in a closed carriage for days on end, what would people think? Nay, you will either have to marry the lad or spend your time alone in his presence in a guise other than that of a maiden." She made a squawking sound very much like an enraged pigeon might, but he only shook his head and continued, "it is not my will lass but as the Library dictates. Neither need you remain against your will if the Rules are not satisfactory to you."

She sighed heavily and collapsed back in her chair like an old and tired woman, too overcome to do aught but think. The boy turned wary eyes upon the old Librarian and then glanced nervously at the lady, unsure what to make of this proclamation. The man laughed, "easy lad, it must be by mutual consent that you are wed, if you ever are. It was an agreeable arrangement with my own dear wife and perhaps the pair of you will make a go of it one day, but you need make no decisions now."

The girl had revived a bit and exchanged an incredulous gaze with her companion before the lad asked, "who exactly founded the Library and who oversees it?"

The man shook his head, "the Library has always been and will always be, though perhaps not in the same shape or form; for wisdom and knowledge never die nor shall they pass from the realm of being though the earth perish and the stars themselves burn out. As to who oversees it, that is a silly question if ever I heard one for the Library oversees itself and attends to its own needs and wellbeing most assiduously. We are merely its servants."

The boy shuddered, "it then has a will of its own?"

The man laughed heartily, "nay lad, it is not an entity per se, but rather an idea that is self-perpetuating and sustaining, set in motion by the same hand that sent the worlds spinning and maintained in like manner. The Library has no more will in and of itself than does the earth, but even so it functions as a living, growing being and throbs with the breath that called order out of chaos, light out of darkness. Here is Wisdom and Truth, the source of all real power and we are its humble guardians." The man turned gentle, laughing eyes upon the flummoxed younglings and ordered them both to bed, knowing their exhaustion and wonder would impede any further understanding this night. They hastened to comply and were soon lost in grateful sleep. Once the youngsters were abed, the man stood staring thoughtfully into the fire, his pipe between his teeth, and he said quietly to the dozing cat, "was I that clueless when first I came here?" The beast smiled knowingly and the man grinned wryly around his pipe stem.

Morning found them again in the snug sitting room with their host in his usual chair. He harried the girl off to the kitchen to see to their breakfast while he stood and motioned for the boy to follow him on a brief tour. There was not much to see, at least not at the moment. There were the three bedchambers, the number changed according to the needs of the Library's guests and servants, the kitchen where the girl puttered about as if she had known the place all her life, and the book filled sitting room. The boy turned a startled gaze on his host, "what is this? This huge castle has so small an interior?"

The man laughed merrily, "what you saw on the outside is certainly not the true exterior of the Library, if it has one, rather it was a vision to keep out unwary and unwanted company. As to the interior, whole worlds might be lost in a forgotten closet while this snug little room contains all the knowledge of the ages before and yet to come. Don't let your eyes deceive you, it is as big or small as it needs to be at the moment. When you need a certain book it will be given and when unneeded you won't need to dust it, worry about mold destroying it, or have it needlessly lying about underfoot. Think how much trouble it will save that dear girl if she need not maintain an entire castle on her own!"

The boy nodded, still not comprehending the bizarre physics of this place outside of Time and Space as he once knew them, and he asked, "and what is it the Librarian does? I assume you don't spend all your time copying old manuscripts or chasing about the world for new bits of wisdom."

"Very good lad," laughed the man warmly as they took a seat at the old battered table in the homely kitchen, "the Library does all its own literary housekeeping. The Librarian's job is to act as intercessor between the Collection and those come to seek its Wisdom." The boy nodded, more and more eager to see what strange story he had suddenly found himself in the midst of. The girl listened with interest as she set their food on the table.

Said she without preamble, well recovered from the shock of the previous evening, "what of me? Must I scrub pots and floors whilst he is spared slaving over old manuscripts with a dull quill and poor light?"

The Librarian grinned quite mischievously for a man of his age and position, said he, "nay lass, that answer you already know."

She smiled warmly at him then, her mock glare vanishing in their shared joke, said she, "aye, true enough. The pantry is full of eggs I did not gather, vegetables I did not raise, wood I never cut, and the pots as clean as the day they were made though I have used them this very morning."

Said the older man, quite content, "it is not a bad existence, not in the least and the Library would not have called you into this service were you not exactly suited for it. Will you stay?"

The pair exchanged an eager grin and then each nodded firmly at the old man, whose eyes glowed with pure delight. "Very well," said he, "then I shall be off then."

The boy gaped, "but I thought I needed to complete my apprenticeship!"

The man laughed, "you just did. You understand and anything you don't yet know will come when needed. You will do well, both of you. Remember what I said about getting married, it will prove rather inconvenient for the lady until you can arrange matters properly. Fare you well!" With that, he took up his pipe and wandered out the back kitchen door and into whatever fate awaited him thence. The remaining pair exchanged a stymied look, but knew he had the right of it.

And then the girl was again a dove and she sighed in consternation, "this will never do! How am I to accomplish anything, save perhaps dusting, garbed like this?"

The lad grinned impishly, "is that a marriage proposal then, my lady?"

The bird turned plaintive eyes upon the new Librarian, "I suppose it is. At least it will make things far less awkward around here." The lad smiled and the next moment there came a knocking upon the sitting room door. They exchanged a startled look and the lad hastened to answer. A rather perplexed man in clerical robes stood upon the doorstep and blinked at the young man who answered his summons. The boy ushered him in and he blinked all the more to find himself in such a place when he had been knocking upon the crumbling door of a ramshackle hovel.

Said the man rather tentatively, "you have need of me?"

The lady, a maiden once more, smiled and said, "we wish to be wed good sir."

The man nodded, still rather perplexed, but wasted no time in fulfilling their wishes. Said he in reply when asked to stay for a celebratory luncheon, "I am sorry, but I have other duties to be about this day, I really must be going, but I wish you all the best. Whoever you are!"

They saw him to the door and he hastened from that place, not sure even where or when he had been, only that he had felt a great urgency to attend to some business or other in that derelict cottage only to find himself in a stonewalled sitting room that might have lurked in a great lord's keep, the two occupants were dressed strangely, as peasants might two hundred years ago in a distant country remembered now only in old tales. He shook his head and hurried on his way, inexplicably content with his day's business. The newly wedded pair watched him go with a knowing smile, shut the door, and returned to the Library's business.

So passed many a year, or perhaps none at all. The Lady kept house and catered to the needs of their many and varied guests. The Keeper helped said guests find the knowledge that was vital to their immediate quest. And they dwell there still, or perhaps their heirs if they have grown weary of the timeless years, ever waiting to aide those who come to that place of All Wisdom in search of what can be found nowhere else. The cat still sits upon the hearthrug, smiling smugly, and knowing far too much. And even after time itself has passed out of memory and all the worlds are changed, still will the Library wait to avail itself to any soul in need and none can come away unchanged.

I do not like thee, Doctor Fell,

The reason why I cannot tell;

But this I know, and know full well,

I do not like thee Doctor Fell.

~Nursery Rhyme~

The Reason Why

They called him _The Dreadful Doctor_ in later years, but once men knew him as Doctor Fell, perhaps this unfortunate coincidence in naming contributed to the disquiet rumors concerning this now infamous man, whose name is now whispered in grim and insinuating tones. No one now living knows the truth, whether he is deserving of such infamy or not, but what does that matter as long as the story is interesting and becomes more so with each telling? For certainly sensation is more important than truth and the most horrid rumor must surely have a grain of veracity at its core?

There was once a little village where flowers bloomed in spring and the leaves were the most fantastic shades of crimson and gold come autumn; it was quite a neat and pretty hamlet, the perfect setting for such a story as this. In this picturesque town there dwelt a physician, as trim and tidy as even the most persnickety of the townsfolk could demand. He was a gentleman in his fading years, not great of stature but with a midriff that one day might be quite remarkable if properly cultivated; he wore round spectacles and had a curious habit of cocking his head as he listened intently to his patient's complaint, much like a bird studying the ground in search of a worm. His name was Fell, a strange moniker but certainly congenital and likely a result of heredity, as his father had borne the malady in his day, but despite this failing, he was an affable old gentleman and proficient in his trade. Besides his name, his only other flaw was the egregious habit of charging for his services, which none of his patients could quite understand, as he did a great service to his community and therefore his time and talents should be at their disposal and free of charge. It was quite monstrous that he would gouge his friends and neighbors solely to support his uncouth habit of eating and maintaining a quite unnecessary domicile.

Despite his uncanny tendency to ask for remuneration for his services, the good doctor was not stingy or unfeeling in his dealings with those of lesser means, often charging little or nothing to those who could not afford his services. It was only those who could afford his services and felt disinclined to actually pay for them that saw him as an unprincipled and heartless miser and whispered their dissatisfaction upon this point far and wide. The son of one such discontent, a rather prosperous merchant, approached the estimable doctor one day and asked boldly of his venerable elder, "is it true sir, that you are such a heartless wretch as to demand payment up front, from even the poorest soul, else you will refuse to even listen to their pleas and are thus willing to let them die without succor?"

The good doctor blinked once, looking strangely like a flummoxed sheep, made a noise that might have been either snort or laugh, adjusted his spectacles, and said in mild reproof, "who is it that has taught you to talk to your elders in such a fashion young man?"

The impertinent whelp, his pride smarting sorely from this rather minor admonition, said scornfully, "avoiding the question are we? So it is true!" The old gentleman shook his head in wonder and bid the discourteous fellow good day before waddling sedately away, musing to himself on the rudeness of today's youth. The boy ran to find his friends and immediately told the fabulous story which they carried home to their own families and soon many strange and preposterous tales were circulating around the village.

Most of the goodhearted citizens held the doctor in high esteem and little heeded the mutterings of their less charitable neighbors, but the various visitors and travelers that passed through the village and some of the distant relations of the more gullible townsfolk soon heard the tales and eagerly passed them on. So it was that the unwitting doctor's fame or rather infamy, grew as he calmly went about his rounds. Each telling became more fantastic than the last and eventually a truly hideous tale reached the very ears of the King, who dispatched a man to investigate the grim tales of a physician so foul that he refused to treat any but the richest of clients and fed the wasted remains of those unfortunates he refused to treat to his pigs.

The man sent to investigate the veracity of this reprehensible tale was a young man of middling wealth and the second son of a minor noble, quite skilled in the use of both his sword and mind: a rare combination in any age. He garbed himself as the most wretched of beggars and entered the village in question at twilight. He coughed violently and seemed to shake with weakness. The pathetic creature drew disdainful looks from the few villagers yet abroad, thinking such a scoundrel had no place in their prim little hamlet. The faux wretch approached the inn but was soon driven from its confines by the distraught host who could not countenance such a guest, though he was obviously in desperate need of shelter from the coming night. As the bullyboy hustled the unfortunate from the establishment, the man choked out, "is there a doctor hereabouts?"

The minion laughed heartlessly, "certainly, but he won't be bothered by the likes of you, but if you must know, he lives just outside of town." The beggar was tossed into the street and limped off in the direction of the infamous physician; the rough shook his head but smirked maliciously after the wretch before returning to the warm and cheerful common room.

The noble youth stood outside the indicated house for some minutes, studying it in detail. At least the fiend in question did not seem to own any swine. He then approached the door and knocked feebly, trying to look the decrepit invalid huddling miserably within his tattered cloak against the chill of the night. A rotund sleepy man in his dressing gown, holding a candle, answered the summons and quickly took in the pathetic scene upon his doorstep and leapt into action, or as close to leaping as such a man ever came. He hastened the fellow into the house, fetched him hot tea and a bit of supper, wrapped him in whatever cloaks and blankets came easily to hand, and only after the man was comfortable did the sinister doctor ask if his visitor would like an examination and possible treatment of whatever ailed him. At this, the wretched creature magically acquired health and vitality and shed twenty years while donning a vastly amused smile. Doctor Fell watched this stunning transformation and was quickly apprised of the reason for this incongruous visit. They shared a hearty laugh and a night of wonderful conversation followed, so good in fact that they remained dear friends for the rest of their lives.

The man returned to the King with his report of the infamous physician and shared in the King's rightful mirth, but just because the King was satisfied did not mean that other tongues would cease their wagging, and soon the legend of Doctor Fell grew to such proportions that no one could now recognize the horrendous villain that was the unassuming country doctor of that pleasant little village and many wondered at the unfortunate coincidence of their sharing a now infamous name. So Doctor Fell continued to practice for many long years, perhaps silently amused by tales of the dreadful villain who purportedly shared his name and was no doubt asked quite often if they might not be related.

O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been

Cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth,

Tasting of Flora and the country green,

Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth!

O for a beaker full of the warm South,

Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,

With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,

And purple-stained mouth;

That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,

And with thee fade away into the forest dim:

Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!

No hungry generations tread thee down;

The voice I hear this passing night was heard

In ancient days by emperor and clown:

Perhaps the self-same song that found a path

Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,

She stood in tears amid the alien corn;

The same that oft-times hath

Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam

Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.

~John Keats, 'Ode to a Nightingale'~

Forbidden Draught

There once was a pretty and prosperous village, whose residents prided themselves on their thrift and frugality to such a point that the local craftsmen had a very difficult time making a living, for only on rare occasions would someone actually purchase something new. So it was with the local shoemaker and his daughter, for their neighbors literally wore their shoes until they fell apart and then had them mended time and again until there was nothing left to mend. Thankfully the village was as lovely as its residents were parsimonious, which proved the salvation of the local economy, for many were the tourists who came to enjoy the bucolic beauty of the place. One such visitor, who came year after year and was undoubtedly well to do, was the means by which the cobbler and his daughter escaped starvation, for he always bought a new pair of boots on each visit and such was his taste that no ordinary, sensible, and economical pair of boots would do; he demanded the best, paid well for it, and was quite grateful to the supplier thereof. So it was that one young man's generosity supplied the wants and needs of the little family for an entire year. But he had not yet made his yearly pilgrimage when tragedy struck.

The cobbler took ill and succumbed very quickly to the disease, leaving his daughter alone in the world, save for the irate landlord who demanded payment of the yearly rent the moment the funeral was over. The grief-stricken girl was silent in despair, for there was no money to buy food for the morrow, let alone for the year's rent. What was she to do? The landlord, the most stingy man in a village of renowned misers, said gruffly, "you can't pay the rent?" She stared up at him bleakly and he saw his answer in her tear-filled, terrified eyes. "Very well," said he, "get you gone. And don't bother going back to the house for anything as I'll have to sell everything and hope to make back even a little of what you owe." Her whole body convulsed in a sob, she covered her face with her hands, and dashed blindly from the graveyard. The man stared after, wondering if all women were so flighty and was grateful he had never married, which was probably the greatest service he had ever done for womankind.

She knew not where she ran, until strong arms embraced her and a warm voice said, "Erin! Whatever is the matter?" She flung herself into the arms of her friend and wept bitterly, finally exhausted, she looked up meekly into the eyes of her comforter. Diana's eyes held nothing but concern and compassion as she asked again, "I know your father has just died, but what new grief has added to you misery?" The girl wept out her interview with the landlord and that good lady smiled grimly, "he would do such a thing and at such a time! Alas that I cannot be of aide, my poor, pitiful darling!"

The girl looked at her with haunted eyes, "but I had hoped to come to you in my plight! I would not stay long or be any bother, but I have no where else to go!"

The woman shook her head sadly, "alas, but I am summoned to the royal palace and there to take my place as lady's maid to the new Princess! I dare not disobey such an order nor can I take you with me."

Erin frowned, "how is it they have sought you out above all women in the country?"

The lady shook her head in wonder, "that I do not know, but it is rumored the Prince shall wed within the week and his lady's affairs must be put in order with all speed. I only received word this very morning upon! This great coach pulled up and the servants and guardsmen were adamant that I accompany them immediately, but I would not miss your father's funeral nor could I abandon you in your plight."

The girl finally noticed the great carriage waiting for her friend to ascend, with the proud, liveried figures upon it, waiting impatiently for the woman to finish her business that they might finally be on their way. The girl fell again upon her friend's shoulder and wept at this bitter parting, for she had no one else in the village to whom she could go and no other friends beside this dear woman. Diana held her close and wept her own tears of farewell, wishing with all her heart that she might do something to help her beleaguered companion, but she must soon away and she had nothing to give the poor stricken girl, but her compassion.

Erin finally gained a tenuous grip on her sensibilities as she said, "I wish you well, dear friend." She smiled weakly, "and I know you would give your own life for mine were you able, but such cannot be." Diana smiled wretchedly, her heart near to breaking, but allowed the servant to hand her into the waiting vehicle, which immediately left with a thunder of hooves and a clatter of wheels once the long delayed lady was within. Erin watched it drive off and wondered if she had aught else to lose this day. She knew her friend had to go, her father would insist upon it if those in power within the Kingdom had not. The poor girl's father was almost as stingy as Erin's former landlord and allowed his daughter nothing to call her own, she did not even have a penny to give her impoverished friend upon their parting and he certainly would not help her desperate friend. He had never liked their friendship, but since it cost him nothing, he turned a blind eye to the matter, but he would not burden himself with his daughter's castoff friend now that the girl had found herself so agreeable a position. Erin sighed heavily and turned her back on the home that was no longer hers; head and shoulders bowed in misery and grief, she trudged into the surrounding forest as the sun vanished behind the distant hills.

The next morning found a certain young man in the village but it was not boots that had brought him thence this year, but rather the gentle and comely daughter of his annual footwear supplier. The young prince was aghast to hear that the cobbler had died of late, his shop and house had been repossessed, and his daughter had hied herself to the woods as none of the villagefolk felt it their duty to aid the poor girl. It was his dearest wish to have the girl to wife that he might raise her and her estimable father out of poverty and ignominy, but alas, he had come too late! It was his order that had sent the carriage to fetch away her friend, that they might soon be reunited in far greater joy, but what wretched timing that he had carried away her only comfort in her hour of greatest need! He sighed deeply, checked that his sword and dagger were firm in their places, and flung himself into the saddle, intent on pursuing the woman he had so inadvertently and grievously wounded. He smiled, it was just like something in one of the old stories. He sobered and hoped that the worst he would face in those grim woods was merely a weary and grief-stricken young lady.

There was but one path through the woods and the prince was a good tracker, so did not despair of finding the wandering maid until night found him unsuccessful in his quest. He sat down upon a great stone beside a rushing stream while his horse greedily slacked its thirst, his head in his hands, racking his mind for any clue as to whither the maid might have fled, but he could remember no clue that she had turned off the main road.

"You'll never find her," came a knowing voice above him. He looked up in astonishment into the too knowing eyes of a magpie. The bird blinked slowly, as if a talking bird were nothing out of the ordinary, and then continued, "the elfin folk came upon her in her distress and much did they pity her. She went off with them and never more shall mortal man look upon her."

He stared at the bird in dread, "but can nothing be done?"

The bird shrugged, "why not just go back to your castle and live happily ever after? Why all this trouble? Are there not other ladies who might please you just as well?"

The prince said grimly, "if she is happy with her fate, I must leave her to it, but I will not rest until I have spoken with her, and rescued her if need be. I will not be content to go home and abandon her thus. I have inadvertently made her plight worse and I will not leave her in misery if it is within my power to prevent it."

The magpie ruffled up his feathers and said, "then you must go to the Elf Queen and beg your lady's release, but know that no mortal man has looked upon her and lived. You may buy her freedom, but only with your life."

The prince was silent for a moment in thought, but nodded firmly and said, "it will be as it must." The bird told him what he must do, took wing, and vanished into the darkness. The prince mounted his horse and rode off, deep in thought.

As the moon sank, the stars grew bright overhead and the Prince did as the bird had bidden him, standing beside a certain pool in the starlight and waiting patiently. All the expanse of heaven seemed mirrored in the pool before him and at a certain hour, the water parted, like two ebony curtains studded with diamonds suddenly drawn aside. A descending staircase of white marble shone before him like the noon sun on new fallen snow; he swallowed hard and vanished down the stairway. The way he had come was swallowed up anew by the night dark water and there was no way to go but forward. He wandered through endless shining corridors of white marble, cold and austere, until at last he came upon a creature of one of the elfin races. The elf was clad as a servant or page, resplendent in white and silver, he started when he saw a mortal boy wandering their sacred halls unattended. Said the boy without preamble, as the bird had advised, "I would see your Queen." The page flinched again in astonishment, but said nothing and motioned for the lad to follow. The Prince smiled wryly to himself but wasted no time in hastening after.

They wandered again down more colorless and brilliant passages of cold stone until they came to ornately carved doors of white wood that opened of themselves. The page bowed the man into the room and hastened away. The boy entered as confidently as he could and the door closed behind him. He found himself in a great chamber of the same cold marble and looked upon what might have been the Queen of Winter, for a frigidly beautiful woman of elfkind sat upon a white marble throne, draped all in white and silver raiment. Her eyes were a pale icy blue and her lips the barest hint of pink, as predawn on a midwinter's morn; her hair was so light it was almost white. Said she without question or surprise, "welcome child of men, what great boon would you ask of me that it is worth your very life?"

The boy bowed politely and said, "I have come in search of a certain young woman of mortal stock and was told she was taken in by your people."

A slight smile, though containing neither joy nor mirth, touched her pallid lips, "and what would you have of me or of this girl, oh bold one?"

Said he, "I would know that she is well, that she is happy with her fate, and if not, what may be done to rectify the matter."

Asked she, at last a little curious, "you do not seek her freedom that you might have her for yourself?"

Said the lad quietly, "in knowing the price I must pay to even inquire of her, lady, I knew such could never be. I set out in search of the lady for that very reason, but find that at the last it will never be. I suffice myself in knowing that she is content and perhaps one day may know joy again after all her great grief."

The lady raised an eyebrow, "does she know of your pursuit?"

The boy shook his head, "nay lady, and I would not have her so, she has suffered grief enough, let not my plight add to her sorrow."

"Well spoken," said the frosty Queen, "you may know that she is well, at least she has a place, a duty, and that which she needs for daily life, but as to such things as joy, happiness, contentment, and the like, that I doubt she shall ever know or find amongst us. For we know not such things ourselves." A small rueful smile touched her lips, "in this I envy you mortals, that your grief and sorrow are but for a season and then you pass beyond memory and knowledge into whatever lies beyond. We however, must linger on as long as time lasts with our regrets and sorrows and griefs. We have no hope of brighter days ahead, for all our glory lies in the distant mists of the past. Thus do we linger on without hope, joy, or even laughter to break the monotony, and only looking upon our past joys brings us any pleasure, but in so doing we also must remember too the years of pain and sorrow therein. All our songs are laments and dirges, our tales of faded glories, and our future as cold and featureless as our halls. Your lady will not find joy here, but she can find a numb acceptance of her grief, a duty to fill her days, and food and shelter as she has need."

Said the boy quietly, "such is a fate worse than death lady, at least to my fickle mind. For it seems you do not live, but rather exist in the shadow of grief, death, and sorrow, looking wistfully to the drab grey light of the past for what comfort you may, but such an existence cannot be called life! Can I somehow free the lady, even living with her grief and sorrow must be better than this, for someday the pain will be less acute and other joys shall come to brighten her days. To live in such numbness of heart until death is no life for my kind! My fate is far kinder by comparison."

"What would you have me do?" asked the Queen haughtily, for she did not like this mortal imp saying things of her people that she knew all too well to be the truth, "she is not a prisoner but rather a refugee, one whom my people found wandering in the wood and took pity upon. She spends her days scrubbing our brilliant halls and seems content therein, but she may go if it is her wish. But where would she go? What comfort is there in her grief? What future in a world that cast her out?"

Said the Prince, "I will write a letter to my father, a King among men, and let it be given into her keeping. He will see that she finds a place again among men and there is a dear friend awaiting her there who can do much to comfort her in her grief. My horse waits beside a starry pool by which I entered your realm, let her take him and ride whither she would."

The lady said, "very well, it will not burden us over much to do as you ask. She has not looked upon me, so she might yet walk freely under the mortal sun." Her smile turned grim, "but you shall not." At her words, a guard entered the hall by a means unseen, and she said to him, "allow this boy to write his letter, tell the girl that she is free to go if she would, and then escort our guest to his fate." The guard bowed deeply and escorted the boy from the Queen's presence.

The Prince was given paper and silver ink and quickly wrote his father, asking that he treat the lady as he might the Princess she might have been. He then mentioned his own dire fate and that it was of his own choosing, but that the lady should never know nor any rescue be attempted. The guard took the missive, but left the boy in a narrow corridor that had openings looking down upon a lower level where the girl was busy polishing the shining halls. She looked up in surprise to be so approached by one of her usually distant hosts and listened in astonishment to his words. Tears of joy and grief mingled in her eyes and for the first time in remembrance, for mortals easily forget the outer world in that place, she felt her heart stirring within her. She gladly accepted the offer and the letter, fully intent on leaving the tomb in which she had unwittingly interred herself and her grief. The guard told her how to find the waiting horse and gave her directions as to delivering her letter into the hands of the King. She smiled joyously at him, he shook his head in perplexity, and then she dashed off upon her adventure. The boy watched from the alcove above and was heartened by the girl's response. The guard motioned for the boy to come down once the girl was gone. He descended and the guard led him away.

The Queen sat on her throne, a cup brimful of red liquid in her hand, the only color that had entered those white halls in living memory; she stared at the fluid curiously, as if not quite sure what to do with it. A magpie suddenly perched upon the back of the throne above her shoulder, but she did not seem surprised, said he, "are you really going to go through with this?"

She shrugged and a look of annoyance crossed her beautiful face, "my people have lost all sense of joy, love, hope, and contentment. All we have is bitter memory and dull monotony. This at least might prove a source of momentary relief."

The bird shook his head, "you cannot drown your sorrows thus."

She smiled grimly, "no, but perhaps I can forget them for a moment. As the blood of grapes can remind one of lost summers, if only for a few moments, why can I not do the same with this? He came willing, his sacrifice was not in vain, at least as he saw it, why let it go to waste?" She laughed bitterly, "so much for happily ever after!" mocked she, raising the cup to her lips.

The bird ruffled his feathers in agitation, but said, "but there is a happily ever after and he has found it! It does not lie in the dust of the past nor in the sordid glories of the present nor even in dreams of the future, but rather beyond it. Your people have shunned that starry path and all joy with it; he has dared to tread it and will not be disappointed." He cocked his head, "it is not too late."

She set the cup down with a remorseful sigh and wiped her lips, as if she hoped the moment could last longer. She looked upon her avian interlocutor with annoyance, "be gone, I know what it is we have lost and also what we have gained. We will not be slaves again. Our freedom came at a cost and we are willing to pay it."

The bird shook his head, "so too was the boy, but he has truly attained that which you only think you have." And then he vanished.

' _How many miles to Babylon?'_

' _Three score miles and ten.'_

' _Can I get there by candlelight?'_

' _Yes, and back again._

If your heels are nimble and light,

You may get there by candlelight.'

~Nursery Rhyme~

By Candlelight

A single candle guttered fretfully on the bedside table, little noticed by either the grief stricken old dame in the chair with her careworn face in her hands or the silent, wan figure in the bed. The little girl fought for her life against a fever that had already claimed countless victims down through the ages while the old woman's whole world flickered on the brink of extinction like the forgotten candle, for the child was all she had left of kith or kin and this night would either end her struggles permanently or see the dawn of a brighter morning. So did the girl wander in troublous dream while her grandmother fervently prayed that some miracle might yet spare the stricken child.

The little girl was warm, oh so warm, she sat up in bed and stared longingly out the window into the cool of an autumn night, but terrified of the darkness, she took up the candle before she hastened out into the refreshing breeze that whispered of winter's coming. She danced gaily down the fieldstone walk her great grandfather had laid down for his new bride so many long years ago, rejoicing in her freedom after so many days abed, afflicted with fever, delirium, and pain. Her merry laughter was echoed back by the bright stars, her dear friends since first she thought to name them. A gentle path wound leisurely through the tame wood that surrounded her grandmother's small cottage and she thought what a joy it must be to tread it in the mysterious shadows of moon and creeping mist. She turned her steps thither and was soon lost amongst the swaying shadows of bare limbed trees. She skipped down the familiar path, now turned fey with moonlight, mist, and dancing shadows, singing as merrily as a skylark on the wing with only her candle for company.

How long or far she traveled, she did not know, but the world was now utterly strange about her. The mist had thickened and glowed slightly in the starlight, for the very stars were odd, gleaming in peculiar brilliance and number in their courses above. The trees were far fewer in number and widely scattered, but of such beauty and stature, height and girth, that she felt this wood was planted at the dawning of the world. There was a feel in the air, an imperceptible song, that trembled with Joy itself. The old year was dying, but in this strange wood, she was certain it was always Spring. She stopped and gazed about her in awe and wonder, her very being quivering in delight just to exist in this marvelous place. She wondered if she had strayed into one of the outer provinces of a lost country of the fairyfolk.

When a unicorn stepped out of the luminous mist and greeted her by name, she was in nowise surprised, rather had a common rabbit hopped across her path she would truly have been astounded. For here she felt sure only dwelt that which was never seen by the light of common star. She smiled upon the wondrous beast and walked along beside him, discussing all the questions and mysteries of the ages before and yet to come, her childish mind strangely capable of understanding all his wise and beautiful speech. So did they wander until dawn hinted at her coming, but the girl thought that should she witness the imminent morn, never again could things be what they once were. They stopped then on a hill, overlooking a little cottage that huddled forlornly in the dull grey of the predawn, mist shrouding it like a pall. Behind them, a bright and golden path led onward into an eternal morning.

Said the creature quietly, "will you descend or will you arise and go?"

The candle was now burning low and she knew she would never need it more upon that wondrous path, but perhaps her grandmother sat alone in the dark and wondered what had come of her. She sighed heavily and looked into the fathomless eyes of her companion, asked she, "must I return?"

He smiled slightly, knowing the burning ache to go that fretted like some trapped wild thing in her heart, but said he quietly, "the choice is yours child. The time of parting is upon you, but there is one that begs that it might be deferred a little while."

The child looked gravely at her candle and then upon the sad little cottage in the dell below. She smiled sadly up at her companion and said, "I had best return the light to poor, dear grandmama, that she not linger on alone in darkness and fear."

He nodded and said warmly, "I will await you here."

She was about to ask how long he might wait and knew that he would bide there for all eternity if he must. Her smile deepened and her heart grew firm in its resolve as she descended the hill and bore the sputtering candle back home.

The candle on the bedside table finally went out, fully spent, but the sun peeped in the window and chased away the night's lingering shadows. The child on the bed stirred and the woman by her side looked up from her grievous dreams. The girl sat up and smiled wondrously at the old matron, saying, "I have brought back your light grandmama!"

The old woman smiled in relief and greatest joy, "that you have my darling, that you have!"

" _So they took it away, and were married next day_

by the Turkey who lives on the hill.

They dined upon mince, and slices of quince,

Which they ate with a runcible spoon;

And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,

They danced by the light of the moon."

~Edward Lear, 'The Owl and the Pussycat,'~

And Other Nonsense

Crystal was a princess, and like all princesses she was indeed beautiful and rich, but not much else could be said for her, though for most people nothing else mattered so they at least were content. But Crystal was not content, she was bored and empty though she had everything royal heart could desire from splendid clothing to lavish entertainments to the company of any named person in the known world, should she wish it. She wished it, she wished something indeed, but she did not know what 'it' was, only that nothing seemed to satisfy; it was as if the whole world and all therein had the character of a grim, dreary day in the late fall after all the color, warmth, and cheer had fled the countryside in dread of the coming winter leaving only dull grey clouds lowering overhead, lifeless brown earth underfoot, and a bitter wind moaning in the chimney for summer lost. But such was not the character of either wind or weather, for it was late spring and the birds sang in their varied choruses, the garden was a tapestry of bud and bloom, and joyous was the sun treading the depthless blue of the heavens. Crystal looked at it all, turned from her window with a heavy sigh, and glanced disconsolately at all the books, baubles, trinkets, and wonders that littered her chambers but found no joy therein either.

With idle indifference, she took up a colorful tome from the uninteresting heap and glanced carelessly through the pages, feeling no point in the effort but ill at ease doing nothing at all. Finally, her unconscious perusal of the book brought her attention to bear for a moment upon that which she was doing, grateful for even a short escape from her dull and tedious thoughts, she focused her full attention on the pages before her. She smiled in spite of herself, for a moment recapturing the joy and wonder those tales had held for her when she was a wee mite upon her father's knee and she knew nothing about being a Princess. People in those stories were always going out and having adventures or having such thrust upon them, there must certainly be some meaning and interest in an adventure, perhaps she ought to have one. She frowned, how did one go about having an adventure when one was a Princess, certainly no one would approve of her involvement in anything that might somehow be construed as even remotely dangerous, or worse, dirty? She smiled eagerly, then she would just have to quit being a Princess.

She called one of her handmaids to her immediately and told the girl of her grand scheme; the poor creature could only tremble in dread and terror until the Princess assured her that she would see that the servant was not held responsible for whatever was to come. With this promise, the girl began to listen more eagerly to her mistress and soon shared in her excitement as her plans unfurled. Of all the Princess' many servants and handmaids, this dear girl was the only one with a true and noble heart, the rest were merely seeking their own advantage in the position and were ever fawning over their mistress. Claire, was not a bold creature, but she never gave false praise nor shirked in her duties, but always carried them out with sincere diligence and eagerness, and would have spoken only the truth to her mistress if ever she had deigned to ask her opinion on anything. This odd behavior soon drew the Princess' curiosity and long had she tried to puzzle out what was so strange about this particular lady-in-waiting, though she was still no closer to understanding the peculiar servant she somehow knew that of all her minions, this girl was most to be trusted. Perhaps a more prudent servant would have quickly carried word to the King of her mistress' plans, but Claire was truehearted to her mistress even if she were not as wise as some might hope. The girl quickly agreed to aid and abet her lady, and great was her rejoicing to see that her mistress was finding interest in life at last, little thinking of the danger that might await her lady upon such a journey.

The Princess announced to everyone that she would be taking a grand tour of the world in search of a prospective husband, which greatly excited her parents, as they hoped it meant the floundering child was at last taking an interest in life as she had not in some years. Her retainers were eager to see who would accompany her, each eager for the honor, but alas, only the least of her maids was to go with. The Royal parents did not find this part of the plan at all acceptable, which her juvenile majesty had anticipated, so allowed her parents to send an escort of four guards with her, thus satisfying their need to feel helpful in said plan. The next morning, the little entourage set out in a most satisfactory fashion, the ladies ensconced in the second best carriage and the guards riding ahead and behind as escort with a reliable though aged pair of servants to serve as footman and driver of the coach. Said Crystal to Claire, after they were safely away from the city and the noise of the carriage covered their quiet conversation, "how long have you been in my service?"

Claire thought for a moment, "five years Majesty."

Said the Princess eagerly, "and have you learned well the ways of the court and nobility in all that time?"

Claire's eyes were wide with dread as she began to realize what her mistress might intend but she replied, "yes, Majesty."

"Good," said the Princess, "for it will soon be time to make my escape. We shall travel together as we ought until we reach the first large town outside the Kingdom and there we shall stop for the night. Upon that morrow, we shall acquire a girl to act as Lady's maid to the Princess, only you shall don my clothes and play the part of Royalty and I shall become the seasoned handmaid. Once the girl is duly impressed with your royal heritage, you shall find some fickle excuse and dismiss me from your service. We shall go about veiled so that our dear retainers know not that they are unwittingly a part of my subterfuge. You and your new maid shall travel about from Kingdom to Kingdom and act the Princess. After a year of such travel or should you acquire a royal spouse, then let the charade end and live out the rest of your days in joy."

Claire paled, "but Majesty! Are you never to return? Am I to take your place forever?"

Crystal looked out the window with eyes that saw something beyond sight, "I will not be returning to my former place. I left a sealed letter with the Steward and he will open it upon your return or one year hence explaining everything. I have other siblings who might assume the throne so you need not worry over that. Should you attract the attentions of a royal personage, I have left instructions for my family to proclaim you a true princess. If you do not, I have also left word that they should treat you well all the rest of your days in reward for your faithful service to me. I may return one day to visit my folk, but I cannot do so in royal guise. My future lies elsewhere from such a rich though vapid existence."

Claire began to cry, "do not leave your faithful servant lady!"

Crystal shook her head but smiled sadly, "it seems I do have one true friend, but alas, dear one, we must be sundered."

Claire nodded pitifully but a look of resignation and acceptance was in her eyes. They continued on as the Princess had foretold. The girl was thus acquired and taught that Claire was the Princess and Crystal the servant; both princess and handmaid had much to learn about their new roles before they reached their first stop in the neighboring Kingdom, but Claire was determined not to fail her mistress and soon learned that which she must. Sadly however, Crystal proved an all too poor hand at feigned servitude and her mistress was forced to send her packing before the coach arrived safely at its destination. The guards and servants said nothing, as it was a private matter between their mistress and her ladies. So it was that Crystal was left behind as the carriage rolled off towards the first stop on a year long tour of the Kingdoms of the known world. She was glad of the veil, knowing it hid her look of triumph and eagerness. Once the coach was out of sight, she gathered up her few belongings and went inside the inn where she had been left behind by her once regal life.

She took a room, though it was very early in the day, and withdrew therein to hide from curious eyes. She changed into the plain but serviceable garments that would probably be her lot for life and carefully packed away her fine handmaid's garb. Her business finished, she sat on the bed and waited for the excitement of her burgeoning adventure to overwhelm her, but all she felt was an overpowering sense of dread and an aching loneliness which she never remembered from those silly stories. She sighed deeply, but smiled ruefully, at least her heart did not lie dead and disconsolate within her. She was feeling something at least, though what she was not at the moment sure, but it was a start. She was not exactly sure what to do with herself from now on, she had money enough to last for a year if she were careful, but eventually she would need to have a means of income. In the stories one always had something one was fleeing from or chasing after, or a man with a long beard and a pointy hat always emerged to give wisdom in the guise of a riddle at such moments, but Crystal was alone except for a little mouse in the corner searching about for crumbs. She smiled wistfully, wondering if her search were as futile as that of the wretched mouse.

Well, no sense sitting dolefully about and bemoaning what might or might not happen tomorrow when you could do something about today. She needed to eat something, to sleep well this night, and then do a bit of shopping to outfit herself for the mysterious life to come. And so she did. She took a quiet meal in the common room with no grimy but interesting persons making themselves known and at her service for her looming adventure. She slept as well as one might on a lumpy mattress in a vermin infested room on the eve of a major life change. Then she settled her bill after an unassuming breakfast and set out to do her shopping. She had never really been shopping before, in her Princess existence the seamstresses and hat makers came to her, but all that was about to change. She had observed her father and his interactions with various political rivals and had learned enough of such maneuverings that she thought she could take on the local fishmonger, at least assuming she was in the mood for fish. So she hastened out into the burgeoning day but there was nary a fishmonger in sight.

She settled for the local shop of random and necessary merchandise and set about making her purchases. Her smile became strained as she selected several very serviceable but hardly pretty dresses and a sensible pair of shoes to match; she had never owned a serviceable anything in her life! A little food, a waterskin, and a bag to carry it all rounded out her shopping spree and she set out ere noon upon the first dusty and rather warmish steps of her adventure.

Three days later, shivering and soaked to the skin, she huddled under a hedge along the road and wondered for the thousandth time what she had been thinking to leave it all behind. Apparently they left this little unpleasantness out of the stories, but any moment a handsome stranger would come along or some fairy in distress would appear and everything would be okay. No, better than okay, happily ever after! No one showed up that night, but as those annoying birds woke her from what little sleep she had managed, cold and miserable as she was, she heard the encouraging sound of carriage wheels approaching. Her heart sank, it was her own carriage come back for her. The guardsmen drew rein a little ahead of her and the carriage stopped beside the bedraggled waif. The servants and guards studiously did not look at her, save to alight and open the door for her convenience. With a resigned shrug, she entered the vehicle and it clattered off into the rising day. A relieved and rueful Claire was trying very hard not to meet the eyes of her mistress while the new girl gaped like the naive little creature she was.

Said Claire at last, "I hardly had the courage for it miss, but for your sake I was determined to try, but then not a day after we set out a messenger came from the king himself and said if I tried anything foolish, it was as much as any of our heads were worth. The Steward must have given your letter to your parents right away so we had no choice but to set out looking for you."

"What are you not telling me?" asked Crystal as she tried very hard not to laugh hysterically, unsure if she were more relieved or embarrassed at this turn of events.

The girl swallowed hard and said, "you are also to find yourself a husband and you needn't bother going home until you do."

Crystal sat back and frowned, "a husband, ay?" A mischievous grin grew on her lips and she laughed, "a husband indeed!" She tapped on the side of the carriage, passed a few words to the driver, and settled back into her seat, eager to implement her plan but was soon asleep.

They stopped at midday at a wayside establishment where her Princess-ship was able to eat a good meal and make herself appear as something far more royal and rather less like a drowned beast. Afterwards, the coachman whipped up his team and they rattled off into the afternoon, seeking a swamp. Yes a swamp, a fen, a bog, a wetland, a marsh, or whatever the local authorities chose to name it, but a place where frogs could be found in abundance. If a princess needed a husband, the most expedient remedy was undoubtedly an amphibious kiss. Crystal was not fond of things aquatic and slimy, but if she must marry, she would marry as only a storybook princess could. She would kiss every frog in the world if she must, but she would prove herself the heroine of some tale or die trying. She sat back in astonishment and said to Claire in some awe, "I have a quest, a purpose, a reason for being!"

Claire stared at her with the 'seemingly interested but not really listening' face of passivity that come naturally to servants in such a position and the girl beside her said eagerly (and thereby breaking every known rule of royal etiquette), "what is it mistress?"

The two elder ladies gave her an annoyed look before her Highness continued, somewhat subdued as her thunder had inadvertently been stolen by this unseemly outburst, "I will disenchant a frog prince and we will live happily ever after."

Claire wanted to groan in agony but dutifully nodded with a wan smile on her face, "your parents will be delighted Majesty, I am certain." Crystal nodded as if it were the absolute truth and resumed her nap. The girl gaped anew and Claire wondered if she were doomed to spend the rest of her life slogging through nameless bogs in search of enchanted royalty. She hoped not, even a lady's maid had her limits.

Late in the afternoon, they stopped alongside the local quagmire and the ladies disembarked. The entire party was put to work herding frogs towards her Majesty's wondrous kisses and chasing the disgusted losers back into the bog. After kissing two hundred and nine unique frogs, something finally happened: the sun set and they were forced to retire for the night. Claire mused idly that she should have left her Majesty to her own devices and gone back for her appointment with the headsman. As the others retired for the night, the handmaid crept out into the darkness to make her own arrangements.

The next morning found a rather impatient and quite irate bureaucratic functionary awaiting her Highness as she went out to the fen to continue her amphibious interludes. Said the Official Secretary of Marshes, Watercourses, and Similar Environs, "madam, just what do you think you are doing? This is a respectable Kingdom and our frogs are respectable frogs. No sorceress is allowed to turn a Prince into a frog without a permit and such a permit has not been granted in ages! Nor is it proper etiquette to kiss any amphibious creature without a proper introduction. This behavior might be permissible in your benighted homeland but it will land you in jail in this enlightened realm!"

Crystal sighed, "where then am I to find a proper Prince?"

Said the secretary, "come to my lecture on the Proper Protocols for Introducing Oneself to Fishes and their Allies this afternoon and you will undoubtedly find your Prince." He bowed himself out and went his way. Claire for a moment regretted her hasty actions but assured herself this lecture could not possibly be worse than kissing frogs. The look on the Princess' face said otherwise.

So it was that they went to the lecture and met any number of third and fifth sons of royal birth but equally obscure destiny. And finally Crystal found her true purpose in life: attending lectures with cumbersome titles and very little useful content with other disaffected noble offspring and forcing her parents to pay obscenely for the privilege. Hey, it beats kissing a frog! Or so Claire told herself as she took leave of her lady, now happily ensconced in the predecessor to modern universities, and went her way, so utterly tired of royalty and adventure that she married the most mundane and unexciting man she could find and settled down to raise a family and potatoes and thus did someone in this irrational story live rather contentedly ever after.

Three wise men of Gotham,

Went to sea in a bowl,

And if the bowl had been stronger,

My song had been longer.

~Nursery Rhyme~

Wisdom's Children

The first had eyes doleful as any hound, equally bloodshot with drooping lids. The second wore a look gloomy as death, one could not gaze upon his countenance without declaring, "this then is the meaning of lugubrious! Whenever they get around to writing dictionaries, his likeness shall ever be linked with that horrid word." The third never said anything but peered down his long nose like a crow staring down from a dead tree, too great and wondrous to notice the goings on of the lesser beings about him, save perhaps with a sneer. They were academics, they were professors, they were brilliant, they were going to sea. The University of Gotham had grown rather small for these men of towering intellect, the confined one story space was so cramped with students and lesser professors that there was hardly room to stand, let alone sit or maintain the requisite personal space necessary to such men of lofty mien, but they would not be driven from their nest like terrified fledglings reluctant to fly. No! Rather they were setting themselves an academic challenge to which they must rise and would shine forth all the brighter. They would go to sea! The things they would learn, the space they would have! They were dizzy with the sheer wonder of such heady thoughts.

As they were such brilliant men, never did they think to ask, 'how does one go to sea?' Never did they talk with sailors or fishermen or shipbuilders, such common folk could know nothing of the intricacies of an ocean voyage. Neither did they know of any esteemed Doctor in the nautical arts, they might have deigned to speak with such a colleague, but to their expansive knowledge none such existed in the known world. Perhaps they might have read a book upon the subject, but as there was no esteemed Doctor to write such a tome, there was certainly none in existence they would stoop to reading. Instead, they peered at the sea, talked amongst themselves, and theorized, which must be far the wiser course of action, for men of learning must know something even about things of which they know nothing, for an expert in one field is undoubtedly an expert in all.

So it was for a year and a day they talked and thought and argued about the best means by which to go to sea. The results were rather splendid, even more so because the project was fully financed by the King, who acted as benefactor to this astounding project for unspoken reasons of his own. They stood upon the quay, resplendent in their nautical garb (of their own design also) of brilliant purple, silver, and cloth of gold; their hats alone were works of such art that many a lady pined over their beauty to her thrice great-grandchildren. Beside them floated their craft, a perfectly spherical bowl, painted and gilded to match their own brilliant garments. The usual inhabitants of the dockyards stood off to one side in their peasant drabbery, their faces unreadable and silent at this interruption in their routine but a hostile fog floated unseen around the intruders and their gaudy craft and clothes alike. The entire populous of the University turned out to wish the voyageurs a fond farewell, the students gawking like peasant children upon their first sight of a distant castle and the lesser professors envious behind their painted smiles. The ceremony was long, tedious, and full of words too long to bother repeating, but at last all was settled in an appropriately glorious fashion and the adventurers boarded their craft which summarily capsized with their ill-distributed weight, plunging the three into the murky depths below.

The peasant rabble did not bother to hide their mirth at seeing these all too high and mighty persons brought down by their own folly while the envious lesser professors wondered if they might not find themselves elevated should their esteemed peers accidentally drown. The students continued to gape in silence, not realizing that this was not part of 'The Plan,' as it would never occur to their finely cultivated minds to think that such esteemed personages could ever make a mistake, no matter how minor. So it was that no one rushed to the aid of the beleaguered seamen, but rather stood about lost in their own contemplations of the circumstances. But thankfully, our lofty professors were not without their resources. They had never bothered to learn to swim, but such a basic skill that could be mastered by the dullest of peasant children must come naturally to men of their persuasion. But there was also the perplexing matter of one's pride, would it not be better to drown rather than face the mirth of their peers, and worse, the peasantry in what should have been their finest hour? What about the state of one's clothes! One could not emerge from the sea dripping and soggy, like a cat caught in a downpour; it would never do!

So they thought to themselves as the waters closed in around them and no hand came to draw them from the engulfing sea. Had a hand reached out in help, they would have slapped it away in pride, for none of their esteemed colleagues was esteemed enough to offer rescue! The lugubrious fellow began to theorize on the art of swimming and had just come to the point of trying a few bold strokes himself when he was quite overwhelmed by the surrounding wetness and lost to all theorization thereafter. The man with hound's face thought to make a study of the intricacies of the submerged world in lieu of his sea voyage, forgetting for a moment that he was not a natural denizen thereof, until he became a permanent resident. The sneering academic sat upon the bottom and snarled at the jaunty outline of their fabulous bowl-ship, a mere shadow amid the hazy light of the water's surface, daring anyone to come to his aid, daring the water itself to do its worst. Whether the water heeded him or not, none can guess, for he has yet to emerge and give an account of the matter and the sea will only murmur to itself in a language outside of mortal ken.

The students went back to their studies, eagerly awaiting the day when the esteemed professors would return from their in-depth study of the ocean depths while their colleagues began plotting how best to use this tragedy for their own advancement. The bowl floated merrily next to the quay and the peasants went back to their livelihoods, a knowing smile upon their less than enlightened faces. The three apparently continue their studies to this day, their lecture no doubt will be quite enlightening upon their return, but for some reason the fishermen of that little village believe quite the contrary, shaking their heads and grinning knowingly whenever the subject is broached. But then what do such uneducated and silly folk know of such matters?

Something told the wild geese

It was time to fly,

Summer sun was on their wings,

Winter in their cry.

~Rachel Field, 'Something Told the Wild Geese'~

Earthbound

It was a land where only birds could find easy passage, birds or winged horses. It was a rich and fertile land, with a mild climate and abundant rains that allowed all manner of vegetation to flourish, but the topography was something out of a nightmare. Great hills, with impossibly steep slopes, thrust themselves out of the earth while plants clung precariously to their sides and adorned their relatively flat tops like an uncouth green mane. Wild rivers lurked in the steep valleys between the jumbled hills that slanted at strange angles like so many crooked teeth; between the cascading rivers and lush foliage, there were always mists and rainbows mysteriously draping the hills. Even goats could not make a living upon those crazily slanting steeps, but Pegassi flourished where goats feared to tread. Their great wings could bear them easily to the hilltops where they could graze at leisure or they could gain some precarious foothold upon the nearly vertical hillsides to nibble at some choice treat beyond the reach of normal herbivores. It was a land of legend, beauty, and mystery and well beyond the reach or interest of mankind, or at least so it seemed. For men had found the land too harsh to farm or settle and were content with their holdings elsewhere, thus the Pegassi were left in relative peace, save for the occasional adventurer or fortune hunter bold enough to venture into those mysterious lands.

But the Pegassi had little to fear from such forays, for they were keen of sight, smell, and hearing and could easily elude any pursuit that went about on legs and were wary enough to keep well out of bowshot. So men sometimes glimpsed the wondrous creatures from a distance but never had mortal man come face to face with the marvelous winged horses that most thought existed only in legend. Over the centuries, many had tried their luck at capturing or killing one of the astounding creatures, but even the luckiest only received the briefest glimpse as his reward, most saw nothing at all and went away convinced the creatures were simply a myth. So it was that the Pegassi lived on quite indifferent to men in the relative safety of that peculiar land.

But some were not content to let the fabulous creatures live on undisturbed, for there was a fortune to be made by the man who could capture one of the beasts and Gort would not rest until he was that man. He packed up his mules and a half dozen sturdy men and hied himself to the place where legend dwelt, intent on making a detailed study of the creatures and their habits, in hopes of finding some weakness or quirk that he might thus exploit. They set up camp along one of those rivers that were as wild and untouched as the fabled Pegassi they hunted and there they stayed for some months, mapping out the area, studying the creatures, and making their plans. The Pegassi made note of the squatters and were careful to avoid that particular vale, but otherwise paid the intruders little heed. It was soon obvious that a healthy adult was nigh uncatchable, leaving only the young and the weak, but they had not invested so much to come away with some crippled or sick creature so they turned their predatory eyes to the very young. But where and when did the creatures foal?

Only the Pegassi could answer that question but they were not about to reveal their most intimate secrets to such unscrupulous strangers. The land was a paradise for anything with wings, but an unfledged foal would find it as harsh and unyielding as mortal men. The verdant hilltops provided good grazing for the adults but they had to travel from hill to hill to sate their hunger as they were too small to support one Pegassi indefinitely, neither could they serve as a nursery for the earthbound children of that race. Rather, the mares secreted themselves in the wide meadows of the plateaus to the West of those hills and there brought forth and nurtured their young, until they were old enough to tread the paths of the sky and could thus return to their native land. Gort and his cronies soon understood the limits of those crazy hills and knew the creatures must bear and raise their foals elsewhere, and if he could find that elsewhere, the creatures would be his.

So it was that he sent his minions out in pairs on scouting missions into the surrounding countryside seeking anywhere that might prove a good nursery to the creatures, and after many months and countless miles, his prudence paid off. For beyond those hills lay a broad land of lush pasture and meandering streams in which the beasts could lose themselves and their young ones until the creatures could gain the safety of the skies. Gort abandoned his camp and moved into the midst of the plateau to impatiently await the spring.

The mare was nervous, she caught the vagrant scent of men in the air and knew they had invaded the Pegassi's ancestral foaling ground, but her time was near and she had no other choice. She glanced about anxiously and crept into a little dell, hoping it concealed her from casual sight. The foal was born without difficulty and his antsy mother began to relax as the days wore on and no interruption presented itself. Finally she felt comfortable leaving the colt hidden during the day while she vanished back to the familiar hills with their rich pasture to graze, returning at night to guard and nurse her offspring. The foals were born amidst a wide green pastureland, but as summer wore on the heat intensified and the rains failed and the grass soon lay sere and brown, whereas those impossible hills never failed to offer lush, green fodder save in the coldest months of winter and even then there was enough to sate the Pegassi, though it was dry and brown. Even before the grass failed, it was the habit of all such mothers to return home to graze during the course of the day and visit the foals only at night, in this way drawing less attention to their vulnerable offspring while still availing themselves of the luscious grass of their homeland. The foals hid most of the time, but as they grew older, they would start grazing on their own in the cool of evening and amidst the dew of morning. By the time fall arrived, they were able to leap into the air and were almost ready to fly; soon they could follow their mothers home one crisp day and enter their true home before the snows of winter buried the plateau.

Gort and his men hid themselves throughout that wide green land and watched, eventually finding several such mothers and their young ones hidden throughout the countryside. Great was their rejoicing when they discovered this odd habit of leaving their foals alone and unprotected throughout the day. Then on one fateful morning, they waited for the mare to depart, mounted their horses, and pursued the foal. He could not fly but he could still run. But he could not outrun so many mature horses. He bleated pitifully and ran until he collapsed, then the hunters were upon him. They tied him securely, put him on the back of one of the ever patient mules, mounted their weary horses, and turned towards home. The mare returned to find the creature gone with signs of a great chase and struggle written in the crushed herbage and disturbed turf all about where he had been. She screamed heart-wrenchingly to the indifferent moon but knew her little one was beyond her aid. She fled back to those peculiar hills with the dawning and great was the unease among her people.

Gort had his own source of unease, for he did not trust his minions. One by one their numbers started to atrophy as they journeyed back into the lands of men. One died of a sudden illness, another suffered a tragic accident, one went wandering away from camp one night and never returned, another's horse went mad and threw himself and his hapless rider to the ground and neither stirred again, and so forth until only Gort and two of his cronies remained. The two underlings were by now very jumpy, wondering if they had somehow cursed themselves by daring to capture such a beast or if there were not some treachery among them. Gort whispered quietly to one of the men one night, "Carl has been acting a bit strange of late, whispering things that should not be spoken by mortal men. Wanting to be the sole possessor of our prize. He makes me nervous."

The man frowned, "I had suspected as much. We may need to take matters into our own hands. Are you with me?" Gort nodded his encouragement as the man drew his dagger and approached the unwitting Carl, who looked at the drawn weapon with apprehension and then fury, drawing forth his own. The first man looked questioningly at Gort, who nodded grimly and reached for his own knife, but relaxed his grip on the hilt when it was clear Carl was not going to sit this out, though Gort fully intended to. The two struggled for a time and Gort made sure the winner did not live to celebrate his victory. He smiled triumphantly to himself as he filched anything the deceased had of use or value, then he approached the cruelly bound foal, gloating, "now it is just you and I, beast, and none will share in my profit or know the secret to taking such a creature!" The foal cringed back and shuddered, at the dreadful things he had seen and heard since his abduction, feeling that men must be the most dreadful creatures alive in the wide world and wondering what his own bitter end would be among them. The next morning, the man set out alone with his great prize and thought his future would be grand indeed.

But there are other unscrupulous men in the world, every bit as nasty as Gort, and just as happy to avail themselves of a potentially lucrative situation. The bandits were attracted by the horses and mules in the party and only encouraged in their ambitions by seeing a single man attending them all. A few arrows later, the villains were rifling through the baggage and securing their new property while Gort was well beyond such mortal concerns. One of the unwashed lot pointed out the wretched foal which was thin, bedraggled, and dejected. Their leader barked a laugh, "who would bother themselves with such a pitiful creature when we have more than enough with the rest of the beasts? Leave it!" The thieves shared a hooting laugh and vanished into the night, leaving the poor creature bound and alone with the murdered Gort. He had thought his plight could not get much worse, but he was horrified to discover himself dreadfully wrong. At least he had not fallen into the hands of such horrid men; they had not looked close enough to see the wing buds on his back in the twilight nor would they have known what they were had they seen them. He sighed and wondered how long it would take to die of thirst or until a wandering predator ended his misery.

A gasp of horror and surprise brought the colt awake instantly, he must have dozed off with exhaustion, terror, and grief, but he was wide awake as he scanned the small glade in which he found himself with the sun on the rise. His heart leapt within him, but whether in fear or joy, he was unsure, for he was no longer alone. He had resigned himself to a grim and lingering death alone, but here was another human creature and part of him rejoiced that he was no longer alone with the dead. But this creature was different than all such that he had yet encountered. This one was smaller, more timid, and did not smell of grime and filth. It was this creature who had uttered the gasp, probably upon sighting his dead conspecific. His attention turned to the foal as it struggled to an upright position and the lad gasped anew. Tremulously, he approached the cruelly bound colt, giving the dead man a wide berth.

The foal flinched back when the lad drew forth his knife, but relaxed when he realized he only meant to cut the bonds. Soon enough, the colt was loose, bucking and frisking like a calf turned out on spring pasture. He rolled on the grass under the sun and felt that life might yet hold joy for him. He stretched and kicked, working the stiffness and disuse out of legs, wings, neck, and body. The boy frowned in perplexity when he glimpsed the wing buds on the creature's back. The colt shook his head and snorted, saying, "you have never seen a Pegassi before?" A voice from such a source was even more astounding than the strange appendages on the foal's back; the boy sat down heavily and gaped. The beast snorted a laugh, "apparently not and neither have you heard a horse speak." He glanced grimly at the remnants of the bandit's handiwork and said, "so are all men like them? Creatures who care nothing for others and only seek that which will benefit themselves, even if they must murder one another to accomplish it?"

Tobin shook his head, his eyes still wide, "many men are selfish and some downright vile, but most are not as cruel or villainous as you have apparently encountered. Would I have loosed you, were I such as they?"

The colt nodded, "you speak wisely, for you thought me a mere horse and yet stooped to help such a wretched creature, for which I am grateful. But what is to come of me? I am in far better straits than I was last night, but I am still far from my home and among a people that will think nothing of enslaving me again."

Asked the boy, "what would you have of me?"

Said the Pegassi, "I must return to my people who dwell many days to the south, but I know not the way and am yet very young and alone in all the world."

Tobin smiled sadly, "that makes two of us, for my father has recently married and my stepmother said that I must go find my place in the world because I no longer had one under her roof. I hardly know anything of the world, especially your homeland or people, but I will accompany you, if you would have me."

The Pegassi whinnied for joy, "glad would I be for the company of a kind and caring friend, though we know little of the world, we shall face its perils together. Are you sure you wish to go on such an adventure, it may well be dangerous and you cannot survive on grass as I can."

The boy grinned impishly, "any direction is as good as any other at the moment and I am like to starve or fall into danger regardless of the way I go. I might as well make the journey as interesting and useful as possible since I have to go regardless."

The colt frisked excitedly, "very well, friend, let us away, but first I must find somewhere to drink and bathe, I should shine like fresh snow not be as drab as wet ash." Much to the Pegassi's delight, there was a cold brook laughing in the shadows just over the hill. He joyously plunged in, cleansing himself physically of his recent adventures, if only his heart were so easily restored to its former innocence and joy. He charged out of the stream and laughed, "come friend! Our adventure awaits." He set off at an eager trot but found the boy could not keep up so contented himself with a walk that he not lose his companion. The boy smiled gratefully and hastened alongside his new friend.

It was now midsummer and the colt had spent nearly a month a captive, traveling as fast as Gort could push his horses, so it would be well into early autumn before they reached the Pegassi's country afoot. He was not even sure where his country was, only vaguely familiar with the route back to the plateau where he was born and hoped he could locate his homeland from there, having watched his mother travel thither on a daily basis.

Tobin wondered how he was to find food upon the way, for from what the creature said, there were few farms and no villages between their current location and the Pegassi's native heath. He smiled ruefully, it was not as if he had had any idea of how he was to provide for himself anyway, save perhaps to offer to assist with any needful chores in exchange for a few scraps or a little bread, but that would require someone to ask for such a boon, something he was unlikely to encounter on this journey into the wilds. Ah well, he would think of something. He hastened on after the eager Pegassi, having lagged a bit in his introspection.

Theirs was a merry journey, both were young and eager and the weather held pleasant. The Pegassi had been forcibly weaned by his capture and had been forced to make due with what grass he could nibble at night within the radius of the short rope that kept him tied to a tree. Even with their quick pace, he started to gain weight as they traveled, thanks to his newfound ability to graze as he pleased. The boy on the other hand, was forced to tighten his belt. He did not starve, for he knew enough of woodcraft to procure some sustenance from the land about them, he had a bow and a knife that aided him much in his search and the season was that when wild foods were fairly abundant. The occasional farm they encountered also helped sustain him, the residents so eager to have company in these far flung regions that they eagerly welcomed the boy amongst them and gave him a little food to take on his way the following morning. So did the weeks and miles pass, until the season was waning and a chill in the wind hinted at colder days to come. The woods were left behind and they climbed up treeless hills into a broad, flat land of endless grass.

Said the Pegassi one bright morning, inhaling sharply, "ah, this then is the land of my birth." The boy looked a question at him and the creature continued, "this is only where I was born, my people dwell somewhere to the East and thence must we go."

The boy asked, "you have never seen your homeland?"

The Pegassi nodded, "I have only ever seen my mother fly off in that direction and would not make the journey thither until I was old enough to do likewise." He glanced over his shoulders at his quickening wings and said with a sigh, "alas that this unfortunate adventure has slowed my growth! It will be midwinter at least before I can fly and we cannot abide on the plain in such weather; we must therefore walk. I hope there are no insurmountable obstacles to earthbound travelers ere we reach journey's end." The boy nodded glumly and they turned towards the dawning. The colt had hoped to find some of his folk on the plateau but after his capture, they thought it unwise to linger so had quickly moved elsewhere, leaving only the wind sighing through the grasses to greet the exile upon his return.

The land became steeper, rockier, and forested as they traveled East, slowing their progress significantly but if a Pegassi could travel the distance easily in a day, it could not be that far, even if they were afoot. But the colt's dreaded insurmountable barrier stopped them in their tracks at midday of the second day since they left the plateau; a great river barred their way and it did not look to be easily crossed by those afoot for it flowed fast and cold over a bed of jagged rocks. It could neither be swum nor forded, their only choice was to move upstream towards the mountains where it had its birth and hope it narrowed or go downstream towards the distant sea and hope it widened and calmed as it journeyed thence. They did not want to climb northward into the mountains with winter coming and hoped the terrain south would be less steep and the climate a bit warmer if they were forced a great deal out of their way. The colt ruffled his half-grown wings in frustration, "alas, if only I could fly!" But he could not so the point was moot. They turned south.

They were many days upon the river's edge until at last they came to a place where the once might flow broadened over a bed of small stones and they could finally ford the river. They turned northeast as the weather turned chill and the wind bitter, but they felt themselves very nearly there and hoped to reach that mysterious country before the first snowfall. Tobin hoped there was something for mortal men to eat in the Pegassi's country, for as the year waned, foraging amongst bush and river would become harder. An abundance of nuts and berries and an occasional fish from the river had sustained him once he left the plateau but winter would prove a bitter foe unless he could find a sure source of provender and he was in desperate need of clothing more suited to the colder weather. He did not know what would come of his adventure once his friend was finally reunited with his kin, for he doubted the creatures had even the barest amenities for mortal man and winter was fast approaching.

Finally, finally, the colt let out a joyous scream one overcast afternoon as the wind was sending icy fingers deep into the boy's ragged summer garb; he had seen one of his long sundered kinsmen, but said kinsmen had also seen the boy on the verge of Pegassi territory and hastened to find the Elders that they might know of the trespasser. Men were no longer simply ignored within the bounds of the Pegassi's homeland and the Elders must do something about this bold intruder. The colt exchanged an eager glance with his friend and hastened his pace, Tobin did not complain, hoping that moving faster would warm his frozen frame.

The Elders were quickly fetched and hovered out of bow range for a few minutes as they studied the intruder, yes he carried a bow and was therefore much to be feared. Then they studied the horse with him and were astounded to see that it was one of their own youngsters, though far smaller and less developed than he should be at this time of the year. Could it be? They landed to confer privately and dispatched someone to fetch a certain bereaved mother. She was nearly desperate to approach the strange young Pegassi but the Elders warned her sternly, "his companion has a bow and is a danger to all our kind, and who knows what fell power he might possess to control the heart and mind of one of our own youngsters?"

Said she miserably, "what then are we to do?"

The Elders shook their heads grimly, "we must somehow disable the man before we approach this strange youngster."

She asked desperately, "how?" The shook their heads in perplexity, having no answer. Said she hopefully, "perhaps the youngling will come to us of his own accord and we need not approach the man?" The Elders looked doubtful but thought it their best hope.

The colt shook his head in consternation, "they have seen us, but why do they not come?"

Tobin said thoughtfully, "after your encounter with men, perhaps they are wary of my presence? Perhaps if you approached them alone?"

The colt nodded eagerly, "an excellent idea my friend! I shall not tarry long, await me here." He galloped off in the direction he had seen several of his kinsmen land. He soon found them gathered deep in grim council. They stared at him in astonishment, but he instantly recognized his mother and squealed joyously. She dashed to him and after an exuberant greeting, he told all his story. They goggled at both the cruelty and kindness of men.

Said the joyous mare, "what of your friend? Is he dangerous?"

The colt shook his head in amusement, "nay dear lady, he has been my friend and companion these many miles, even though he has nearly starved and frozen upon the way for my sake. Is there aught we can do for him?"

The Elders exchanged a grim look and the Eldest said, "after your abduction we changed our laws and now interaction with humankind is strictly forbidden. He must go his way and leave our lands as swift as may be."

The foal was aghast, "he saved my life and risked his upon this strange journey, can we do nothing to hasten his return to the lands of men? He will die upon the way if we turn him out with no food or protection against the cold."

The Eldest shook his head grimly, "I am sorry lad, but it cannot be. He should have thought of that ere setting forth. His lack of foresight is not our concern."

The colt looked towards his mother, "will you abandon him too?"

She shook her head grimly, her months' long heartache not having endeared humanity to her in the least and not wishing to dispute with the Elders, said she, "I am sorry my son, but your friend must face whatever fate awaits him. We can do nothing for him."

The colt screamed his frustration, rearing and pawing the air in consternation, "what if I go back to him and refuse to associate with so coldhearted a people?"

The Eldest shook his head, "you would be anathema among your own kin and would not long survive the coming winter as you are unable to fly."

The colt said grimly, "it seems mankind is not the only race to have a problem with cold and bitter hearts, the Pegassi too are so afflicted. I will not abandon the boy to his fate, even if all I can do is die alongside him."

The panicked mother stared at the Elders in desperation but they only shook their heads grimly, the colt must do as he felt he must and they would do as they must. She sighed heavily and said to her son, "must I lose you twice child?"

He said sadly as he turned to go, "only if you close your heart to those desperately in need of your aide. I will not repay his faithfulness with infidelity. Farewell mother."

She sighed deeply and said sadly, "things will be as they must, your time amongst men has ruined you. My son died the day he was taken from me and a stranger has returned with his face. I know you not. Who would choose a pointless death over the succor of his own people?"

The colt smiled sadly, "love is never vain, lady, I hope you all learn that one day. Farewell!" He was soon lost in the growing twilight, leaving his elders to stare after in wonder.

When he returned to the boy, night was falling and the temperature was dropping quickly. The boy was nearly frozen through and the smell of snow was heavy in the air. Said the colt sadly, "my people will do nothing to aid your plight and have said I am an exile and an outcast should I have anything more to do with you. So am I anathema to my own kin! But I will not abandon you, though I know there can be but one outcome."

Tobin's teeth chattered and his lips were blue as he said, "you cannot die here vainly beside me, friend! Return to your people, I will not hold it against you."

The colt snorted, "you stood beside me all this way, can I not abide faithfully with you in the little time that is left us?"

The boy saw that argument was pointless, the stubborn creature was set on his course. Instead of debating further, they sought what shelter they could beneath a great spruce; the colt lay down and draped one of his wings over the frigid boy who soon fell asleep, listening to the steady thump of his friend's heart. Without, the temperature plummeted, the wind howled, and the snow fell unabated for three days. The colt too fell into a deep sleep, from which he would never waken. It was a terrible winter, the worst in the memory of the Pegassi, and no thaw came until the spring, when they found the pair still curled up under the sheltering tree, greatly did such devotion touch the hearts of that flighty folk and much did they wonder what it might mean if all beating hearts could prove so true.

Still 'round the corner there may wait

A new road or secret gate;

And though I oft have passed them by,

A day will come at last when I

Shall take the hidden paths that run

West of the Moon, East of the Sun.

~J.R.R. Tolkien, 'The Road Goes Ever On'~

Beyond the Distant Hills

The great horse whinnied nervously; the knight looked around in dread, wondering what could cause the usually unflappable animal such unease. Such was its training that it did not flinch, even before dragons. The friendly light of eventide suddenly became the black of a storm-wracked night and all the whispered noises of a sylvan twilight were now as a tomb. A scornful female voice scoffed in the menacing silence, "well hero? What will come of you? Will you live or die? Will you ride upon my whims or shall the earth swallow you whole?"

The man shuddered, but knew to his very soul that he could never serve such a vile mistress, said he as boldly as terror allowed, "do your worst, fell lady, but I shall never serve such as thee." The only answer was her mocking laughter as the ground upon which the horse stood suddenly became treacherous as that of mire or fen. The horse screamed his terror but was soon silenced as they sank from the sight and knowledge of the mortal world.

There had never been such a cheerful, skipping child as Kylee who was more lark or sunbeam than daughter of men. Her joy it was to sing and dance through the wooded vales in mist and shadow, to whisper with the flowers of the garden when they were aglow with the morning sun, and to share secrets with the little birds that trilled in the hedges. Nor was she surprised to meet one day a creature as whimsical and joyous as herself, save this was a daughter of the fairies, rather than of mortal stock, but such were their similarities in interest and temper that it mattered not. So it was they traversed field and fen together, laughing with the brook and dancing in the mist of dawn, learning the language of violet and swallow. Kylee's parents would have been aghast to learn that she kept company with any fey creature, no matter how sweet of temper, but they took her tales to be just that: the invention of a young and innocent mind with too little interest in her own kind, but they could not contain this seemingly half-dryad creature without crushing her utterly so allowed her to gad about as she would, thinking she would one day outgrow such nonsense. But outgrow it she never would.

The years passed and this whimsical bud had blossomed into a fanciful maiden who still kept her secret trysts with her sister of fairykind, but had learned the wisdom of keeping silence upon the matter with those of mortal race. Upon a misty morn of rose and gold, Kylee met the fairy lass amidst the dew soaked lilies, but the creature seemed apprehensive, a mood in which the girl had never seen the irrepressibly gay creature before, said the fairy with trembling voice, "I bear dread tidings, my friend, but worse would it be if no one knew and nothing was done to prevent a great tragedy." Kylee was at her side in a moment, urging her to speak what she would, for it must be grim indeed to so upset a creature that might have been mirth incarnate. Continued she, "my sister, whose nature is quite opposite my own, has used her magic to coerce and entrap any number of men, warriors all, that they may do naught but her will, this to spare their lives. She intends to loose her vile slaves upon all the folk hereabouts, to rid the countryside of mortal men that she may rule as Queen and Lady thereof."

Kylee gasped, "can nothing be done?"

The fairy said grimly, "there is a chance but the cost is great."

Kylee's fear turned suddenly to a grim resolve, "speak dear friend, I will pay what price I must, if I can avail my folk."

The fairy swallowed a sob, but continued, "my sister has captured a number of knights, unwilling to do her will, in the process of acquiring those of a more vile nature that she has enslaved, these objectors may perhaps oppose her fell minions if they can be wakened from the sleep that lies heavy upon them. But to break the enchantment, one must be found who is willing to endure endless sleep that these others might waken."

Kylee nodded sadly, "I will try, what must I do?" The fairy flung herself into her friend's arms and wept as if her heart would break, but after she had cried herself into relative acceptance, she told the girl all she must do.

On the far side of the woods lay a wild land of moor and fen, amidst those hills was a cavern in which the knights slept as men in their tombs. Kylee set out immediately for that lonely heathland and the fairy vanished to distract her sister that she might not know of this threat to her plan until it was too late. The journey was uneventfully made and as night was falling, Kylee found herself upon a stony hillside beneath a sky of lowering grey clouds. An archway of stone stood black and ominous before her, like the mouth of death. She took a deep breath and marched into the doorway. There was a slight glow in the otherwise grim cavern for some sort of luminous fungus thrived therein. Upon each side lay a row of stone biers and upon each lay an unmoving knight, sword upon his breast, as one interred. She hastened to the far end of the seeming tomb and lay herself down upon the empty bier there and immediately fell into darkness.

A light glimmered in the doorway as the fairy entered to see what had come of her friend. The girl lay unmoving, pale as marble and cold as stone, upon her bier while all about the cavern, the sound of waking men and moving armor filled the air. The fairy's light and courage blazed forth as she called the blinking knights to arms and told them of all that had come to pass and what was yet to come. As one, they stared upon the sleeping form of the maiden with pity and wonder, vowing to waken her in turn once the grim fairy's minions were routed. They emerged from the cave and found their horses waiting and eager upon the side of the hill. Once they were mounted, a great light engulfed them all, and they vanished leaving the hillside to its lonely vigil.

The vile fairy unleashed her minions at full dark and intended none of her neighbors to see the morning, but her sister knew of her plans and sent her own knights to counter the plot. The fighting was fierce but the wakened knights were victorious and the evil fairy overthrown. The triumphant knights and their pixie captain surrounded the fell creature, who wore a look of haughty triumph even in defeat, scoffed she, "well met sister! A victory indeed, I did not think you had it in you, but what has it cost your dear little friend? She will never waken as long as the hills endure! You have salvaged the lives of those hereabouts but at what cost?" Her scornful laughter seemed to mock the rising dawn itself before she vanished into the whelming mist.

"What will come of her?" asked one of the Knights of the remaining fairy.

She shook her head and said, "she will likely get up to more mischief one day, but for now these folk might dwell in relative peace and safety."

Asked another Knight, "what of the sleeping maid? Did the fell lady speak truly about her fate?"

The fairy said sadly, "she paid the price willingly and without hesitation. But terrible is the price to free her from the enchantment; I do not know if any would be willing to pay that price, so she will likely sleep on until the world itself becomes naught but legend."

"What then is the price?" asked the first Knight.

Said she, "one must journey to the far, distant hills that rim the very edge of the world. There grows a flower that is said to cure even death itself, but the price to pick them is great. The hand that plucks them must then cross the hills and leave the world behind. What lies beyond, none knows, but that is the price."

There was much murmuring among the Knights, for they had not reckoned on such a cost. They had thought to fight monsters or fell men, to make a great journey and bold vows, but in the end to return triumphant. But this? To make the effort and never see the result; to strive and never return more? The cost was too much, the price too dear. One by one, they turned away with many fine words and much regret; the fairy wretchedly watched them go, but knew it better that they never attempt the journey than to have their hearts and courage fail at the last. All the men of renown and valor abandoned her that day, but the least of them all, a mere page, remained behind. She eyed the boy with grim hope, "and would you risk this thing when all your elders will not?"

The boy shrugged, "if none else will, that leaves only me. I will go." He frowned, "how then are these flowers to reach the lady if I am not to return?"

Laughed she for joy, "I will accompany you lad and bear them back to she that sleeps."

The boy nodded grimly, "then we had best be on our way." She laughed in relief and joy as the boy mounted his horse and set forth into the dawning. As they traveled, asked he, "could you not pluck these flowers to save your friend?"

She looked sadly upon the boy and shook her head gravely, "nay lad, for my kind is not allowed beyond the confines of this world, only mortal man has that doom and that joy." The boy nodded, but seemed perplexed by her words, but there was naught she could say to enlighten him, for it was just the way matters stood and was perhaps beyond mortal comprehension.

She could not harvest the flowers herself, but she could certainly help the boy in other ways and much did she ease the tedium and difficulty of travel with her magical talents and companionship, until at last, after a rather uneventful and relatively pleasant journey, they arrived upon the hills that bordered the verge of the world. It was a charming land of rolling hills, wide meadows, laughing brooks, and bright woodlands, but to the East there was no horizon of boundless blue sky, but rather a perpetual mist that seemed aglow with the new risen sun. Said she, "thence must you go once you have plucked the flowers."

He studied the mist and some part deep within yearned above all else to discover its secrets. He smiled at her tremulously, "and where grow these wondrous plants?"

She smiled and pointed to the mist, "in the very vapor of the mist do they abide." They walked slowly towards the verge and a wondrous scent filled the air.

He sighed with great eagerness, "they smell sweeter than life itself!"

"Aye," said she, "and so will they drive away even the shadow of death. But come, the time is at hand. Does your courage fail you even now?"

Laughed he for very joy, "nay lady, I long to plunge in and see what waits Beyond, if this is the mere border, what must lie at the heart?"

A bittersweet smile touched her lips, "I envy you son of man, for such I shall not know while this world lasts."

They drew to the very edge and he reached into the mist, taking up a humble clump of what looked to be no more exotic a flower than what was commonly called lily-of-the-valley. He smiled and tried to draw his arm back from the mist, but could not withdraw it; he looked to the fairy in concern, said she, "you must fully enter the mist and then hand me the flowers from within its confines. Do not go too far in or you and the flowers will be lost to the mortal world!" He nodded and a look of joyous determination entered his eyes as he took that first fateful step. His heart gave a strange quiver as the mist fully enfolded him but he knew he could now hand off the flowers. She smiled with a strange mix of joy and sadness and took the proffered bouquet. He smiled wondrously and vanished deeper into the mists and beyond all knowledge of men. The fairy looked wistfully after the vanished boy, but then remembering her errand, vanished herself back to her ever slumbering friend.

She suddenly appeared in that grim cave and the scent of the flowers sent the shadow of death flying from its confines. Kylee sat up as one long abed upon a joyous morning and smiled wonderingly at her friend. The fairy then imparted all the tale causing Kylee's countenance to fall, especially at what it had cost the valiant lad on her behalf. Said the fairy wistfully, "you need not mourn over much for him I think, he rejoiced in his fate ere he vanished from my sight."

Kylee smiled sadly and then asked curiously, "what then lies beyond all this? Perhaps I should venture thither and see for myself!"

The fairy smiled knowingly, "nay child, for all men must take that path one day, but none should seek it ere their time. It was a needful thing that sent him thus, but you must bide here awhile and see what life yet holds for you. Your tale is not yet done."

Laughed the girl, "I cannot abide a half told tale, you are right my friend, that day will come soon enough, but I must finish one tale before I begin another." They linked hands and walked joyfully from the cave out into the glorious day, as from death into life.

Hiding in the shadows,

From the light of day,

In the secret places,

Where the fairies play.

~Wood Violet~

Though here at journey's end I lie

In darkness buried deep,

Beyond all towers strong and high,

Beyond all mountains steep,

Above all shadows rides the Sun

And Stars for ever dwell:

I will not say the Day is done,

Nor bid the Stars farewell.

~J.R.R. Tolkien, 'Journey's End'~

Strange the Paths of Fate

It was a small sleepy village like any other and most of its unassuming residents would never make it into song or story, but alas for our protagonist, for such was not to be his fate, which means his life was about to get far more interesting than was usually the wont of his folk. As this story begins, he was as common a boy as can be found in such a place and time and was going about his life in the most ordinary fashion imaginable. He wanted to get married, which was a common affliction of people his age in those days, but he had no means of supporting a family and thus could not speak his intentions to his lady of choice. Often he pondered how to overcome this difficulty and tried to discern some feasible way of making a living, but ever the inspiration and opportunity eluded him. His heart sank when he thought he might have to leave the village and seek his fortune in the wide world, but there seemed no other choice if he was ever to realize his hopes. He had just come to this depressing conclusion and was wondering how to tell his beloved of his plans, when another option presented itself in the guise of a mysterious lady.

She swept into the common room of the inn as if she owned the establishment and told the proprietor exactly what she needed by way of a midday repast. So cowed and astonished was he, that he made no complaints but slunk timidly back to his kitchen and began making preparations to humor the lady. She glanced about the nearly empty room with a contemptuous indifference when her eyes fell upon our hero, who was sitting quietly at a distant table rehearsing how best to break the news of his upcoming departure to his lady. Snapped she, "boy!"

Corvin looked up in astonishment, having thought he was alone save for the innkeeper. He reddened and hastened to her, bowing awkwardly as one unused to the practice, said he meekly, "how may I help you madam?"

She looked him up and down, as if he were a goose she meant to purchase, said she, "I need a dependable lad to accompany me for a time, to run errands and wait upon me and the like. Would you be such a lad?"

The boy's eyes widened in disbelief, as if his prayers had been answered in the guise of this icy vision; to have a place and a position already defined upon leaving the village rather than going off alone into the great unknown with no destination or plan and hoping it might all work out somehow was miracle indeed! He blushed to his toes, bowed deeply, and mumbled, "that I am madam. What would you have of me?"

She smiled patronizingly, "very good. We shall leave as soon as I have finished my noon meal. You have until then to gather your things and bid farewell to your folk. You will agree to do whatever I ask of you and ask no questions. If you hesitate or disobey, I reserve the right to punish you as I will. You will accompany me for two years and at the end of that time, shall be free to go as you wish or, if mutually acceptable you may continue in my service. I will reward you well at the end of your service and provide for your daily needs until then. Serve poorly and you will regret it sorely. Are we agreed?"

The boy pondered these things for a long moment, unsure how he felt about such a disdainful mistress or doing as he was bidden without question or hesitation, but then the more utilitarian side of him thought how fortunate he was to have this opportunity suddenly thrust upon him. She seemed a lady after all, and no true lady could ever ask her servant to do anything illegal or immoral. And if she was a little harsh, was that not expected among the aristocracy? Besides, it was only two years and then he would have a bit of money to start himself in either farming or some trade and then he could fulfill the desires of his heart! He took a deep breath, suppressed that part of himself that shrieked a warning to beware the frigid woman before him, and said as boldly as he could, "we are agreed madam."

She smiled scornfully, "very well. Meet me in the stableyard in one hour. Do not bother packing anything, as it will only serve as an encumbrance. If you cannot carry it on your person, you will not need it. I shall see that all else is provided." He bowed again as a quiver ran down his spine, though whether of eagerness or fear, he knew not which. She obviously ignored him and rather uninterestedly looked out the window instead. He dashed off to inform all and sundry of his luck, though he could not yet decide whether it was good or ill.

His lady bid him farewell with tears, though a hope shone forth in the depths of her eyes, that at last he might speak that which she most longed to hear, but he could not ask it of her until he was sure of his own future, said he, "lady, you know I love you more than life itself, and as such, I cannot ask you to promise yourself to me until I am worthy of you. When I return and have the means to support us both, then and only then may I speak as I so greatly desire. Farewell!" She nodded sadly but swallowed her sorrow that it not pain him more during their sundering. He smiled weakly, but was eager for their meeting two years hence, and this alone gave him strength enough to leave her. He returned home and said farewell to his parents and numerous siblings, took up a few loose items that might be useful or meaningful upon the way, and hurried back to the inn for his appointment with destiny.

He was a little early, but the lady had finished her mediocre meal and was impatient to be upon her way so berated him even so, "you will appear when I want you. If tardiness is going to be a habit with you, I shall dismiss you this moment!"

Said he contritely, "forgive me madam, I am usually punctual and you will not find me lax in my duties again."

She sniffed derisively but seemed content, "very well, now go to the innkeeper and see if he has a decent set of tack to spare."

Corvin vanished inside and soon emerged with the portly fellow, who rubbed his hands together in eagerness but wore a rather timid look, said he, "I do not have anything befitting a lady of your status, madam, but I do have some very serviceable gear. Are you also in need of a horse?"

"Never mind that," snapped she, "show me what you have."

He showed her his meager collection of worn, but usable equipment and she selected what she would. She paid him well for her purchase and asked if she might leave all but the bridle in his keeping for a few moments while she fetched her horse and also that one of his stable lads might be of use to her in saddling said beast. Said he in some surprise, "certainly madam, but I thought that was why you had hired the boy here, to be of use in such tasks?"

Snarled she, "I will do with my servants as it pleases me and need not be questioned by the likes of you. He has other tasks to which he must attend and I would hope my generosity in purchasing what I have of you would be repaid in kind."

The man flushed and mumbled contritely, "forgive me madam, forgive my foolish tongue! It shall be as you say, I should know better than to question my betters. I only thought you might want your own servant to see to your comfort, that was all." She stared stonily at him, he bobbed his head with a nervous squawk and vanished into the stable seeking after one of his own lads to see to her horse once it arrived.

She turned icy eyes to Corvin, "come, and do not be such a fool as he and ask questions unbidden, or it will be the worse for you." She stalked off and the boy trailed meekly after. They left the village and the boy wondered where she was to get a horse, as there was no farm or stable upon the small winding road they were taking, it was only the path to the upper meadows where the sheep were kept in summer and veritably abandoned this early in the spring. She stopped suddenly and asked, "are we like to be disturbed here?" The boy shook his head and a cruel smile touched her lips, "now learn a part of your service to me, but remember to ask no questions and to balk not at that which shall be asked of you." She spoke in a fell tongue and Corvin's heart quailed in terror.

Some minutes later, the lady returned to the village down that winding path leading a dapple stallion by the reins, the creature's eyes rolled in confusion and astonishment but he seemed placid as an aged gelding as his mistress led him into the stableyard of the inn. As agreed, one of the grooms tacked up the beast and then handed the lady into her saddle. A triumphant smirk graced her lips as she turned the beast and rode out of town, leaving the locals to wonder at the lady herself and where she had gotten such a horse and what had come of Corvin. None of their suppositions brought them any comfort, but only a chill feeling of dread that they could not explain.

No questions indeed! What a fool he had been, perhaps still was to be serving a sorceress thus, but what choice did he have? If he ever wished to be anything but a horse, it depended upon the whims of she who sat upon his back, and he had agreed to this service, if in a general sort of way. He should have heeded that part of him that cried out in horror at the very thought of serving such a mistress, but such was now his plight and he must deal with it as best he could. They trotted on for most of the day and only as evening drew on did they wander off the road into a secluded glade, wherein the enchantress worked her fell powers again and he was a boy once more. Said she, "this then is your service to me, serve me in whatever guise and errand I set you and you shall do well, disobey or hesitate and you will feel my wrath. Agreed?" The boy stared at her with terror filled eyes but he nodded. "Good," said she with a contemptuous smile, "now there is an inn ahead. Go forth and procure me a room and a meal. Off with you." The boy blinked for a moment in surprise but then dashed off as quickly as his legs could carry him. She followed slowly after with a gloating smile on her face.

He attended her whilst she ate, hastened about a few more errands on her behalf, and then she bid him go outside the inn and return in a few minutes. He looked a question at her, but thought the better of it and hied himself into the night. A few minutes later, a great dog stood at the inn door, whimpering to be let in. His mistress was waiting and let the beast enter, saying to the innkeeper, "see that he gets a few bones and let him lie by the fire." Said she more to the dog than her host, "he will ward me and the inn from any disturbance in the night." The dog whimpered pathetically but lay resignedly down in the indicated place.

So it continued for over a year, the lady traveled from place to place upon her own unspoken errands while Corvin served her however she asked it of him. Often he thought ruefully to himself, that she treated him no worse than such a harsh lady of any sort might treat her servants, besides for the strange matter of the different guises he was wont to wear. So he served her faithfully, neither hesitated nor disobeyed, and never asked questions. She never seemed pleased with his service but neither did she often criticize or reprimand, which for her must mean she found his service satisfactory. He longed for the day when he would be free of her and able to resume some semblance of a normal human existence, for never was he found in human form except when she had need of a servant or errand boy, otherwise he was almost always a horse by day and a dog by night, the latter costing less to maintain than either horse or servant.

One day as they stopped for a meal at midday in a pleasant glade beside a chattering brook, the lady gasped in outrage. The horse looked up from his grazing and blinked in surprise, for they were not alone in the clearing. A desperate waif of humankind had crept from the edge of the forest and was silently going through the momentarily forgotten saddlebags, looking for anything that might aid his meager existence. The woman snarled the now familiar fell words that would restore the boy to his human form, and hissed, "destroy this impudent wretch who dares trifle with my belongings!"

Corvin had a dagger at his belt and the thin, wasted child before him was no match for even such an inexperienced foe. But the boy's heart pitied this poor wretch who was slowly starving and an outcast from all kith and kin. His hesitation brought the witch's wrath to bear upon himself, said she in grim warning, "I bid you act, will you dare defy me and risk the consequences?"

Corvin shook his head, "do your worst madam, I will not raise my hand against so desperate a child of men nor any other innocent whom your fury deems worthy of destruction."

She stared at him in wonder, as if she had never seen him before, but then said with cold indifference, "very well, you have earned whatever I deem to be your fate. Come, I want to make the next village by nightfall." During the exchange the terrified orphan had vanished into the surrounding woods and her fury with him. She said her fell words, mounted the now dejected horse, and rode off into the sunny afternoon, saying placidly, "this then is your doom: tomorrow I shall sell you to the first interested party in the horse markets yonder and never more shall you wear the guise of mortal man." For the first time in their acquaintance, she laughed, and it was not a pleasant sound. He resigned himself to his fate, for he knew she had neither mercy nor pity marring her soul, at least he would not be left to wonder at her revenge. He wondered if sparing so meager a life could be worth his own, but that same inner whisper that had once cried out in horror at serving such a mistress, though appalled at his own fate, did not repine his choice, regardless of the consequences. He sighed deeply but bore his mistress faithfully upon their last ride together, wondering what his beloved would do when he never returned more. For the first and last time, she stabled the beast that night and upon the morrow led him out into the thronging bustle of a market day.

True to her word, she offered the creature to the first dealer of horseflesh with whom she chanced to meet. He eyed the animal skeptically, thinking there must be more that the woman was not saying. Here was a fine, well-trained, and compliant animal and the woman was determined to be rid of it. What was the catch? Said he in some consternation, "madam, never have I seen such a fine specimen with an owner so adamant that I take the beast off their hands. What hidden fault are you trying so desperately to be rid of with none the wiser?"

She smiled, sweetly as she though, but looked more like she had a toothache, "he is only a bit stubborn on occasion. I tire of the beast and am in the market for another."

He eyed the stallion incredulously, "I still do not believe you. I'll take him, but at half the price you offered, I may have to get him gelded if he is such a handful as you claim and that is a trouble and expense I would rather avoid."

Her smile deepened cruelly as she replied, "very well, you should probably do just that."

"We'll see," said the man grimly as he counted out her money. The horse looked on the verge of panic as this conversation was going on, but thankfully the man did not like the woman whatsoever and seemed far more inclined to do just the opposite of whatever she recommended. She turned one last, vile smile upon the unfortunate beast and vanished into the swirling crowds. The merchant turned to the horse and said, "well beastie, you had yourself a very foul mistress, I pity you that, but I will not hold her words against you. I'll give you a chance to prove yourself before we do anything regrettable."

"Ho, there! Merchant!" the man turned from the beast to see who was hailing him, covering his astonishment with a genuine smile.

"What can I do for you my Lord?" asked the horse dealer.

"I like the look of that beast, how much do you want for him?" asked the noble young man.

The man could not cover his astonishment and said, "I hardly know, my Lord, he has just come into my possession and I cannot vouch for his health, training, soundness, or temper."

Said the young Prince with an eager grin, "I will assume all the risk then." He named a price twice that of what the merchant had hoped and was soon in possession of the beast. He climbed aback his new purchase and slowly waded through the throng of people, leaving the merchant to gape and then rejoice in the events of the day.

The young Prince met his entourage at an inn on the edge of town and they gawked at his purchase and the price thereof. To them it was a fine, but rather unremarkable grey horse, but the Prince felt he had somehow done something quite grand, if he could not say exactly what. Against the better judgment of his companions and even himself, he had felt a great urge to go into the very heart of the teeming market that morning upon quest unknown, but the moment he had seen the horse, he knew he must own the beast. With the day still young before them, all felt it time to return home and they set off with a good will, if a bit perplexed as to the strange addition to their party. Corvin, quite grateful to the enigmatical young lord he now bore, rejoiced in this sudden change in his otherwise grim destiny and showed the young man that he was no common sort of horse. By the time they returned to the castle, the entire party knew that this was perhaps the most wondrous horse ever foaled, though little enough did they know he never had been.

The horse bore his master faithfully wherever he had a mind to go and the Prince would far rather walk than be found astride any other beast. Whether upon a journey of state, in grand procession, in pursuit of game, in the joust, or upon a pleasurable jaunt, ever did the creature bear him with grace and skill heretofore unknown to unthinking beast. Even when war loomed and battle called, so too did Corvin bear his master upon the path of death and sword. The King slain, but his Kingdom triumphant, now Corvin bore the newly crowned King upon the ways of peace.

Some months after he had laid his father in the grave and finalized peace with his warring neighbors, the new King stood in the stableyard of the castle with his faithful steed at his side, said he, "if only I could find a wife as faithful as thee, my dear, strange friend." The horse reared and tossed his head in excitement and the King stared at the beast, as if he feared him mad. But it was not fury but eagerness that tinged his screams. The King felt a very great desire to mount the suddenly fey beast, the same urging he had felt the propitious day of their meeting. He shook his head ruefully, but dared not deny this great urging of horse and heart, and flung himself into the saddle. The horse dashed off into the rising morn with all the speed he possessed. They ran madly out of the city and off into the golden mists of dawn, where the King doubted not some fairy maiden waited his coming.

It was no fairy maiden or even an elfin city that the King found later that day, it was simply a village as ordinary as any other, but therein dwelt a maid of equal heart to that of his wonderful beast. Corvin knew he could never marry his beloved, but he also knew his master to be a man of great heart, compassion, and sense and that his onetime lady could not find a better husband nor the Kingdom a better Queen. They stopped outside the lady's door and the King dismounted, quite perplexed but strangely eager. He eyed the horse curiously and the beast gave him an encouraging shove with his head. His Majesty shook his head and smiled ruefully, but knocked boldly upon the door; it was answered by a comely young woman, whose eyes held some secret sorrow momentarily superseded by astonishment, to find the King upon her doorstep. Corvin's heart smote him sore, that the lady was so consumed with grief at his continued absence and wished somehow to ease her heart, but perhaps new love was the only answer to such sorrow. Quite awkwardly, she asked His Highness to come in if he would.

The King was smitten almost from the first with this beautiful, sweet creature, and her silent agony became a foe he was determined to fight and rescue her from, as if it were a dragon that held her captive. He came, day after day, and listened as she poured out her heart or they talked quietly together of many things as they walked in the summer glories of wood and meadow. It had been five years since her beloved had gone away and never more had she heard of him; at last she was forced to lay aside all her maiden hope of his returning and found herself at last free of the enforced old age of grief and sorrow and again a joyous young maid, free to live and to love, as no promise but disappointed love bound her to her lost beloved. Corvin's heart both ached and rejoiced at the budding romance, but he knew her love could not be his nor should she be bound to one who would never return. She grew as fond of the uncanny horse as her royal suitor, and in this Corvin rejoiced. They were soon married and the whole Kingdom marveled at the match, but rejoiced to learn she was such a fair and gracious lady, though a peasant born.

The years passed and ever did that faithful steed bear his lord, his lady, and all their many children whither they would. The eldest Prince was often abroad on the exciting but rather trifling adventures that are the essence of life itself to all young creatures under the sun. On one such foray, he and the faithful beast strayed into a wild and forbidden part of the realm on an errand now quite forgotten but whose results lived on in the young man's memory for the rest of his life. For here there be bandits and other lawless men who dared not show their faces in the more civilized parts of the realm. And into a party of such outlaws did the intrepid pair ride and just as quickly turn tail and flee back the way they had come. The scofflaws poured insults and arrows after the fugitives but Corvin's great heart bore him up even as the arrows embedded in his flesh tried to pull him down, but he would not abandon his young master to death or worse at the hands of those that pursued them.

Finally ahead, he glimpsed a company in the colors of the King's guard and at last he could go no further. He collapsed to the earth, breathing harshly and flinging the hapless boy from the saddle, but the guards rushed upon him, one bearing him to safety while the others gave chase to the murderous vagabonds who had pursued him. The boy cried out in despair to be sundered from his failing beast but they dared not risk the boy's safety and carried him mercilessly back to the castle where his parents welcomed him tearfully home, but soon bemoaned the grim fate of the faithful creature themselves and rode out with all haste to see what had come of the matter once the renegades were dealt with. The entire Kingdom thought the King as mad as his onetime companions had thought him, the day an errant thought sent him into a market village in search of a remarkable horse, when he ordered that the beast be interred among the graves of all his Royal forebears and the Royal family gathered to mourn its passing.

The horse lay dying and momentarily forgotten as the young Prince was borne to safety and the bandits were pursued. A light engulfed the stricken beast, at least to his own perception though none standing about would have witnessed anything odd, and a great, compassionate voice said, "faithful heart, would you live on in this mortal world as the wisest and fairest of creatures that go on four legs or would you pass beyond the shadows of this world and come again into the inheritance of men, though long have you been sundered from your kindred?" The beast could not speak but the voice knew the secret language of heart and soul, the meaning of all silent words. He was tired, so dreadfully tired, his had been a meaningful life, one of purpose and joy, but to his very soul he was a man, had always been, would always be, regardless of his physical form. And with no little joy, he doffed his weary mortal coil and slipped beyond the shadows.

Old chairs to mend! Old chairs to mend!

I never would cry old chairs to mend,

If I'd as much money as I could spend,

I never would cry old chairs to mend.

~Nursery Rhyme~

If Only...

Tom sat disconsolately on his doorstep, wondering what was the point of life. He was neither rich nor terribly handsome; he had no great prospects before him, just to continue in the footsteps of all his forefathers and till the bit of earth that had been in their family since time immemorial, or at least since his great-great-grandfather was a boy, which was basically the same thing. There was nothing wrong with farming, it was a respectable living, but he would never be rich and there was also a good chance of things getting very tight now and again should the rain not come or a blight appear. He sighed heavily, wishing with all his heart for some way out of his current predicament. And as in all fairy tales, his wish soon attracted the attention of a well-meaning fairy: the pesky creatures are drawn to wishes like moths to flame.

She settled quite prettily upon his knee and peered up at him with merrily dancing but not very wise eyes. A smile came unbidden to his troubled young face as he realized this mirthful creature might give him all the desires of his heart. Said she without preamble, in a voice like a baby's laugh, "you wish to be all things that you are not? I cannot bear to see a young creature unhappy, happiness is the province of youth so I must restore you to your native soil. Let it be as you wish it!" She smiled cheekily at him and vanished in a rosy flash of light. Tom stood, stretched, and eagerly went back into the house to pack, knowing full well that his dreams had only just begun.

His family was just sitting down to dinner when he walked past, satchel on his back. His mother smiled knowingly and shook her head ruefully; his father momentarily took his pipe out of his mouth in curiosity but soon enough went back to his puffing. Said Tom, with near giddiness, "well, my fortune is assured and I am off to seek it." They all wished him well, knowing this strange wandering sickness was a common affliction of boys his age, and also knowing the cure was to let him have his head and discover that the wide world was a far harsher place than the stories fully told. He would be back before a fortnight was over. His sensible mother did insist that he at least wait until after dinner to go forth and seek his destiny and saw that he was well stocked with provender to last him a week or so. As the sun was now setting, he decided to wait until the morrow and leave after a filling breakfast.

But his wish was not to be, as he had failed to go forth and seize his good fortune by the horns, it sensibly came a-knocking in search of him. In the twilight, a very short but richly clad man stood upon the doorstep, when his mother answered the summons, and asked very grandly whether 'Young Master Tom' would kindly accompany him. Tom happily snatched up his satchel, kissed his mother in passing, and was gratified to see his father's pipe drop to the floor in his utter astonishment. He waved a farewell and was handed up into the lavish coach that stood waiting; the smartly clad herald doing his best not to sniff at the lad's sturdy but unfashionable peasant garb. Nothing so mortified his stuffy heart as seeing a socialite so improperly attired. He shut the door and launched himself onto the back of the vehicle as it set off into the night. Tom held his satchel in his lap and stared dreamily off into space, imagining what grandeur and wonder awaited at journey's end.

He must have dozed off, for the pallid grey and rose of dawn had transformed the misty, waking world into a dream when he woke. The clatter of the horses suddenly ceased as the coach drew up before a great and beautiful house; the wee little man was immediately at the door and waiting for the boy to descend. Tom clutched his satchel and stepped from the equipage, feeling all of a sudden very lonely and small before the intimidating structure. The servant pretended not to notice his discomfiture and motioned for him to follow him into the house. Tom obeyed and they found themselves in a room whose sole purpose appeared to be the scrubbing and cleansing of dirty aristocrats. Tom was duly washed and outfitted in apparel far more satisfying to the Steward's taste and was then allowed to eat a meal that was called breakfast, but to Tom's sensibilities it seemed far grander than any King's feast.

Once the necessities were finished, the Steward asked if his lordship had a moment to become acquainted with his new situation. Tom heartily agreed, having no idea exactly what it was he found himself in the middle of, save that it was thanks to a fairy's well-intentioned meddling. They went to the library where Tom was seated by the fire in a monstrous, velvet chair while the Steward stood politely at his elbow, speaking thus, "welcome home Sir, we are most grateful that you have finally arrived. We have been keeping up the Residence as instructed by your predecessors in anticipation of your arrival. And I hope you find everything far exceeding your expectations. You are Lord and Master of all the land hereabouts within a day's hard ride; it is to do with as you please."

Tom smiled broadly and asked, "how is it I am Lord here, peasant that I am?"

The Steward shook his head gravely, "that is a matter into which we mere servants dare not inquire. We are here to serve, not question." He bowed stiffly and asked, "what are your first orders, my Lord?"

Tom shook his head, "I have never been a Lord before and am quite a stranger in this place, what is a usual day like?"

The Steward said awkwardly, little liking the position of having to explain anything to one of his 'betters,' "we are at your service Sir, ask and we shall obey. The only thing routine or usual in this house shall be that which you proclaim to be so."

Tom said in wonder, "whatever I say goes? Have I no duties or responsibilities?"

The Steward shook his head, "that you alone know, again it is not ours to question but simply to obey."

Said Tom in impish delight, "then I want to host a ball, the most extravagant the neighborhood has ever seen, to celebrate my arrival. Can you invite a princess or three?"

The Steward bowed eagerly, "would tonight be acceptable, sir?"

Tom stared, "really? That soon!"

The Steward seemed rather insulted, "of course, my Lord, we are always ready for whatever you might wish or propose."

Tom shook his head in wonder, "very well, tonight will be perfect. I would like to tour the grounds during the balance of the day."

The Steward bowed and said, "very good Sir." He then vanished from the room, leaving Tom to himself. He smiled eagerly, knowing this was only the beginning. He went to the stable and ordered his horse, which turned out to be a sleek, high-spirited but willing beast. He mounted eagerly and rode about until he was truly sick of viewing the immaculately landscaped grounds, the impeccable woods, and the tidy farmsteads that dotted his domain. The villages were something out of a storybook and he was certain that nothing of note had or would ever happen therein. It all seemed too perfect.

A groom took the sweaty horse and a servant waited to escort him back to the bath chamber to expunge the evidence of his ride. And then it was on to a sumptuous late lunch before preparing for the evening's excitement. He was primped and dandied and dressed until he was ready to scream, but the result was impressive. He descended to the ballroom and the Steward told him that his guests had arrived and were waiting his pleasure, with no less than five princesses in attendance. Agape, the young lord allowed himself to be herded to his place and tried to remember names as he was introduced to half the population of the planet. Afterwards, he danced with anyone vaguely human and female in attendance that was ranked above a lady's maid. After that, they sat down to a feast grand enough to bankrupt a King, before resuming their dancing. Exhausted and bewildered, His Lordship crawled gratefully into bed as the sun was again gracing the sky.

The Steward interrupted his repose to politely remind His Lordship that he had promised to go hunting with several of the young men he had met at the ball the previous evening. Tom groaned but allowed himself to be duly prepared for the outing. His companions laughed and talked ceaselessly, about what, Tom could not fathom but he joined in with a hollow laugh and a fake smile. Priding himself on having survived the day, he hoped to go early to bed, but the Steward reminded him that he had promised a visit to a neighboring Lord that evening in recompense for the ball. Tom sighed but again resigned himself to his fate. So it was that days passed into weeks and then into months, and ever was Tom visiting or being visited by various royal or noble personages, all with painted smiles and empty laughter, saying nothing worth remembering an hour hence. Worse, every unmarried girl old enough to be out in public, some older than his mother, flung herself or was flung by various mothers, aunts, and sisters into his way. For one always surrounded by people, he found himself very much alone.

Finally, one bright day in the early autumn, he told his Steward that he wanted a day off from the continual merriment and was going for a ride. The Steward was aghast that his master would flout tradition and ignore his many invitations and guests, but would not dare defy a direct order. So it was that young Tom rode off while the Steward hastily wrote elaborate and insincere excuses to all those who would soon be affronted by such unseemly behavior.

Tom galloped off into the burgeoning day, refreshed by the stillness of the world about him and the chill in the air. An hour later, he dismounted and led the weary beast to a small stream in the midst of a meadow in which a flock of sheep was grazing peacefully at the far end. He watched the young shepherdess with some envy as she quietly tended her charges, as yet unaware of the stranger in her meadow; he thought wistfully back to his own rustic duties, what seemed a lifetime ago. Suddenly, her tranquility was shattered as she noticed the richly garbed youth and well-bred horse that had invaded her pastoral refuge. She bowed nervously, still at a great distance, and hastily gathered up her sheep, intent on driving them to a pasture where they would not disturb His Lordship. Tom sighed mournfully, mounted his horse, and rode slowly out of the meadow, leaving the lady to her sheep.

As he passed a small cottage in his retreat, a sudden whimsical smile lit his face, the first real smile he had borne in many days; he turned in at the gate and knocked upon the door. The aged woman who answered his summons stared at him in surprise and dread, bowed inexpertly, and said graciously, if with a nervous trill, "what may I do for you Lord?"

Tom grinned foolishly, "I wish to make an exchange madam. Have you a horse and a set of clothes to trade for my own?"

She stared at him in incomprehension, "nay lord, I have but a poor beast and only the rough garb of my late husband, I have nothing that would be of service or worth to you!"

He nodded eagerly, "exactly madam, that is what I wish. Take my finery and give me your serviceable items in their stead."

She shook her head in wonder but motioned for him to come in. She spent a little time rummaging in drawer and trunk while he sipped hastily brewed tea, but finally she produced some plain, but well made clothes that would fit the lad reasonably well. He left the tired, but expensive horse in the small lean-to that served as barn and stable and mounted the aged sorrel gelding that had once pulled cart and plow. He told the good lady in parting, "keep or sell what I have given you madam, whatever serves you best! Farewell." He turned the ancient beast and plodded back towards the meadow where the shepherdess waited with her sheep.

The appearance of a peasant lad did not frighten the poor lass, as had the daunting vision of a nobleman in the distance. She even went so far as to share her noon meal with him once she was convinced he was simply a weary traveler rather than either villain or lord. They shared a merry meal together and spoke of her stock, the weather, village gossip, her kin, and the crops. As the sun was setting, Tom was reluctant to leave, having had a real conversation for the first time since his advent into this strange reality and feeling again as if he were a mortal man, rather than a puppet that wandered purposelessly from one grand entertainment to the next. The girl saw his unease and misinterpreting it said, "come home with me, my father would gladly put you up for the night and my mother will have a good supper on the table." He smiled gratefully at her and accompanied her home, showing himself well accustomed to the practice as he helped her gather up the scattered flock for the night.

The Steward watched intently all the day and well into the night, but the boy never returned. He sighed heavily and knew that his Lordship was forever lost to them, as had so many been before him. He went to tell the other servants to put the house in order that they might await their next ephemeral Lord. Tom eventually married the shepherdess and returned to his unassuming life, now quite content therein. The insipid but well-meaning fairy continued to grant wishes, that for some reason never quite brought their recipients the joy and meaning they had anticipated, but rather taught them to appreciate that which they already had, which was truly a wish come true.

_A cloud was on the mind of men,_

and wailing went the weather,

Yea, a sick cloud upon the soul

When we were boys together.

~G.K. Chesterton, 'The Man Who Was Thursday'~

Come What May

They had ridden into the village with the dawning, a great Knight and his retainers, his armor stained crimson in the rising morn. Curiosity drew the entire town and most of its outlying residents to gather upon the green and gape at the fellow as if they had never seen a stranger before. True, the village was rather small and remote, but merchants and travelers still found their way thither on a regular basis, but true warriors and heroes never ventured into such a place. The ladies brought out various food stuffs and everyone changed into their holiday best; soon it was a veritable festival while the Knight stood in their midst regaling one and all with many a tale of his daring do. The village boys eyed his companions with envy, wishing they too could be on the road to adventure and renown. A slight smile and a knowing look sparkled in the Knight's eyes as he saw the thoughtful look upon the face of almost every lad in the village, knowing how his stories enthralled their young and eager hearts, he continued to pour out his tales. At last, he stopped for breath and food, and the villagers assaulted him with their myriad questions and glowing admiration. He answered as he might and watched his audience keenly, gaging the appropriate moment to set the hook.

At last, he felt the time had come and he sprung the trap, "I suppose there might be a youth or two in this village with the courage and heart to set forth in quest of adventures unknown, to return himself one day a hero and man of renown?" The mothers in the crowd blanched in fear, the fathers smiled proudly, the girls cheered eagerly, and almost every lad burst into exuberant shouts that he was just such a lad. The Knight let the furor die down and continued, "very well, any and all who think themselves possessed of the necessary mettle can accompany me." The cheers resumed and he set about telling them what would be needed for the upcoming journey.

Only one lad did not share in the joy of the occasion, Tabor stood in the shadows of the forge and watched his fellows and the stranger with a sad, quiet resignation. The boy was of a sickly and weak disposition, his widowed mother had recently died, making him an orphan as well. He was tolerated by his folk, but no more could be said of his situation. The lads his own age made his life a torment and the girls would have nothing to do with him, save to laugh among themselves when they thought he was not looking. Of all the folk in the village, he had the least holding him there, but such a valiant hero certainly would not want such a pathetic creature tagging along in his wake. So the boy hid in the shadows, watched his fellows with a breaking heart, and wondered what his own future might hold.

A quiet, heartening voice interrupted his thoughts and said unexpectedly beside him, "why are you not intending to head off into the wild unknown with all your peers lad?"

The boy stared at the second stranger in befuddlement, who was this that would deign to speak to him? The man was plainly clad, a stark contrast to the Knight in his glittering mail, but carried a sword at his hip as if he knew well the use of the weapon. His eyes held warmth, humor, and wisdom, and the boy felt no scorn in the man's question or regard. Said the boy in a timid whisper, "they would not have me sir even if I dared make my hopes known and their censure would be more than I could bear."

The man nodded in understanding, a grim look on his face, "that man is not all he appears nor are his promises what they seem. Do not be too disappointed that you cannot accompany him, I fear many of your friends will rue their current eagerness before all is finished."

The boy stared at the stranger in even more astonishment, "who are you to condemn this man?"

The man smiled wryly, "we were boys together, I have known him all my life and I know whom he serves."

Said the boy in surprise, "should we not warn them if their fate shall be as dire as you say?"

The man shook his head sadly, "who would listen to either of us? I am a poor stranger and you a despised local, our antipathy towards this man would only encourage them further. The signs are there if your folk are willing to see them, but they are likely blinded by their own greed and pride."

Tabor looked closer at the richly clad stranger and for the first time truly saw him. Though his words were eager and fervent, there was an undeniable undercurrent of derision and grimness in tone and manner. His eyes sparkled with glee, but it was a malicious sort of joy, knowing he had these unsuspecting whelps exactly where he wanted them. His own retainers were silent not in awe but in a gloomy sort of resignation. The boy took all this in and turned astonished eyes upon his companion, saying, "what then shall be their fate if they go with this deceitful fellow?"

The man shook his head, "a few may find their way into the Knighthood of his vile master as promised while the majority will become common foot soldiers in his army or servants in his halls or fields."

Tabor smiled in spite of himself, "at least here they are free men and will one day inherit their fathers' land or trade, but to become a menial in another man's field when one sets out to become a Knight must be a harsh blow indeed."

The man nodded, "aye lad, they shall become veritable slaves in service to a grim and terrible King, never seeing their homes or families again, unless they return as this fellow has done, to recruit more unsuspecting fools into his master's service."

Tabor said sadly, "at least I never need worry about catching his eye. But what is to become of me?"

The man smiled, "whatever you wish lad!"

The boy glanced around morosely, "my greatest wish is to leave this place and see what the world holds for me, but alas, at least here I have food and shelter, wretched as it may be. If I left, I might find myself starving upon the highway or freezing under a hedge."

The man shook his head and smiled warmly, "I could at least see that you escaped starvation and frostbite."

The boy's eyes were wide with incredulity, "did you not just caution me not to go off with a stranger? How am I to know that the fate of my fellows or worse, shall not befall me at your hands?" The man only looked at him and the boy was forced to draw conclusions from what he could see and feel about this man. He sighed heavily and said ruefully, "very well, I suppose you and he are not cast from the same mold. What would be the purpose of me accompanying you?"

The man shrugged, "I am a warrior in my own right, certainly not as bold and showy as my deceitful counterpart over there, but no less skilled for all of that. You could become my apprentice and learn what you must, going your own way whenever you tire of my company." The boy laughed at the incongruity of thinking himself a warrior of any stripe but the man continued, "I know you think yourself too sick, weak, and pathetic for such a life, but there is more to you than you know lad. In my experience, it is the heart of a man that counts for everything, physical strength is secondary."

The boy thoughtfully studied his companion for a few moments, smiled contentedly, and nodded, saying, "very well, I will accompany you and let us hope you can make something vital and useful out of this frail and unassuming bit of mankind."

The man slapped him on the back eagerly and said, "very well lad, we shall set off at first light tomorrow. I will try to convince some of your fellows to rethink their eagerness in the interim."

The pair withdrew from the shadows in which they had been conversing and companionably joined the gathering on the green. Most did not notice their presence, focused as they were on the other stranger, but the few that did gave the pair an affronted glare before turning their attention back to the veritable hero before them. As afternoon faded into evening, the still excited party withdrew into the inn to continue the celebration. The brilliant warrior continued to extol the vague glories of what the lads would find upon their quest and all hung on his words with trepidation and joy; he spared the plainly clad stranger one scornful look and then continued on as if the man were not there. Said Tabor after the interaction, "he seems to consider you a nuisance, but not enough of a bother to spare more than a glance."

The man smiled deeply, "aye lad, he knows I am no real threat to his pontifications and schemes and any lad interested in the likes of me would be of absolutely no interest to him. I am a fly, a mere pest, and nothing more."

As the night wore on, the Knight withdrew to his room, but bid his companions to be ready to ride at first light. The jubilant youths finally noticed Tabor's presence and his uninteresting companion. They ignored the stranger and did their best to make him know how fully they despised and scorned him, and how glad they were that he would not survive two days upon such a journey. Tabor bore their torment patiently and the stranger said nothing. Finally, as their contempt wound down, the man spoke, "lads, have you fully considered what it might mean to go off with this man, no questions asked?"

Sneered the largest of the bunch, "we will do as we please! Who are you to question our motives, desires, or actions?"

The man shook his head sadly, "I only ask that you fully think out what it might mean to place yourselves in the power of such a man with only his vainglorious promises for assurance." They laughed scornfully at him and withdrew into a small knot to discuss their own bright futures amongst themselves.

Tabor said quietly, "you were correct in your assumptions of trying to talk sense to them. Your attempts only make them more eager." He sighed heavily, "if only there were something I could do."

The man smiled quietly and said, "by coming with me, you are doing all you can. Who knows what their futures or your own holds? Mayhap you will be the one to rescue them from the peril into which they are blindly and willingly flinging themselves." All sought their beds soon after, for they would leave early on the morrow.

The Knight appeared the next morning in all his splendor and a half dozen youths soon joined him on the green, most afoot but two of the more affluent riding unremarkable horses. The man sniffed at their pathetic mounts but hid his derision well. He glanced at his recruits in surprise, for twice their number had eagerly thronged about him the previous day, but well was he used to the first eagerness dying utterly when faced with the terror of riding off into the unknown, and he needed no such cowards. The plainly clad stranger and Tabor led their equally unremarkable horses out onto the green beside the gathering party.

Sneered the same boy from the previous evening, "I see you are setting out as well and have even found yourself a companion worthy of equal contempt."

Said the Knight sharply, "enough chatter in the ranks, let us be on our way." At this unexpectedly harsh statement, another lad drew back, drawing a glare from their leader, but he quickly dismissed the coward from his mind and ordered his remaining minions out of the village. The overbold youth sneered at the reluctant lad, Tabor, and the other stranger with equal scorn before he vanished around a bend in the road.

The stranger said eagerly, "we too should be on our way." He glanced at the remaining youth and said, "you have made a wise decision lad, do not regret what you have done. The man's charm is only skin deep and your companions will learn that only too late."

Tabor clambered into his saddle, quite unused to riding, but grateful for the horse the stranger had provided. The man watched him in amusement and then led the way out of the village. The remaining youth watched them ride off and wondered what would come of it all. He smiled to think that Tabor of all people was actually riding off on such a venture while he remained safely at home. He turned back towards home and was welcomed joyously back by his distraught mother.

The years passed and no word had yet come back to that particular village of the fate that had befallen any of its missing lads, either for good or ill. On a dreary day of rain, five years after the boys had ridden out so boldly and joyously in the morning, a weary traveler turned in at the inn and sank gratefully into a chair beside the fire. The innkeeper left the table he was wiping and hastened to greet his only guest, for it was yet early in the day. Said the rather young host to the thoroughly wet man, "what would be your pleasure my good man?"

The man's eyes sparkled in amusement as they met those of the unwitting innkeeper and he ordered something warm to drink. The innkeeper frowned at the man's inexplicable mirth but hastened back to the kitchens to procure his beverage. He had gone two steps when he froze and turned back towards the unnamed man, still sitting in his chair and bemusedly watching him. The host returned and said in astonishment, "Tabor? Can it be you?"

The man laughed heartily and threw his arms around the innkeeper, who had once been the reluctant boy on the green. They laughed joyously and exchanged surprise and wonder at the changes the years had wrought. The innkeeper shook his head in astonishment, "look at you man! No one would believe you were once a frail, sickly creature!" He laughed deeper, "look at me! I married the innkeeper's daughter and now run the place in his stead." He sobered, "what has come of the others?"

Tabor shook his head, "I have not seen them since the day of our parting, but knowing the man with whom they left, I cannot say their fate was a happy one."

Just then the door burst open and immediately the intruder began demanding a hot drink and a bath. Both of the men stared at the newcomer in amazement, but strangely not surprised somehow to see Tyne standing there in the regalia of a full knight. The loudest, boldest, and largest of the lads that had fled the village that day had achieved that which he had set out in pursuit of. A sneer twisted his face as he recognized the innkeeper but he was clueless as to who the other man might be; he would never have recognized Tabor standing there with a sword at his hip, a man full of vigor and strength or believed it was he, even if he had. He ignored the fool and repeated his demands. The innkeeper bobbed a bow and immediately set about his preparations. Tyne nodded sharply, took off the bulk of his sodden outer layers, and threw himself into a chair by the fire.

Apparently bored while waiting for his bath, the knight said condescendingly to his companion, "so what brings you here?"

Tabor smiled ruefully and resumed his own chair by the fire, "just passing though on other business when the weather encouraged me to turn in here."

The knight scoffed, "I can't abide a man who has not the strength of will or body to endure whatever may come, a little rain never hurt anyone!"

Tabor did his best to conceal his amusement, knowing this bold knight was here for the same reasons as himself. Said he as blandly as he could manage, "then what brings you here, Sir Knight?"

The knight glared at the stranger's temerity for a moment, but then relaxed and said as he settled back into his chair, "you would be wise not to question your betters boy, but my master's business has me in the area and as I grew up here I thought it might be amusing to revisit my boyhood home." He eyed the stranger coldly, taking in everything about the man, before hissing, "I know what you are and I do not appreciate meddlers in my affairs. Mind your own business and there need not be any trouble."

Tabor laughed quietly to himself but said nothing in reply, for the innkeeper had returned with their drinks and said the bath would soon be ready. The Knight grunted his assent and chased the man off with another glare. The Knight sipped from the steaming mug, winced as he burned his lips, and turned his attention back to his unwanted companion, said he, "you don't need to live like this you know? You could wear the finest clothes, ride a decent horse, and sleep at an inn every night upon the road. You need not be a poorly clad vagrant who sleeps under a hedge as often as not. My master is a generous man to those skilled enough to earn his patronage."

Tabor scoffed, "I know full well who and what your master is and I wish nothing to do with him, no matter how well paid I might be for my trouble. I am content with my lot, but come, tell me what came of the others who rode off with you that day?"

The knight blinked in surprise at both the question and the stranger's outright refusal of his grand offer, recovering quickly he asked, "how is it you know about that?"

Tabor grinned, "you do not recognize me then?"

The Knight shook his head, "who am I to know every wastrel that wonders the highways?"

Said the man quietly, "I was a lad in this village like yourself, your favorite target for ridicule and scorn."

The Knight blinked again, recognition dawning but not belief, gasped he, "it cannot be!"

Tabor smiled, "I hardly believe it myself, but it is the truth, now come, what of your companions?"

Tyne shook himself, trying to regain his composure, but he finally grunted, "two scrub floors in my master's palace and the other two I doubt are still alive. They were sent to the wars away south as common soldiers and with little training, constant fighting, and rampant disease, the attrition rate is ghastly." He smiled maliciously, "but that is what such miserable wretches deserve." He glared at Tabor, "you would not even have qualified to scrub floors!" He glanced derisively at his sword, "can you actually use that thing?"

Tabor nodded but said nothing, but silently wondered if the man's offer still stood, now that he knew who he was. The innkeeper returned and escorted the Knight towards his waiting bath. Tabor attended to his drink while his mind raced, wondering if this meeting were indeed chance? The Knight returned an hour later and resumed his vacated chair, his drink now cold, but he was quite revived and even a little relaxed, enough at least to tolerate the fool that still sat beside him. "Can you really be content in such service?" asked the Knight at last, "you will never have renown or fortune or even a home!"

Tabor smiled contentedly, "those things are not what makes life worth the living. I am very content in my choice of profession. What of you? Even with the glory or fame you seem to think necessary, you cannot be happy serving such a lord?"

The Knight scoffed, "what would you know of it? I am what I ever aspired to be and my master is of exactly the temperament as myself, so my situation is nearly perfect."

Tabor bowed his head in acquiescence, "very well Sir Knight, I meant no offense."

Tyne scoffed, "I am sure you didn't but your ilk give it by default. I bid you good night." He stood stiffly and vanished towards his room. Tabor donned his cloak and went back out into the rain.

The Knight tried to retire early, but to no avail, he tossed and turned all night and the thoughts swirling in his mind would give him no comfort or rest. He was astonished at the changes wrought in the once sickly youth, the physical improvement was phenomenal, but was actually the least of what perplexed the Knight. The man had met his gaze, answered his challenges, and stood his ground, whereas he had always shrunk from the least insult or frustration when they were boys together. What had changed the boy so much? Tyne knew he himself had changed but little, save in the physical disciplines, he was still very much the boy he once was whereas Tabor had become a man. He did not want to admit to himself that he envied Tabor, but it was the root of his unease on that disquiet night. They had both set out seeking their future, but only one of them was truly happy with his lot, and it was not the man who bragged of his might, fame, and valor. He had everything the other man did not, why could he not be content therein? What was his secret, what was he hiding? He must find out.

The Knight rose before the sun, hoping his quarry had not escaped him. The dismal rain of the previous night gave way to a mist shrouded dawn of gold and rose; the trees and grass glistened as if begemmed. The innkeeper assured the Knight that Tabor had not slept at the inn, and familiar with the local area from his youth, it was not difficult to guess where the vagrant had secreted himself for the night. The man was just stowing the last of his gear in his saddlebags when the Knight entered the little glade with drawn sword. Tabor turned around suddenly, hand on his hilt and fire in his eyes. The Knight took an unconscious step back when his gaze met Tabor's, not expecting to find a warrior of such caliber in the guise of his childhood prey.

"What do you want Tyne?" said Tabor coldly.

Tyne laughed in spite of himself, "I see you are utterly changed indeed." He sheathed his weapon and held up his hands in token of peace, "I want what you have."

Tabor relaxed and warmed significantly, "what I have?"

Tyne nodded and looked at the ground, discomfited, "your life is not easy but you are happy. Mine is relatively luxurious but I am discontent."

Tabor snorted, "and you thought to come and take that by force?"

Tyne seemed fascinated by his toe, with which he was trying to dig a hole, "I thought perhaps to end my disquiet by ending your content. Perhaps if there was no comparison I would be more at ease." He shook his head grimly, "but murder would not avail me."

Tabor shook his head in astonishment, "no, it would only make things worse, but all men can have what I have found." Tyne looked up hopefully as he continued, "but you cannot find it serving as an agent of deceit or in pursuing your own selfish motives." Tyne looked rather uneasy at this statement, but he knew the man was right, if only he would admit it to himself.

"What must I do?" came the plaintive question.

Tabor shook his head, "it is a question of heart, not of action. Are you willing to change your heart as well as your actions? You can find peace and contentment scrubbing floors with a humble heart but even were you King, you would be discontent with your current attitude."

The man's words did not sit well with the uncomfortable Knight and his sword was again bare between them, snarled he, "how dare you preach to me!"

Tabor had his own blade out and said wryly, "are you not the one who demanded such answers of me?" Tyne only snarled as he leapt upon his foe. Tabor easily drove him off and then they began to circle. Tabor asked, "what is the point of all this? How will one of us killing the other avail either of us? It is your own uneasy heart with which you must wrestle, not me!" Tyne snarled again and launched himself fully into the altercation, knowing only that he could not allow this prattling fool to live.

When it was finished, Tyne sat propped against a tree, clutching his wounded arm and gasping for air while the unscathed Tabor stood over him, looking grim and wondering what to do with the unstable Knight. Tyne puffed out, "I will not be beaten by you!" He leapt to his feet, still clutching his arm, and bolted into the woods. Tabor stared after in disbelief, but felt he had best move on before Tyne considered a rematch or found reinforcements. He flung himself into his saddle and rode off quickly in the opposite direction.

Tyne fled blindly into the woods, leaving his horse, sword, retainers, and luggage behind him, knowing only the bitterness of an agonized soul in grief and defeat. For two days he heedlessly ran deeper into the wildwoods on the border of his own master's grim country and that of his birth. His mind reeled, his arm throbbed, and he could not rest, save for when exhaustion forced him from his feet for a few hours but then as soon as strength returned, he would charge off again, trying vainly to flee the horrors indwelling his own soul. Bitterness, fury, grief, humiliation, and despair raged through him like a blizzard, freezing his heart and numbing his mind. All he could think about was revenge. At last he collapsed and lapsed into dreams dark and grim. He awoke to find himself utterly lost in a dank and dreary forest of ancient trees hung about with hoary moss. He shivered, whether in cold, terror, or revulsion, he did not know, but a sudden gust of wind chilled him to the bone and felt as cold as Death itself. He sat up and glanced warily about him, wondering how to exact revenge when he was not even sure where he was at the moment. His gaze soon fell upon the source of the morbid wind and a cold smile grew on his lips as he stood and made his way thither.

A cave gaped in the side of a hill a stone's throw from where he had fallen, and from thence did the fell wind originate. He stared grimly into the fathomless void and knew he looked upon one of the fabled entrances into the Abyss; here would be the ideal place to strike the bargain that would guarantee his revenge upon his pious nemesis, whatever it might cost him. A voice drew his attention and he jumped when he realized he was not alone. A short, bony woman, so twisted and wrinkled with age that he had mistaken her for the dead stump of a weathered tree, sat upon a stone beside the Door, hissed she, "what have the living to do with this place?"

Tyne shivered, his very soul quivering in terror, but he said in a barely audible whisper, "life holds no delight for me any longer, at least while my foe lives, I will pay any price to see him destroyed utterly."

"Well," said she with thoughtful and malicious delight, "perhaps we can strike a bargain." She pointed at the Abyss and cackled, "that is if you are willing to do anything for your revenge?" He shivered but nodded eagerly.

The sun was setting as Tabor drew rein in a little clearing inhabited by a singing brook and the last golden rays of the fleeing sun. He went about his evening chores, but a shadow lay heavy on his heart, he was uneasy as he had never been before. His horse whinnied nervously from across the clearing and seemed to share his inexplicable disquiet. The sun vanished beyond the horizon and a sudden, chill wind came up, driving a thin veil of clouds over the emerging stars and plunging the clearing into blackness. The horse screamed in terror, pulled loose, and fled into the night while the wind howled like a lost soul and carried the scent and cold of the grave. Tabor shuddered, wishing he could flee like the horse, but knowing that whatever was coming would find him regardless. He drew his sword, offered up a silent prayer, and set himself for battle, hoping this menace could be bested with a sword.

"At last," came a chill, malicious laugh, "you will not escape your fate, fool!"

Tabor nearly dropped his sword in surprise, "Tyne! What have you done to yourself?"

The wraith entered the clearing, merely a darker stain in the brooding night, save for a pair of eyes that glowed like embers in the featureless face, it laughed darkly, "this is your fault, all your fault! And now I shall have my revenge, it cost me my soul, but it will be sweet indeed!"

Tabor shuddered and threw down his sword, knowing it would do no good against this otherworldly villain. Said he quietly, "this is all of your own making; I had no part in it."

The shadow squawked indignantly, "you will not even stand and fight, coward? You will not even give me the chance to savor your futile efforts to defend your wretched life?"

Tabor shrugged and said in resignation, "I have no weapon or skill to avail me against whatever it is you are, and neither will I despair, even though all seems utterly hopeless. I will accept whatever is to come and therein shall I be content, come what may."

The wraith howled in agony, "how can this be? Even in death you are content! Where is my revenge? My victory? What is the point if there is no bitterness, sorrow, or terror here at the end? My sacrifice is vain!"

Tabor said quietly, "your whole life has been vain, why did you think this would be any different. It is all for naught!"

"No!!!" shrieked the fiend, "if I cannot have my revenge, at least I can silence your prattling tongue!" He leapt at Tabor, who went to his knees as if he were a condemned man upon the block, and then the whole world erupted into a blinding radiance.

Somewhere a cricket chirped, the brook continued its song of eternal mirth, a star peeped out overhead. Tabor sat up slowly; he shook his head and blinked as he tried to ascertain what had just happened. He caught a brief glimpse of a unicorn standing at the edge of the clearing before it turned suddenly and vanished into the night dark wood. His wondering gaze followed after and an incredible peace washed over him, content whatever was to come.

The lion and the unicorn

were fighting for the crown;

the lion beat the unicorn

all around the town.

~Nursery Rhyme~

Fit to Rule?

Silly, silly creatures! Who can rule a land of men but a man himself? Has it ever been anything but trouble when a resident of Faerie thought to impose himself upon a Kingdom of Men? But who dared defy a Lion when he came growling and snarling out of the Wood one day, huge as an elephant, golden as a sunrise. For the King had died but the day before and had left no heir and no instruction as to who should succeed him, leaving the nobles to argue amongst themselves over who should be King and the peasants to worry if war would soon be looming in that once peaceful Kingdom. But then the Lion came and proclaimed himself the rightful King over all the Realm. Perhaps there would be no war, but this King was far more dreadful than any had imagined and what did he know about ruling over men? Just as the awful creature was making himself comfortable upon the throne and graciously preparing to accept the cowering nobles' pledges of fidelity, another arrived to challenge his claims of sovereignty.

This challenger was perhaps even worse a vision to the overwrought sensibilities of these poor mortals than the Lion, at least a lion they knew for a real creature. What was one to make of a Unicorn? He trod through the streets, his coat shining like the moon and his voice ringing like thunder in the valleys, daring the usurper to assume his place on the throne. The Lion was on his feet in a trice, roaring like an army on the charge, "the crown is mine, do you hear me you broken down old mule? Who are you to rule these mewling wretches when such as I am among them! Away with you ere I grow violent!"

The Unicorn screamed his fury and said, "come kitten, you have no right to rule these pathetic creatures, leave them to me! Go find your mittens ere your mother withholds your allotment of pie!"

The pair met in the market square in the midst of the town and spent many minutes spewing vitriol back and forth in such a loud fashion that the tiles were shaken from the surrounding buildings. At last a timid, 'ahem' sounded in the silence as they exchanged hateful glares as they panted to regain their breath for another round of violent slurs. They both glared at the cowering creature before them, ready to extinguish him as a noble lady might step upon a beetle. Said the quivering man, "pardon me dread sirs, but would it not be wiser to take this altercation outside the town lest you destroy what you plan to rule in the brewing altercation?"

They exchanged a curt nod at the wisdom of this beetling little man and the city itself seemed to exhale in relief as they withdrew from its confines to continue their exchange of maleficent greetings. So for a century or two they exchanged vile words and then finally came to blows. For a decade the Unicorn would stoutly beat the Lion and then for twenty three years the Lion would have the upper hand. So it was that they fought for years beyond count and still neither could quite declare victory, at last exhausted and hurting, they began another round of verbal abuse which lasted half a millennia and then it was another round of fisticuffs with neither being triumphant for more than three decades running. So intense was their battle that soon they found themselves fighting in a deep valley with the dirt so heaped up around them as to form a new range of mountains, separating them completely from the contested little realm. So ever on did they go, back and forth as the ages passed uncounted and so deep did their valley become, that eventually only the sound of their altercation could be heard and men thought it the voice of a mighty water deep in the gorge below and like were they to continue for all the ages yet to come.

And what of the little realm each had thought to rule? The bold young man who dared suggest they take the contest outside was unanimously declared King and so wisely did he rule, he and a hundred generations of his descendants after him, that the Kingdom flourished as no other on the earth before or after, and still the voices of those two rivals still echo in the deep, even though their intended throne has long since passed into legend, for the Kingdom did eventually collapse, as must all such nations under the sun, yet still did they argue over which was the more fit to be King!

And my lonely spirit thrills,

To see the frosty asters

Like a smoke upon the hills.

~Bliss Carman, 'A Vagabond Song'~

Varied Strangers

Claire sat at the window gazing dreamily out into the golden green light of the evening sun shining through the summer trees; it was on nights such as this that fairies danced and magic happened. She sighed, things like that didn't happen anymore or perhaps never did. She closed her book of fairy tales and legends and went to do something practical. The golden evening had deepened to a purple twilight with a bright moon overhead and a velvet wind, perfumed with clover and hay, dancing among the lilies, when Claire looked up from her mending as someone knocked at the door. She put down her socks and hastened to answer the summons. Standing without was a stooped, shabby man of indeterminate years who yanked at his lank forelock and mumbled almost coherently, "I begs yer pardon madam, but mights I tend to some odd job or tother in exchange for a bit and sup?"

She stared down at the creature at first aghast, for she was home alone as her father and brothers were away on business, but his seeming plight touched her heart and she immediately drew him into the house, offered him whatever food she had to hand, and began making preparations for a bath, which she estimated he had not had in perhaps a century or more. He was quite astonished to be treated like a guest, rather than as a wandering cur or worse, but he heartily set to the food before him though he did eye the warming water with trepidation. Claire smiled at his uneasy glances and said, "if you are going to sleep in the guest bed, sir, you will be at least as clean as the sheet thereon, else you may suffice yourself with the barn loft."

He yanked his greasy forelock again and seemed to be mumbling a desperate prayer under his breath, but at last he said audibly, "as you likes it miss, as you likes it." She nodded firmly and went to go find some of her brothers' clothes, hoping something might fit her ill clad guest.

He finished his food and she sent him off to bathe after handing him a change of clothes; he stared at the bundle in apprehension but again yanked his hair and muttered under his breath, before facing his sudsy fate. She thought to mend and clean his clothes whilst he partook of his ablutions, but alas, the garments were so dirty and ragged that there was nothing to be done but to retire them to the rubbish heap. He was quite aghast to learn that he was to keep the clothes he had been given which resulted in more hair pulling and mumbling. She sent him to bed, in a real bed, and went back to her book of tales, thinking she had been practical enough for one night. In the morning she sent him on his way after a hearty breakfast with food enough to last him several days, he vanished into the quickening day with more babbling and forelock yanking and Claire could only smile.

A month later she went into the village to buy a few items for her father when a dashing young lord aback a beautiful horse galloped past her and splattered mud all over her second best dress. His lordship seemed not to notice, but rather sharply reined in the beast so that he reared and flung more mud from his flailing front hooves. Once the beast was again earthbound, the young rascal dismounted, tossed his reins carelessly to the muddied girl, and said in passing, "see to the beast lass, I shall be back when it suits me." He raised an eyebrow in surprise, "and you might wish to bathe on occasion and don a fresh dress, as you never know when you might meet somebody important!" He shook his head in disgust and entered the nearest shop. Claire stood there holding the reins and gaped after in silent astonishment.

Her practical side reared its head and she led the beast over to the trough that it might at least have a drink. An hour passed and his lordship did not emerge. She sighed and led the beast into the shade and used a borrowed brush to groom the creature. Another hour passed and the day grew hot and Claire's stomach reminded her that it was well past lunchtime. She sat on the grass, held the reins, and waited and still his lordship did not come. At last, as the sun was vanishing behind the hills, his lordship emerged, glanced about for his beast, and finally approached the dirty, hungry, tired, maiden. He glanced thoughtfully at the animal, shook his head, climbed into the saddle, and said in farewell, "you missed a spot just in front of the shoulder; good help is just impossible to find in this degenerate age!" He turned the animal and galloped off into the growing shadows. Claire stood, sighed, and trudged home, her errand unaccomplished.

One day a couple months later, her elder brother brought home a handsome stranger he had met on his latest journey for their father's business. Claire quickly shut her gaping mouth and tried to stifle the strange sensation she felt in her chest, as if her heart were beating abnormally fast; the man was the comeliest example of humanity she had ever beheld, but she reminded herself sternly, she was practical. So she left her weeding and hastened to the house to prepare for their guest, in nowise wanting to make his acquaintance sooner rather than later, though she did slip into her best dress for some reason she could not fathom. They sat over supper and the man thrilled them with his stories of adventure and intrigue, for he was apparently a very wealthy man and rather important in the ruling circles of his own country. He paid particular attention to the fair maid before him, but there was something in his manner she did not like though she tried very hard to silence this unwanted voice, hoping it wasn't herself being practical again. The men produced their pipes and sat before the fire long into the night, listening to the man's tales, but Claire withdrew to the kitchen to finish cleaning up and then went to bed, but sleep was long in coming as uneasy thought played through her mind.

In the morning, the stranger drew the damsel out into the misty garden, soaked with dew and sunshine. She was a bit uneasy to be so alone with a strange man and he smiled at her antsy feet and frightened eyes, saying, "come lady, there is no reason to be nervous, I am a man of honor!"

She stood stock still and eyed him boldly, her timidity suddenly gone at this astounding statement, said she, "are you now, sir? What of all your tales of last night? There was much danger and adventure, but little of integrity and honor."

He spurned her, "you shall die an old maid wench, for no woman alive should be able to resist my charms! What more can you want in a man than what I have to offer? You are too picky and will be left alone!" He turned on his heel and marched away. She stared after aghast, but glad that she had finally listened to that gnawing doubt in her heart that could see past the shallow and daring facade to the selfish and cold creature beneath. A small smile touched her lips as she returned to the vegetable patch to resume her weeding.

The wind had stripped the leaves from the trees but no snow had yet shrouded the grey and brown grimness of the surrounding countryside in splendid white raiment. Claire was returning from the barn with a pail of milk when a stranger met her in the farmyard, said he, "is your husband at home madam?" She shook her head and was about to ask the plainly clad young man to come into the house for some breakfast but he said quickly, "no father or brothers either?" She shook her head again for they were again away from home. Said he with growing eagerness, "then I will just have to treat with you, lady." He whispered conspiratorially, "just between you and I of course, the menfolk need know nothing of this." He put his hand in his pocket and withdrew it holding a beautiful sapphire ring, that Claire knew must be worth far more than she could ever afford. He smiled knowingly at her mixed awe and consternation, saying, "aye, lass, it can be yours and not for as much as you fear." He whispered the sum he wanted and she frowned, so little? He grinned, "I've just come into possession of this fine specimen and am in need of money more than jewels at the moment, and of course I can't get the King's ransom I should for this little bauble hereabouts so I am willing to take what I can get. What do you say?"

"Where did it come from?" asked she.

Said he with a wink, "a poor dame misplaced it the other day, but fear not, she has plenty of others. Her misfortune is our gain and she'll never know it! What do you say?"

Claire's frown deepened, "away with you sir, you and your pilfered items! Away before I call the watch!" He smiled greasily at her, gave her another scandalous wink, and hied him on down the road as fast as he could trot. She shook her head in disgust and returned to the house.

Spring came and the dragon with it. Most people expect an influx of birds and warm weather at this season, but so too did they receive an unexpected reptilian menace. Claire decided then and there never to be practical again, for it seemed the fairy tales were true. The monster stood on the village green with smoke curling from his nostrils and a hungry gleam in his eyes. He bellowed that all and sundry must present themselves before him this day or the whole village would soon be a smoking ruin. The terrified villagers and local farmers gathered as ordered and he glanced among them like a wolf eyeing a flock of chickens. "Is this all of you?" hissed the beast. The terrified villagers quivered their ascent. "Very good," snarled the creature, "I will tell you this but once so listen closely. I need a volunteer else the entire village will feel my wrath. A volunteer for what, you ask?" He laughed vilely, "that you will not know until afterwards, if you are capable of knowing anything at all at that point." He laughed for another full minute and seemed to relish the horror and disgust emanating from the trembling host before him. "Well?" growled he, "who shall it be?"

Immediately the terrified peasants began discussing the matter between themselves, each suggesting to another that they were the ideal victim, but no one seemed to believe it and quite vocally disagreed. Among the weeping, yelling, pushing, trembling throng, a firm, quiet voice was heard. "Silence!" bellowed the beast, "quit your mewling wench and speak for all to hear!"

Claire stood forth from the cringing, silent mass and said, "take me then sir, spare these poor folk."

The dragon cocked his head and stared at her with one predatory eye, "are you certain madam?" She nodded firmly and the creature snatched her up without another word and was immediately awing. Claire gasped in terror as much as in exhilaration, for flight was always something she had wished to experience. He bore her deep into the heart of the mountains without a word, but finally set her down on a rocky precipice overlooking a grim, stony valley far below. He taunted her, "are you even now sure of yourself madam?" She nodded grimly and glanced into the chasm below, he mocked, "wondering if it would not be better to throw yourself over the cliff? Do it and your village will suffer!" She shuddered but moved away from the edge, but she stared with vehemence at her captor, daring him to do his worst.

He actually chuckled, it sounded neither harsh nor mocking, but rather warm and amused, "a feisty creature to the last!" Said he quite seriously, "here then lady is your doom: you must marry me." She gaped at the creature in astonishment and he chuckled again, before saying, "perhaps it shall be a worse torment than any death you imagined at my claws, but so it is."

She sighed heavily and then studied the creature before her with a slight frown on her face. The creature remained silent and allowed her to content herself with her investigation. Said she quietly, "can such a thing truly be? Can a human and a dragon truly wed?"

He laughed heartily, "what? No tale in that book of yours regarding such a concept?"

Her frown deepened, "What?! How?" Then a thoughtful smile brightened her face, "What if I say yes?"

He suddenly took her up in his claws and winged swiftly away from those grim heights, she shrieked in surprise but enjoyed the ride after her initial shock. They landed in a quiet meadow and the girl was flung indecorously to the ground. She stood and turned to scold the creature for his ill treatment of her, only to find him writhing insensibly in agony and shrinking by the moment. She gasped and rushed to his side. By the time she reached him, he was a beast no longer but rather a young man with an exultant smile on his face. He grinned at her joyously and her mouth twitched in mirth.

He stood, stretched, and began working his arms and legs, as if he had spent a fortnight in a cramped position. As he worked life back into his limbs, he regaled Claire with his tale, said he, "I do hope you mean to keep your promise darling, or I am doomed to again wear scales! But you are such a kind, patient, forgiving, honest, wise, and bold creature that I know you shall never rescind on your word. You do not know me, but I have had the joy of learning more of you than you perhaps know of yourself. You have suffered through several strange encounters over the past year and I was each of your visitors. I was quite overjoyed to find a woman of such heart when I came knocking at your door, beggar that I was, and heartily amused to find her a lover of old stories too, for I had found myself in the midst of one. Fear not, I am in truth a Prince, as such tales require, and hopefully of better character than most of my faux personas. I was cursed by my stepmother, another prerequisite for such a tale, and they never bother hexing those of a troublous or wretched nature, so that again I hope is in my favor! Please forgive the sudden departure, but I knew the spell broken by your words and had I hesitated, we might be stuck on that pinnacle of rock indefinitely!"

She smiled fully upon him and her eyes danced merrily, as she asked, "what was this strange curse and what is to come of she who laid it upon you? Please tell me this woman is not to be my mother-in-law!"

Laughed the Prince, for very joy, "nay lass, so great and terrible was the spell she laid upon me that should it ever be lifted, the recoil alone might kill her or at least break her power. If she lives, she shall now be no more dreadful or terrible than any such creature might be, though I hear mothers-in-law as a species tend to be quite awful indeed, but she must face my father's justice and will trouble the world no longer. As to the spell, it was quite a dreadful curse, requiring me to go about as a dragon most of the time and the only way to break it was to gain the willing hand of the most virtuous and wise lady in all the Kingdom. I could appear at times as a mortal man, but never as myself and always as either a wretched beggar or the most insolent and dastardly creature imaginable, neither guise prone to attract a woman of your intelligence and virtue. But alas, the witch forgot that such a true heart might sacrifice itself for the sake of others, but I hope your sacrifice on behalf of all your folk will no longer be seen as such?"

Her smile was answer enough. Soon enough, the merry young pair was wed and the whole Kingdom celebrated, save the unfortunate witch, who was so astonished at the failure of her greatest spell that she fainted dead away and never wakened.

Happy, smiling, pixie things,

Laughing up at me.

If Joy wore petals,

She would garb herself as thee.

~Wild Pansy~

Many waters cannot quench love,

Neither can floods drown it,

For love is strong as death.

~Song of Songs~

The Unicorn Hunt

Mirabella was a maiden fair to look upon and that was enough, at least as far as His Lordship the Duke of Firth was concerned; he needed a lovely maiden and she would suffice. "A Unicorn Hunt?" said she in some surprise but not uneagerly, "and just what does one do with a Unicorn once one has caught it?"

The Duke shrugged, "that is not your concern, nor are such things spoken of to young ladies. Will you assist me?"

She pursed her lips in annoyance when he refused to discuss the matter further, but his offer intrigued her and she could not gainsay him, so readily agreed to assist him in his scheme. A more tenderhearted lady would have balked in concern, wondering what was to be the fate of the poor beast, but Mirabella saw only a chance to impress a Duke, and an unmarried Duke at that. So the next morning, she donned her most beautiful gown, mounted the waiting palfrey, and accompanied the various musicians, singers, and gaily clad courtiers as they set out to find a Unicorn. It was an honored tradition to ride forth with colorful banners and festive music, in hopes of luring one of the mystic creatures within sight of mortal men and in legend at least, he might even lay his head in the lap of a lovely maiden, thus Mirabella's part in the whole affair.

They rode out eagerly at first, but after an hour or two, as the day waxed warm and the participants began to grow bored and weary, the procession began to lag and the music to sputter. The Duke rode up and down amidst the throng, ordering and threatening the revelers to resume their gaiety or else, which of course increased their pretended exuberance but did nothing to aide their joy. But whether it was pity for the berated performers or that the creatures were just plain foolish, at last the beast emerged from some hidden retreat deep in the woods and showed himself to the weary throng. A brightly clad servant went riding off with all haste in the direction of the castle while the lady dismounted and sat upon the verdant grass of spring, while the musicians and banner bearers drew back in a semicircle, still continuing in their assumed joy. The creature stood for some time studying the procession and then to everyone's surprise, most especially Mirabella's, he stepped out of the wood and approached the maiden upon the sward. He stopped a few feet from her and she felt herself studied, as a bird might eye a worm, but he tamely laid his head upon her lap and she felt a very strange sensation wash over her: a true joy beyond the comprehension of mortal man, which the company had been trying their best to mimic but could do so only superficially.

He looked up at her then, with eyes deeper than the fathomless depths of the sea, and said quietly, "alas for you maid, for you have betrayed me; there is no curse more dreadful than living with a faithless heart. Remember me when life becomes too bitter to bear."

Then the sound of the hunting horn and the baying of hounds filled the air. The musicians ceased and drew away, even as men with spears and bows advanced, with the Duke at their head. The Unicorn stood and eyed them sadly; the girl ducked her head and ran. They made short work of the creature and triumphantly bore him back to the city where the commonfolk waited in dread, having been ordered to so await their lord's coming. They cheered dully, when the company entered the city and the Duke scowled darkly, causing the feigned excitement to increase in volume, if not in earnestness. The maiden waited in the courtyard for their victorious return and hesitantly approached the slain creature, flinching back in horror as the packhorse started and spattered silver blood upon her face and hands. The Duke laughed harshly at her disgust and ordered preparations begun for the celebratory feast.

He turned to the damsel as he dismounted and offered her his arm. She took it with a grim, triumphant look and allowed him to escort her into the castle. It was a grand celebration, if a bit grim, as many of the celebrants were not in the least proud of that which they commemorated, but the lady sat beside the Duke and thought at last, her dreams had come true. She looked now and again at the slaughtered beast, where it lay in its grim glory on a dais in the middle of the room for all to see, and wondered at his parting words, but no, what wisdom could be found in a mere beast? She had her lord and would be content. But she was far from content, for that night little sleep did she find and in the morning, a horrible discovery did she make. The servants had wiped the silver blood from her hands and face almost immediately, but anywhere the shining fluid had touched, was now white and leprous. She took one look in the mirror and fell to her knees, weeping. Her maidens, hearing this dreadful sound of anguish hastened to their lady but drew back in horror, upon seeing her so afflicted. She stared up at them in utter misery and snarled, "will you shrink from me even so? Away, away with you all!" They fled from her presence in terror.

It was not only the lady, but even the Duke and some of the servants and huntsmen were thus afflicted, for anyone the blood had touched was affected. Strangely, none of the horses or hounds were touched by the curse, but only those that willingly had some part in the creature's slaughter. The Duke's right hand was affected, as he had cut the creature's throat himself, he was far from pleased and even less so when a weeping and panicked Mirabella intruded upon his brooding late in the morning. Roared he at the distraught girl, "leave me in peace wench! What can I do? Ruined your lovely face has it? Well, you need not ever show yourself in my presence again! Be gone!"

And so she fled, weeping all the more, as she had sent her maids flying only an hour previous. The creature's final words rung in her ears, not tauntingly as she first assumed, but rather a puzzle, a glimmer of hope on the brink of despair. Remember him? She shook her head in consternation, but hastened to where she had last seen the carcass, but the banquet hall was empty and the creature gone. She demanded of the nearest servant, "where is the beast?

The boy shook his head, his eyes full of pity for the afflicted maid, and said, "the master gave orders that it should be taken outside the city and hung well up in a tree that it would be ready for whatever he meant next to do with it."

She actually thanked the lad as she hastened out of the castle, in search of the beast or whatever remained of it. She felt herself drawn in a certain direction and did not resist this strange impulse, even when it took her two days of scrambling through a rocky wilderness of stunted trees and straggling weeds with no food or water to be found. Finally she heard the sound of a mighty water and a great lawn of new grass and bright flowers greeted her as she crested the final hill. There she saw him, the Unicorn, alive and whole, with eyes as bright and keen as the day she had betrayed him. "You have come," said he. She nodded, her eyes glowing with a strange joy, but then she dropped her head, the shame and the tears began anew. "Peace child," said he, "you need not mourn over what has been, at least if you have come seeking pardon rather than merely a cure, for a healed body with a stricken soul is far worse than any bodily ailment." She knelt beside him, with eager eyes, and found herself whole in body and heart. She glanced about her, eager to thank him, but he was gone.

She stood, stared about herself, in even more despair than when she had first discovered the leprosy, but a gentle breeze stirred amongst the flowers and seemed to whisper, "peace child." She smiled, but with only a hint of sorrow, and laid herself upon the grass and long was her sleep. When she wakened, the sun was rising over a far hill and she felt fully refreshed and renewed. Knowing she could never go back to the wretched Duke, she set forth, determined to see what lay between those distant hills and the sun's rising, comforted as she went by a still, small voice that bespoke all peace and joy.

With many a curve my banks I fret

By many a field and fallow,

And many a fairy foreland set

With willow-weed and mallow.

I chatter, chatter as I flow

To join the brimming river,

For men may come and men may go,

But I go on forever.

~Lord Alfred Tennyson, 'Song of the Brook'~

Blood and Water

With a crash and a snort, the great stag broke cover and went bounding off towards the heart of the forest; the hounds were at his heels and added their own cacophony to the noise of the morning. Prince Garret had no need to urge his horse onwards as the beast too was caught up in the thrill of the chase. A pair of servants followed after their young master, ready to aide him however they could. The young prince was alone this morning except for the servants; his brother and various friends had all declined to accompany him on this morning's foray. The disappointed young man had set out in an ill humor but the beauty of the morning and an almost immediate discovery of their quarry quickly dispelled his frustration so that he completely forgot himself in sheer exhilaration, but the stag was no unwary yearling. He had not attained his size and age by simple luck; he knew the lost paths of the wood and gave the hounds the challenge of their lives. The dogs were good but the stag was better, after several hours of slogging through fen and briar, the stymied creatures gave up the chase with whines of frustration and confusion. Garret drew up his weary horse and dismounted, annoyed at having lost their quarry but still exultant from the thrill of the chase. The servants likewise quitted their saddles, but instead of tending to the dogs and horses as their young master was intent in doing, they whispered quietly together for a moment.

The Prince was busy with his favorite dog when his world suddenly collapsed into nothing but darkness and pain, followed by an all consuming cold and wetness before he knew nothing more. The hounds whined in confusion and the horses snorted at the scent of blood, but no one intervened as the two servants murdered their one time master. The Prince's younger brother had paid them well to kill the heir to the throne and then vanish indefinitely from the Kingdom. So it was that they stuck a knife in his ribs while he was preoccupied and then flung him into a nearby pond, watching as the boy's body sank from sight and waited a few minutes to make sure it did not rise again. When they were certain the boy was either dead of his wounds or had drowned, they gathered up the horses and dogs and made good their voluntary exile. If this had not been a fairy tale, it would have been the end of the story, but thankfully our young Prince lives in a world where myth goes about under mortal sun and star. And thankfully he had fallen into a pond, wherein at this very moment dwelt a water sprite. While the villains watched their victim sink from view, the unseen denizen of the pond took hold of the young man's hand and drew him deeper still.

While she touched him, he would not drown but the grievous wound in his side was another matter entirely. The healing arts were not unknown to her people but to aide a mortal man brought with it severe and sometimes dire consequences. She could simply let go of his hand and let him sink, drown, die, that would be the easiest choice but it could not be hers. But what could she do? Could she pay the price? She looked at him then, intently, pityingly, and she knew she could and she must.

Garret awoke on the bank of the small pool, completely soaked, frozen to the bone, and utterly exhausted, but alive. He thought it had all been some terrible dream, but there was a puddle of fresh blood on the trampled grass and no sign of the hunting party remained. Slowly and painstakingly, he sat up and inspected himself and his surroundings. He stared in amazement to see a young maiden sitting a few feet from him, smiling as if she knew some secret the world could never know. Said she without preamble, "the choice is before you, child of men. I have saved your life, but that act will cost us both dearly. You can become my husband and one of my people, you can reject my gift and go the way of all flesh, or I must become a mortal and dwell forever away from my own kind." He thought the day could get no stranger but he was quite mistaken.

Said he after several minutes of silent bewilderment, "who or what are you lady?"

She smiled coyly at him and said, "a water sprite is what your uncreative tales label my folk, but in our own tongue we are the Undine."

Asked he in astonishment, "and why is such a burden placed upon you for aiding me?"

She shook her head, "the healing of a minor wound or illness might be overlooked, but to salvage a soul from death comes only at a great price. Thus is some great sacrifice required on both our parts. I must lose my immortality or gain a husband of which I know little. You must either leave your own people and life to take a wife of an unknown people or live in knowing what your life has cost another."

The boy smiled in spite of himself, "or I might die and absolve you of all responsibility?"

She smiled at his jest and said, "yes, I did mention that as an option but I thought you too sensible a creature to accept it as an option."

"What if I were a vile fiend and let you sacrifice everything on my behalf rather than do what any honorable man knows he must?" said he, intrigued by this lovely, playful maiden.

She laughed like water splashing in a fountain, "ah, sir! But would it not be far worse to be wed to such a terrible man for all of Time rather than to endure a few short years of mortality? But it seems you have made your choice."

He nodded, "there can be but one choice lady, but am I so completely cut off from my own people hereafter? For there is yet one thing I must do. My attackers did not do this merely to steal my horse and hounds, rather some fell villain put them up to it to gain the crown for himself."

She smiled at him with laughing eyes, "you will belong to the Undine hereafter, but you may interact with men as your heart desires. You cannot be a King among men but you can certainly aide in bringing your enemy to justice and protecting your Kingdom from such a threat." He rose on unsteady feet and cordially offered her his arm, yet found himself leaning on her for support rather than simply escorting her as a man ought to accompany a lady. Said she, "we must wed immediately, how is it done among your people?"

He stared at her, "I thought this must be done according to your traditions?"

She shook her head and smiled demurely, "nay, it is the husband's traditions that must be followed but hereafter our traditions shall be yours, but first we must commence with our union." He glanced about him, trying to remember where he was and if there might be someone close to hand that might avail them in their plight. He thought for a moment and finally remembered an old hermit that dwelt in this remote part of the forest; he might not be able to solemnize a marriage but he could at least give the boy dry clothes or possibly a horse.

A half hour of walking brought them to the rather rundown cottage and Garret's hopes of horses died aborning, but perhaps this old recluse had the authority that they required. He knocked upon the door but there was no answer. Garret slumped down on a sagging bench beside the door to wait, wondering if he would die of pneumonia before the old man returned, but he came almost immediately out of the woods with a bundle of firewood on his back. He stopped for a moment to study his company and then hurried forward, offering apologies and welcome. He soon had a fire going, from which the maid drew back somewhat timidly, and had laid a simple but hearty meal on the table and given the boy a dry set of clothes.

Once the lad seemed recovered somewhat from the trials of the day, the man broached the subject upon which none of them had yet spoken, "so what brings such noble younglings out this far? Trying to elope are you?"

The pair exchanged an almost guilty look of surprise at the man's insight, but Garret said quietly, "can you conduct a legal wedding, my good man?"

The man's smile was answer enough, but it vanished under a look of concern as he said, "do you know what you are entangling yourself in lad?" The boy looked hopefully at his bride and then questioningly at the man, who continued, "have you run away because your parents disapprove of the union or are you in some trouble that you think a hasty marriage might patch up?"

Said the girl quite abashedly, "sir, we are in a rather odd predicament but I would not call it a hasty marriage but rather a necessity. As to our parents, they can have no say over this union."

The man said sternly, "I will not be a party to something that will only end in disaster!"

The boy shook his head, "nay sir, we know very well what we are about to undertake. Marriage is a serious business and this particular union even more so."

The man looked more closely at the boy, surprised by the earnestness and sincerity in his voice. Then he studied the girl and a knowing look entered his eyes, as he said to the lad, "you know then that your bride is no mortal maid?"

The boy said quietly, "I am well aware of that sir and it is what must be done in our strange situation." He looked to the maiden, "and you lady? Would you unite yourself irrevocably to a mere man?"

She nodded, "I have already made my choice in the matter and must abide by his decision." He shook his head in wonder but soon enough did as they asked of him.

No sooner had the boy avowed himself as the girl's husband, than he collapsed in agony and flopped like a landed fish into the little brook beside which the girl had insisted the ceremony take place, vanishing suddenly from sight. The men had thought she wanted to be married there in a fit of whimsy or romance, as it was a very pretty spot, but she had a much more practical reason in mind. In thus uniting himself with a water sprite, he had yet to abide by the second part of his promise, and that was to become such himself, which of course required water. They both stared at the little beck in silence for a moment, the girl in anticipation and the man in wonder.

Suddenly the boy's head appeared above the water and he smiled joyously at his bride. Then he turned to look at the old hermit and said, "my gratitude is ever yours sir, if ever we can be of service, simply come to this little stream and ask us to come." He looked to the lady once more, smiled deeply as she leapt in beside him, and they vanished like water poured from a cup into a bucket. The man had seen much in his wandering days but this still managed to make him scratch his head in wonder.

Garret and his lady surfaced in a broad, shallow lake swathed in mist and bathed in the light of a full moon; the lake was nearly covered with swans who floated peacefully along, disturbing the otherwise perfect reflection of the silent moon overhead. "I do not like this," said Erinea as she glanced around at the idyllic scene.

"Nor I," said Garret, who did not see anything to mar the wonder of the sight but rather felt that something was gravely amiss.

"There is fell magic at work here," said she.

Garret nodded his agreement as they both vanished beneath the surface and swam towards the heart of the disquiet feeling. They surfaced quietly, hidden in the reeds that crowded the side of the lake. What appeared to be a beautiful maiden stood on the bridge that spanned a deep-channeled river just before it joined with the lake; the bridge was the only way to cross the river without swimming the lake or risking the fast and dangerous current of the river. The maid stood upon the bridge, apparently waiting for someone or something. Soon, the sound of hooves on the hard packed road were heard as a gallant knight approached the bridge, intending to cross but struck with wonder upon sighting the maid. She pointed to a large white water lily that seemed to glow in the moonlight and sighed, "ah good knight, would you fetch for me that fair flower?"

The Knight, bound by some strange chivalric oath to obey at once any command of any lady in distress, immediately halted his horse, dismounted, and began the treacherous journey towards the much wanted flower, but he soon found himself in distress, for cumbered as he was by the weight of armor and weapons, he soon began to sink in the lake's muddy bottom and could neither move forward nor back.

The maiden's scornful laughter broke the spell, revealing a hideous hag on a crumbling bridge and the Knight buried up to his chest in a stagnant slough. Mocked she to her would be benefactor, "what say you now, foolish Knight? Shall I leave you here to die of thirst or will you beg my aide?"

Said he indignantly, "madam, I set out to aide you with a true heart, would you punish me even so?"

She laughed horribly, "with a true heart I would, even so." Her eyes turned towards the lake, whereon floated near a hundred swans and said, "you can join your brothers on the lake, awaiting one, if he ever comes, who would break the enchantment, else you can rot where you stand."

Said he in despair, "what will break the spell, witch?"

She hissed in amusement, "only the blood of a willing man, shed upon the waters, will free the poor wretches and break my own power in turn, but what is that to you? You are trapped and only by my assistance can you be freed! Even if you were willing to shed your own precious blood, you cannot reach the lake to free your fellows. You can join them or die miserably as you are. Well?"

He sighed heavily, "I would willingly pay the price, hag, yet if it cannot be, this is no proper end for a Knight. Free me that I might be enslaved even so."

A slow smile touched her lips as she said, "I thought as much. Go then fool, join your fowl friends." As she laughed, a light consumed the stricken Knight and upon its fading, a swan blinked foolishly in the moonlight, took one look at the hag, whistled in fear, and joined his fellows on the lake. She spoke in a fell tongue and the former vision returned of ancient bridge, fair maiden, and a treacherous river.

Garret looked to his lady, "can we do nothing?"

She shook her head, "the price is not ours to pay. It must be the blood of a mortal man..." She trailed off and stared at him with pleading eyes, "you wish to recant your decision?"

He took her hands and said quietly, "these few days have been the most wonderful of my life. I regret nothing we have had together, but I cannot turn my back and leave these poor souls to remain in the witch's thrall if there is something I can do to thwart it. Can it be done?"

She dropped her gaze for a moment and then looked out over the swans in the mist and moonlight, before looking again into his eyes, "I have bidden you never kiss me and never given you the reason." A slight, sad smile touched her lips as she said tremulously, "kiss me fully, willingly and you shall become a man once more, wound and all and so shall the price be met."

He took her chin in his hand and lifted her eyes again to his, "I cannot do it without your consent, my darling for you are the one that must live with my decision."

She tried to drop her gaze as tears came to her eyes, but she whispered, "how can I say no and live with you in your shame or in knowing I cherished my own happiness over the lives of these accursed creatures? Whether I say yes or not, our former joy has died this night even so. Let my remembrance be bittersweet rather than live life together and have it poisoned by regret. You must do it, my love." The kiss that followed might have made many a fairy tale princess jealous.

As they separated, he gasped and clutched at his chest as he lurched forward and floated on the water. As the wound bled anew, the red fluid mingled with the clear water and a great chorus went up from the afflicted birds. They took to the air, whistling in delight and glowing slightly silver as each felt impelled to wing its way home, and upon arrival, they found themselves human once more. The vision of bridge and maiden vanished as the hag let loose a strangled shriek. Instead, there remained a hideous frog that croaked horribly in the stagnant marsh that bordered that side of the lake.

The hag had made a bargain when given power over the marsh and the swans and so had she agreed that if the curse were ever broken, such would be her fate. Now she must await in turn some poor hero who might be willing to kiss such a frog though no princess would he find, but perhaps a humbled witch instead. She had seen the Undine, but had paid them little heed, after all it was not as if they could break her spell nor were they likely to if they could, as that race usually had little sympathy for mortal plight. The witch had little feared her spell ever being broken, for the only easy access to the water was via her bridge and she could entrap any likely hero ere he could do something regrettable, as she had with her latest victim. But alas, she was terribly wrong. Thus was joy restored to many while the witch and Erinea were bereft of it.

The poor water maiden watched in wonder as the birds took to the air and the hag was reduced to amphibious obscurity, but suddenly realized her own dreadful loss and reached out desperately to take hold of all that remained of her happiness. She caught Garret's foot and drew his unmoving form into her arms, but the cold, lifeless form did not return her embrace. She would have committed his mortal remains forever to the bottom of that quiet lake but a sudden, beckoning voice carried on the wind and she knew she could not linger. She dove beneath the surface, still clutching her beloved and vanished from the lake, only to surface again in the little brook beside which they had vowed eternal devotion to one another.

The hermit was in desperate need of the pair and had done as Garret had once advised him. Erinea quickly discovered his crisis and her heart trembled within her, for her irate father stood over the uneasy man. Erinea quit the brook and laid her dead upon the bank, hastening to the poor man's side, her eyes blazing angrily as she looked upon her father. The elder Undine snarled, "Erinea! What have you done? I was going to teach this wretch a lesson for his temerity in involving himself in things above his concern, but he pleaded ignorance and begged that I allow you and your supposed husband to be summoned in his defense. So what have you to say on the matter?"

She stared stonily at he father and said coldly, "do not harm this poor man, for he did nothing to deserve punishment or chagrin but acted with all honor and compassion. If someone must bear the brunt of your wrath, let it be me alone. As for my 'so called husband,' he lies dead by the brook, having offered willingly his life to free a hundred souls from enchantment."

Her father seemed to relax at her words, for no permanent harm had been done, but she had not finished, "I cannot endure endless life without my beloved, instead, I shall follow him into mortality and eventually into death. One mortal lifetime shall be enough for me to endure my grief and then I shall see what lingers beyond the confines of this world."

Her father stared at her, "this is madness! Worse even than saving a mortal's life and taking him as husband! Do not do this! Have you no compassion?"

She smiled sadly, "yes, perhaps too much, at least to your thinking. I shall spend it on some needful, mortal cause and thus spend my days in content. Farewell father, I am sorry to cause you grief if such is the case but rather I think mortification is more the cause of your disquiet. If it gives you comfort, forget that you ever had such a child."

She turned and left the astonished pair and knelt beside Garret. The fear in the hermit's eyes had been replaced by a twinkle of anticipation while her father was frozen in horror. She kissed the cold, inert lips and immediately warmth and life flooded back into what she thought had been a corpse. The old hermit let out a joyous whoop while her father went to his knees in amazement. The hermit had seen the boy's chest fluttering slowly as the dying boy fought for every breath, but the others had missed it during their intense confrontation.

Garret stared up into the eyes of his beloved and smiled, "what happens if I kiss you again?"

Her face was aglow with delight as she murmured, "a pity we will never know." They embraced, as two people might who have just survived some catastrophic adventure together, and then gained their feet. Erinea whispered in joy, "I thought you were dead!"

Garret nodded, "as did I, but apparently only blood, not a man's life, was required of him." He smiled, "and you have again restored me to life!" Only then did he notice that they were not alone and that he liked very little the look upon the stranger's face.

Erinea said weakly, "Garret, this is my father." Garret awkwardly made the proper courtesies, at least as they were practiced among men, but the elder Undine just stared stonily at him.

Finally he growled, "it seems my daughter has a fondness for you, mortal that you are." He took a resigned breath and said, "but I suppose she must be allowed to do as she pleases, as is every other adult member of our race, but do not suppose any of us will ever consider you a true Undine. Your schemes to become immortal will avail you nothing! We will never accept you among us, yet you shall outlive all you once loved among mortal men. It would be far wiser for you to live out your appointed days and leave us to ourselves, but you will both do as it pleases you." He dove into the brook and vanished from sight.

The hermit stared after him in wonder and then turned to the pair with a knowing twinkle in his eyes, "I knew there was something uncanny about you lady; I had my suspicions but knew nothing for certain. Whatever he said about not being welcomed anywhere, know that you are both always welcome here, such as it is." They bowed courteously to him and then exchanged a joyous smile, knowing they had at least one friend in the wide world.

Garret sighed heavily as he again faced his beloved, "we have laid your family scandals to rest, now I must face my own."

She smiled eagerly and he looked at her askance, "you look forward to what is to come?" She laughed like a tinkling brook, "I dreaded my father's reaction above all things, but that is over and you are still at my side, what more have I to fear or dread? You forget my love, that your villainous relations can do little to thwart you, however you choose to act."

His own smile returned and an eager light burned in his eyes, "I forget that I am a helpless boy no longer and any adventure must be pleasant with such a companion! Let us away, ere my brother causes more mischief." They bowed to the flummoxed hermit and vanished once more into the ever-laughing brook. He shook his head in bewildered amusement, wondering what quest the strange pair was off to this time; he hoped they would return and tell him all the tale.

They surfaced in a small pond just within the borders of the forest, not far from the great castle that had once been Garret's home. Said he, wistfully gazing at the distant structure, "to think it is my home no longer." He felt a comforting hand upon his shoulder and he turned to gaze into the eyes that meant more to him than beloved memory. She returned his smile, as he finished, "but now my home is gladly wherever you are." He frowned, "a pity we must return afoot."

She laughed and turned towards the pond, barely touching the surface with one finger, and drew back well pleased as a pair of richly saddled horses lunged out of the water. He stared at the horses and then at his beloved, a slow smile growing on his lips as he realized the creatures were merely a watery enchantment rather than flesh and blood, but they would suffice. They mounted up and galloped joyously towards the castle, eager to expose the murderous ambitions of the King's youngest son.

The advent of the late Prince into the castle proper caused immediate silence as the amazed onlookers thought they looked upon a ghost, but suddenly they erupted in joy as they realized he was no phantasm but their own beloved Prince. They were even more eager to know who the bewitching lady was that accompanied his unanticipated return. The guards had been out searching for the lad for several days but had found only the blood-soaked ground and no other clue as to what had come of him or his companions. His parents and younger brother were immediately informed, with the former rushing joyously to the courtyard to greet their missing son while the latter muttered darkly under his breath but hastened after his parents to see the truth for himself. He was astonished to see his brother not only alive, but accompanied by a stunning young woman; if he ever got his hands on those treacherous servants they would rue that they had ever been born.

Garret exchanged joyous greetings with his parents and gave his brother an all too knowing look that promised more than foul words to come. An unwelcome chill of dread ran down Tyne's spine and for a moment he knew fear, but he savagely buried the sensation and began plotting how to rectify this dangerous situation. They went in to supper and great was the joy therein, for all save Tyne. After the evening meal, Garret pled exhaustion and begged to be excused, but his lady offered to keep company with the King and Queen as late as they might desire. The brothers exchanged a knowing look and retreated to a private garden. Garret had given only the vaguest explanation as to where he had been and what had come of him, but in their joy at his return, his parents had little noticed this, but it ate like a canker at Tyne's furious heart.

They withdrew together to their favorite childhood haunt and once the only door was locked behind them, they stared silently at one another but they needed no words. Tyne was unrepentant in what he had done, his ill-contained fury yet smoldered just below the surface, ready to ignite if his self-control wavered even minutely. Garret felt another pang of anguish, knowing he had lost his brother utterly and that for the sake of the Kingdom, he must face justice. If he were even a little sorry for what he had attempted there might be hope, but he was only upset because his treachery had apparently failed, not because he had tried to have his brother killed.

"You wish to try again?" said Garret sadly.

Tyne snarled tersely, "of course!"

Garret shook his head, "I would not advise it."

Tyne smiled mirthlessly, "and how do you propose to stop me?"

Garret smiled coldly, "that you will discover should you try, but it is ill-advised. You would be better served to confess what you have done and seek the King's mercy."

Tyne mocked, "of course, why did I not think of that?"

Garret said grimly, "justice will be served but I will allow you this chance to choose how."

Tyne scoffed, "your graciousness astounds me, oh most magnanimous of brothers."

Garret said quietly, "if you will not go to the King, you may ride off on some valiant quest, never to return, else I will be forced to deal with you myself." Tyne's only reply was to laugh uncontrollably for the next three minutes. Garret said stonily once his brother's guffaws had ceased, "I take it you refuse to act as you ought?"

Tyne wiped away a tear and said with only a trace of mirth, "of course I refuse! Take your revenge if you must!" He collapsed again into convulsing laughter and Garret was left standing in silent consternation, wondering how best to manage this grim situation.

Tyne gained control of himself once more, and as he gained his feet, a malicious smile touched his lips as vengeance sparkled in his eyes. He drew a dagger from a hidden sheath and leapt upon his insolent brother, stabbing him countless times in the back and chest, but Garret only shook his head sadly as the vicious boy struck futilely again and again. Finally, Tyne realized his attack had no effect whatsoever upon his brother and dropped the knife in dread, a look of terror filling his eyes. "I warned you," said Garret grimly as he grasped his brother's cold, trembling hand; they melted together into a puddle, leaving the garden silent and empty with only the moon looking on. They surfaced in that quite eventful brook that chattered ceaselessly near the old hermit's cottage. Garret left his brother gasping and quivering on the bank and dashed to the crumbling shanty, where he knocked vigorously upon the door. The hermit emerged, yawning and rubbing his eyes, not surprised at such a guest at such an hour. His eyes grew wide as he glimpsed a figure by the creek, just starting to sit up and glance around in terror.

Said the hermit, "what can I do for you lad?"

Garret shook his head, "I need an objective judge in a case of attempted fratricide." They returned to the trembling figure and Garret told the full tale to the astonished Sage while Tyne glowered in silence.

Finally the hermit asked of the terrified boy, "is it true?"

Snarled he, "of course, fool! Now finish it!"

The Sage shook his head, "what is to be done with him?"

Garret said grimly, "I had hoped you would have some idea as to a proper fate."

"Enough!" snarled the irate boy, "neither of you cowards have the nerve! Neither will I let you have the satisfaction!" With that, he dove head first into the shallow brook, snapping his neck, and ending all dispute in the matter of what was to be done. Garret exchanged a startled look with the hermit, thanked him for his time, and once more took hold of his brother but this time bore him home. The next morning, the youngest Prince was found near the woods with his neck broken and his horse running loose nearby, apparently he had fallen while riding, which while grievous to his parents, was far less appalling than the idea that their son was a murderous traitor.

After the sorrow had grown less acute, Garret said quietly to the King, "my lady and I wish to see something of the world. We will return now and then as dutiful children ought, but perhaps it would be best if the throne go to my sister, who has been visiting my aunt these past months."

The King stared at his son in amazement, but something told him argument on this point was futile; he drew his son into a great hug and wished him well upon his adventures. Garret said his farewells to his mother, took his lady's hand, and they rode out of view before vanishing from that place for a very long time, but as he had promised, so did they return on occasion and upon his father's death, the throne passed to his sister and her children after her. After the decease of his sister many years later, no longer did they visit his old home thereafter, for the world was full of wonders yet that they had not seen. The old hermit remained their dearest friend and frequently were they found haunting the familiar brook and humble cottage until the man ceased to tread mortal paths. After, no legend tells what came of Garret and his lady, but it can be assumed they lived, 'happily ever after,' despite the grim pronouncements of the lady's father.

When that which drew from out the boundless deep

Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,

And after that the dark!

And may there be no sadness of farewell,

When I embark;

For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place

The flood may bear me far,

I hope to see my Pilot face to face

When I have crost the bar.

~Lord Alfred Tennyson, 'Crossing the Bar'~

Wisp

The light danced tantalizingly in the distance and like one enthralled, Alic followed dazedly after. The golden blue of twilight deepened into the diamond spattered black of full night and ever the laughing, dancing azure light drew him on, determined to find the cause of its joy. The squelching protest of the mud and its icy fingers creeping into his boots suddenly broke the spell, as Alic awoke to find himself knee deep in a hopeless mire and still sinking. The more he struggled, the faster his descent; his mind panicked but he forced his body to stillness, hoping to postpone the inevitable long enough for some miracle to happen. The light, like some pixie's laugh, flitted back to where its pursuer struggled in the fen, hovering four paces from the trapped boy, its light casting the bog into eerie patterns of stark light and deep shadow. The boy's plight seemed of little concern to the bobbing luminescence, and if anything, its weaving and darting seemed to intensify in eagerness rather than alarm. It hovered there in anticipation, like some carrion bird waiting to descend upon his carcass. He smiled wryly, at least the bog would consume him utterly, leaving no bones for such scavengers to pick.

Time passed in excruciating slowness as the mire swallowed its victim alive. Nothing changed but how deep Alic lay in the mud, now up to his chest and impatient for his inevitable end, if only to end the suspense and despair that now encompassed him. He scoffed at the quivering light, "is this what you intended? What gain can it be to you? Can you do nothing but dance in anticipation at such an end?"

A voice answered, but not one the boy expected, this was a scratchy, feminine sound, and not anything like what he had anticipated from such an ethereal source, but then it was not the light that had spoken, said she, "the wisp can do nothing you fool! But it can gain much by luring you to your death, at least if you will let it. Death need not be all your future."

The boy, now up to his neck, turned his head as much as the mire would allow and gasped in astonishment to see the source of the voice. A woman older than time itself, or so it seemed, with lank coarse hair hanging in sheets like so many lichens and more wrinkles than face, stood beside him with a look of utter delight and contempt on her face, as if she enjoyed the spectacle before her. Said he, "what do you mean?"

She laughed cruelly, "it is simple. Accept my offer and be spared your imminent demise, else you can vanish from living memory and allow this silly wisp to reap its reward." The light seemed to quiver in agitation as she spoke, uneasy about the offer she was about to make, which only increased Alic's interest. She continued, "you must simply agree to cede your life, your soul, your being to me. You will lose it soon enough anyway, so what have you to lose?" The wisp became frenetic as she spoke, as if urging the boy not to listen to the witch, but whether in terror at what the boy's fate might be should he accept or in fear of losing whatever it gained via his death, Alic did not know.

Now up to his chin, Alic gasped out in terror, "what does this deal avail me?"

She cackled harshly, "you have little time if you wish to thwart fate, which is your sole reward. Are we agreed?"

The light was turning spirals of agony, but with no time remaining, Alic gurgled out, the mud now in his mouth, "anything witch, let your deal be struck!"

Her laugh was terrifying in its delight, even as he spoke the words, he felt his physical form grow cold as death and felt it sucked forever beneath the mire, yet whatever was himself, did not follow his physical shell into eternal night. Instead he hovered, another will-o-the-wisp, a hand's-breadth above the fen. The new wisp shuddered in horror as the crone's laugh continued to echo through the miry hollow. The light had no eyes per say, but it could see quite well in the whelming gloom, noticing vaguely that the fell woman appeared slightly younger, or at least less worn.

She turned dancing eyes that held no mirth upon the terrified wisp, said she in grim amusement, "congratulations wretch! You have traded an honest death for slavery in perpetuity; you have become a nonentity, a thing in the world but not of it; neither living nor dead. Never at rest, always alone! Your youth and vitality have I sapped to extend my own life and now you can do naught but my will, slave that you are. A pity you can do nothing but dance and flit about, which limits your usefulness quite dreadfully. How can you be free of this wretched state? You have cheated death and only thereby may you be freed: either submit willingly to your own or lure some fool to his and hope I do not find him first, as was the case with you." She laughed dreadfully and said with scorn, "flit off until I call for you. Shoo!" The two lights fled in terror from her presence but her hateful laughter pursued them relentlessly into the darkness.

They quivered in terror for a few moments after they had stayed their flight in some hidden dell of the boggy wood and one faced the other, whether enemies or fellow victims, their dread of the witch and their grim fate forced them into uneasy companionship. They could not speak in words but one could somehow feel the meaning of the other. The wisp that was Alic turned on its fellow with a wrath built of horror, despair, fear, and dread. The poor creature shuddered before his fury and asked if Alic would not now act the same to free himself from this fate? His fury suddenly abated in perplexed horror, would he? Could he do anything but? Could he face his own death or forever abide in this quivering form? The price of his freedom was death, his own or someone else's; he had already agreed to this reprehensible bargain to avoid his own. It must be another's blood, else all was lost. He turned to the other, understanding at last accomplished between them.

But another uneasy thought occurred to him, would it truly be life that was salvaged from the situation or something worse? The witch was too cunning and fond of cruelty to allow such a seemingly easy escape from her clutches, look what this wretched bargain had cost, would not deepening the evil make it worse? Alic looked to the other, which seemed never to have considered the possibility and they both shuddered. What was to be done? A small voice whispered in their hearts, but they staunchly ignored its tremulous wails and pondered the matter further, what was the harm in trying? They could always abandon the quest if the cost became too dear, perhaps there was no further treachery in the mix and they could be truly free! They knew it to be a thin facade and a lie through and through, but it was a far better matter to contemplate than the alternatives so they clung to it with all their beings. But how to accomplish it? The other light danced excitedly and Alic followed eagerly after, wondering what it intended.

Alic felt all of time and space shifting around them, as if such matters were of little consequence to beings no longer trapped within a mortal shell, yet Alic also felt a blotch or a smudge on the whole ethereal landscape about him, as if he were an intruder, an interloper, an onlooker who did not belong and had no part in the things around him. The mortal world was no longer his home but he had denied whatever it was that came after, instead determining to linger amidst the dust and shadows of what had been rather than embracing what should be yet finding no part in either. He felt a dove lost over a vast and trackless sea, with no place to alight and no sign of a resting place on all the watery horizon. He turned his contemplations from these grim thoughts and focused outward, on whatever it was his companion intended.

It was daylight, and the wisps were not even visible in the terrible light of the sun. They trembled in that dreadful glare, being now creatures of the shadows and dusk, and sought refuge from the awful light. They hovered under the eves of the stable in the courtyard of some great castle and Alic quivered in interest as his companion made his intentions known. A pair of royal brothers lived in this place, dear friends from boyhood and now upon the brink of manhood, if the pair could be provoked into a duel through jealousy either for the crown or the hand of some fair maid, then perhaps the cost of their freedom could be met. The wisps could whisper unseen into the thoughts of these young men and perhaps persuade them to act more rashly than they otherwise might. Alic took the elder while his companion ghosted after the other. At first he flinched back from the price another must pay for his own freedom, but he consoled himself in knowing he would be freeing his companion likewise and he found a grim delight in whispering incendiary half truths into the mind of the vulnerable young prince, giving actions, words, and looks meanings they did not contain. This of course was what the witch had intended from the first, delighting as she did in death, pain, and chaos; they were more truly her slaves in this than if she had directed them to do it.

As the days passed, the friendship between the brothers grew cold and animosity festered between them. The elder feared the younger was after his crown and the younger that his brother had turned a fond eye upon his beloved. The court, their family, and the servants watched in growing dread as the fires of hatred and jealousy roared to life and all knew the only outcome could be tragedy for one or both. One grim evening, without a word, both came to a cold agreement that all should be decided this night, for good or for ill. They took their swords, mounted their horses, and rode silently into the surrounding forest. Their mother, watching with tear filled eyes from an upper window, said a silent prayer that her sons might somehow be spared this doom, one at the hand of the other.

The wisps ghosted after the grim princes, anticipating their own freedom at last! For months had they whispered and suggested and this night would see the fulfillment of all their plans. 'But at what cost?' came the gentle whisper of a vagrant breeze. 'What price must another pay?' mocked the stars over head. 'Would this be true freedom or slavery of a worse sort?' echoed a brook as they passed. A cricket sang far too merrily, 'how is life to come of death?' The wisps grew uneasy as their own hearts cried out in horror at what they were about to do. But the only alternative was their own deaths. 'Yes,' rustled the leaves overhead, 'but was not death an inevitable part of life? Would they rather be as the hag, existing forever upon stolen life and joy though never truly living?'

The princes drew rein, dismounted, drew their swords, and turned to face one another, hate and rage glowing in their fierce young eyes. Wait! Screamed that once poisonous voice in each young mind, is this not your brother, once your best friend? Has it truly come to this? Lies, all lies, and nothing more! Hesitation replaced wrath, perplexity scorn. Two sets of wondering eyes each sought the other and swords were thrown down in disgust and horror at what might have been. The brothers ran to each other and poured out their broken hearts, one atop the other. Each smiled ruefully and tried to begin again. They turned away from the clearing and walked away from the relieved wisps, horrified at what they might have wrought. Then they trembled in utter terror as the hag appeared in their midst with a delighted cackle, "what a pity you lost your nerve at the last, it might have been wonderful, but alas, what is to be expected from such weak and pitiful cowards who would sell their souls to spare their lives?"

She squawked in indignation as her wisps exchanged a meaningful thought and then one after the other winked out of existence. Alic found himself again an occupant of his mortal shell, at least for the moment it took him to gasp back to life, inhale a lungful of mud, and succumb to the fate that should have befallen him months ago. The darkness seized him instantly but a bright, dancing light called him out of the shadows at last.

On Bad Poetry, An Example:

It seems to me,

That poetry

Must always rhyme

and be in time.

For you see,

Bad poetry,

Is some thing,

Of a rum thing

That anyone can do,

which is all too true.

Like this grand verse,

Could be far worse

If it went on,

Forever, anon.

But, rejoice my friend,

This is the end!

On Princesses: A Foible

### By: Susan Skylark

### Copyright 2013 Susan Skylark

### Smashwords Edition

### Revised 2014

### This is a foible, not a fable, fables are by definition useful and educational, this story is merely enjoyable or so thinks the author.

What people are saying about this story:

"Complete nonsense! What is the world coming to? Do not let your kids read this book..." --Pedagogy Monthly.--

"...full of stereotypes and affronts, only reinforces the stigma society already holds for small dogs and their pet parents..." --The Lap Dog Gazette--

"A curious look at a case involving dwarvish consumption of fried foods and the possible consequences thereof..." \--The Journal of Dwarvish Gastroenterology--

"A story full of hope for an overlooked and underrated subclass of society; yes, my fellow nerds, there is a chance for love and adventure, just not in the real world, as we have long maintained." ---RPG Today--

"I liked it...what are we talking about again? Tacos? Yeah, I like tacos...not tacos?"

\--Anonymous Undergrad after a busy night out--

Table of Contents:

The Beginning

Somewhere in the middle

Near the End

Once upon a time in a land far away (as all such lands certainly are), there was born a Princess, and like all such royal children, her birth caused quite a stir in the Kingdom, for certainly this was a herald of troubles to come, for is it not so in all such tales? Quite sensibly therefore, in anticipation of this unknown but very certain threat to his Crown and Kingdom, the King sent his only child away for her sake and for all other sakes in the Kingdom. With a sigh of relief and a bit of grief, the loving but dutiful parents sent their child into another world where she might remain until the Appointed Time when the threat of all potential disasters would be long past and she could return safely to the realm. The place where the wizards banished the poor dear was a weird and wild place, filled with all manner of strange and bizarre creatures, and this was the opinion of people who had seen unicorns and dragons and centaurs.

It was a place where no sane villain (and very few of the crazy ones) would think to look for such a personage, for what parent would dare send their beloved child There? Besides for the inanity of sending a royal child to such a place (which was precisely the reason to do it), there was also the fact that it would be the perfect place for her to grow up and learn all the things children of noble birth must know: namely that oneself is the most important entity in the known universe. For the citizens of this strange and distant land had long ago forgotten their past, cared little for their futures, and could really care less about anyone but themselves. It was a whole civilization of folk who thought they were aristocrats or at least thought they should be. It was perfect! Or at least it should have been, for the one problem with raising a completely self-absorbed person is trying to get them to notice or do anything not immediately associated with themselves.

"Gertrude!" shrieked a prissy female at the top of her lungs and voice range, "Gertrude! I am in desperate need of your help! Eeek!"

Gertrude dashed up the stairs at her sister's frantic call for aide, which in itself was not disturbing, for Clarisse must cry out in vexation at least a dozen times a day, but that she would ask for help from her sister was nearly unthinkable. She either sought help from her indulgent parents, her elder but not wiser sister Missy, or from one of the equally flighty young women who always seemed to hang about her like the pox, but never would she deign to demand the assistance of her geeky twin sister. It must be something truly desperate indeed to draw such a cry for help when Gertrude was the only person within auditory range capable of rendering aide. Gertrude dashed into the bathroom where Clarisse was putting the finishing touches on her hours' long morning ritual only to find the whole morning's labor disfigured by a look of utter horror. Now this look on anyone else might cause the observer a moment of pity but it occupied Clarisse's face so often that those familiar with her seldom seemed to notice save in times of dire emergency such as this. The panic filled eyes were focused on the bathroom mirror which had moments ago displayed only her gorgeous countenance but now her visage was obscured by a rather lengthy message scrawled out within the mirror itself, for no amount of wiping or scratching would efface the writing.

Shrieked Clarisse as Gertrude ran into the little room, "what can it mean? Oh, what can it mean? How can hackers and telemarketers have gained access to my bathroom mirror? I have already destroyed or deleted this message many times over, only to have it appear here!" Gertrude was quite intrigued and even on the tingling verge of that excitement every true geek knows when an adventure is before them. She read the message again and again, and with each reading her smile deepened while Clarisse could only stare at her in growing mystification. Finally she groused, "why are you smiling like an idiot? This had better not be some trick of your nerdy friends!"

Gertrude faced her twin sister and said, "how could you have let this go for so long? It says quite plainly that this is the five thousand one hundred and sixth time this message has been relayed! How can you be so oblivious? What other messages have you received?"

Clarisse smiled frivolously and said, "oh, they have tried to contact me by every means possible. They even sent me a letter! Who sends letters in this day and age? I cannot get away from this harassment, even in my own bathroom! Every means by which to communicate has been tried and has failed, for I will not believe these hackers, whoever they are. Are you sure this is not some weird trick from your even weirder friends?"

Gertrude laughed grimly, "my friends are too enlightened to try entangling you in such a plot. They would never waste their time." She sighed deeply, "But alas, it is real and for some reason beyond comprehension this adventure has fallen to you." She brightened then and said, "of course I must come with you because you will be completely inept upon such a quest."

Clarisse gaped, "you believe this nonsense? You really think this is wise or safe or socially acceptable?" Gertrude laughed as she grabbed her sister's hand and drew her out of the bathroom and down the hall towards the bedrooms, saying, "it is certainly none of those but you are not going to miss this if I can help it!" Clarisse was too mystified to do anything but follow in confused astonishment.

The full text of the writing was as follows, "My Dearest Madam, please be informed that we have tried reaching you by various means, on several occasions (5,106 to be exact). We were loath to send this message in this manner as it is quite intolerable to separate one's royal personage from one's royal reflection but we are quite desperate. Please proceed to the Park and enter the first horse drawn vehicle you encounter and all will be well. If you fail in this endeavor many lives, including possibly your own, shall be grievously touched. Ever Yours, The Royal Secretary of Lofrenier." Clarisse could not comprehend in the least what Gertrude knew almost before she read the message: it must be magical and therefore an adventure, but who was senseless enough to ask for help from such a person as Clarisse? Regardless, this thing must be done and there was no way that Gertrude was going to miss it.

They stopped in Clarisse's room and Gertrude ransacked her as until now forbidden closet. She finally drew forth a long dress that might be just the thing, or as close to the thing as she could convince Clarisse to wear in public. Clarisse was aghast to see Gertrude digging in her closet but then even more mortified when she demanded that she wear last year's prom dress out in the streets! The poor old dress was so terribly out of fashion that Clarisse would be forced to remain out of social reach for at least a week if she were foolish enough to give in to her sister's ravings. Gertude solved this small problem by dashing from the room and presenting her sister with a veil. At first Clarisse had no idea what the filmy material was and then it occurred to her that she could then appease her sister (also something she had never done) and also be out and about without causing a riot and being recognized as she had feared. As she donned the clothing, still not understanding but so shocked with the morning's events that she dared not defy her sister, Gertrude dashed from the room and returned almost instantly garbed in one of those weird ensembles she insisted on wearing to Medieval Fairs and Sci-Fi Conventions but this outfit was much more appropriate to the former than the latter.

"You look like Robin Hood," laughed Clarisse, as Gertrude tied up the back of her dress.

Gertrude grinned and said, "one of us had better. Come my Lady!" They donned a pair of cloaks (also quite unfashionable) and made their way out the door and towards the park.

"I still can't believe we are doing this," said Clarisse as they entered the park.

Gertrude grinned and said, "I cannot believe you are doing this, but I can easily believe I am doing this."

Clarisse nodded dully, remembering all the times her weird sister had dressed up to attend movie premiers, book signings, and conventions. On their own street, had there been anyone to observe they might have been remarked, but in the park they were quite overlooked as the various denizens thereof were even more aberrantly arrayed than themselves. There were the punk kids with their tattered clothes, chains, tattoos, and interesting hair colors. There was a wedding party posing for pictures. There was a herd of young people wearing nothing but black, complete with stygian hair and make-up. There were clowns and street performers and old ladies with blue hair, and in the mix no one noticed the pair of oddly clad young ladies. They had circled the park halfway when finally a vehicle drawn by something of vaguely equine descent stood waiting as had the Handsome Cabs of London in bygone years. Clarisse gave one desperate look to her sister who only laughed excitedly and drew her into the buggy.

The door closed behind them, the driver whipped up the beast, and off they rattled. It was completely dark in the little carriage, for the windows were covered and the doors were shut. Clarisse wondered if perhaps she had wandered into a bad dream. Gertrude was so happy she hoped she would not wake up and spoil it; her only disappointment was that her sister seemed to be the heroine of this tale rather than herself. They rattled on for what seemed hours but was perhaps only five minutes when the driver stopped the creature pulling the vehicle, descended from his perch, and opened the door while bowing deeply to its occupants. They stood before an enormous castle that blushed crimson with the rising sun. A middle aged man and woman, both handsome and wearing crowns, stood upon the great steps and stared in wonder at Clarisse; they had yet to notice Gertrude in their excitement.

Finally the woman spoke, "welcome home Princess!"

Gertrude gaped, "you are a princess? Well, I should have known! That explains everything!"

"And who is this?" asked the man in some amusement.

Clarisse stuttered, quite overcome, "my sister."

The Royal pair exchanged an amused smile and the Queen said gently, "but child, you have no siblings. Perhaps she is your adopted sister but certainly she is not of Royal Blood."

Clarisse's eyes widened with shock and she said joyfully, "we are not related? That is wonderful! I knew she was too strange to be a blood relative! I at first suspected aliens, but I suppose this is a reasonable alternative. What did you say about me being a Princess?" Quickly the whole tale was told about how the girl's birth was certainly a proclamation of doom and how she had been sent to another world for everybody's sake and how her mother in that strange land had only had one baby but somehow everyone thought she had had two quite unidentical twins. And now, the time had come for Clarisse to marry and live happily ever after. Clarisse gaped, "but how can I marry someone I do not even know? Maybe if he is a Prince and terribly handsome..."

Said the King, "certainly he is a Prince and Princes by definition must be handsome. You must marry him or Dread Things might result."

Wailed Clarisse, "none of my friends can see me arrayed for a Royal Wedding?! This guy had better be handsome, rich, and a member of a popular boy band, or at least European."

The King and Queen exchanged a flummoxed look, not understanding the last part but the King replied soothingly, "worry not my dear, for the entire Kingdom shall see you so beautifully attired! Your fickle friends in that other world could never compare to those you shall certainly make in your true home."

The thought of being the most beautiful and popular woman in the Kingdom suddenly quieted the raging Clarisse, who then said upon further thought, "what if I do not like this Prince?"

Said the King grimly, "as I said, Dread Things will likely result. Know you not your history?"

Clarisse gaped, "how am I to know the history of a land I have never visited or even dreamed of? I hardly know anything about American history, or at least American history prior to the advent of the internet, which was when reality really began."

Gertrude could stand it no more, "Clarisse, are you an absolute imbecile? They are not speaking of a specific history but of the history of Fairyland in general. Have you never read a fairy tale?"

Clarisse shrugged, "does watching that cartoon with the singing mice count?"

The King was astonished at such disrespect for his daughter and at the weird name she apparently bore in The Other World. He said in a somewhat miffed tone, "my dear young lady! You must hereafter address your former sister as Her Royal Majesty the Princess Flufflebun." Clarisse turned red with shame or anger, perhaps both; she liked the sound of everything except the last part.

Gertrude asked pleasantly, though desperately concealing a laugh, "I beg your pardon Majesty, but I knew not your customs and old habits shall certainly die hard. May I beg to call Her Majesty 'Fluffy' or something less onerous in less than formal settings?"

The Queen smiled demurely and said, "that sounds a grand idea child, and we shall grant this strange request because you are sisters, at least in another world. It seems you know something of our history?"

Gertrude made a very proper courtesy to the Queen and said, "of your land in particular I know not even the name Majesty, but I am something of a scholar in Fairylore as it were, and know well the inevitability of the disaster of which you speak if Certain Things are not accomplished." Clarisse snorted in derision, thinking her sister too imbecilic to know anything of use or import.

The Queen nodded gravely and said, "and will your sister abide by our Royal Decree or shall we face the Consequences?"

Gertrude said quietly, "the decision must be hers Majesty but I pray her better nature wins out."

Clarisse grimaced, "I shall do as I think best...mother. Perhaps you should introduce me to Prince Charming before I make up my mind."

The King clapped his hands and servants rushed upon the small gathering like crows upon carrion, as he said, "that is a wonderful idea, my dear. His name is Prince Slofelling III, darling; Prince Charming LXVII, his younger brother, recently married some third-rate Princess of Glopenstein. He will be at the ball tonight, which celebrates your return to Lofrenier." Then the servants swept them off to prepare for the ball. The King said quietly to the Queen once the horde had vanished, "what think you my dear?"

The Queen sighed, "I am afraid we sent her to the wrong world. She is a bit too arrogant, but perhaps it is only the strangeness of the situation?" The King could only shake his head in commiseration.

Finally Clarisse's dream had come true: she had minions and lackeys galore; they would make her as beautiful as possible without her having to lift a finger! Thus giving her plenty of time to interrogate her annoying ex-sister, who was not quite so pleased to be going through such a dressing ritual. Clarisse demanded of Gertrude, as the servants fussed about their hair, "what exactly is going on? Why is everyone convinced that the end of the world is going to happen if I don't marry prince what's his name?"

Gertrude shook her head grimly, annoying the servants by disarraying the carefully coiled strands, "do you know nothing? In every single myth, legend, and fairy tale, Something Dreadful always happens when the Princess is about to marry. It may not be the end of the world but it will be Dreadful! You must marry this Prince and soon, or we all might be doomed."

Clarisse whined, "but I am too young to get married. Besides who gets married anymore, anyway? What if I do not like this guy?"

Gertrude said bluntly, "then you doom us all."

Clarisse sighed, "then I had better try at least. Marriage cannot be worse than death I suppose." The servants spent the better part of the day fussing over the ladies and finally they finished just ten minutes before the ball was to begin. Clarisse laughed for joy, she had never felt so regal. Even Gertrude, usually a bit of a tomboy, was pleased with the results.

A harried looking servant waited anxiously for the ladies to emerge from their toilette and after making the appropriate courtesies, said hastily, "your Majesty must hasten to follow me, else she shall be late for her grand entrance."

Clarisse er... Princess Flufflebun gasped and said, "how dreadful. Lead on young man!"

The servant bowed and scurried off as quickly as seemed proper for a royal heiress to proceed. Upon nearing the ballroom, he advised her Highness that once she heard the flourish of the trumpets, she must make her entrance through the curtains yonder. Her attendant could then inconspicuously follow after. Whether Clarisse or Gertrude were more incensed at the idea of the latter waiting upon the former, none will ever know, but at that moment the trumpets cried aloud, saving the poor servant from anything worse than two murderous feminine glares. Catching their meaning, he wisely chose to absent himself immediately from their presence. Clarisse then made her first official appearance as Princess Flufflebun and the courtiers and guests gathered in the ballroom went mad with delight. Gertrude allowed the uproar to die down and followed quietly after.

Gertude wandered about the heavily laden food tables, sampling the strange provender while her sister was gaily introduced to all and sundry by her overjoyed parents. After the extensive introductions and other formalities had been accomplished, it was time to dance, and dance they did. All night did they dance and did not retire until it was truly the dawning of the following day. Of course all the young gallants wished a chance to grace the floor with the stunning and long awaited Princess, but that honor fell almost exclusively to her affianced Prince. He was a splendid dancer and spent most of the night whirling her about to the envy and joy of all there present, thus Clarisse had very little idea of his personality but he was handsome even in his strange clothes, which sufficed for the present. Gertrude was not overly impressed with the Prince despite his good looks, for he did not deign to dance with nor even acknowledge the late sister of her Highness. But then no one paid her much heed, for she was wont to lurk in the shadows and watch all that went on, she had no title or riches, and who could pay attention to such an insignificant creature when the true Princess had returned? Mostly Gertrude was content to remain unnoticed, but somewhere deep within she felt a pang of sadness at the apparent apathy or even outright rejection of the court. She might say she needed no one's affirmation but like all mortal men, her soul quailed to think herself unloved of all men.

As morning made her presence known, the guests gratefully retreated to their beds. The Princess said goodnight to her newfound parents and in parting, they informed her that the wedding was to take place in three days, at which Clarisse gaped, whereupon her mother informed her gently that gaping was not a habit becoming in anyone, most especially a Princess of Lofrenier. Clarisse yawned widely, which gained her another brief admonition from her mother on the proper decorum befitting Princesses of Lofrenier, but she replied tiredly, "I had best get some sleep." Her parents agreed and a servant appeared to lead her to her chambers.

The exhausted and disappointed Gertrude followed reluctantly after. The servant eyed her strangely but decided that this bedraggled creature must be the strange lady's maid that had accompanied the Princess on her journey home, so he said nothing of her presence and admitted her Majesty to her chambers. Clarisse flopped herself down upon the grand bed and groaned, "oh, my aching feet! I am to marry in three days! What am I to do?"

Gertrude lay half somnolent in a chair and replied, "either marry the man or declare immediately that it cannot be and thus doom these poor folk to their fate."

Clarisse sighed, "at least he is handsome and rich. I am sure he must have some musical skill. It could be worse. Besides, I am starting to like this Princess thing. Though I must find myself a better entourage. Gertrude, you cannot be my constant attendant." Gertrude's only reply was a hearty snore. Once the ladies had wakened from their much needed slumber and after a hearty repast, the conversation was resumed. What was to become of Gertrude? Obviously Clarisse was resigned to her fate, but she could not abide having her nerdy sister ever underfoot, nor would Gertrude be happy in such a position. "Perhaps you could return home," mused Clarisse.

Gertrude gave her an astonished look, "and leave my only chance at living every geek's dream? I will make my own way in this strange new world and forget all that has been before."

Clarisse began to yawn but checked herself, trying to become the lady she must now be, "sounds like a plan to me. When do you leave?" Gertrude gave her a pathetic look, that might have twinged what little heart Clarisse might have at such a lack of fondness for her onetime sister, but it did not show upon her countenance. Sighed she, "well, I suppose you can come to the wedding, but then the entire Kingdom has been invited. Perhaps you can call?" Gertrude gave Clarisse a patient look, but she seemed oblivious to the fact that it would be many centuries yet before telephones invaded this hitherto peaceful land.

Gertrude stood, saying, "then this is goodbye Highness, and I wish you and yours all the best. Farewell." She left the room and Clarisse returned to her eggs, wondering if they might find her some ketchup somewhere.

Gertrude found a servant and asked if she might have an audience with the King. The servant replied that their Majesties were not to be disturbed but that the Steward might perhaps listen to her concerns. She followed her unhappy guide, who handed her off to the Steward. and then vanished once more upon his own interrupted errands. Said she to the venerable man before her, "sir, I would ask what is to be my own part in this tale? My late sister is content to take her appointed place yet I am alone and adrift in this strange land. Any boon you can offer me, gladly would I receive it."

The aged man said thoughtfully, "you seem an earnest maid and I have seen the disdain with which you have been treated. If you do not desire to remain here in the favor of our Princess, I will offer you what help I can in equipping you for a life elsewhere." And in so saying he did. Gertrude was soon clad as a peasant maiden and given a small supply of food and coins and those things necessary for a journey. She would rather have set out attired as she had arrived, but such was considered scandalous by those about her, save in times of dire need when the story required the heroine to garb herself as a man, thus to save her life. So it was that she set out sensibly, though girlishly clad, not knowing quite what to do with herself but with a rising sense of hope in knowing that in a place such as this, surely adventure must soon beset her.

She asked directions to the nearest Fairywood and the man said, "what sensible maid would venture thither? Only young heroes set out a'questing would dare such a thing, but do as you will." He then told her how to get there and off she went. The King and Queen were much disturbed to discover that the girl had vanished ere their waking, but dared make no fuss about the matter for reasons of their own. So involved was Clarisse with her own affairs that she was quite oblivious to the vanishment of her sister.

Gertrude followed the winding road for most of the day, it was a pleasant land of rolling hills and scattered trees, but the ever growing blotch on the horizon promised a great forest lay before her. She rested briefly beside the road beneath an agreeable tree to consume her midday meal, but was soon enough off, hoping to reach that mysterious wood before dark. About mid-afternoon, she stood on the edge of the forest. It was not one of those dark, scary woods where mostly dreadful things dwell, the kind that grow about witch's castles and where the undead seem to frequent; most of the residents were probably very much alive, by the look of it. The forest was as pleasant as the land without, she shouldered her satchel and walked boldly into the woods. One can tell much about a Fairywood by its appearance, much as one can tell a lot about a neighborhood by its upkeep. No self-respecting vampire or evil troll would be found in such a place. What with the birds chirping, squirrels doing whatever squirrels do, and actual sunlight reaching the forest floor, it was downright disgusting! There were no half-starved wolves, giant spiders, or even cursed pools of water. Instead there were bunnies, gobs and gobs of bunnies!

Yes, bunnies, so many bunnies that the wolves were all well fed and no true hero would dare show his face in such a place. Even the trees were polite in this bizarre forest. Which is why Gertrude met Steve as she entered the local chapter of the Fairywood. Steve, as you can tell by his unheroic name, was not much of a hero. He only hung out in this particular Fairywood so the real heroes would not laugh at him in the cooler Fairywoods of the world. When Gertrude first espied our valiant subhero, he was locked in mortal conflict with a butterfly, a foe almost as feared as the bunnies. It was hard to tell who was winning, but as the insect was not even aware of the combat, it was probably a draw. Suddenly the subhero noticed he had an audience and with one last, grand thrust, the butterfly flew idly away as the boy put up his sword. He bowed deeply to this humble maiden (one never knew if a strange woman might not be a princess or a witch in disguise, so it was always wise to be polite); she made the appropriate gesture in return. Suddenly a troop of the strangest looking creatures Gertrude had ever seen traipsed between them.

Steve said politely to their lost seeming leader, "there is nothing of interest here my good man, try the Dreadful Mountains about eighty leagues to the South. Good Hunting!" The goofy looking boy nodded his thanks and ordered his motley troop towards the south. She looked at Steve blankly and he shrugged, "just some lost tourists from The Other World. They pretend to come here and achieve great things while playing a weird sort of game with dice, sometimes their imaginations are so vivid they accidentally end up here in truth. But there's nothing of interest for them here, but there are all sorts of Dreadful Things in the Mountains."

Gertrude shook here head in astonishment, wondering if that was what nerds looked like when they grew up, a hideous thought indeed! "What exactly are you doing here yourself, sir?" queried the maiden.

Steve bowed expansively and said, "I am called Steve and I am not quite a hero."

"Steve?" asked she, "just plain Steve? What kind of a heroic name is that?"

He shrugged, "it's not, but then I'm not really much of a hero. All my brothers went off to fight an evil mage and got turned into quite respectable trees: oak, rowan, hickory. I went and he said he wanted to renew his subscription to 'Vile Spells Quarterly.'"

"Oh," said she with some disappointment, "my name is Gertrude and I am quite alone in this strange place with neither kith nor kin, I had been hoping to come across someone who might help me find my place in this peculiar land."

Steve brightened, dug around in his belt pouch for a moment, and pulled out a shiny silver badge that read, 'Official Guide.' He proudly pinned it on and Gertrude could only sigh, but could not refuse his help without being impolite. Just Plain Steve led the way deeper into the wood. Said he as they marched along, "it was quite providential that you found me, lady, for you undoubtedly need a place to stay for the night and I know the best inn in the forest. You will never sleep better than at the Inn of Glitch."

She raised her eyebrows, "the Inn of Glitch?"

Steve asked in surprise, "you have not heard of Glitch?"

She shook her head, "I am quite a stranger here."

He smiled in anticipation of regaling her with his vast knowledge of this rather unremarkable part of Lofrenier. "Glitch," he said, "is a prosperous community in the heart of the forest. It is home to many somewhat interesting people, some of whom are actually successful at whatever it is they are supposed to be or do. The rest are, well...outcasts, losers, failures, that sort of thing."

She frowned, "it is not a den of iniquity where all sorts of shady characters can be found?"

Steve said sadly, "it is nothing half so interesting, actually it is quite a nice sort of community."

"Nice?" came the aghast question.

Steve shuddered, "yes, nice. There is no more proper word to describe it. Even the adjectives are pathetic in such a place." What kind of a town could this be? She had never imagined anything so terrible!

They ambled along the lovely path for a good half hour until they came at last to what could only be Glitch (not to be confused with the Dwarf Punk Band of the same name). It was...well... nice! Lovely little cottages with well tended gardens and neat shops (yes, gasp, neat too!) lined the cobblestone streets; characters you might see in one of those movies with the singing mice smiled and waved at one another and occasionally broke into a choreographed singing and dancing routine. They stopped outside of the inn, which might have crawled out of a little girl's illustrated storybook, and Steve asked proudly, "well?"

Gertrude shook her head sadly, "it is certainly nice, neat, and well, rather dull."

Steve nodded, "it wasn't always so pleasant, but one of those good fairies came along and thought she was doing the town a favor by granting the residents unending peace and giddiness, such is the result. It is nice, but it is also very dull, especially once you've seen all the chorus numbers eighteen times. Shall we go in?" Gertrude nodded and preceded her guide into the picturesque inn.

It was early in the day so there was hardly anyone about except a fat, smiling innkeeper, the requisite cat on the hearthrug, and a few scattered individuals who could not stand another spontaneous chorus of, 'We Are So Happy it Hurts.' Gertrude allowed Steve to pull out a stool for her at one of the corner tables and then seated himself. She smiled, glad to know that chivalry was not dead in this strange country, nor was it even slightly under the weather. The innkeeper brought them the standard (and only) house brew while Steve took off his guide button that they might speak upon non-professional topics. She eyed him curiously; he shrugged and said, "it's a living." She nodded and he continued, "so what is your..."

She strained to hear the last word, "my what?" He mouthed the word again. She frowned, "my quest?"

Steve looked at her with horror filled eyes as the nearly deserted room suddenly burst into chaos. Any number of out of work and down on their luck adventure seekers suddenly swarmed about the table. It took Steve ten minutes to quiet the giddy throng as he tried to explain to Gertrude the dangers of mentioning the Q word in such a place. She could see the obvious results and promised never to do such a silly thing again. Once the assembled creatures were quiet, Steve sorted through them with comments like, "sorry Chicamomicamar, not today," and "we are not really in need of your magical sneezes." The disappointed has-beens and never-wases left with slumping shoulders and teary eyes until only three remained.

A tiny person stood on the end of the table, a llama with a horn on its nose looked at them eagerly, and a cloud of greenish-orange gas floated beside the llama. Steve made introductions, "this is Melvin the Giant." In a side whisper he added, "he's really an Imp but he thinks himself a Giant; it was all those self-esteem lectures they get in pixie school that did it, he really took them to heart." Louder, he continued, "this is Ludwig the rhinoceros and Stench the gaseous anomaly."

Gertrude frowned at Ludwig, "you look like a llama with a horn on your nose."

The camelid nodded, "is that not the definition of rhinoceros? Horned nose? I am precisely what I claim to be."

"I see," said she, though clearly she did not. She looked at the gas cloud, "what is a gaseous anomaly?"

Stench replied, "it is the result of a dwarf eating a deep fried burrito. The chemical reaction that occurs occasionally results in a product with a life of its own. Like me. Sadly, I am not considered appropriate in polite society."

Gertrude said in wonder, "you cannot help your upbringing I suppose."

She whispered to Steve, "why did you not get rid of all of them?"

He said in an undertone, "I could not have gotten rid of any of them if I had tried to be rid of them all. Don't blame me, you are the one who mentioned the Q word." He said for all to hear, "what then is our...agenda...my lady?"

Gertrude stared at him blankly and said, "I have no idea."

The entire company suddenly broke into excited cheers and eagerness lit their eyes. She stared at Steve for interpretation. He said, "most agendas that might be attempted in Lofrenier are too dangerous, complicated, or important to be risked by the likes of us. Your agenda, what little of it there is, sounds like one we can actually manage and in accomplishing it, we can become heroes and perhaps free ourselves from this absurd nonexistence."

She nodded in comprehension but asked, "then how do we know when we have accomplished our task?" She smiled in understanding, answering her own question, "we just set forth and whatever befalls us is our destined adventure."

Steve nodded, "precisely. We shall set out at dawn." He glanced around, but a look of disappointment crossed his face as he noticed that there were no shadowy figures about that might be plotting against them. Only the cat on the hearthrug paid them any attention at all, and that only a benign contempt

They went to bed at a reasonable hour and left at a quite unreasonable hour. This was dawn? Gertrude asked why they had been roused from their beds in the darkest hour of the night and Steve simply replied, "that is the proper hour to go adventuring." She sighed and continued to march along in silence, why did she persist in asking such silly questions?

The two humans walked, the gaseous anomaly (hereafter the GA) floated along, and the llamaceros trotted along with the Imp/Giant and the tavern cat on his back. Why the cat had decided to join them was anybody's guess, but then who, in any world, ever understands cats? Gertrude yawned another silly question, "are we not to soon meet a wizened old man to give us direction or pose us a riddle?"

Steve shrugged, "as there are no real heroes in this wood, there is little need for a Wise Man, but Wise Guys we have aplenty. I would be content if we were spared such company, myself." The assorted company muttered their agreement, but as always happens in fairy stories, once the question had been spoken aloud, it was not too many chapters later that the prophecy fulfilled itself. And so did Hamric the Disgraced Comedian join their enigmatic company. They found the poor fellow sitting forlornly on the side of the road and though Steve hastened their pace, it was too late. He joined their party as they jogged past and immediately began telling jokes that were old even in this Medieval world. Steve said in an undertone, to Gertrude's aghast face, "that is what happens when you inadvertently insult a witch in a nightclub." She shivered and hoped such a ghastly fate would never befall her. They marched on.

They stopped at daybreak for a much needed rest and some breakfast. Hamric proved his usefulness to the company by producing a Hat of Unspoiling Bounty. He took off his magical headgear and from it produced a can of semi-edible pork product, a plastic wrapped, crème-filled sponge cake, and a case of diet cola. It was not the organic, froufrou elvish fare sometimes found in such tales, but it kept them fed, even the GA would not stoop to eating tofu though maybe the cat would, you never know with cats. As they ate, Gertrude asked, "are any of you going to the wedding?"

They stopped eating and stared at her in astonishment. The Imp intoned, "silly girl, I am not getting married." His ego could not fathom attending an event not featuring himself.

Steve asked, "you mean The Wedding?! I had not heard the Princess had returned! When is it?"

Gertrude said, "the day after tomorrow."

Steve paled, "so He has two days to wreak havoc ere Happily Ever After sets in."

Gertrude frowned, "who is He?"

Steve said in confusion, "you do not know who He is?" Gertrude shook her head as Steve asked, "what world are you from?" She shrugged and he continued, "He is the Dark Lord, the ultimate evil in our world."

She asked, "what is His name?"

Steve shook his head, "no one knows. It was so long and unpronounceable that it was forgotten long ago. He is simply He, Him, the Dark Lord, or He Who Cannot Be Pronounced, if you are being formal."

Gertrude asked, "why would He want to stop the wedding?"

Steve replied, "He cannot stand Happily Ever After, it does horrible things to the morale of his Minions. They get the idea that they should live Happily Ever After too. And we all know that is a ridiculous aspiration for a Minion. A Minion's sole task in life is to die by the hundreds in pointless conflict, they can't do that if they want to live happily ever after. So He will stop at nothing to see that it does not come to pass. We had better head back to the capital and see if we can intercede between the Princess and the Dark Lord before it is too late." Like a well trained army, they packed up their strange rations and marched hastily back the way they had come, hoping they would not arrive too late. Had the Princess known they intended to crash her wedding, she would have refused to proceed with the whole affair.

By sunset, the bizarre little band had arrived in the capital city and lost themselves in the crowd. Gertrude felt like she was in the midst of the best fantasy convention she could imagine, never had she seen so many interesting and fantastic creatures, except that time she went to a midnight movie at the bargain cinema back home. Steve said thoughtfully, "we need a way to get into the wedding."

Gertrude grinned impishly and led the party to the great square where the festivities would be held the next morning. "What are you doing?" gasped the flummoxed unhero.

She took a seat and motioned for the others to do the same saying, "we are getting our seats. There is an open invitation for the entire Kingdom to come so we might as well get good seats."

Steve was perplexed, "who would come so early only to secure a place at an event that will not occur for twelve hours or more?"

Gertrude laughed, "you would not believe what people would do where I come from just to be first in line." Steve did not look any less confused but he took his place and wearily waited for dawn.

They roused from their uncomfortable doze when the early guests started seating themselves. A regal lady in her middle years seated herself next to the GA and stared in horror at Steve who sat on its other side, thinking he had done the unspeakable. He smiled sheepishly and continued to scan the area, looking for any sign of trouble. He need not have bothered, nothing exciting happened until the presentation of the bride when the cat dashed from his seat, grabbed the girl, and suddenly vanished. Steve muttered, "I knew we should have never trusted a cat." He looked at the others, "come on, we have a magazine to deliver."

As if this made perfect sense, they followed him unquestioningly, but were stopped short as the King bellowed, "not so fast. You cannot leave until that girl is married."

Gertrude stared at the King, aghast, "why ever for? It is not as if I am a princess or anything nearly so interesting."

"But you are," said the smiling Queen.

Steve smacked his forehead, "of course! Why did I not think you would so hide the real princess? But are we not to rescue the poor girl?"

The Queen's answer calmed the quite worried frown that creased Gertrude's brow, at least until she processed the meaning of the last bit, "certainly you must rescue the poor creature, but not before the Princess is properly married, thereafter she may do as it pleases her."

"Wait," gasped Gertrude, "you mean I am the true princess Flufflebun and have to marry Prince what's his name?"

"Certainly not," said the King, "what a ridiculous name for a royal personage!" Gertrude began to relax but the King had not finished, "your true name is Marguerite Johanna Eloise Penelope VIII."

Gertrude, er Marguerite grimaced, "much better, truly."

The Queen added, "and you may marry the man of your choosing, as long as he isn't an enchanted tree or something."

Gertrude protested, "but I don't know anyone well enough to marry them."

The Queen shook her head, "well, the longer you dither the more danger your adoptive sister will find herself in."

Gertrude sighed, "Steve?"

The hero-wannabe gasped, "me? Seriously?"

She smiled grimly, "you might be a lousy hero but you are a decent fellow and the only eligible guy I know in this bizarre land."

Steve shrugged and a hasty wedding followed with much rejoicing (and an even greater sigh of relief). The requisite fairy godmother appeared shortly after the nuptials to bless the couple with the usual gifts of graciousness, wisdom, and so forth. Once that ordeal was over, another fairy person made her approach to the couple. The King gasped, "you have not come to hex our poor child Moargoth, we did invite you to the wedding after all?"

The rather wicked looking fairy laughed heartily, "certainly not, it was nice to finally be invited to such a function rather than having to crash the party and curse the poor dear. I have come to bestow my gifts on the happy couple, which are far more useful and interesting than those of my nicey-nice cousin." It was at this point that they began to realize that maybe she was not entirely evil after all, but rather liked to dress in a Gothic style, which was just beginning to become trendy in that world. Everyone within hearing looked quite interested in this proposition, except the poor nice fairy who would have glowered were it in her nature, instead she vanished after a woeful look at all and sundry. "First," said Moargoth, "if you are going to rescue that brainless bit of fluff, you will need some more intimidating allies." She rolled up her sleeves and got to work.

The imp finally reached the gigantesque proportions he entertained in his imagination, the rhinocerllama became a terrifying unicorn, but the GA was left unchanged as there is nothing more dangerous in the known or imagined universe, except perhaps a bad comedian, which is why Hamric found himself quite himself as well. To the new prince-by-marriage, she gave this hint, "you are quite right to pursue a certain evil mage in this matter, you already know he has a fondness for arcane magazines, but you must also know he tends to be a bit absentminded and very particular, you should be able to use this to your advantage. If you successfully complete this quest, you shall be a hero indeed and will be in desperate need of a more appropriate name. As for you princess, you might find this small yappy dog quite useful. If not, feed it to your gaseous friend." Then she was gone.

The party exchanged a wondering look, made their farewells to the royal parents, and swiftly departed. They were quite happy with the magnificent horses they were allowed to borrow from the royal stables, but had been firmly warned to bring them back with full stomachs and they were not to attempt any stunt riding, they were just to rescue the poor girl and come straight home. They even provided a fuzzy pink purse to carry the small, evil dog in.

Gertrude asked of her new lord, "who exactly is this evil mage of yours and why did he kidnap my sister? I thought only He Whose Name is Tedious or whatever you call Him was interested in messing up her Happily Ever After."

Steve the Unglorious replied, "I now believe that He and the rather insignificant evil mage of my previous acquaintance are one and the same, much as you, my beloved, are truly a princess. Your true guise was hidden for reasons that at the time seemed sensible. What better way to hide your true identity as the Most Evil Mage in the World than by being a rather drab evil mage in a low rent part of the realm?" She shook her head in wonder, could this tale get any stranger? And as you full well know, it did simply because she thought it couldn't. They rode on for several days, still grateful to the Benevolent Hat of Hamric for its sustaining but inglorious fare. They rode on for another round of several more days after that (feel free to insert tedious descriptors of the countryside here, it should fill several pages at the least). Finally they came to the foothills of the Dreadful Mountains, which were swathed in a Dark and Terrifying Forest where they met some old friends. The troop of nerds met this strange company with some hesitancy, trying to decide if this were a rival gang of geeks or perhaps an expedient way to level up, but finally deciding it must be some new plot twist introduced by a desperate GM to keep things interesting and was therefore not immediately hostile.

"Whither goest thou?" came the curious lilting voice of the leader who seemed to be speaking in a bad Scottish accent.

Steve frowned at the nerd leader in incomprehension. Gertrude giggled in a very unprincess like fashion and said politely, "we all love the good King's English, but a more modern vernacular is an acceptable alternative."

Much relieved, as he knew little of that forgotten tongue, the lead nerd said, "where are you going and may we be of assistance?"

Steve shook his head, "we are going to rescue a non-princess from a false feline."

"Sounds like a perfectly reasonable quest," said he, "we are in. What are the rules?"

Steve frowned again in confusion but Gertrude said, "rescuing the girl without getting ourselves killed or turned into trees are about the only ground rules."

"Drat," said the nerd, "I had at least hoped that fire weapons were worth double points, but I suppose we had best do this your way." Gertrude laughed aloud and Steve just scratched his head.

The nerds introduced themselves to the flummoxed company of would-be heroes as a band of dwarves, elves, halflings, weredragons, and a vegan vampire. The gigantesque imp said to them in a whisper that shook the trees, "I know a not-so-good fairy that can help you with your identity issues. She did me worlds of good, finally convinced my body to be what my mind always knew I was." They exchanged confused looks but nodded as if they knew exactly what the giant was babbling about; it was not wise to disagree with someone ten feet tall at the knees.

They camped for the night outside the Dark and Terrible Forest and planned to make their way into its mysterious depths at first light, which is the only time one ever dares such a thing (otherwise you keep bumping into trees in the dark and it is rather embarrassing). Morning came, the unicorn returned from his midnight scouting foray and told that the dark mage's hut lay less than an hour's journey into the wood and that the local troll union was on its yearly picnic in the Moldering Swamp so the way was relatively clear of enemies. They set forth into the Forest, wondering at the great difference between this place and the forest which had been their home. There was not a bunny in sight and the trees looked quite disagreeable. Even the squirrels were black and boasted large teeth and creepy red eyes. They trudged on without incident and came to an assiduously maintained dilapidated hovel, obviously the owner was very persnickety in the upkeep of his downtrodden abode. Steve smiled, particular about the details indeed; he had a plan and quickly recounted it to the others, who stared at him in incomprehension but each would do their part.

He knocked boldly upon the door and it was answered by a stooped man with a trailing beard and half-moon spectacles. He blinked at the party standing about outside his door, not quite sure what to think. This certainly was no band of heroes so he need not immediately turn them into trees, unless of course they proved irksome, wanted donations for some noble cause, or were members of an obscure religion seeking converts. Steve pulled a stack of periodicals from beneath his tunic and said, "I have brought the magazines you ordered Master Mage, how will you be paying for them?"

The mage blinked at him again, but finally understood and an eager smile lit his face, "of course, of course, I am really excited about that new alchemy spell in the latest issue, to think they discovered how to turn lead into apple butter!"

"Quite useful I am sure," quoth Steve, "that will be two pieces of gold, five pieces of silver, and seventeen pieces of tin."

The Mage nodded happily, disappearing into the house to retrieve his magical coin purse. He returned and said quite embarrassed, "I am so sorry, I do not seem to have exact change. Will you take three gold pieces instead? I am fresh out of tin!"

Steve looked rather shocked, "sir, I could not! I must have exact change or I may be accused of price gouging or banditry! Certainly not. I must have exact change or I fear I will have to revoke your subscription and you'll lose your complimentary frog itcher too!"

"Oh!" said the Mage in some distress, "we certainly cannot have that! A frog itcher? I never knew I needed one, but it sounds too good a deal to pass up. Let me see?" He thought for a few moments and then his face brightened, "I know!" He said some very ominous sounding words and suddenly all the noble trees that bedecked his front yard suddenly stretched, yawned, and looked far more like a dozen flummoxed heroes than a lovely grove. "Don't know what the Neighborhood Committee will say about that, but it may be my only hope of saving my subscription. Come lads, have you got any tin? If you can scrounge up seventeen pieces of tin I'll give you your freedom in exchange."

The former trees all shared an excited grin and began turning out their pockets. They found the requisite number of coins and eagerly handed them to the wizard before dashing quickly off into the forest before he changed his mind. The wizard nearly glowed with excitement as he gave Steve his money and took his magazines and free gift. He flipped through the top issue and looked a bit disappointed that there was no mention of his latest exploit. He suddenly glared at the strange company about him, "how many people does it take to deliver a magazine? Who are you?"

Steve smiled in grim amusement and said, "we are here to rescue the princess!"

The mage smiled wickedly and said, "no, you are going to improve my landscaping before the neighbors complain." But before he could work his vile magic, the GA engulfed him and he dared not breathe, lest he inhale the noxious fumes.

"Very good," said Steve as the magician started turning blue, "Hamric, you know what to do." The comedian started his routine and the now purple magician looked like he might explode or faint. He could not utter foul incantations thanks to the GA and the bad jokes prevented him from concentrating and thus using his cunning to escape this snare. He was forced to stand there, helpless and purple, at the mercy of his captors. Long after this adventure, Hamric and the GA started their own evil mage capture business and made a very good living thereafter.

Gertrude burst into the house, searching for her sister. What she found was an aviary with a hundred different birds in it, instinctively she knew one of these feather brains must be her sister, but which one? A smile grew on her face as she saw the magpie. She pulled the designer canine from its fuchsia handbag and launched it at the vain, chattering bird. The dog licked the bird, and suddenly it was Clarisse, simultaneously bemoaning her lack of stylish attire and rumpled hair and gushing over the small furry dog. Gertrude shook her head in wonder, handed her sister the pink fuzzy dog purse and a hairbrush. Clarisse stowed the dog in the handbag and began the laborious process of straightening her hair, which would take even longer than this entire adventure.

Steve came into the house, smiled to see the lady restored, and asked Gertrude for seven pairs of ruby slippers. She stared at him in confusion, but remembering the magical virtue inherent in ruby slippers, she assisted her beloved in ransacking the house in search of the appropriate footwear. All they could find were red bowling shoes, but they would have to do. Steve looked at Clarisse and asked, "lady, is it your wish to remain here or would you return to your own wild and dangerous world?"

Clarisse looked at him as if he were mad, "you think I would remain here a minute longer than I have to? Get me out of here!"

He bowed, tossed her a pair of shoes, and ran out the door. Clarisse grimaced at the unstylish footwear but put them on, she was horrified to see the small herd of geeks doing likewise and nearly took them off again, but for a firm look from Gertrude. Nearly in tears, she complied. To think she would wear anything worn by geeks! Steve was just lacing another pair on the purplish wizard, who was willing to cooperate with anything as long as there was a hope he might draw breath in the next hour. Steve took Clarisse's hand and led her over to where the geeks and the wizard waited. Gertrude handed Clarisse a bottle of hand sanitizer as she passed, knowing she might otherwise die after this was all over unless she could quickly disinfect herself of nerd germs. Steve gave her hand into that of the head geek and said quickly, "you know what to do. You will have little time once our friend the mage here recovers his breath, so make it quick!"

They started to click their heels together and repeat the magic words while Hamric and the GA dove for cover, not wishing to accidentally find themselves in that horrific world from which the nerds had come and to which they would return. The mage started to incantate, but suddenly the whole company vanished, dog and all. Gertrude looked to her husband and asked, "was it wise to send that mage into my world?"

Steve smiled, "he will have no magic there, only his absentminded pickiness will remain to him. What he will do with that, I know not, but he is canny enough to survive and will cause little harm to others, bereft as he is of his magic."

Steve was quite right, the mage settled in quite happily and quickly earned a doctorate of Arcane Theorization in Alternate Plane Physics and soon had tenure at a prestigious university. The nerds were quite delighted with their adventure and spent the next six months counting up and arguing over their experience points. Clarisse spent the same amount of time cleansing at the spa, undergoing a detoxifying diet, and complaining incessantly to her shrink, but she was quite smitten with the dog, after all, only the kiss of true love could break the vile mage's spell. On the way home, the Giant asked of Steve, "what was my part in this whole crazy tale?"

Steve shrugged, "comic relief." The Giant smiled and Hamric wept, knowing that role could never more be his.

Steve received a much more heroic name from the Fairy Goth-mother (she originated the trend after all) and they all went to a Glitch concert to celebrate. So they all lived more or less, happily ever after, that is if you like dwarvish punk music, which would otherwise make for a rather miserable evening, but then, there is always tomorrow!
On Heroes: A Foible

Published by Susan Skylark at Smashwords

Copyright 2014 Susan Skylark

### This is a foible, not a fable, fables are by definition useful and educational, this story is merely enjoyable or so thinks the author.

Aido had been an under-clerk for the Department of Prophecy Amelioration for over a decade, and at last he was about to embark on his first undercover investigation. He had been in training for years: working out, perfecting his combat techniques, learning to procure and prepare 'wild food,' studying old maps and forgotten languages, familiarizing himself with the prophetic writings of every culture, real or imagined, learning the arts of healing, riding, and woodcraft, and only shaving every third day. Finally, his superiors had decided that he was ready to be promoted to the rank of Investigator for the Sub-department of Hero Isolation and Containment. He happily walked over to the Repository of Draught and Riding Beasts to procure his very own work vehicle; hopefully something in a blood bay with a little spirit, but that was asking for too much, after all, his was a bureaucratic position.

At least he was not assigned the riding ox or the donkey that would only go left regardless of whether you asked him to stop, turn, or back up. He took the reins from the bored looking kid who worked the desk and looked over his new wheels skeptically; it had four legs at least, that was a start. The sorrel coat would blend in with every other horse on the planet, which was far from exciting, but perhaps being inconspicuous would be an advantage in the field. It would get him where he needed to go in an efficient manner and that was all the Department cared about. He sighed and led the beast out of the Repository and parked it in the loading area before going to retrieve the rest of his equipment.

If the horse wasn't exciting, maybe his weapons allotment would be. Aido stood in line for what seemed hours as a fusty old lady pottered about behind the counter of the Dispensary of Potentially Lethal Implements, adjusting her glasses and scratching her head in confusion every three seconds. Finally his turn came and he handed over the paperwork requisitioning what he would need for his field investigation. She stared at him blankly, blinked a few times like a confused chicken, and then after a few minutes of silence said, "you will have to come back after the Midday Ingestion Break, Investigator. You know it is against Regulations for me or anyone else to do any sort of Official Business between the hours of Twelve and Thirteen." He stared at her in astonishment, not believing it was already that late in the day and dreading the thought of more delay, but there was nothing to be done. If either of them were caught working over the Break, the results would be catastrophic. He said something inconsequential and made his way to the Room of Edible Procurement and then returned to the Dispensary to wait, finding that he had lost his place in line. He sat down with a sigh and tried not to weep in frustration. Finally, just before the Afternoon Refreshment Period, he was allowed to get his allotment of PLIs. Like the horse, there was nothing at all interesting about the assortment of weapons but they were functional at least.

Quite nervous that he would not be able to leave today after all, he hurried to the Division of Wardrobe Affairs to outfit himself for his new role and thankfully arrived after the Refreshment Period. He stared glumly at the bundle of clothing, knowing it looked like it was supposed to but that the material and craftsmanship would not hold up if he encountered any weather that was not sunny and warm. The middle-aged clerk watched his reaction carefully, with a slight sneer on his face, saying as he saw Aido's dismay, "don't blame me, we have limited time to make the stuff and whoever bought the material got a great deal on it, but I wouldn't use it for rags, but it ain't my fault."

Aido sighed again and left with his allocation of lousy clothes. Finally, with the sun low on the horizon, he returned to his nondescript horse to pack and be gone, but it took him another half hour to figure out which of the eight sorrel geldings in the loading area was his. When he finally identified the beast, he almost turned right around and demanded his old job back, for there was a parking ticket tucked into the creature's bridle. He glanced at the sign, thirty minute parking indeed! He loaded the saddlebags and swung into the saddle. With a grim smile, he crumpled up the fine and tossed it over his shoulder and then urged his horse to a trot before anything else could delay him.

He stood outside the Edifice of Monetary Exchange and wanted to scream. He needed to make a withdrawal from the Department's account to finance his journey but the facility was closed and would not open again for three days, as it was an Obscure Holiday Weekend (Foot Fungus Awareness Day). Aido could not wait that long or his superiors would demand to know why he was so inefficient in his duties. He had no choice but to hope there was a branch Edifice in one of the villages through which he would undoubtedly pass. He turned his mediocre beast and made his way out of the city. Darkness had fallen, forcing him to pull over for the night. He glanced about hopefully, but there was no sign of either an Approved Nocturnal Repose Sight or a House of Temporary Accommodation for Wayfarers. He could get in trouble for camping in an unapproved fashion but it was a risk he would have to take, and with the mood he was in, he was quite ready to defy any and every regulation he could think of. He even built a fire without a permit from the Incendiary Activity Coordinator and used wood without asking leave of the Arboreal Comptroller. The cheery blaze revealed a sardonic smile on the face of the Investigator as he rethought the day and began to wonder at his previous eagerness for this assignment.

He had always been as much a stickler for the rules as any petty bureaucrat could be, but after all the headache and frustration of the day, he began to wonder at his previous zeal for such stipulations. With these uneasy thoughts on his mind, he turned over and tried to sleep in as unregulated a fashion as possible. The birds awoke far earlier than any sensible regulatory body or department could fathom, a challenge the Avian Affairs Agency was still trying to bring under control, but the small, feathered fiends just would not submit to their authority though fines and imprisonment had all been tried, alas to no avail. Aido was glad there was something in the Universe that had as yet defied regulation and even more grateful that he would be up and on his way long before the lackeys of the Thoroughfare Safety and Compliance Administration were abroad. His more sensible side began to regret his rashness with the parking ticket, but another part of him laughed mercilessly at the part that fretted over such a trifling matter. He gathered up his gear, mounted his horse, and continued on his way.

It was just the sort of day to prolong the usefulness of his standard issue substandard clothing and his heart rejoiced in the beauty of the morning, quite insensible that he was violating at least nine subparagraphs of the Modern Aesthetic Code, which frowned upon such natural splendor and the enjoyment thereof, rather preferring the appreciation of the far more grotesque and grim (not to mention more financially lucrative) products of the modern writers, musicians, and painters. But what did this mere underling know of High Culture and the Finer Things of Life? He rode along amongst the bucolic charm all about him, content in his ignorance. The plain old horse jogged along indifferent to the countryside about him, and therefore quite obviously a lover of Fine Things and of a higher social order than his master. They came to a sizable market town that afternoon and Aido hoped to make a successful withdrawal from his work account to finance the remainder of his mission, else the paperwork to obtain a reimbursement of his expenditures would take the rest of his mortal days to accomplish.

He stopped before the newest and ugliest building in town, certain that it must be what he sought. It was, but like every other public institution, it was also closed in observance of an Official Obscure Holiday Weekend. Apparently his work related expenditures would have to be passed on to his children as an inheritance as he would not live long enough to be reimbursed. He sighed and urged the beast out of town before he started screaming in frustration and risked being locked away as a lunatic or a disturber of the peace. Aido rode on for another hour before stopping alongside a happy creek, where he decided to take a break from his saddle and water his highly efficient mode of transportation. He mused upon his assignment and its futility as he leaned on the bridge railing and watched the gladsome water frolic in its stony channel beneath him. He wished his life could be as happy and careless as that unceasing flow. Another day of riding would bring him to his destination, perhaps his previous enthusiasm would then return once he was truly doing what he had always dreamt of doing one day and for which he had spent his entire life preparing. With a heavy sigh he climbed back into his saddle, knowing chances were very good that only his loathing would grow in the days to come, for his heart had grown cold towards his first and only love. He rode on, wondering what he was riding towards or perhaps more correctly what he was trying to escape.

He passed through several small villages while the day lasted, each with its own Regulation Stopping Places but he ignored them and rode on, enjoying the illicit thrill of thwarting the over-regulation under which he had happily toiled his entire life. Thankfully it was a Holiday Weekend, else he might not have made it through the first village without being apprehended by the local constabulary for his various, heinous crimes against humanity and the world in general, to say nothing about the discarded traffic citation. He rode on through more and more villages, each more forgettable than the last, laid out in the precise pattern required by the Zoning Commission of Outlying Settlements. He camped again in an unregulated fashion before rising on the Official Obscure Holiday and rode into Happytown in time for the Midday Ingestion Break. He glanced around uneagerly at yet another cookie cutter village and sighed, but he had work to do. He entered the Requisite Lodging and Nourishment Establishment for Transients, the only place open on an Official Obscure Holiday, and allowed the flighty teenaged hostess to seat him in the nearly empty common dining area and acknowledged that he would gladly consume the Daily Balanced and Nutritious Repast. She returned with the unassuming concoction in a bowl and set a mug of some viscous purplish-green liquid before him that smelled of aged turnips and old socks, which immediately killed what little appetite he had.

As he was staring balefully at his inedible Repast, a man with a knowing look in his eyes seated himself beside the Investigator and smiled superciliously at him. Said the newcomer without preamble, "you work for the Feds don't you." It was not a question.

Aido looked up in surprise but did not deny it, saying, "what gave me away?"

The man's smile became condescending, "anyone dressed in cloth of that poor a make must either be destitute or a government employee." He laughed in derision, "my brother is a fabric merchant and makes a handsome living by selling such pathetic material by the square acre to lackeys in the Department of Acquisition and Distribution of Necessary Consumables. He makes more per yard from that flimsy stuff than he does selling the finest material available to the Great Lords."

Aido smiled ironically, "that does not surprise me in the least."

Said the stranger, "so what are you doing here? Obviously you are here on Official Unofficial Business else you'd be in a Right and Proper Uniform."

Said Aido warmly, "I am here to discover if any Heroes might be budding in Happytown. Certain of the Prophecies hint at just such an Occurrence in the very near future."

The man laughed, "trying to thwart Prophecy again, are they? Will you people ever realize there are just some things government cannot control?"

Aido stared at his regulation soup in dismay, "that I highly doubt."

Said the man eagerly, "so just what happens if you discover said Hero?"

Aido said dryly, "we offer him a great government job. If he declines that, then he gets to attend Mandatory Reeducation Sessions for the Socially Dysfunctional and will inevitably end up committing suicide, excuse me, I mean he will choose Elective Self Annihilation."

"Lovely," said his companion, "you people have a title for everything!"

Aido smiled wryly, "the Department of Nomenclature is the biggest division of the government." He glanced around furtively and said, "I would rather get out of this line of work. The sooner the better."

The stranger brightened, "with that I may be of assistance." He continued with an amused smile, "are you aware that you are a fugitive?"

Aido frowned, "I was not aware that it was Official, but it would not surprise me, though it is an Obscure Holiday. The parking fine?"

The stranger laughed, "you didn't?!"

Aido caught his amusement and nodded, "I carelessly tossed it aside." He then whispered, "among other vicious crimes."

The stranger smiled deeply, "then I will gladly aid your disappearance. We criminals must stick together. Come!" They stood silently, heartlessly leaving the inedible fodder on the table and a less than standard tip for the Hostess.

As they walked inconspicuously down the street, Aido noticed several posters bearing his face and emblazoned with directions for his immediate apprehension. They continued their steady, unhurried progress (so as not to draw attention) and turned down a smaller lane that apparently vanished into the neatly managed coppice behind the village. Eventually the Regulation Side Path crossed the threshold into the Unregulated and Semi-wild Wooded Area and became as unmanaged as the forest through which it wound. They continued on in silence for nearly an hour, and only when they felt themselves truly alone and unobserved did the stranger finally speak, "so what has prompted your flight from Order my friend?"

Aido laughed, "I set out with every good intention of fulfilling my orders but it seemed at every turn there was a governmentally imposed hindrance to me accomplishing my task or even surviving for an hour without unneeded frustration and complication. That and the ride out here gave me plenty of time to consider life and the lack of meaning therein."

The stranger smiled broadly, "welcome to the first day of a purposeful life my friend. I am called Gunyon and am a member of the Freemen for Commonsense."

Aido grinned, "that sounds like something birthed in the Department of Nomenclature."

Gunyon laughed, "it was, we social rebels had not yet got around to naming our pathetic little society and the guys over at Nomenclature could not abide having such an as yet unnamed group running at large so they came up with a name for us."

"Just what does this society of yours do?" asked Aido as they trekked deeper into the confines of the wood.

Gunyon shrugged, "we really haven't accomplished much of anything yet. We started only a few months ago as a small group of annoyed citizens who occasionally met to grouse about too much Order over Tea. Of course our Tea Time was not considered the Official Hour for Consuming Brewed Beverages so the authorities soon started to take notice. We each received a rather nasty letter, in triplicate of course, indicating that we had best mend our ways or there would be Dire Consequences."

"What did you do?" asked Aido, both amused and aghast.

Gunyon smiled, "we went underground of course. On the outside we are just monotonous citizens but when no one is looking..." he paused for effect, "we each of us are rather disorderly and unique."

"Your crimes far outweigh mine, sir," said Aido with a respectful bow.

Gunyon smiled in anticipation, "but you have hardly begun to rebel my friend. I think you could make quite a career of it." For the first time since he left his old life behind, Aido felt the first stirrings of eagerness and what he was startled to realize must be hope.

Once Aido was completely confused as to direction and the hour, they stood outside an old fashioned but well tended cottage with only a few unofficial weeds daring to show their leaves in the otherwise regulation vegetable patch. Aido said in appreciation, "how do you get away with keeping up such a residence?"

Gunyon smiled, "the Inspectors for the Regulatory Authority of Domiciles and Outbuildings are loath to travel this far off the beaten path to make sure my house is up to code. I don't tell them anything and they don't ask; it is a mutually beneficial relationship." They stabled the horse in an old lean-to that had once housed a cow, but Gunyon had not bothered to go through the rigmarole required to acquire a new one after the decease of his previous beast. They entered the cottage and Gunyon's wife happily served them a brewed beverage outside the requisite hours. As they sipped their tea, they discussed many things and Aido felt himself enjoying life and real companionship for the first time in living memory.

"So what about this Hero of yours?" asked Gunyon as he munched on his fifteenth cucumber sandwich.

Aido said with a mouthful of cookie, "what about him?"

Gunyon said, "what makes The Powers That Be think one is like to rise from such a place as Happytown?"

Aido swallowed his cookie and said, "the name alone would suffice, but there are certain vague writings from an extinct people group native to the very south of the world that suggests as much, but as I said, the Prophecy is vague and it could be any of ten or twenty different villages and this may not even be the Appointed Time. That is the problem with Prophecy, it is often rather vague and fulfills itself often without us knowing until long after the fact. But just to be on the safe side, they are taking all precautions."

"How do you go about finding a Hero?" asked Gunyon with a smile.

Aido chewed thoughtfully for a moment and then replied, "we will of course monitor all known widows with only sons, step-families containing an ill-tempered woman, orphans raised by obscure or cruel relatives, and anyone who has ever found a child of unknown pedigree on their doorstep. Of course the current management strategy for all such High Risk Families has been implemented to prevent just such an occurrence. None of these Families at High Risk of Hero Production or Prophecy Fulfillment are left to go hungry, become poor, or otherwise grow discontent with their lot in life. If there is no discontent or need, or so the theory goes, there is unlikely to be a Hero produced or a Prophecy fulfilled."

"An interesting theory," said Gunyon as he chewed, "has it worked?"

Aido shrugged his shoulders, "before my promotion to Investigator I worked mostly in the Laboratory of Statistics and Numerical Data which compiles numbers on Everything, even on things that have no numerical data, but there was very little convincing evidence that any of their preventive protocols either helped or hindered Prophecy/Hero attainment. In reality, such occurrences are so rare that it would take a millennium to get enough data to even begin calculating whether their programs are effective or not. Of course, no one really cares if a bureaucracy is effective so long as it seems to be doing something."

Gunyon chewed on this revelation and another sandwich, before saying, "can we improvise our own Hero?"

Aido sat back and said thoughtfully, "it certainly isn't done that way, at least if you are going by the Book, but I am so tired of 'The Book of All Regulations Pertaining to Decent and Orderly Civilian Life' that I think we should, just to spite them all!"

Gunyon nodded, "very well, we will."

They stayed up much of the night (quite against the Treaty on Reasonable and Necessary Nocturnal Activities) discussing their plans to implement a Hero and/or fulfill a Prophecy. As they made up their lists, discussed necessary attributes, and inventoried equipment, Aido said in surprise, "it seems my training to prevent Hero actualization has actually equipped me with all of the requisite skills."

Gunyon smiled, "and out of Happytown a Hero shall arise. Prophecy fulfilled! Excellent! Now all we need is a ragtag band of followers and we shall be ready to shake the Pillars of Order."

Aido said hopefully, "your company of so-called Freemen?"

Gunyon shook his head, "a few might be interested or willing to assist in our caper, but we need the seediest, most scandalous, and underrated band of cutthroats this world can supply."

Aido nodded, "ah, you suggest a raid on the Facility for the Containment of Socially Awkward Individuals." Gunyon smiled in anticipation of what was to come.

They went to bed and slept well into the day (violating the Compact on Acceptable Awakenings) and after a scrumptious breakfast that had nothing whatsoever to do with the Highly Recommended and Otherwise Required Guidelines for Food Preparation and Consumption, they went about plotting their raid. They made their way out of the forest in the twilight, knowing no true government official would bother being out of doors at that hour. They stayed overnight with another Freeman who lived on the far border of the forest and set out before first light the next morning. For three days they traveled as far and hard as they could each day without risking exposure by too much exertion. They arrived outside the Facility of CSAI in time for the Afternoon Refreshment Period and had to wait for admittance until the Guard for Security and Safety had finished his allotted Refreshment. The bored and disgruntled looking man in his fading years studied their paperwork, stared at them, returned to the paperwork, whistled tunelessly, and then resumed staring at them. Finally he said in irritation, "seems like everything is in order Investigator, you may proceed with your prisoner."

Gunyon nodded grimly and touched Aido in the small of the back with his swordpoint, grumbling, "move along scum." They both contained an exuberant smile that their subterfuge was working so well, of course it helped that Aido was truly an Investigator with a real Department and that Gunyon was a renowned scribe who could copy, forge, or create any document or handwriting desired.

As Aido was by now a well-known criminal, it was quite reasonable to present him as the newest inmate of the Facility. They wound deeper into the complex, passing each checkpoint and guard station with ease until they were in the very heart of the detention area. The day was wearing out as they passed the last checkpoint and Gunyon asked after the keys, that he might lock up his captive for the night. The guard yawned and said, "it is one minute to close pal, whatever you do afterhours is no concern of mine but I won't be held liable for overtime. Take the keys, I'm going home." He handed over the gigantic key ring and left for the night, leaving the pair alone with the inmates.

It took several hours to free the captives, as there were countless keys to try in each lock, but finally the prisoners were loose and they began discussing strategy. It was an easy matter to capture the skeleton crew that guarded the facility at night and lock them up in the prisoners' stead. It was many months before the incarcerated guards were able to convince the morning crew that they had been illegally detained, but finally the paperwork made it through all the proper channels and the guards were released with only a severe scolding. The morning crew thought it odd that the number and faces of the prisoners had changed overnight but as there was no official paper trail on the matter, no one wanted to get in trouble or take responsibility, so nothing was said about it until the proper paperwork was completed, by which time our Heroes were long since gone.

Most of the detainees went home, as there were far too many of them to go a'questing, but there were half a dozen that stayed to help. Aido studied their motley crew with appreciation; here were rebels indeed. One man had green hair that clashed with his favorite purple shirt, another really liked liver and onions, there was a lady who was overly fond of cats, Robert insisted on being called Bob, there was a repeat jaywalker (crosswalks hadn't been invented yet), and a man who had accidentally cut the tags off of a mattress he did not own. Few were the criminals in the realm more vile than these, let The Powers That Be tremble, for the Shakers of Empire had emerged (yes, the Nomenclature people are at it again). They easily made their way out of the Containment Facility after raiding the parking garage and locker room for their own personal benefit and went out to, well, shake the Empire.

So how do eight people make an Empire tremble and bring an overbearing bureaucracy to its knees? Easy! Destroy the Paperwork, for if it does not exist on paper, it does not exist, at least in a bureaucracy. So off they went, to interfere with the lifeblood of this bungling, lumbering giant and who better to aid them than the Minions of Government themselves. Aido thought the tree obsessed people over at the Arboreal Comptroller would be just the folks to get on their side, for if it were well nigh impossible to get paper, one could not have paperwork, and no paperwork meant no bureaucracy. So our zany friends arrayed themselves in varicolored splendor and did not bath or shave for several weeks. Once they appeared to be quite friendly with the earth and all therein, they wandered over to the Main Office of the Arboreal Comptroller and made their plea. The Administrative Assistant was quite perplexed by these hippy-wannabes and did the only thing possible in a confusing or overwhelming situation: she delegated. So it was that they passed from one office to another, from one flunky's hands to a lackey down the hall. Finally they arrived in the Office of the Arboreal Comptroller himself and happily extolled their plan of saving the nation's precious forests from the horrid fate of wanton waste and negligence that was rampant throughout the realm. The man nodded, ordered his personal aides to present themselves, and soon interrogated them as to the abuse of the obviously vanishing woodlands.

The minions agreed to the last man (what else are minions for?) that there was certainly a problem and only drastic and instantaneous action could preserve some small scrap of the once great forests from total annihilation. One went so far as to proclaim that his son's third grade science teacher had complained the other day that they seemed to be cutting down too many trees lately, at least more than she remembered as a girl. This smote the hearts of all those listening sore and even lent scientific credence to the Theory of Arboreal Apocalypse. The Comptroller had heard enough; he would act immediately.

The Service for the Collection and Distribution of Information: Useful and Otherwise, was summoned to report on this horrifying discovery and soon the whole nation was in a near panic at looming paper shortages, rampant deforestation, and the resulting air pollution, acid rain, and erosion that would no doubt make the entire world uninhabitable for at least a thousand years, give or take an Officially Obscure Holiday. So it was that Drastic Measures were taken and the forests were saved and the masses appeased. Paper became scarce and terribly expensive until someone decided to import it from less prudent nations, thus restoring paper to the peasantry. Of course, during the paper shortage the entire government collapsed due to lack of paperwork and most of its officials were forced to seek sanctuary in the nation's universities and on the professional speaking circuit, where they remain to this day.

While the economy suffered a grievous recession in the public sector, private industry and productivity flourished (even without paper) as never before, and for the first time in history, people without a government job could actually make a living. Eventually things settled down, paper was restored to the nation, and the government returned, but in a more modest and humble form, which was the only kind now acceptable to the temporarily freed plebs who, once drunk with the wine of freedom, could not again taste of the moonshine of bureaucracy. As for our heroes, each was honored with his or her own Official Obscure Holiday but after the Paper Revolution, only the Service for the Distribution of Written Communications officially observed said Holidays, but then, no government is perfect!

### Other Books by this Author:

The Serpent and the Unicorn: Book I and II

### The Serpent and the Unicorn: Book III

### The Serpent and the Unicorn: Book IV and V

### Once a Thief

### A Song of Lesser Days

### Thus It Began

### Legends of the Brethren: Volume I

### Legends of the Brethren: Volume II

### In Shadow

### The Greylands

###  On Princesses

###  On Heroes

###  Over the Hills and Far Away

### Want to Know More?:

### Official Website

### Author's Blog

The Serpent and the Unicorn: Book III Sample Chapters:

### Chapter 1

The wind blew cold off the sea, but the promise of Spring lingered in the salty air. Wrapped in her cloak against the damp and cold of early morning, Arora walked the battlements of the crumbling old castle on the verge of the Eastern Sea. Occasionally a breaker crashed against the rocky cliffs upon which the castle perched like an ungainly bird. A sea bird called above in a voice speaking of loneliness and vast distances. Arora knew how he must feel. Somewhere far away, preparing for a war that might destroy everything she held dear, was her husband whom she had not seen in several months. Her duties kept her confined to this miserable old castle or to the main campus of the University some days' ride to the West. As head of her department, she was in charge of overseeing all the activities of the associate professors beneath her. Since her department was by now the largest and their classes the most sought after, the whole thing had been moved to this hulking ruin of a fortress. And so had come a great many students who stayed as long as they needed to complete the required classes to gain the now much sought after title of Scholar, and perhaps one day Professor.

There had been a time when the whole University had been a joke to everyone outside of it, but things were changing quickly as it began to actually teach useful knowledge and hold its teachers and students responsible for their actions. Incredibly, it was starting to become a respectable institution. Unlike the Order of the Unicorn, which in recent months had changed its name to the Legion of the Serpent; its main purpose had also changed from upholding their own version of peace and justice to one of conquest in the name of evil. Arora knew the truth behind the change, even if most people did not. An insidious evil calling itself the Brotherhood of the Serpent was again influencing the former Order, but this time it was not only an indirect influence but in overt control. Long had the Brotherhood operated in secret, trying to accomplish the purposes of the Evil One through human servants dedicated to him body and soul. Only recently had their existence become known to the Brethren, and since then their tactics had moved from secret manipulations and the spreading of chaos to plans for outright war and conquest.

War was coming, but this was just the latest skirmish in a far greater war that stretches back to the very beginnings of time when the Master's greatest servant rebelled against him and evil first came into being. Once innocent of all evil, man soon followed in the Evil One's footsteps, forsaking the Master's laws and Truth to follow his own twisted path. The Master interceded directly when men first chose evil over good, but ever afterwards it was up to his servants to defend the Truth and protect the vulnerable; they became known as the Brethren and are the world's greatest defense against the powers of darkness. The Brotherhood of the Serpent became the Evil One's answer to the Brethren. The Order of the Unicorn grew up as an independent military organization hoping for the glory of the Brethren without having to sacrifice their own desires and dreams (and sometimes their lives) for the greater good. Now the Order had been overtaken by evil men and was all but a military extension of the Brotherhood. Most of the honorable men within the Order had recently been driven out, some had joined the Brethren while many of the rest prepared for war as allies under the Brethren's banner.

Not only were there evil tidings from the former Order, but there were other worrisome rumors. Evil things were stirring again in the Northern Wilds and in the Western Mountains. Many were the dark men seen crossing the Untamed Wilds on fell errands of their own. Everywhere unrest and rebellion seemed to be fomenting; once peaceful lands were now dealing with open revolt. The Lady of Astoria had agents in every country, city, and major village trying to prepare all free lands for the coming onslaught. However, local leaders were far too busy with their own problems to worry about a larger, vaguer danger. For the moment, the world lay hushed, as if on the brink of something vast and horrible that only time would reveal, but all knew it was coming and soon. Arora ceased her pacing upon the walls and made her way down to the kitchens to find something warm to drink; she only wished her heart could find solace as easily as her stomach.

Some distance away, in the Kingdom of Arca, Bristol walked about the castle gardens in the gloom before sunrise. He felt uneasy as he had rarely felt before; something deep inside bid him be cautious this day. As he paced, a servant found him and summoned him to a small parlor. He entered the chamber and looked hopefully at the fire burning cheerfully upon the hearth, but his heart grew cold at the sight of the man with whom he shared the room. The man gave him a haughty smile and said, "Captain Bristol you are hereby relieved of duty as Advisor to the King of Arca for the Order of the Unicorn. You are also relieved of all rank, privileges, and rights within the Order; the Order itself shall hereafter be known to you and all others as the Legion of the Serpent. I, Colonel Lyre, shall henceforth take over all of your previous duties and responsibilities. You are asked to withdraw immediately from these premises upon pain of death should you refuse." The man wore a triumphant grin; he had come far since Bristol last saw him stripped of all rank within the Order and sent out with the new recruits on a training patrol. He now wore a black tunic with a fiery serpent upon it. Bristol's own tunic of white bore a blue rearing unicorn; apparently the Order had changed uniforms as well as names.

Bristol stripped off his tunic and tossed it into the fire. Then he faced Lyre and said, "I accept the fact that I am no longer a part of the Order or the Legion or whatever you prefer to call it, however I am still a member of the Brethren and the Lady's duly appointed representative to the King. I cannot abandon my post save by her order. I believe the King would take it amiss if you murdered one of his advisors. However, if I must leave or die I stand ready to defend myself, though I dare say it will be a poor beginning between you and the King should he discover the cause of my demise, and an even worse beginning for you should you fall by my blade instead."

Lyre eyed him skeptically, but finally submitted to his reasoning, "very well, it will be as it must, but do not get in my way. We are not officially enemies yet, but I think the day will soon dawn that sees you and your ilk become hunted men in all lands. I hope it comes soon." With that he stomped out of the room. Bristol stared at the closed door in astonishment and then went to find another shirt.

Tristan walked among the sparring pairs of men as they exchanged blows with practice swords, yelling advice or a warning to the various students as he saw things that needed improvement. Occasionally, a muffled thump and exclamation of pain reminded the recipient to improve his blocking technique. Finally, he called a stop to the exercise and after a few parting remarks sent his pupils off to find their noon meal. He felt a pair of eyes upon him, and looking up saw the Lady standing at a window; she motioned for him to attend her and he made his way towards her chambers. He found her in a sunny room overlooking the courtyard where his students had been practicing. He bowed as he entered the room and took the seat she indicated. She smiled fondly at him, they had had many such meetings over the course of the century in which he had been in her service.

"I know you grow weary of training students in the arts of war," said she, "so I am sending you out once again on yet another vital mission." Tristan perked up at the mention of another mission; he did not mind training students, but his true calling was in performing the often strange and sometimes impossible tasks the Lady set before him. She continued, "as you know, there have been radical changes within the Order or the Legion, and the Brotherhood has also become much more overt in its enmity. You have also heard the rumors of localized rebellions and the stirring of evil things in wild places. We all know that war is brewing and evil seems to be growing everywhere, but no one knows anything for sure. I have our agents scattered across the whole face of the world, but communication is intermittent at best and nonexistent at worst. There are also various peoples and creatures from whom we have not heard in some time. I need to know what is happening and where. I am sending you out into the coming storm to discover from our agents and allies what is happening across the width and breadth of the world, and also to ascertain where each country, city-state, and every minor village stands as far as sending help should impending war necessitate it." Tristan nodded, understanding his mission but wondering how he alone was to accomplish such a monumental task before it was too late. The Lady, seeming to read his thoughts said, "do not worry, you are not the only one I am sending forth. Several of our best agents are being sent to discover what I need to know. You must travel quickly, but must be thorough in your observations. May the Master ride with you." He stood and bowed to her and went to prepare for his journey.

From long experience, he knew exactly what he would need for such a journey and was quickly packed and ready to go. His assigned route included parts of the Northern Wilds, the Eastern Realms, and the small country of Vespera, all of which he had visited within the last few years and was well-acquainted with many of the people (and creatures) with whom he would be dealing. As he headed back towards the courtyard, saddlebags slung over his shoulder, he met Trap in the corridors. "Heading off into deadly peril?" joked Trap.

"As usual," smiled Tristan, "the Lady is sending me out to learn exactly what is going on in the wide world."

"Me too," said Trap, "I am off as soon as I can get my things packed. I see that you are ahead of me, as usual." Tristan laughed and clapped the other man on the back in a fond farewell. It was hard to believe that less than a year ago Trap had been an important member of the Brotherhood, but was now a respected member of the Brethren. They parted and each went about his respective duties. In the courtyard stood a shaggy sorrel gelding, a far cry from the great unicorn stallion that Tristan knew lurked beneath the surface. Each member of the Brethren had a close relationship with a unicorn, though the unicorns often draped themselves in the guise of normal horses to hide their identities. Tristan smiled at Taragon's well-chosen disguise; no one would look twice at a road-weary traveler on such a plain beast. Taragon whickered in greeting and followed Tristan to the stable where he dug his much worn tack out of storage and went about the familiar ritual of putting it on his mount. After Tristan was mounted, Taragon frisked and bucked a bit, eager to be on the road once more. He wearied of the sedentary life of the last few months as much as his master. Soon they were off again to adventures unknown.

Their road first took them North into the Wilds to discover what the People of the Wood and Nargath the dragon knew of happenings in those unclaimed lands. Tristan saw few travelers upon the road as they headed farther from civilization, and those he did meet were the kind that did not stop to exchange idle chatter with a stranger. A unicorn is the swiftest of all creatures that go on four legs and can travel at speeds over great distances that would soon exhaust a horse. Before long, they had reached the far-flung inn at which he and Arora had once met a strange man who had later introduced them to the People of the Wood. The Hidden People stood much shorter than a normal man and lived secret lives far in the depths of the forest, protected from unfriendly eyes by an inborn skill for illusion and a talent for redirecting unwary strangers. These curious little folk were very fond of music and Arora's musical skills had earned them a rare invitation to visit their well-hidden village. Tristan hoped finding them again would not be a challenge. They knew this part of the Wilds better than anyone, and their input was vital for the completion of Tristan's mission.

Tristan left Taragon to the care of the stable boy and went into the inn. He glanced around at the gathered patrons and smiled as he recognized their previous informant. He ordered two mugs of ale and sat down across from the man, pushing the second mug towards him. The man looked at him curiously but gratefully accepted the drink. "You probably do not remember me," said Tristan, "but I once traveled with a rather remarkable songstress whom you wished to introduce to some extraordinary friends of yours. I am in desperate need of their aid; is it possible to renew our acquaintance?"

The man narrowed his eyes and stared at Tristan; recognition seemed to dawn in his eyes. "It may be possible," whispered the man fingering his scruffy beard, "of what sort of aid are we speaking and why? And where is that pretty little songstress?"

Tristan smiled, "you do well to be cautious in these uneasy times. The lady of whom you speak is far to the South on other business. I was sent by a certain Lady who begs any tidings they might have on strange or evil happenings within their borders in these ever darkening days. Mention the Lady and they will know of whom I speak; they have sent her at least one emissary in recent months."

The man nodded grimly, "I will relay your message but it is their choice as to whether or not they will meet with you."

"Fair enough," said Tristan, "I shall remain here and wait for their answer."

The shaggy man finished his drink then scuttled out in search of his mysterious friends. He returned a few hours later and said, "they remember you well and send greetings to you and your noble mount. They will gladly meet with you, though why they care about your horse I cannot imagine. Please follow me." Tristan stood up and together they walked out into the darkness; Tristan stopped long enough to collect Taragon from the stable before heading off into the forest with his strange guide. They walked silently for almost an hour. The going was slow because there was no moon to light the way and neither dared light a torch for fear of unwanted eyes. At last they came to a huge, dead oak tree and beneath it stood a small, wary man. He bowed in greeting and exchanged thanks with the other man who then slipped off into the night. The short man motioned for Tristan to follow. For another hour they plunged into the murky depths of the pathless woods until they came at last to the silent village, high among the boughs of great and ancient trees.

Tristan removed Taragon's tack and let him wander at will among the ancient boles. The little man waited patiently at the base of a great tree from whose branches hung a rope ladder leading up to an arboreal cottage high among its branches. They climbed up the ladder and drew it up behind them. They were now inaccessible to enemies on the ground. They went into the snug little house and drew up chairs in front of a small fire. "Welcome tall one," said the old man, "I wish you had brought your lady with you for I long for a cheerful song, but things are as they are so I will content myself with conversation. You have journeyed far, and I hope not in vain. As you know, we are a watchful but quiet people. We do not go willingly beyond the borders of our land, but we know all that goes on within our bounds. What exactly do you wish to know?"

Tristan said, "I have been sent by the Lady of Astoria to beg your help. The world grows uneasy and restless; evil seems to stir everywhere. I and several others are traveling to many lands and visiting with many peoples in hopes of gathering what information we can on the state of things within each country and also to know what help each land is willing to send should things grow dire."

The little man was silent then began, "as for help, we will fight evil that enters or threatens our borders, but little use are we away from our forest home. We will assist as we can, but we will not send men to die vainly in war. We are not a warrior folk, but we can defend our lives and homes if pressed. We would be underfoot and in the way among larger and more seasoned soldiers in any battle we tried to fight. As far as information, I know only what our scouts have seen. On your last visit here, you pursued one of the evil men who make the strange journey afoot into the swamps beyond the forest in pursuit of the vile Lurkers that roam those forsaken lands. Of late, there seem to be many more journeys by such men, sometimes several men a month are seen making the passage, though not long ago it was only a few men in a year's time. The scouts also bring tidings of nameless and evil creatures roaming farther south than they normally do. Evil seems to stir on all our borders and even within."

They talked long into the night about such things before retiring to bed and sleeping late. Tristan awoke to a glorious breakfast of all the wild bounties the woods could produce. He and his host talked again for much of the day, this time of topics less vital and dark. The man seemed to enjoy news of the outside world and philosophical musings almost as much as he had Arora's music. As late afternoon approached, Tristan felt the need to be on his way and said, "I thank you very much for your hospitality and also for your information. I know you are a quiet folk wishing only to live peacefully in your own way, but I fear a conflict is coming that may consume the whole world and then none may live in peace. The Lady asks only that you stand ready to do what you can. Her thanks and gratitude I also impart." The little man bowed to Tristan, and Tristan returned it in kind. He bid his host a fond farewell and left in search of Nargath the dragon.

### Chapter 2

Several days' journey brought Tristan to the familiar cave in which Nargath was known to lair. As they approached the mouth of the cavern, an unfamiliar and hostile head protruded from the maw of the dragon's lair. A small, black dragon, obviously enraged, stared at the interlopers; smoke curled from his nostrils. "Be gone," said the dragon in a defensive voice.

"I have come seeking Nargath," said Tristan.

"He is not here! Be gone!" snapped the young dragon desperately, "I want no part of you dragon-hunter!"

"Dragon hunter?" Tristan nearly laughed, "who in their right mind goes hunting dragons with nothing but a sword, a dagger, and a bow? I have no lance. Nor do I seek draconian blood. I have come for counsel."

"Counsel?" asked the confused dragon, "what kind of a request is that to make of a dragon?"

Tristan did laugh, "who better to ask for counsel than one who has lived for years beyond count, to whom a century is but a day and man's faintest histories are living memory? I have sought Nargath's wisdom before and I shall seek it again unless life fails me. Is he not here?"

"He has gone hunting and should return presently," said the young dragon, apparently mollified.

"May I ask what a young black dragon is doing in the cave of an ancient green dragon?" asked Tristan, "I have never heard it was draconian custom to share a lair with another dragon."

"It is not," said the youngster, "so where better to hide?"

"Hide?" asked Tristan, "what has a dragon to fear?"

The dragon looked nervously about as if the very trees could hear and said, "I am afraid of humans, most especially Knights and other such dragon killers."

"But why would Nargath hide you in his cave?" asked Tristan, "and why would you want to be closer to civilized lands as you are here than perhaps you would be farther North?"

"I have agreed to provide Nargath with certain information and in exchange he will shelter me from dragon hunters," said the dragon.

"What kind of information would he seek from one younger than himself?" asked Tristan.

Again, the dragon glanced around nervously and said, "some of my kindred are planning to take lands long held by men and for some reason Nargath finds this fascinating."

"Why are you not excited about some sort of draconian revolt or at least indifferent?" asked Tristan.

"Are you joking!" said the terrified young dragon, "if my kin go on the path to war, soon men will be heading into the Wilds to do away with any of my kind they can find. While a dragon of Nargath's age may not have much to fear from a man, a dragon my age is a prime target. I am not yet big enough and my scales are not strong enough to repel such an attack. My elders would go to war and I would sit at home and wait for the Knights to line up and destroy me!"

Tristan looked hopefully at the young dragon and said, "it is such information that I am seeking. I think it would be much better to speak directly to the source, than to ask Nargath to ask you. Would you be willing to speak with me on such matters? I would happily tell all the dragon hunters of my acquaintance that you are not willingly involved in such plots."

"You would!" said the young dragon, "I would happily share such information as I have with you if you would do as you say."

"It is a deal then," said Tristan, "what do you know of these plots amongst your elders?"

"Well," said the youngster, "about a year or three ago the largest and oldest amongst us, The Black Dragon, began calling all of my kind to him and discussing his 'plans' for the future. He says that humans are holding territory that has traditionally belonged to us and we should take it back by force. Most of us are happy with our current holdings and have no interest in looking further for property or treasure, but he seemed obsessed with the idea. So much so that several of the younger dragons are catching his fervor and beginning to speak as he does. I fear they may do something stupid and rekindle the enmity between our species that has thankfully settled into a stagnant stalemate in recent centuries. Thus I am hiding in Nargath's cave lest I be found by an overzealous hunter."

"Are you still in contact with these other dragons?" asked Tristan.

"Oh yes," said the dragon, "if I did not show up at certain meetings I would be suspected of treachery or cowardice, both of which are fatal mistakes among my people."

"Any idea when they may strike or where?" asked Tristan.

"I have no idea," said the dragon, "everything is still in its formative stages but perhaps within a year or two, if they are hasty."

Tristan smiled grimly at the dragon's definition of haste. "Why the sudden change in the attitude of The Black Dragon after so many eons of relative indifference to men?" asked Tristan.

Again he looked around nervously before answering, "it is whispered among some of my closer friends that...though it cannot be true...but...they say that he has not been himself for the last couple years and it is thought that he did something impossible, or at least unthinkable. They think he may have given himself over completely to evil!"

"But I thought black dragons delighted in evil," said Tristan.

"They do delight in maliciousness and cruelty," said the youngster, "but they do not usually give their souls completely over to the Evil One as some men are wont to do."

"You seem a bit more reasonable than I thought your kin were inclined to be," said Tristan.

The dragon seemed to preen, as if he had received a compliment. "Thank you," he said, "I am actually a half breed and am less than fond of my father's side of things. My mother is green. Though as dragons see things I must be black because my scales are; I have a sister who is green with a black's mind. It drives her mad to be treated as a scholar when she wants to be vicious. I would rather be a scholar but am assumed to be a monster by temperament. Yet another reason I was happy to meet Nargath. He sees past my scales and has taught me much. Of course he would teach a sheep if it were a willing pupil."

"Fascinating," was all Tristan could say to such draconian scandal and intrigue.

A deafening roar and a great rush of wind forced Tristan to dismount and seek shelter behind Taragon. Nargath landed nearby and dropped two dead goats on the ground before facing his visitors. "Drat," said the dragon, "do I know you?"

Tristan laughed at the dragon's inability to differentiate between individual humans. "Yes," said Tristan patiently, "but I think you remember my wife's music better than you ever remember me."

"Of course!" said the dragon, reminiscing fondly of Arora's music.

"What brings you way out here?" said the dragon, "and your wife is not with you is she?"

Tristan smiled, "no she is not, I seem to get that a lot lately. The Lady has sent me to see if you know anything of the evil rumors we are hearing. Your young friend has been most helpful, however."

"Helpful?" scoffed Nargath, "if you like him that much take him home with you. He is nothing but a nuisance!"

Tristan smiled, though the tone was gruff there was an undercurrent of fondness in the old dragon's words. "He has informed me of the plot among some of the black dragons," said Tristan, "what can you tell me of the stirring of evil creatures or strange men in the wilds?"

The old dragon sat on his haunches and scratched at his head thoughtfully, "there are definitely an inordinate number of strangers abroad in the wilds lately. There seems to be a sense of unease or restlessness among the darker members of the local flora and fauna. I think something big is coming."

"Such is the Lady's fear," sighed Tristan, "she is sending agents out into all lands and to all known rulers and peoples asking for information and aid. Any chance you can help on the draconian side of things should the unthinkable happen?"

"Hmmm," said the older dragon, "dragon fighting dragon for the sake of men? It is unthinkable, but I can promise to try and influence some of these young hotheads away from their foolishness, but the old Black Dragon you must deal with yourselves."

Tristan bowed his head in acknowledgement, "the Lady sends her thanks for anything you can do."

"I will also volunteer this young pest to fly to Astoria with any fresh gossip or hearsay that comes our way," said Nargath, "at least you can know when the old brute is going to strike."

"Thank you again for all of your counsel and assistance," said Tristan. They spent the remainder of the day in conversation on many things, none of which dealt with war or waking evil. Nargath was a music lover, but if he could not have music he relished good conversation. He especially enjoyed Tristan's tale of the University and its students. Morning came quickly and Tristan felt he must again be about his journey. Nargath and the young dragon wished him well and sent greetings to Arora and the Lady.

As he rode off the younger said to the elder, "if only all men were like him."

"Ah," sighed the elder, "and more dragons too."

Once more heading South and East, Tristan planned to stop in Astoria long enough to relay his information to the Lady and then head on to Syre and the other countries of the Eastern Realms. One night as he camped in the borderlands between Astoria and the Wilds of the North, a strange man sat down beside his small fire. "Can I help you?" asked Tristan cautiously, his hand resting on his sword.

"Perhaps you can," said the stranger, "I could not help but see your fire and had to come over and see what sort of people were here."

"There is only myself," said Tristan.

The other man smiled, "good then you will not be minding if I help myself to anything I take a fancy to. I would take my hand off my weapon if I wear you." He glanced significantly over his shoulder and Tristan noticed a man with a drawn bow hiding in the darkness.

Slowly he moved his hand away from his sword and crossed his arms, "I have nothing of value."

"We will see," said the smiling man. He ransacked the camp and a little too happily searched Tristan's pockets and belt pouch. He came up with nothing of interest, save a few odd coins.

"How disappointing," said the stranger, "but perhaps not a complete loss. You do have a horse, and lucky for you since it may just save your life."

"Why kill me?" asked Tristan.

"Why not?" asked the laughing man, "but I will trade you your life for your horse. That way we can make a trade and you cannot say I have robbed you. If I took nothing, then you would not feel indebted to me and might tell a magistrate or other authority, but if I take your horse you will owe me your life and therefore will not tell anyone." The curious logic completely escaped Tristan, and the man with the bow was also looking rather confused. The man found Taragon's harness and tried to put it on but the unicorn resisted. Tristan, fearing this might get them both killed, bid Targon to cooperate. Taragon laid his ears flat, but allowed himself to be tacked up and led away. He glanced over his shoulder questioningly but Tristan only shook his head. As long as the men did not try to put a rider on Taragon's back, things would be well. A unicorn would rarely carry anyone but his master, and then only if his master bid him do so at the last end of need. Tristan put out his fire and crept off into the darkness, lest the bandits return and change their mind. It was a long, sleepless night but the cold grey of morning finally crept through the trees.

Tristan could feel Taragon to the West, no more than a mile off. From the impressions he received from the creature, it seemed the bandits were stirring and breaking camp. One intrepid thief was about to try his hand on their newly captured horse. Taragon gave ample signs that he was not happy with the situation, but the would-be rider ignored him completely. He flung himself into the saddle and shortly found himself once again earthbound. The man picked himself up and dusted himself off and repeated the spectacle not once but four times before deciding enough was enough. Grabbing a willow switch he meant to teach the dumb beast a lesson, but Taragon struck out with hooves and teeth and would not allow the man anywhere near him. "He has gone mad!" shouted the man to his laughing colleagues.

"Naw," said one of his fellows, "you just ain't a horseman." They all broke into laughter, except the insulted man who quivered with rage.

"I will show you what for," snarled the man. Violence would have broken out at that point had not half a dozen mounted men ridden into the clearing and surrounded the distracted bandits.

"You are under arrest," said the leader of the group.

"By whose authority?" snarled the lead bandit.

"By the Lady of Astoria," said the man.

"She has no jurisdiction here!" snapped the bandit, "neither does anyone else."

"The Lady has authority wherever men break the Common Law and traipse upon the rights of others," said the man patiently, "if you had broken such laws in civilized lands, I would turn you over to the governing authority, but here in the wilderness you must face the justice I will mete out."

"What have you to charge me with?" scoffed the bandit.

The mounted man said, "I have half a dozen complaints from a variety of individuals about your thievery. Thankfully no one has accused you of worse. Though I begin to wonder where you found that horse." He looked at Taragon curiously; he had watched the little debacle between man and beast from a distance and began to wonder if this was actually a horse at all. His own mount let him know that it was not and told him the identity of the strange unicorn. Fear gnawed at his mind, but he chased it away. No unicorn would allow such treatment had his master been slain. Tristan must have allowed Taragon to be captured for him to remain so calm. As if on cue, Tristan came out of the woods lugging his saddlebags over his shoulder.

Taragon whickered a greeting and nuzzled his delinquent master. Tristan secured his saddlebags behind the saddle and mounted. "I see you have found a few friends of mine Turin," laughed Tristan.

"Yes," said the other man, "they had found themselves a rather disagreeable new horse. I am glad for your sake and theirs that no worse happened."

"Me too," smiled Tristan. "What brings you out here?" asked Tristan.

"The Lady has us riding patrol in the empty lands between Astoria and the Northern Wilds," said Turin, "bandits such as these are becoming very bold indeed. Some have ranged even into Astoria itself." Tristan gasped, nothing like that had happened in his lifetime.

"Things are growing dangerous," said Tristan, "I was careless with my fire last night. I had no idea things had grown this desperate so close to Astoria. I will be more careful hereafter."

"I hope so," said Turin, "as I cannot rescue you from bandits whenever the fancy strikes you to be careless."

"I must be on my way," said Tristan, "these men have cost me enough time." He exchanged farewells with his friend and rode on towards Astoria with all speed. He soon arrived in Astoria and delivered his news immediately to the Lady.

She said, "it is as I feared, but at least our fears are starting to flesh out and take on some semblance of reality rather than remaining wild fancies."

"Are there truly bandits raiding into Astoria?" asked Tristan.

The Lady smiled grimly, "there have been a few incidents within our farthest borders, but things are not yet that desperate. I still keep chaos and anarchy at bay and travelers go safely within our bounds." Tristan grinned ruefully at her mild reproach. "But," said the Lady, "as you are here and are in need of protection from such bandits I will provide it." Tristan looked at her in confusion as she clapped her hands and a servant summoned someone from behind a closed door.

"Geff?" asked Tristan in astonishment.

"Yes," said the Lady, "he has recently taken his Oath and is in need of a mentor. You are in need of caution and another pair of eyes." Tristan bowed in acknowledgment, though an apprentice was not what he had hoped to leave Astoria with. "You shall leave within the hour for Syre," said the Lady. Tristan bowed again and ushered his awestruck apprentice out of her presence.

Once they were in the hall, Tristan said to Geff, "when did you get here?"

The boy laughed, "shortly after Arora's trial at the University. After I had spent some months here and then went back to the University, it did not take me long to decide where true wisdom was to be found. I came swiftly back here and have been buried in classes and books while you have been drilling students in the arts of war."

"Oh," said Tristan a bit embarrassed that he had missed noticing the young man during their months together in the same castle. "If you are so interested in books and philosophy why does the Lady have you chasing after me?" asked Tristan.

The boy smiled, "I have an interest in knowledge, but also in the wider world. She is sending me with you because I aspire to be a master of not only knowledge but also of the sword."

"You want to be a Messenger?" asked Tristan in astonishment.

"Of course," said the boy, "I would grow weary if I only taught or fought, but I want to do both and more." Tristan nodded knowingly, his was the smallest sect of the Brethren, but also the most versatile in function. He never had a dull assignment, well almost never.

"We had best saddle up," said Tristan, "are you packed?" The boy nodded. As they entered the courtyard, a strange unicorn stood beside Taragon, fully saddled and ready to go. It seemed everyone but himself knew what was going on. Silently they mounted and headed towards Dara, the capital city of Syre. Geff was by now an excellent horseman, though when Tristan had first known him he hardly knew one end of a horse from the other. They traveled swiftly and when they stopped for the night Tristan sparred with Geff with and without swords, perfecting his defensive techniques. As they rode, they often talked upon a variety of subjects. Overall, Tristan was highly impressed with the youth. It was also nice to have someone to talk to and someone to help keep watch. It made the journey East go much faster. Soon they reached Dara and applied to the King.

During their travels, Tristan's plans were to keep their identity as members of the Brethren a secret as much as possible. They waited patiently at the gate to the palace until the guard returned with the King's answer. He said, "his Majesty the King will see you in due course, though it may take some weeks before an opportune time arises."

Tristan said, "my Mistress bids me haste on my errand which is of the utmost importance to her and also to the King and his people."

"Who should I say sent you?" asked the bored guard.

"Tell his Highness that a very noble Lady sends him greetings," said Tristan cryptically.

The guard raised his eyebrows skeptically, not understanding but Tristan hoped the King would. "His majesty shall see you in due course," said the guard mechanically. This was not getting him anywhere. He could not wait 'weeks' to see the King.

Tristan tried another tack, "may I inquire after the presence of Berg among the King's advisors?"

The guard said, "he is still numbered among the men who claim to advise the King. Shall I send him your greetings as well?"

"If you would be so kind," said Tristan. The man walked off slowly, leaving Tristan and Geff to stare at the emotionless faces of the guards blocking their way. What seemed like hours later, the guard returned with an anxious Berg in tow. Tristan had not seen him in years, but he remembered the cheerful man well.

He glanced at Tristan and Geff and then turned to the guard saying, "he is an old friend of mine. You may admit him under my authority."

The guard said to Berg, "if I do that, any trouble he makes will fall on your head."

"I understand," said the overly patient Berg, "let them in."

The guards parted and they led their mounts into the courtyard where they were quickly whisked away by servants. The duo was silent as Berg led them deep into the castle and brought them to an absolutely tiny chamber. "This is my grand sleeping chamber," said the jubilant Berg. Tristan smiled at the man's humor.

"I am sorry to disturb you," said Tristan, "but the Lady has sent us in haste and I cannot wait 'weeks' to see the king."

Berg smiled, "you are never a burden. Any command of the Lady's is as much an order to me as to you. You were also wise not to wait 'weeks' as it may have turned out to be years. The King is not very good at keeping appointments, especially for unimportant strangers. I have a private audience with him tomorrow and you are welcome to accompany me. What does the Lady wish to know?" Tristan told Berg of his errand and he nodded grimly, "the rumors are true then. I feared as much. We hear rumors of bandits on the borders and monsters in the darkest woods, but we are far removed from such evils here. The King is not what one would call proactive in the area of defense. A problem must be right on top of him before he worries about it, and sometimes not even then. He prefers to let things work themselves out. How he maintains order in a country as large as Syre I do not know, though I think it is mainly because it is such a prosperous country that the people have little to be restless about."

"What of the University?" asked Tristan.

Berg sighed, "ah yes, the University. It has improved dramatically in the last few months, but still teaches much nonsense. They have moved one of the larger departments out to some dreary castle on the coast as I have been told."

Tristan smiled recalling what a headache the institution had been before its recent changes. "Which department?" asked Tristan.

Berg said, "the only worthwhile one. I think they moved it out into the middle of nowhere to discourage would-be students from learning something useful, though I think it only makes it more exciting. From what I hear they are seeing a record number of students. I have even heard rumors that the Lady has actually sent some of the Brethren to teach there!"

Tristan smiled, "my wife is one of them."

"I had heard a rumor of such a thing," laughed Berg. Tristan smiled. The Brethren seldom married and when they did, were only permitted to marry a fellow member of the Brethren. Therefore, a marriage within the Brethren was always exciting news. Tristan introduced Geff and said he had been a former student at the University. Berg raised his eyebrows but congratulated the boy on his decision to join the Brethren. They talked until it was time for the evening meal; then they quickly cleaned up and went in search of dinner. Geff, who had never attended a court function, was amazed by the grandeur that attended something as mundane as supper. People were dressed in very fancy clothes, there were servants everywhere, and the food seemed extravagant for such an ordinary affair. They ate their meal in relative silence, as no one seemed very interested in a minor advisor and his guests. One guest particularly caught Tristan's eye; a man in a black uniform emblazoned with a fiery serpent.

"Who is that?" asked Tristan surreptitiously of Berg.

Berg said, "he is a nasty piece of work. His is called Merton and he is the representative of the Legion to the King. I much preferred his predecessor when it was still the Order, but he has been dismissed because he spent a few months in Astoria. I hear it is the same in all the lands between the Eastern and Western seas. I miss the days when such men were simply pompous windbags; this one must bathe in anger and drink frustration like wine. He has no patience and little sense, a dangerous combination. He has already informed me that should the Legion declare it, he will happily be my enemy."

Tristan said, "lovely." Geff blanched in concern.

As if smelling Geff's fear, Merton deigned to join them. "Hello Traitor," said Merton conversationally to Berg, "I see you have finally found yourself some friends, or should I say fellow conspirators? I know your kind and I do not like them. You will do well to shorten your stay and disappear entirely. Do not trifle with me." Tristan bowed politely. The man seemed to take it as an affront and returned to his place, occasionally glaring suspiciously at the three men. Dinner concluded with no one else taking an interest in the plainly dressed men, though Berg was a little more formal in his uniform. The courtiers gathered to share gossip and intrigues, but the three Brethren retired to Berg's chambers for some much needed rest. They awoke early the next morning. Apparently the King kept very strange hours and Berg sometimes met with him before dawn. At least today their meeting was set for after sunrise yet before breakfast. They tidied up as best they could in the tiny room and proceeded to the designated meeting room. The King sat before a large table laden with all manner of delicacies. They stood and watched him eat while they made their appeals to him. "Your Majesty," said Berg, "may I introduce Tristan and Geff. Emissaries from the Lady of Astoria, sent in all haste to seek your counsel."

"My counsel?" laughed the King, "what can an old dotard like me tell men of your learning?"

Tristan bowed and said, "Sire, the Lady sends her greetings and also asks your counsel. All across the known world evil is stirring and rumors are flying. The Lady is desperate to know what is truth and what is fancy. What do you know of evil happenings within your borders and what help will you send at the uttermost end of need?"

The King yawned expansively and said, "I know little enough of what happens in my own keep. What can I tell you of things that go bump in the night? You would be better served to speak with one of my generals about such matters. As for aid, he could answer that question as well. I seek only peace and amusement; it is he that keeps this kingdom running smoothly."

"Sire," said Tristan, "you may leave the day to day functioning of things in the hands of your generals, but if the world seems ready to plunge into irredeemable darkness it is up to you to give the order to send your men to fight in the last desperate battle else peace and amusement will cease for all, both small and great alike. What is your answer, Sire?"

The King looked serious for a moment and then said, "you speak of an inevitable battle. What if such never comes?"

"Your Majesty," said Tristan, "our people have died trying to keep the darkness from overwhelming all we hold dear. It is my dearest prayer that such a desperate day never comes, but if it does, we must know if you will be there to stand beside us or if we fight alone."

He spoke with such fervent hope that the King could not help but be moved and said, "should that day come, my armies shall be there to fight the falling night." Tristan bowed and could not find words to do honor to such a sentiment. Berg had never seen the King in such a noble mood. They bowed themselves out and went in search of a general.

General Kern was presumably busy in his rooms when the three men were ushered in by a servant. He welcomed the distraction from his normal routine. He was surprised at Tristan's request but happy to be of service. Here was a more attentive audience than ever the King had been. He verified that yes, there had been an increase in the number of bandits about the countryside and that some of the more distant villages were trying to secede from the Kingdom. There had even been rumors of monsters roaming in civilized territory. He was very supportive of the King's proclamation of supporting the war effort should evil threaten to overtake the world. He said he would send word to all of his colleagues and underlings to stand ready. Overall, it was a very encouraging meeting (except for the news of more evil tidings). As the three walked to the dining hall in search of the midday meal, they encountered Merton once more, "I hope you are behaving yourselves. Though I would dearly love to find a reason to haul you off to Panmycea to face true justice."

"The Legion had best mind its own business," said Berg, "and I doubt such a thing as justice exists within Panmycea these days." The man snarled at them and stormed out of the hall. It was a silent and grim meal. After they ate, Tristan said they must be continuing on. He had to stop by the University and its other campus before heading into Arca. Berg bid them farewell and was not happy to be left alone with Merton, but perhaps with his guests gone Merton would not be so apt to seek him out for unpleasant conversations. Merton watched from an upper window as the strangers rode off, wondering what it portended.

### Chapter 3

Tristan visited the University briefly and found things radically changed, but somehow not very much different. The same air of otherworldliness endured though the lecture topics were much more relevant to everyday life. Geff enjoyed the opportunity to reaffirm his choice to join the Brethren. It was refreshing to know one's life had purpose and meaning, whereas at the University it was not always clear why people did the things they did, especially to themselves. After finding the faculty and students as clueless to happenings in the world at large as ever, Tristan gave up trying to enlist help or garner information from such a source. They rode swiftly for the crumbling fortress on the edge of the sea. The night was wet and dark as they rode up to the gates. "Who goes?" came the familiar question.

"We seek Arora," said Tristan.

"Professor Arora is not to be disturbed, especially by unannounced strangers," said the man at the gate.

"You will let me in now," said Tristan, "or she will not be happy when she finds you have barred my way."

"Why should I listen to you?" asked the man.

"I have urgent business with her and I know she is desperate to see me as well," said Tristan patiently. "

Why should she be anxious to see you?" asked the man, "and what right have you to disturb her rest on such a night?"

"She is my wife," said Tristan quietly.

"I am sure she is," laughed the man, "in your dreams." The conversation had caught the attention of a man standing further inside the courtyard.

"What is all this noise?" asked the newcomer.

"Nothing sir," said the other man, "just a pair of gate crashers who will not wait until morning to bother the Professor."

The newcomer looked over the pair of men standing out in the rain and said, "you had better let them in now or the Professor will be very unhappy."

"Yes sir," said the guard, "but why?"

"She will not be happy to find out you have left her husband standing out in the rain," said the other man. The gate opened and Tristan and Geff squeezed inside out of the rain.

The guard looked apologetically at the pair, "I beg your pardon sirs, but it was all in the name of security."

"No harm done," said Tristan, then he faced the man who had convinced the guard to let them in, "Raye! It is good to see you."

"And you sir," said the boy, "I see Geff is still alive though not free of your influence." All three laughed.

"Please lead the way," said Tristan. The student nodded and trotted off in the direction of Arora's chambers.

Arora sat alone in her room quietly practicing a new song on her instrument when a knock came at the door. It must be important for her to be disturbed at such an hour. She opened the door and soon found herself set upon by a very wet and cold man. It took her a moment to realize this was no attack, but arms hungry from months of separation. She nearly wept with joy as she returned her husband's zealous greeting. She recovered herself enough to ask her guests to come in. She greeted Geff warmly. Raye excused himself and returned to his duties. "I am sorry we cannot stay long," said Tristan, "but at least I can see you for tonight and part of tomorrow. The Lady has me touring much of the Eastern world and I must make haste, but I had see you."

He told her of their errand and she replied, "there are indeed dark and evil things lurking in the wild places of Syre. I am also aware of several villages and outlying lords that are thinking about revolting against the King; it also grows dangerous to travel for fear of bandits upon the road. It is truly a perilous time and I fear things shall swiftly grow worse. As for aide, we have many students learning the sword, but we can only send a small force, inexperienced at that. But we will do what we must, even if our army falls short of a dozen soldiers." Tristan smiled at her forced mirth.

"Geff," said Arora kindly, "will you go find Raye and ask him to find you quarters for the night?" The boy stood, bowed, and disappeared from the room. Arora and Tristan spent much of the night deep in talk and just enjoying what little time they had together. In the morning, they ate breakfast together and then Tristan had to be on the road once more. Arora cried as she said farewell to Tristan, but even this brief visit lightened her heart. They rode for Arca.

Upon their road, they occasionally saw shadows ghosting silently by in the darkness but nothing entered their camp. Tristan had no further encounters with bandits, though the sight of two well-armed men in raggedy clothing was not an enticing lure for would-be thieves seeking easier or richer prey. Without incident they arrived in Arca, the capital city of the country of the same name. Tristan hoped Bristol was still about the palace though the way things had been going of late he doubted the man was still a part of the Order. Instead of applying to the King, he asked immediately for Bristol. The guard sent a servant running for the man and he appeared soon after. Bristol smiled at the sight of Tristan, though worry and fatigue were plain upon his face. He nodded to the guard who let the pair pass.

"It is good to see you!" said Bristol, "it has been a difficult time to serve in such a place. Lyre has taken over my position with the Order. He is even worse than he ever used to be. Before he was simply a pompous fool, now he acts as if he is one step below the King. His obsequiousness has been replaced by viciousness. It is a fell sign that the Order would let such as him resume his former glory after such a dismal failure. I am glad I am no longer in their service."

"It still cannot be easy," said Tristan, "to have been tossed aside so easily and also to serve daily with such a man. He was bad enough when last I knew him. I cannot imagine him now." They retreated to Bristol's quarters and Tristan told of his mission.

Bristol said, "it seems ill news comes from everywhere in these dark days. The King is still lost in his vain pursuit of wisdom or its imposters. His generals are left to their own devices. I can introduce you to them, though you will still need the King's permission to command his soldiers. I will do what I can. There are evil things abroad in the land, crime is increasing, and the odd village and a few lesser nobles are thinking about open revolt. It seems the same story you are hearing everywhere." Tristan nodded glumly. Business done, they switched to more enjoyable topics until it was time for the evening meal. They made their way down to the banquet hall and found places in the back. Again, they were ignored for most of the meal. Tristan kept a close eye out for Lyre, but it seemed he was busy elsewhere. As they were leaving to return to Bristol's quarters they very nearly ran into the man.

"You!" screamed the startled Lyre, "how dare you show your face here. You are a wanted man." He smiled evilly, "and I can finally arrest you as you deserve."

"Arrest me?" said Tristan, "by whose authority?"

"The Legion has a warrant out for your arrest; they want your head," said Lyre joyfully.

"What have I done?" asked Tristan.

"There are a variety of charges, but most of them can be summed up with the word treason," said Lyre enjoying every moment.

"I do not recognize the authority of the Legion," said Tristan, "and while it was the Order, I served faithfully."

"Who cares if you recognize their authority," said Lyre, "they are an authority and they have deemed you a criminal worthy of death. I am sure the King will see it my way and allow me to send your head to my masters."

"I have broken no law or oath," said Tristan, "and the Lady of Astoria is the only authority I answer to unless I break Oath. Even then I must face justice under the laws of the land in which I committed said crime. You will not take me." There was a rasping of metal on metal as Lyre drew his sword, but he soon found three blades to his one as all three Brethren bared their blades. Several guards rushed into the scene before things escalated to bloodshed.

"Put up your weapons," said the Captain, "what is the meaning of this?"

"I was placing this man under arrest," said Lyre sheathing his blade, "and he resisted."

"He has no authority to arrest me," said Tristan, "we were merely preparing to defend ourselves should he choose to push things."

"The King will hear your case on the morrow," said the Captain, "tonight I hope you enjoy your stay in the dungeon." All four were disarmed and unceremoniously hauled off to the dungeon. Lyre was placed in a separate cell as he might have strangled Tristan had he been allowed access to him. No one slept well and all wondered how the King would rule on such a case.

Morning came, and after a dismal breakfast of dry bread and stale water they were hauled before the entire court unshaven and unwashed. The King sat upon his throne and the whole court looked on. That two of his advisors and a couple of strangers would behave in such a way provided some much needed excitement to the tedious business that usually was a day at court. The King was delighted to hear the case. First Lyre was allowed to speak, "Your Majesty, it is with great pleasure that I chanced upon this vile perpetrator and now have the chance to bring him to justice. However, he was willing to resist and as such stirred up the excellent royal guard which required the immediate incarceration of us all. The Legion has justly called for this man's head and I beg your Majesty to grant said request in return for their undying gratitude. He is a vile traitor and need not trouble you further. Please allow me the privilege of arresting him and sending him to a swift execution."

The King, bored by Lyre's recitation called on Bristol to explain his side of things, "Sire, it has been my privilege to serve with this man both in the Order and the Brethren. Lyre has ever been at odds with him and tried once before to have him charged with treason only to fail miserably and be stripped of rank and banished to a training cadre. The Order has recently suffered a drastic shift in mission and name and now calls itself the Legion of the Serpent. I am no longer a part of such a vile group and rejoice in my freedom. The Legion is far from just and has no right to call for the arrest of a man so unassociated with them in their current incarnation. Tristan left the Order a well respected and honored man. It is only with the changing of the Order to the Legion that nefarious men now call for his arrest on charges as false as Lyre's sincerity."

The King was greatly amused by Bristol's monologue and now called upon Tristan to answer for himself, "Your Highness, I do not know what the Legion has against me or the Brethren, but I do know Lyre has a personal grudge and is not objective in his judgments. If you so declare me an enemy of the state, spare these two. They were merely trying to protect me against this pompous fool."

"That is all you wish to say?" asked the King in surprise.

"Yes, your Majesty," said Tristan.

"Then here is my decision," said the King, "if you wish to arrest this man Lyre, you must do so elsewhere. I find no cause for his detention or execution. As long as he is within the bounds of Arca you have no jurisdiction over him. If you wish to push the matter, challenge him to a duel or forever hold your peace." Lyre flushed red at the king's words, though whether in anger at the King not using his title or over Tristan's escape or both, no one knew.

Lyre said, "let it be so witnessed that I hereby challenge Tristan to a duel to the death." Tristan, not surprised by such a move hesitated. If he won, the Legion might use it as an excuse to declare war on the Brethren. Losing was most definitely not an option. He could decline, but that would not do his mission any good in the eyes of the King.

Tristan said, "let it be duly noted that I will accept this challenge only if Lyre agrees that it is between himself and I. This is not a clash between the Legion and the Brethren."

"So noted," said Lyre triumphantly, he could almost taste the sweetness of victory. The King nodded his assent and the men received back their weapons and the crowd formed a circle in which the combatants would be enclosed. If there was one thing they liked more than intrigue, it was bloodshed. Tristan sighed as he looked at the bloodthirsty crowd but took his place in the circle. An official was drawn from the crowd and the pair faced each other. Lyre smiled like a cat eyeing a cornered mouse; Tristan looked grim. The official called for their attention, went over the rules, and gave the signal to start. Lyre lunged in almost immediately, slashing like a madman. Tristan held him at bay. Frustration welled up in Lyre as he fought as hard as he could but could not get a single blow past Tristan's defenses. Lyre kept up the onslaught, but soon grew weary; he was not in top fighting condition. Tristan was hardly breaking a sweat; Lyre looked ready to pass out. As Lyre slowed down, Tristan moved in for the kill. If the man was as skilled a swordsman as he thought he was no one could rival him, but he was far from his fond imaginings. Soon the man was on the floor and out of the fight. With a couple well-placed blows, Tristan had rendered him helpless but did not drive home the killing stroke. Lyre sat on the floor waiting for imminent death, but it never came. After the final blow, Tristan wiped his blade and returned it to its sheath.

Lyre stared in disbelief and then wailed, "you must finish! If you do not finish I declare you a coward and a disgrace."

Tristan turned back to face him, "there is no cowardice or disgrace in sparing a life."

"I deserve an honorable death!" screamed Lyre.

Tristan said, "then you must seek it elsewhere." The man seemed to go mad with frustration. He picked up his discarded sword and rushed at Tristan's turned back. Tristan turned but had no time to draw his blade. He saw his own death written in Lyre's face, but before he could strike the fatal blow, Lyre's mad rush was cut short. Lyre gasped in pain as he fell to the floor, clasping the blade thrust through his own chest.

In a raspy wail he cried, "it cannot end like this..." And he said no more. The wide-eyed Geff retrieved his blade and wiped the blood on the dead man's cloak. He then sat down upon the floor and wept. Tristan was almost as wide-eyed as his apprentice; but gently raised him to his feet and escorted him out of the center of the crowd. The courtiers erupted in applause; seldom did they see such interesting antics. The three retreated to Bristol's quarters.

"It is never easy to kill a man," said Tristan with his arm about the boy's shoulder, "even when it is absolutely necessary."

The boy looked up through reddened eyes, "was it necessary?"

"If you had not, it would be me lying dead instead of Lyre," said Tristan quietly, "he forced your hand. It was of his own doing; you merely did your duty. It should never be easy, but you must never let that stop you from doing what you must." They sat quietly for some time and allowed the boy the time he needed to recover from the shock and the terror of recent events. Eventually a servant came and summoned them to the King. They bowed formally upon entering his presence.

"What has brought you hither and spawned such strange events?" said the King.

"I come on behalf of the Lady of Astoria," said Tristan, "she seeks knowledge and aid in the coming darkness."

"Yes," said the King, "all the world seems to be falling towards disaster. Knowledge you must seek from your colleagues and my generals. Aid I will send when the time comes for us to stand together or fail separately." Tristan bowed. The audience was at an end. They made their farewell courtesies and left the King's presence and went in search of his generals. His commanding officers had been greatly impressed by Tristan's skills with a blade and were equally ready to follow their King's orders should the need arise. They repeated much of what Bristol had said about the evils stirring in Arca. By late afternoon, Tristan and Geff had bid farewell to Bristol and were once again on the road.

The next leg of their journey would take them away from the coastal countries and into the three tiny nations that bordered western Arca and Syre. Then they would ride to Vespera and finally home. The three smaller countries within the Eastern Realms were rather odd in that they were not so much countries as they were conglomerations of independent villages. Each village had a duly elected representative and each representative had one vote. The representatives elected a leader for themselves who settled disputes, moderated debates, and voted only to break any ties. It was a strange system for the times, but it worked for the miniscule nations who chose to maintain it. As such, Tristan could not present himself to the King or absolute ruler of the three countries. He could however, apply to the elected Leader who could then call a meeting of the Representatives and there could be a vote. The first of the three countries was Capna. After some inquiry, they located the village where the Leader resided. As the two scruffy strangers rode into the small hamlet on their shaggy horses, much curiosity was aroused amongst the villagers. They did not see strangers often (even though their village housed the Leader, this may demonstrate the relative importance of the three tiny countries in the eyes of the world), and strangers as travel worn as these two must be up to no good or bring dire news. Tristan smiled as he heard whispers of thievery, seduction, and the end of the world. Who needed court intrigue when the village rumor mill could produce just as much mystery and excitement?

They dismounted outside the inn and asked after the Leader's location. The innkeeper smiled and pointed towards a well-dressed man sitting alone at a table with an empty mug in front of him. The innkeeper said, "you will find His Grace holding court in here most evenings." As it looked, appearing at court was not of major importance to the villagers. Tristan and Geff wandered over to the table and greeted the venerable Leader.

He motioned for them to take a seat across from him, "what news of the world my strange friends?"

"We were hoping you could help us out with that," said Tristan, "we have been sent to a number of lands and Kings to inquire after tidings of evil in this dire hour and also to ask what aid they are willing to offer should war break forth upon the world."

The man's mouth fell open at such pronouncements of doom and said, "things are a bit riskier these days if one is wishing to travel abroad after dark. There are rumors of evil things in the deeps of the forest and shifty characters are traveling openly upon the road. We have increased the patrols that ride the major roads and enforce our laws; they have seen an increase in the number of 'incidents' they are called upon to investigate. Otherwise, we have no great tidings to report. What of the rest of the world?"

Tristan said, "it is much the same elsewhere. Rumors of monsters, bandits, and revolts abound. The very air seems to stir with evil. The world itself seems to sit on the verge of darkness, waiting for the final plunge. That is why the Lady of Astoria is sending men into all known lands to ask for tidings and what aid they are willing to send to the last, desperate fight." The man gasped at mention of Astoria. Few of his people had ever left their own villages, let alone traveled to such a mysterious and almost mythical country. Some of the Brethren had occasionally passed through the lesser parts of the Eastern Realms, but were considered little more than traveling teachers or musicians by the locals and much less important than the price of pigs or the morrow's weather. Although they welcomed such diversions when they could get them.

"What are you asking of us?" asked the Leader cautiously.

"Only that you consider what you are willing to do should the worst befall the world and word reach you that the situation is dire," said Tristan, "your patrols may be little more than farmers armed with bows and axes, but in the last fight against utter darkness even a boy with a stick is better than nothing."

"But what of our farms and villages?" asked the Leader, "we must not leave them undefended."

Tristan smiled sadly, "should 'the worst' happen and we fail to drive it back it will little matter whether you defend your homes or not. The darkness will engulf you sooner or later if all else fails."

The man nodded grimly, "I see your point. I shall call a meeting of the Representatives immediately and you may plead your case with them." He motioned with his hand and a small boy came running up. He said to the lad, "get the message out that a Meeting is called for tomorrow at noon. Go!" The boy did his best at a serious salute then dashed off to pass the message round the village and send riders off to the other villages in question. The man smiled fondly after the retreating child. "My son," he said simply. As night fell, the villagers crowded into the inn to see what the strangers had to say. They enjoyed news from abroad, even if it never seemed to affect their little corner of the world. They were especially eager as they had heard of the impending meeting, a thing which was rarely done save in emergencies and at the Annual Meeting. Tristan tried to keep talk away from nasty rumors and spent much of his time telling ancient tales or discussing local events. After an enjoyable evening of food and conversation, they slipped off to bed. The next morning found the Representatives assembling already upon the village green and the eager villagers already staking out favorable spots to watch. Precisely at noon, all of the Representatives were accounted for and Tristan repeated his oft said words to the gathered men. To a man they voted in favor of sending whatever aid they could scrape up should the need arise. Tristan thanked them in the name of the Lady and they set off once more for the next little country upon their road.

Alaria was the next of the tiny nations and had already assembled its Representatives by the time Tristan arrived (rumor traveled faster than unicorns it seemed). They heard Tristan's case and did as Capna had. As the day's proceedings were winding down, a rider arrived from the third of the three tiny nations giving Tristan his answer before ever he rode thither. It appeared all three countries would happily send what help they could in a crisis. Though Tristan felt the need for haste, he allowed the excited villagers to convince him to stay the night. Tomorrow he would ride for Vespera and then for home. A large number of people were assembling from not only surrounding villages but also from the other countries (it was not a great distance) and an impromptu festival was about to take place. A bonfire was lit upon the green, villagers put on their best clothes, copious amounts of food were brought forth by the ladies, and several of the men produced an impressive array of instruments and began to play. Geff was popular among the young ladies who thought him quite the dashing young hero (every woman loves a man with a sword); he danced with them eagerly, but when asked if he was interested in settling down he blushed profusely and sought Tristan's protection.

Tristan said, "you may be a great warrior and scholar, but it will take far more than that to understand women. I will not protect you from them." He laughed at the boy's discomfiture, but he would have to learn someday how to deal with people, especially attractive young ladies. The girls giggled at the bashfulness of such a theoretically fearless man. The evening passed pleasantly and was a welcome diversion from the rigors of travel. But early the next morning they were once again on the road.

Vespera was a small country West of the Eastern realms. Tristan was quite eager to see Conrad again; his friend was the Lady's envoy to the Queen of Vespera. The weather had turned warm and the first buds and early plants were starting to break out of winter's grasp. Even a brave bird was heard occasionally piping in some distant thicket. It was a pleasant time to travel, except when the spring rains came in earnest. In the midst of such a storm the weary travelers reached the gates of Lorna, the capital city of Vespera. Tristan applied directly to Conrad, though he knew the Queen personally, there was some awkwardness between them. Conrad met them at the gates smiling, "welcome back, I hope you have better tidings than I have to tell." They handed their mounts to the waiting grooms and followed Conrad into the castle. He told them the same things they had heard everywhere else. Conrad was not surprised to hear of Tristan's tidings or the reason for his visit. "I am sure the Queen will give the Lady her full support; though this would be unnecessary had you become King of Vespera," laughed Conrad.

Tristan gave him a mortified look and Geff looked very interested in the story. "I will tell you later," sighed Tristan. They went directly to the Queen as Conrad thought it appropriate, though Tristan wished he could sink through the stone floor. They bowed themselves into the Queen's presence and she returned their greeting with a regal nod.

"Come to beg for the Kingship?" asked the Queen lightly. Now it was Tristan's turn to blush and Geff looked ready to explode anticipating the story. Conrad grinned like an idiot.

Conrad cleared his throat and said, "Majesty, my mortified colleague has come on business from the Lady."

Tristan gave Conrad a significant look and said to the Queen, "Majesty it is always a pleasure to see you, but I am still unable to accept such an offer and ever shall be." He bowed respectfully and then proceeded to outline his mission.

The Queen nodded gravely, "I suspected such when your presence became known to me. Tell the Lady she shall have our full aid should it be required." Tristan bowed in thanks. She then dismissed them and attended to other business.

Walking back to Conrad's quarters, Tristan finally put Geff out of his misery and told him the full tale which turned out not to be as amusing as he had hoped. They spent the balance of the night with Conrad discussing the incessant evil that seemed everywhere to be lurking just beyond sight. After dinner they took a stroll in the castle gardens.

Tristan was somehow not surprised to happen upon the Legion's duly appointed representative. He sneered as he approached the small group, "Conrad, I see you have acquired a procession. How much are you paying them? By their clothes I would say not enough." He laughed at his own insipid joke.

Conrad patiently replied, "they are simply friends who have come on business to the Queen. It need not concern you."

"All things within the bounds of Vespera concern me," said the man, "because they concern the Legion. These men look like troublemakers, much like yourself. The day is coming when you will not openly display your filthy allegiance. Mark my words."

"So noted," sighed Conrad, "will that make you go away?"

The man smiled mirthlessly, "I am ever present wherever treachery and evil hide."

"That would explain your membership in the Legion," smiled Conrad. The man reached for his sword but thought better of it when he saw that it would be three against one. "You are lucky tonight," said the man turning to go, "but in the future you may not be."

"I do not believe in luck," said Conrad to the retreating figure who made no answer. Conrad shivered, "they were bad enough when they were the Order. Now that they are the Legion I feel like bathing after simply passing them in the hall. Whatever happened to Lyre?"

Tristan smiled grimly, "he received his rank back after the changes within the Order and was serving as the Legion's envoy to Arca. He was recently bested in a duel."

"I cannot say that I am too sorry," said Conrad, "though I do wish he had come to a change of heart during his exile into ignominy." They awoke early the next morning and headed directly for Astoria. The journey was uneventful and the Lady was eager to hear their news. As her agents returned form every corner of the world, the news was much the same as Tristan and Geff had discovered. While every country was willing to send aid if absolutely necessary, each had so much to do just managing the little flare-ups and increasing chaos within their own lands that nothing but ultimate disaster would draw them from the confines of their own borders. The thought of the oldest and most terrible of the evil dragons with a grudge against humankind was not a joyful thought, but that was an inevitability they must face when it came.

### Excerpt from Book II of 'In Shadow,' series: To Shadow Bound:

The wagon lurched into motion, leaving a grim and horrified crowd in its wake. Nothing like it had ever happened before in the history of Astoria and all hoped it would never happen again. Kent watched the vehicle vanish into the city, bearing with it all sense of right and good to be buried in some unmarked grave, never to be remembered more, or so it felt, for how could the world go on after such inexplicable evil in the very heart of Astoria? He had dedicated his life to order, honor, justice, and peace, yet two men he had once esteemed as the epitome of those very precepts now lay dead: one murdered and the other executed for the crime. With a heavy heart he withdrew into the heart of the keep, praying desperately for some answer, to make some sense of the situation, but he fell asleep with no answers and no consolation to his grieving heart.

His dreams were dark and terrible, his deepest fears and griefs come to life. He walked in a misty world of darkness with fear at his side, an unwelcome companion upon a road he did not wish to take. Something howled in the darkness and answers came from every direction, grim eyes like embers glowed malevolently out of the night dark mist. Kent shivered and reached for his sword, the cold familiar weight little comfort in his hand, for it was little defense against such foes and none at all against the Voices.

One hissed, "where is justice now?"

Another mocked, "you dedicated your life to this cause, is this what you wanted?"

"Where is your Master on this tragic day?" jeered yet another.

Laughed a fourth, "is this all there is?"

Kent dropped his sword and put his hands over his ears, trying to block out the taunting scorn in those hideous Voices, but they still echoed in his mind, driving him to his knees, tears of horror and dread in his eyes, praying that they could not possibly be right, but there came no answer, only the Voices. They mocked and jeered at him, laughed in contempt at all he was and had ever done or hoped to do, slowly drawing closer, their eyes like furious stars in the shrouding mist. He had no hope of survival, he knew that, they would taunt him, mock him, try and break him, and then they would devour him utterly, unless he despaired of all he had ever believed and joined ranks with them. He was on his face, weeping like a forsaken child alone in the night, their taunts and mockery ringing true: where was the Master now? Where was hope amid despair, life in the midst of death, light in the darkness? It had been promised but it had not come; it would not come, laughed the fiends.

Suddenly the Voices began to whisper in agitation, a tremor ran through them like wind in the grass; their scorn was suddenly replaced by terror and they fled, not far, but Kent could no longer smell their fetid breath, like rotten carrion, cold upon his face. He dared to look up, and for a moment a far different terror seized his heart, for another apparition stood before him, this one invoking dread of another kind. Which fate was worse he could not then determine: to be set upon by the fiends and torn asunder or to forever wander the world, a ghost without rest or home. For that is what stood before him, a ghost, in all its haunting splendor. He saw a man, a man he once knew, a man he saw murdered that very day, but then again, he was not the man he had always known, for he glowed slightly with a light not of this world, and it was this that had caused the unease amongst the Voices and driven them for a moment from the immediate vicinity.

"Can you stand?" came the familiar voice, but Kent merely buried his face again in the muddy turf. The voice came again, more insistent but also gently, as a mother caught in a tender moment with her little one, "you must stand or the fiends will soon be upon you."

"He is ours!" wailed a Voice in the night.

Came another, "you cannot steal him thus!"

With a shiver of dread, Kent flew to his feet, recovering his sword as he did so, setting himself in a defensive stance with the ghost before him, but glancing nervously off into the night whither the Voices had fled. Said he in terror, "you are dead Baye."

Baye smiled easily at him, "perhaps."

The sheer incongruity of that statement for a moment drove the fear from Kent's mind as he frowned in consternation, "what does that mean? Either you are or you aren't, you can't have it both ways!"

Baye grinned in amusement, "well then I am not dead, as you can obviously see."

Kent stared, "I watched you die!"

"Yes," said Baye, a slight smile on his face, "but it was not the first time nor will it be the last."

Kent shook his head in confusion, "how can you be so relaxed about death in general and the scandalous manner of your own in particular?"

Baye grew grave, "is that what is bothering you?"

"Bothering me!" Kent keened, "it has almost been my undoing! Do you know how the Voices have taunted and how my own uneasy heart has quailed in horror that they might be right? Everything I once believed, all that I stood for, has come to naught! To see two men I once respected meet such an end?"

Baye shook his head sadly, "I am sorry it has vexed you so, but I suppose that is part of the reason I am here." He glanced into the darkness significantly, "besides for the obvious problem of your fiendish companions of course." A mischievous look entered his eyes as his hand glowed so intensely that Kent was forced to look away or go blind, continued Baye as if nothing of interest were happening, "we'll let the perpetrator of your disquiet speak for himself."

There came a brilliant flash and when Kent could again see, Jace stood there looking rather perplexed. He flashed the smugly grinning Baye a look of surprise, quickly assessed the situation, and then turned back to Baye with an impish grin, "what are we doing out here in the dark? I thought you were trying to be more sensible on occasion."

Baye grinned all the more, "Kent here is vastly troubled by the happenings of the day so I thought it appropriate if you explain matters to his satisfaction, and this is not one of those occasions."

Jace gave him an annoyed frown, but turned troubled eyes upon the astonished Kent, "I am sorry matters have so unsettled you, but things are certainly not as they seem."

Kent gaped, "that is an understatement! You broke Oath! You murdered your friend and mentor! You were justly executed for your crimes, yet you stand here bantering as if nothing of consequence has happened! I nearly lost faith because of you."

Jace stared off into the darkness, "yes, they can have that effect on people, especially one who is afraid or uneasy in his heart. You did well to resist them." He looked soberly at Kent, "has anything ever been 'normal' in your interactions with me?"

Kent smiled in spite of himself, "I cannot say yes to that and you know it. From the moment of our first meeting, uncanniness has wrapped itself about you like a cloak!"

Jace nodded, "precisely, so it should not unsettle you much more to see the things you have seen this day." He turned amused eyes upon Baye, "Adan once saw this villain run me through the heart with his sword and then stand over my fallen form in gloating triumph, the very first day I was in his keeping in fact."

Baye said patiently, "it was not in gloating triumph, I was just happy you had finally mastered the skill I was trying to teach you; I thought you would never learn and we might be thus engaged until the end of time!"

Jace grinned impishly but sobered as he faced Kent, "as you can see, there is far more to the matter than you can as of yet ascertain, but know that I committed no true evil or rendered any permanent harm, but rather we played out this little drama at the Master's behest." He said quietly, "He said that my former self must die, and die it did, in flaming ignobility in fact and Baye was also of an age that he should no longer be walking the mortal earth as himself any longer."

Kent shook his head, "I understand none of this."

Baye grinned, "you are not supposed to, unless you want to be a part of our perplexing little conspiracy?"

Kent said with wide eyes, "I have no wish whatsoever!" He smiled apologetically at Jace, "whatever it is that you have embroiled yourself in, I have no wish to partake. I cherish order, predictability, and routine, not the chaos and disorder that seem to surround you and yours." He eyed Baye soberly, "you have my word that what I have seen shall never be broached to another." He smiled slightly he relief, "but at least you have managed to allay my worst fears and misgivings in regards to today's events; the Master is fully in control of the situation and therein I shall be content." He glanced nervously off into the darkness, "what of them?"

Jace drew his sword and said grimly, "leave them to me, but if you wish no part in this, I suggest you run as fast and as far as you can in the opposite direction, throw yourself into the deepest ditch you can find and cover your eyes."

Kent looked questioningly at Baye, who said, "this is no dream lad, the unmaking of these fiends may well loose powers no mortal flesh can withstand; you had best do as he says lest you find yourself unmade."

Kent mouthed the word 'unmade,' in astonishment, but bowed deeply to them both and then fled with all haste. Baye gave Jace, who now wore Kent's likeness, a final salute before following after the fugitive to see that he got away safely; Jace dashed into the darkness, whence the Voices had fled. They were upon him immediately, shadowy wolves with glowing eyes that stank of death and the grave. They mocked and taunted, hissed and tempted, thirsting for his blood, willing or unwilling. He said nothing but let them approach, daring them to do their worst. Sensing they could extract no more terror or despair from this particular soul and knowing it would not willingly yield itself to them, they leapt upon it as one, only too late learning their fatal error, for this was not the soul they were sent to destroy, but rather it had been sent to unmake them. As their teeth sank into the man's vulnerable flesh, an awful light was loosed, obliterating them all.

Kent ran as fast and as far as he could, running blindly in the dark, before stumbling into a gully where he collapsed in exhaustion. A moment later an awful light washed over the land, like a wave crashing upon the shore, and suddenly he knew it was over. Baye stood at the top of the gully, and seeing Kent safe, vanished into the luminous tsunami. Kent lay in the ditch, breathing hard but a relieved smile on his face. As the wan light of dawn crept into the wash where he had sheltered, Kent at last crept from his refuge and began the long walk back to Astoria, grateful for the chance to think upon all that had happened of late, but happily at peace.

Baye and Jace stood alone in the clearing once more, said Jace, "why are we having such trouble of late recruiting someone into the Shadow?"

Baye shook his head, "you were the first initiate in two hundred years, Adan and Hawk joined us soon thereafter, which is unheard of in this profession. Do not be surprised if it takes some little time to find someone else, for not all are as suited to this peculiar service as you and your companions."

Jace nodded thoughtfully, gave his friend a hearty smile, and then each vanished about whatever errands this minor adventure had interrupted. But the dell was not yet to be left to itself, for a great raven lingered in a dead oak, a shadow of evil muting the sunlight in that particular corner of creation. He challenged the open air, "it is not fair! You have so gifted your particular pets that I have no chance in opposing them! Neither can their faithfulness be shaken, for you have blessed them too abundantly! Let us see what happens when they are bereft of your favor and left to my mercies!"

A light too bright to look upon gleamed on the far side of the glade, resolving itself into a pert magpie, which was not fazed in the least by the presence of the vile raven, said He in disgust, "do as you wish, Fiend, but my servants shall find themselves blessed all the more for your meddling!" He vanished in another flash of brilliant light, but it was a softer gleam that attracted the raven's keen eye, for there in the grass something bright and metallic glinted in the sun. The stygian bird fluttered down from his perch and cocked his head in eager study of a rather plain looking dagger; he took it up in his claws with a raucous cry of exultation and vanished into the shadows of the wood.

### Legends of the Brethren: Volume II Sample Chapters:

### Once Upon an Ogre

The frost-clad birch trees sparkled in the morning sun beneath a sky of clearest blue. Mariana's horse galloped through the knee deep snow in close pursuit of her mistress while their two guards rode a respectful distance behind. The Lady Arana laughed in delight as her mare stirred up the fresh powder, nearly drunk with the beauty of the morning. Suddenly her horse reared and fought for her head and it took all of Arana's skill to stay in her saddle. The mare quieted, her concerned handmaid rode up, and the guards were not far behind. Her eyes were wide with both fright and joy as she said, "guards, you will remain here. Mariana and I will ride in pursuit of the unicorn that unsettled my horse so."

The lead guard gaped, "but your father will have our heads if he finds we did not guard you continuously my lady!"

She scoffed, "he shall have your heads all the sooner if I tell him you have been trifling with me. Do as I say or unpleasant rumors will soon reach his ears."

They exchanged a horrified look and nodded glumly as the two women turned their horses in pursuit of the vanished creature. As they pressed onwards Mariana gasped, "is it wise to try chasing down a unicorn on a horse when the creature shall certainly terrify our mounts?"

Arana wore a supercilious smile and said, "have you a better idea? We shall certainly never catch such a beast afoot." Mariana shook her head and rode on in silence. The creature had left a trail that was easily followed and Arana thought what fun it would be to catch such a creature. They were all but myth, to even see one was nearly unthinkable! They dashed on recklessly for half an hour when they topped a small rise and their horses went mad.

An ogre stood in the clearing before them in all his ugly glory. He swept Arana out of her saddle and Mariana was borne away by her panicked horse. She certainly could not attempt a rescue on her own but neither could she abandon her captured mistress. She galloped back to the place where the guards waited and told them of what had befallen their mistress. They exchanged a grim look and then laughed mirthlessly, "it is bad enough to risk our lives at her father's hands should he hear of this. We would most certainly die trying to rescue her from the ogre. We will take our chances in the wide world as must she; as of this moment we resign from his Lordship's service. Farewell." With that, they turned their mounts and galloped quickly out of sight. Mariana stared after them in stunned silence before turning her horse and returning to see if there was aught that could be done for the Lady Arana.

Her horse was exhausted by the time they reached that fateful clearing but Mariana's heart leapt for joy to find her mistress not only alive but in the company of a fox rather than a great brute of an ogre. The fox looked up in surprise at the girl's return and said, "you have come back then? I thought you were long fled in fear?"

Mariana tried to suppress her boundless curiosity and said to the impertinent creature, "I only went to fetch my lady's guards but alas, they are the ones fled in terror leaving me alone to return to my mistress' aid."

The fox seemed greatly amused, "you returned alone to face an ogre?"

The girl said simply, "there was no one else and I could not abandon her without at least trying to do something. Who are you and why do you keep my lady against her will?"

The fox laughed, "it matters not who I am but know I have the ability to take whichever form I wish, including that of an ogre or even a dragon. I have a personal errand, which needs to be accomplished and I thought your lady might aid me. Would you take her place my daring handmaid if it might spare her life?"

Mariana nodded grimly, "it would be my duty sir."

He looked to the bound Arana and asked, "what would you say to such an offer?"

Arana scoffed, "unhand me you beastly creature. I care not what your powers are, my father will not stand for this. He will hunt you down and destroy you, as he will my cowardly guards. If such an offer were made, of course the foolish girl ought to take my place as is only proper. She is only a peasant after all." T

he fox gave her an unreadable look and returned his attention to the maidservant, "and why would you trade your life for hers?"

Mariana said, "I returned intent on doing something to free my mistress even if it meant dying vainly in the process for it is far better to suffer such a fate than to try living the rest of my life knowing I might have spared her this fate and done nothing."

The fox nodded slightly, "and you my dear noblewoman? What do you say of such sympathies?"

Arana smiled condescendingly, "it is the only right way for a creature of her standing to act of course. If a life must be sacrificed, the peasant should certainly die before the lady."

An unpleasant smile crossed the fox's muzzle, "then I shall give her that chance. What say you my valiant handmaid? Will you take your lady's place? If so, dismount and stand beside your lady. She will take your horse, ride off, and not look back. You shall face whatever fate I think should befall you. Are we agreed?" Mariana nodded grimly and dismounted.

The fox freed Arana from her bonds and the arrogant girl walked proudly to the exhausted horse saying as she passed Mariana, "this is of course a regrettable situation for I shall have to find myself a new maidservant and it has ruined my morning ride. You have been an agreeable though not irreplaceable companion. I shall perhaps write a letter of condolence to your family." Without another word, she mounted the horse and rode swiftly away.

Mariana watched her go with a combination of astonishment and consternation, wondering how all her years of devoted service could mean so little. She turned her gaze once more upon the fox who said, "your mistress is certainly a cold fish, however did you come into her service?"

Mariana wondered why she was not terrified by the strange creature before her, but all she felt was a great curiosity. She said, "her father is a great lord and his men happened upon my father and I six years ago in the marketplace when I was only twelve. I was about the same age as the lady and they must have thought me an appropriate companion and servant for her ladyship, for not long after one of her father's servants arrived to collect me and ever since I have served her as handmaiden and dearest companion though it seems the latter was a misconception on my part. At least my family earned a handsome commission for my service. Now what would you have of me sir?"

The fox laughed merrily and said, "please call me Aric. As I said, I am on a special errand for my master and am in great need of your assistance. You need not come if you do not wish it but I think it will be greatly to your benefit if you do."

She laughed, "I thought I was your prisoner?"

He smiled and said, "I was only trying to see what kind of a woman your lady was and she certainly disappointed me. Will you come?"

She smiled and said, "my curiosity shall kill me if I do not."

She gasped as suddenly a great green dragon sat before her and took her gently up into his great claws saying, "forgive the uncanny mode of transportation but it is the quickest way to reach our destination."

He leapt into the air and soon they were well beyond the lands in which Mariana had spent her entire life and into country completely unknown where anything might happen. They flew on for the rest of the day and as night was falling landed in a great field well away from any place where men might frequent. The dragon set down his prize and suddenly a tall horse stood before Mariana. She smiled and crawled into the saddle at the strange creature's behest. They rode on until they reached the gates of a bustling city well after dark. The guards paid them no heed as they rode past and turned down a vacant alley.

The horse became a man clad in black and silver livery; he bowed deeply to Mariana who giggled in delight. He said, "if you shall follow me my dear and say nothing to anyone of my strange proclivities I would be most grateful." They came to the gates of a beautiful castle in the midst of the great city; the guards bowed and let the pair pass unhindered. The man asked of one of the guards, "is the Prince about?"

The guard shook his head and said, "no sir, he has gone to visit his aunt and will not be back until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest."

The man nodded saying, "very well, we shall await his return. Come my dear." He gave her into the keeping of a matronly woman saying, "the Prince shall be very eager to make her acquaintance on the morrow. Make sure she is presentable." He bowed deeply in farewell and vanished into the castle. The girl was hustled off by the servant to a much appreciated bath and supper all the while wondering if this were all some strange dream.

Aric came to fetch her in the mid-afternoon saying, "you look absolutely stunning my dear. The Prince Laver is quite eager to make your acquaintance. Do not be afraid but I doubt that shall be a problem with your courage." She blushed and he smiled warmly as he led her to the Prince's sitting room. He announced her and she bowed deeply. The Prince studied her as he might some rare and beautiful beast that might at any moment take flight in fear, never again to be glimpsed by mortal man.

He asked of Aric, "this then is the lady of whom you have spoken so highly?"

She blushed crimson as Aric said, "it is certainly she. I will withdraw and allow you to introduce yourself."

The Prince smiled warmly at his dearest friend and confidant and after the door shut quietly the Prince approached Mariana and said, "welcome to Celedon my lady, it is not often such beauty graces our courts. Tell me only your name and neither your country nor your history; we shall attend to those details at a later time."

She smiled coyly and said, "I am called Mariana my lord."

He smiled slightly and said, "please call me Laver." She blushed all the more but nodded in acceptance. He motioned for her to seat herself at a small table where tea and snacks were waiting and after she was comfortable he said, "you are probably wondering what all the fuss is about. I sent Aric on a desperate quest and I hope he has succeeded, for by my father's proclamation I must wed soon and I have found no one thus far who would make a suitable wife and Queen."

She paled and said, "me?"

He laughed warmly, "nothing is yet official but I have high hopes. Let us get to know one another and tonight you shall be my escort at the ball my father is holding in hopes of enticing me to fall in love via the fine and seductive art of dancing."

She asked, "why must you marry so swiftly?"

Laver said, "Aric has spent nearly a year in search of a suitable bride and that is the time my father has given me to find a proper wife. He wishes to pass the throne on while still healthy enough to do so and the deadline comes swiftly."

She said, "why do you not wish to know my background?"

He laughed, "I do not wish to be biased one way or another. I wish only to judge you on the person that you are, not from whence you have come. After all, what does that matter in the end? You are at least familiar with court functions and manners I hope?"

She laughed, "sadly I am well acquainted with such things."

He nodded and said seriously, "you shall desperately need them in the coming days. The single ladies of the court and their mothers are eager to see me properly married to one of their number and they will try to tear apart an outsider such as yourself, especially if it seems you have won my favor. Are you ready for such an onslaught?"

She nodded grimly, "I was ready to face an ogre a day gone, I think a few finely clad lions and wolves will be nothing compared to that. Who is Aric?"

The Prince smiled and said, "when and if we are wed, then I shall reveal his secret but until then you must be patient."

She bowed her head in agreement and they passed a lovely hour before both were called away by their respective servants to prepare for the ball. Mariana had primped and dressed her mistress countless times but it was quite a different matter having the same done for you. She sat patiently and did as she was bidden and soon was deemed ready for the evening's entertainments. A knock sounded upon the door and Aric stood without, waiting to escort her to the ball. He was resplendent in an outfit that seemed part livery and part soldier's uniform. A great smile lit his face upon sighting her, he bowed deeply, and offered her his arm. Together they made their way to the evening's extravaganza.

She whispered quietly glancing ruefully at the sword on his hip, "are you sent to protect me from the jealous ladies of the court rumored to be prowling about thirsty for blood?"

He laughed, "if only it were that easy my lady, alas you must defend yourself on that front. I hope it is only decorative but at the last end of need it shall certainly be used in defense of the Prince's life. But come, there are more subtle though no less deadly dangers that you must brave this night. I myself would prefer an honest duel to the gauntlet of social intercourse that lies before you." She gave him a nervous but determined smile and he laughed all the more. They entered the grand ballroom and were announced as 'the Lord Aric and the Lady Mariana.' She gave him a questioning look and he whispered saying, "I am no more a lord than you are a proper lady but none here shall question the title if we act the part."

She nodded in understanding and steeled herself for the coming debacle. At all previous court functions she had been nothing more than the Lady's silent companion and attendant but she had long practice in watching her mistress in the subtle and venial ways of the aristocracy in such matters and knew they could wield their tongues as a master swordsman could his blade. He walked with her across the great floor inlaid with an intricate design of many colored tiles to the small flock of courtiers awaiting the beginning of the festivities. A servant brought her a glass of some expensive wine and Aric bowed deeply as he excused himself to attend to other errands on the Prince's behalf. She smiled gratefully and prepared to be left alone, a sheep among wolves. A dozen hard faced women of middle age with arrogant eyes and fake smiles looked over the unknown and pathetically alone young woman placed before them. Mariana felt like a baitfish in the midst of a school of pike. The elder women studied her silently for a few moments and easily wrote her off as any sort of real competition to their daughters. Perhaps she was some distant relative of the Prince's and his man had escorted her in simply out of regard for her position in the family. It could not possibly be that the Prince found any interest in such a plain and vulgar sort of girl.

The smiles of the older women deepened, as if they were a flock of vultures scenting a rotten carcass. They withdrew into a close bunch and spoke in eager whispers; Mariana could not hear the words but she had no doubt as to the subject. The elder women being content with their gossip, the younger felt free to approach the strange competitor for the Prince's affections. The alpha female approached boldly and minded Mariana of a swan alighting on its own lake, certain that no lesser fowl would dare interfere with or defy the queen of the pond. A gaggle of giggling and sneering girls bedecked in gaudy gowns and adorned with far too much make-up followed close upon her heels and engulfed Mariana in a covey of whispers and silent laughter. "Who might you be?" intoned the swan in a voice so high it nearly screeched, "I am Regina, the eldest daughter of Lord Bronzewell, the greatest lord in Celedon."

Mariana bowed as deeply as the surrounding flock allowed saying, "I am Mariana of Silveria, lately of the house of Lord Gorze."

"You have a very strange way of going about an introduction," sneered the swan and the covey snickered wildly in the background like a pack of hyenas.

Mariana grinned impishly and said, "it is all I can say at the moment. Perhaps I shall tell you more one day when we know each other better."

The swan gasped, "you have quite an impudent manner about you girl. I would watch my tongue if I were you. It would not do to upset me else my father would be most displeased and perhaps worse, the wrath of the Queen of Celedon might soon come upon you."

Mariana bowed slightly and said, "I meant no harm my lady, I merely spoke the truth of the matter."

Regina sighed, "you are new to Celedon and perhaps do not know how to act properly in the company of your betters. If your visit is of any great duration I hope you soon learn some restraint. Such wild tongues are found in only the basest of the peasantry."

Mariana said, "and how stands the Prince's pursuit of a wife?"

Regina cooed, "this ball is a mere formality of course, but he must make every show of effort if only to appease the commoners. He has but two weeks left in which to announce his future bride and then the wedding and coronation will soon follow. I already have my dress prepared for that most glorious day. You are perhaps a visiting cousin come to enjoy the festivities?"

Mariana smiled and said, "something like that I suppose. The Prince has already proposed to you then?"

Regina shook her head derisively and said, "not officially but the match has been in place since the day after my birth. My father assures me that neither the King nor the Prince dare think differently but the peasants and lesser lords must be satisfied by the charade of the past year. The Prince has traveled extensively through the Kingdom interviewing every available woman from the lowest barmaid to the greatest of ladies; countless noble daughters of foreign birth have paraded through the court in the last year and perhaps you are even the least of these if you are of noble birth at all. It is vexing perhaps but it keeps the hopes of the peasants alive and peace with the surrounding nations all the same. Are you staying long then in Celedon?"

Mariana said, "I know not the length of my stay. I am only just arrived and for all of my knowledge may be off on the morrow."

Regina smiled coldly and said, "that would be considered wisdom on your part."

Mariana said, "can the Prince find none to please him in all the country and even among the daughters of other nations? What of these your followers?"

A wild look entered her eyes like that of a she wolf scenting some intruder upon her territory and Regina said coldly, "none of these flitting sparrows has any trait half as pleasing as the least of mine nor would they threaten their own privileged positions by such an intrusion; as I said, it is mere show that the Prince seeks elsewhere for affection when my own is certainly his."

Mariana nodded and said, "I meant no disrespect I was only trying to gauge the situation. Who is this Lord Aric?"

Regina laughed superfluously and said, "you should know more of him than I, after all it was upon his arm that you entered the room and he who escorted you to Celedon."

Mariana laughed, "I know little of him save that he seems the Prince's dearest friend and most faithful servant."

Regina yawned expansively and fanned herself with the appropriate instrument saying, "I forget where he comes from, some little land that no one had ever heard of I suppose. He has been the Prince's companion and right hand man since they were little more than boys. They are often about the country together or the man is ever off on some errand for his Majesty the Prince. Why did he escort you in?"

Mariana shrugged, "otherwise I would have been alone in a strange country."

Regina laughed haughtily, "it is presumptuous to come begging in a place where one is not known nor expected."

Mariana smiled slightly and said, "I suppose you must be right." Their conversation was cut short by the announcement that the Prince himself had come and Regina and all her retinue began cheering and clapping and nearly fainting with exhilaration. The excitement died down, some minor announcements were made, and then the dance began in earnest.

The Prince made his round of all the nobles and gave his greetings and appreciation for their presence before he sought out Regina for the first dance. He then studiously made his way through each of the girls in her retinue before finally, halfway through the evening he finally approached Mariana who shyly took his hand as he led her to the floor. "You keep trying to lead," laughed the Prince as she stumbled in her steps.

She smiled and said, "forgive me Highness but I have ever had to play the part of the gentleman that another lady might practice. I have never formally danced myself."

He gave her a teasing grin and said, "then I will try my best to accommodate you but we both cannot lead." Their dance was perhaps the clumsiest of the evening but the one he enjoyed the most. Regina and her squadron enjoyed it immensely for completely different reasons. The Prince then cordially danced with each of the young ladies present before he asked again to dance with any of his previous partners. Once he had made his round of all the young women, he then took Mariana again to the floor much to Regina's frustration but she was the next he stepped out with. She seemed a little pacified but her feathers were quite ruffled by the snub as she saw it. She tried to calm herself by saying it was merely the Prince being polite to his awkward young cousin, but her glares in Mariana's direction lost little of their heat. Every young person present saw Regina's great dislike for the handsome young stranger and all kept well away lest they also should garner her antipathy thus Mariana spent much of the evening standing awkwardly off to one side all by herself.

After half an hour of solitude in the midst of the great throng, someone finally took pity on the poor girl and engaged her in conversation. "Welcome to Celedon," said the stranger politely, "I am sorry the hospitality of the court is quite lacking and perhaps my presence will only make it worse." He wore an amused smile and she immediately felt towards him as she might towards a favorite uncle. The man was in his middle years and though not handsome, the humor and wisdom in his eyes leant much to his appearance. She recognized the uniform as that of the Brethren, having seen the Brethren's Advisor to the King of Silveria on her frequent visits to court accompanying the Lady Arana. She had never spoken with the man, being only a servant and he an Advisor to the King, but he had gained her respect nonetheless and his counterpart in Celedon seemed no less likely to do the same.

Mariana smiled gratefully and said, "it has been a lonely evening. I have angered the queen bee and the hive dares not cross her. She is quite possessive of one not yet her own."

The man smiled, "you have assessed the situation perfectly my lady though you are quite new to Celedon. Her father is the most powerful man in Celedon save the King himself, and he is quite eager to have the Prince as a son-in-law and his daughter a Queen. The King would find the union most expedient but has graciously allowed the boy to choose his own bride but has given him only a year in which to do so else the King shall choose for him. I do not envy the boy his place. If he weds Regina I fear his father-in-law and wife shall make his life miserable but if he refuses and weds someone else, he will have earned himself a terrible enemy. Either way, his reign will not begin as easily as his father might hope."

Mariana sighed, "is there naught that can be done?"

The man smiled, "the Prince is not completely alone. Lord Bronzewell is powerful but the lesser lords tend to flock together in opposition and are able to balance his stubbornness. Lord Aric is as faithful and skilled a man as anyone could wish to have at one's side. The Brethren shall certainly stand behind a King who shall be as just and wise as the Prince seems likely to be. I only pray that he chooses a good woman to rule beside him who lacks neither sense nor courage for he certainly shall need both in the natal days of his reign."

Mariana smiled deeply, "you seem quite fond of the Prince."

The man shared her smile saying, "I was Advisor to the King when Laver's father was a boy. I have watched both grow into fine men, strong but gentle, wise and merciful. How did you become embroiled in such schemes?"

She laughed, "it is a short but strange tale. One moment I was chasing after my lady in the woods of Silveria, for I was but a handmaiden to a noble's daughter only a few days gone, and the next I was off to Celedon and find myself here at the Prince's bidding."

A slight, knowing smile touched the man's lips as he spoke nonchalantly, "I had thought the Prince seemed to be enjoying his dance with you a bit more than with any of the others with whom he has graced the floor though your steps were far from perfect." She blushed crimson at his mention of her faulty footwork or perhaps he had hit the mark where the Prince was involved. He laughed, "fear not lady, for it is not your skill at dancing that shall win the boy's heart if such be the case. You would make a far better Queen than others I can think of, but we must part company for your suitor calls again." She blushed crimson once more but could not help but smile in delight as the Prince once again sought her hand.

As they whirled about the floor the Prince remarked, "I see you have met Garon, he is an honorable man and my father's favorite Advisor though many in the court think he listens too closely to his advice."

She laughed, "and what is your opinion of the matter."

He smiled, "I wish all my future advisors were more like him. His advice is not always pleasant to listen to but it is always wise and often necessary. He is never obsequious nor rude and always tells the absolute truth about everything even if it is to his own disadvantage."

She smiled deeply and her eyes twinkled with joy, "then I think he will find his future King an excellent lord to advise."

He said nothing but his own smile deepened. He left her then as the dance ended and took a younger daughter of an obscure lord to the floor much to Regina's chagrin Ill at ease and frustrated, she and her retinue again surrounded the hapless Mariana and Regina scoffed, "becoming a favorite of the Prince I see. I would refuse him should he ask you to dance again. His ruse of pandering to the hopes of the commoners has gone too far and I shall certainly apprise him of his error when next we dance. I see you also keep company with that fool from Astoria, which does nothing but deepen the social grave you have already begun. Heed well my words or your future in Celedon shall be short and miserable."

Mariana said firmly, "I shall dance with whom I please and keep company with those whom I choose. As all others seemed indifferent, I was happy to share a few moments of idle conversation with such a learned man. Do not threaten me for I have nothing to fear from the likes of you."

Regina smiled viciously and said, "we shall certainly see." She and her flock swept gracefully away like birds blown with the wind.

The Lord Aric was then at her elbow and said, "I shall escort you from the ball if you would wish it." Mariana gave him a grateful smile and would have hugged him had it been appropriate. They left then and ere he left her in her chambers he said grimly, "Regina will have the throne no matter what. I fear you have garnered her enmity and she will not rest until she is assured of the crown. She may use means less than scrupulous to ensure her favor with the Prince. Be cautious in the coming days for your very life may depend upon it."

She nodded in agreement and bid him goodnight as he disappeared down the corridor leaving her to wonder what exactly it was he feared. She had witnessed much venom between warring factions at court but never had she considered that some might sink to murder and treason to accomplish their goals but then her mistress was the daughter of a relatively minor country lord and not one high in the circles of power, rich though he was. The higher the circles in which one was wont to be found, the greater the power to be lost or won thus the more desperate the means to gain or keep it. An unconscious shudder ran down her spine to find herself in so precarious a position, but the Prince needed her and not that long ago she had been willing to face down an ogre barehanded. What was this to that? She laughed, the ogre would at least offer a fair fight; with this enemy none could tell how she might wage her vicious war.

After the ball, in the small hours of the morning, the King called his son to his chambers for a private talk. The King sighed, "you have earned the wroth of the entire Bronzewell clan this night my son. I promised you the chance to choose your own bride and you know well the price you might pay should you choose other than the Lady Regina."

Laver laughed, "there is also a grim price should I choose that lady as my bride as well. I would rather face the wrath of the entire clan than unite my soul with such as she."

The King asked curiously, "you have then another lady in mind?"

The Prince smiled with his whole heart plain upon his face, "you perhaps noticed the worst dancer amongst my many partners?"

The King smiled, "quite a fetching creature if not quite so refined a dancer. Who is she?"

The Prince smiled, "I know only her name and asked that she not tell me her history that it might not mar my judgment. I will continue in the gauntlet of festivities you have planned in the next fortnight but I doubt I shall change my mind."

The King shook his head, "I would not show too much interest in the girl lest you draw ill-luck upon her ere you are wed." T

he Prince's face turned grim as he thought what might befall her at the hands of a jealous rival. He said, "Aric shall guard her well."

The King said, "I hope you know what you are doing but you have my full support whomever you choose."

Regina retired to her chambers and her retinue cowered against the far wall as she paced obsessively back and forth and muttered harshly to herself. What was she to do with the little usurper? The wench might yet ruin everything! Men were such fickle creatures at times. Just wait until she had him well in hand and he would never dare defy her again. But what to do about the fiendish little imp? Perhaps she could be threatened or frightened into flight and failing that she could always be made to quietly disappear. Her father had resources that could see to either situation. She smiled viciously, the next few weeks might prove to be far more interesting than she had at first dreamed. Her ladies laughed nervously for they knew well that that particular smile did not portend well for the one who inspired it. Regina shouted for pen and paper and sat down immediately to write the needed directives. She smiled terribly, the next few weeks would be quite amusing indeed!

Mariana woke the next morning to find that a lovely letter had been slipped under her door. It was from Regina and it graciously requested her presence at tea that afternoon. Mariana shook her head wondering what the jealous schemer was up to. She prepared for the day and after a light breakfast in her rooms, she made her way down to the gardens where she might walk and think in peace. It was a pleasant morning and the castle seemed quite abandoned, after the late night endured by many of its residents, it was no surprise that many were still abed. She found the solitude delightful after the lonely and distant though cloying crowd of the night before. A red breasted thrush singing in a berry bush drew her gaze and it took her a moment to realize he was trying to catch her eye. Once he had her attention he whispered in the familiar voice of Aric, "be wary, for the Lady Regina was up late last night and sent many letters which I doubt not contain instructions for various schemes against yourself. Be on your guard and also do not be surprised if the Prince pays you little heed in the coming days for he wishes no harm to come to you."

She nodded grimly and asked, "then what should I do?"

He said, "be very careful, especially in going anywhere alone or in company only with Regina and her ladies."

Mariana grinned, "I am invited to tea this afternoon."

The bird seemed to smile, "you must not refuse her but go not alone."

Mariana laughed, "I know just who to invite." He resumed his song and she continued on her way as if nothing more of interest had passed than a quick study of a common garden bird. She walked a while longer in the gardens and then sought out Garon.

She found him in the stables tending to a rather plain looking horse. He smiled as she entered and said, "this is certainly a strange place to find a lady."

She laughed, "and who is to say that I am a lady? I have been invited to tea with the Lady Regina and do not wish to go alone."

He laughed, "I would love to attend you but I fear my presence would be rather awkward. You are wise to take such a precaution, however. I shall certainly come though the entire castle think it odd."

She grinned from ear to ear and actually began to look forward to the whole tedious affair. They arrived promptly on time and Regina was quite hard pressed to maintain a pleasant countenance when she saw her guest's guest. Regina smiled grimly saying, "this is quite an unexpected surprise. I was certain it would be a ladies only affair but I am sure your escort is quite welcome as well. Please come in." The hour passed rather tediously as Regina dared not threaten the little usurper or try worse with such a witness. They politely excused themselves and the ladies drew a great sigh of relief and began to plot anew.

As they walked companionably down the corridor Garon said, "they were quite put out by my presence. I think you are wise to be cautious. I will do what I can to aid you in this awkward and dangerous time, if you need help all you need do is ask." He bowed deeply and vanished down a side corridor. She shuddered to think what the girl could be capable of that everyone seemed intent on warning her this day. She went to the library and tried to read for the rest of the day but her mind was too busy to concentrate on her book.

Regina wrote several threatening letters all promising terrible things should the girl not withdraw immediately from Celedon, but each time she received no reply and the impertinent girl seemed unaffected by the whole scheme. She could not get the girl alone to threaten personally nor would written threats avail her. The one bright spot was that at least the Prince seldom even looked in the creature's direction and he spent much more time in Regina's company. Was he coming to his senses or was he surreptitiously protecting the wench? The days would have been quite lonely save that Aric and Garon seemed to turn up quite frequently to keep company with Mariana for a few hours which were the only bright points in the days that followed though they were full of feasting, dancing, various contests, and endless festivities that the Prince might find himself a suitable bride amongst the many eligible guests.

Aric quite often appeared in other than human guise, sometimes as a lizard upon the wall or perhaps as a dog before the fire in the library. It seemed he was never far off and if he was not in sight, Garon seemed to be within an easy distance. As the days passed, Regina felt the Prince was not being as genuine towards her as she thought he must be if he were truly courting her and his frequent, furtive glances in the direction of that wretched stranger certainly gave away the ruse. The day was fast approaching when he would make his announcement and Regina was becoming quite certain that the fortunate lady would not be herself. Something must certainly be done to prevent such a tragedy. One night she garbed herself and two faithful guards as peasants and snuck from the castle in high hopes of ending the little competition once and for all.

The days passed slowly for Mariana and she might have thought the Prince had lost all regard for her save for Aric's continual presence and the quick, hopeful glances he occasionally cast her way. She might have lost her wariness regarding Regina also had she not ever seen the growing vitriol in the woman's eyes. Things must soon come to a head or Regina might soon burst asunder in frustration. But the days passed and nothing seemed to happen. The threatening letters ceased and the girl virtually ignored Mariana. Finally the morning of the annunciation day arrived and Mariana hoped fervently that come evening she would be free of this wretched limbo one way or another. Regina also looked forward to this evening for the Prince would be hers one way or another. Should he choose correctly the little minx had nothing to worry about should she leave Celedon immediately in shame, but should he choose poorly her very life would be forfeit and she would gain the Prince by default. She had made certain arrangements with certain people of an evil and sneaky tendency that would ensure things would go her way one way or another. She had not overlooked the constant watchfulness of both Aric and Garon, and both might well suffer the same fate as that wretched girl.

The day drug on as the fateful night made its weary way to fulfillment. Finally all gathered in the castle's great courtyard under the first stars of evening to hear what the Prince had to say upon this great and momentous occasion. The people loved their King and also admired his son. Many dreaded his choice of bride but no few girls were desperate with curiosity to know if they might not be the One. The eligible young ladies formed a line facing the eager audience and the Prince paced before them, occasionally exchanging a word with one of their number who would then smile sadly and quietly withdraw or sometimes ran weeping from the stage. Finally only two remained: Mariana and Regina. The audience waited in epic silence as the Prince made his final choice. He approached Mariana and Regina smiled triumphantly but her exultation turned to rage as he took Mariana's hand in his and smiled gently. The temerity of the man! But his foolishness would not last. She raised her eyes, met the gaze of several plainly clad men set well back among the watching crowd, and nodded grimly. They drew bows from beneath their voluminous cloaks and before anyone noticed, they had loosed several arrows felling not only Mariana but also Garon and Aric.

The Prince had his sword out and stood grimly over the struggling form of his would-be bride as she fought for each breath; the guards were trying to wade through the panic stricken crowd to reach the assassins but were making little progress. Regina's eyes gleamed in dark glee as she saw her dreams coming true. A great thrashing nose and an equine scream of rage came from the stable as a plain looking gelding broke out of his stall and forced his way to the side of his stricken master. Garon clutched weakly at the arrow planted firmly in his chest and shooed away the desperate attentions of the frantic unicorn saying, "forget me you great hearted beast! See to the girl, the entire future of Celedon rests upon her shoulders. Hers is the life you must spare!" The creature whinnied pathetically but hurried to the side of the stricken woman. He nuzzled her gently, his knees buckled, and he vanished before he hit the ground.

Mariana put a hand weakly to her head and exchanged a horrified and astonished look with the Prince who yet stood protectively over her. Regina watched the noble beast give his life for that of the dying girl and something snapped within her. Her assassins were now either fled or captured by the guards and she alone remained to exact revenge for her ruined aspirations. If she could not have the Prince, no one would. She drew a dagger from a hidden pocket and leapt upon the Prince who was still mesmerized by the sudden healing of his beloved. Aric had taken an arrow in the shoulder and though wounded, he was not about to abandon his friend to the unseen wrath of Regina. He leapt between the lioness and her prey and they grappled for control of the knife. Regina gained full control of the blade long enough to slash her opponent across the face but in so doing he moved his arm to block the blow and she stabbed herself in the palm. She laughed and cried as she saw both her final triumph and her imminent doom. The blade was poisoned and the least injury would soon prove fatal. Aric already lay unmoving and his breathing slowed and ultimately stopped as the Prince and Mariana looked on in horror. Regina stared triumphantly at the corpse for a moment, glared upon the Prince and Mariana, and then toppled over herself with blankly staring eyes.

Mariana's eyes were clouded with tears as she crawled to the side of Garon who lay nearly as still as Aric. "What happened?" gasped she, "why am I still alive?"

Garon smiled through the pain and said, "a unicorn's greatest gift my dear. Your life is far more dear to the future of Celedon than my own. May the Master ride with you..." He trailed off and said no more. Mariana turned away and the tears overflowed from her eyes and Laver's gentle arms were there to comfort her. He wept as much as she for the loss of such dear and noble friends.

The country was in uproar at the near disaster but quite pleased with their future Queen. Lord Bronzewell was so embarrassed by the antics of his daughter that he could do nothing but retire to his country estates and promote his son to his place which greatly eased the transition of the Kingship as the boy was far less proud and demanding than his father. Mariana and Laver were soon married and the coronation followed immediately after. A new Advisor to the King was sent from Astoria and he was eagerly welcomed by one and all, especially after the tale of Garon's sacrifice on behalf of their beloved Queen. Long did Laver rule his people justly and wisely with his Queen ever at his side. He told her what he could of Aric's mysterious ways though even he knew little enough of them. They had first met when the young Laver paid a visit to his father's hawks. His most valuable specimen was a rare creature found only in the far north and only a fledgling. The talkative boy soon gained the attention of the young bird and they chattered endlessly back and forth. The bird soon came to realize it was a thinking creature and not simply a bird and soon the boy discovered this as well. The bird might have forever remained naught but a bird had not the boy awakened the wiser part of its mind.

A friendship soon developed and the bird soon learned he also had the strange talent of shifting forms. Ever grateful, the bird swore his life to protect that of the boy. To all others he was but a bird, but to the boy he was his dearest friend. One day, when the hawk was old enough to fly, he escaped upon a hunting trip. Not long after, Lord Aric arrived and soon gained the friendship of the young prince. After, the two were rarely seen apart. Laver urged his friend to return north to his people but Aric refused, saying he knew nothing of his own people and was honor bound to remain with his friend. So it was that Laver trusted no one else with the business of finding him a suitable wife at which quest he succeeded handsomely much to the unending joy of Laver, Mariana, and all of Celedon.

### Paradise of the Lost

The water lapped ever at the foot as if it had been there always and would so remain, heedless of the fact that its owner would soon have need of it. The man raised his head and looked about him in astonishment, yet ignorant of the water playfully assaulting his left foot, for even to be breathing he thought was truly a miracle after the night they had endured. They had set out what seemed years ago, he the only passenger, the rest a merchant and his crew. All had been well until they met the storm, which was bad enough, but its winds drove them mercilessly into great rocks that gaped like fangs from the mouth of the sea. The ship had cracked in the middle as if she were an egg and every soul aboard was thrown into the sea, clinging helplessly to whatever wreckage of the ship came easily to hand. The storm raged on, heedless of the dire fate of the men in her bitter grasp, until at last her wrath was spent and she sputtered out and allowed the sun to grace the sky. As if in merciful repentance, those awful winds that had been the ruin of the ship saved the lives of those that managed to cling to its wreckage for she drove them to this strange and wonderful shore. Trian was not the only survivor, for five more of the crew, were gazing with equal trepidation and wonder and horror upon this foreign beach but it seemed the rest had been lost to the fathomless deep. Finally, noticing his yet soggy foot, Trian shifted with hopes of standing but froze in disbelief as a spear point appeared just inches from his nose. To survive such a wreck and to be washed ashore like so much debris only to be assaulted by hostile natives just seemed too much to endure in one day but that did not make it any less true.

He froze and looked to the wielder of the offensive weapon and stared into dark eyes as pitiless and devoid of joy as any raven's. He then glanced to his fellows and saw them equally surrounded. There were at least a dozen armed men on the beach, each armed with spear, sword, and dagger. The rest of the captives stared in amazement wondering if it were but a hallucination after such a night's terror but all seemed to be equally surprised so it must be no dream. The stony men held their captives at weapon point until a very elegant woman stepped over the rise of the hill above them and all the soldiers bowed in greatest reverence but did not loosen their grip upon their weapons.

She glanced around in amused delight at the castaways and spoke in a voice that rang and carried like a pleasant bell, "welcome worthy strangers to this distant shore. Whatever your past life has been, forget it, for it is no more. Many are washed ashore upon this isle but none have ever left nor been rescued. This is a pleasant land and ever shall it now be your home. I call you worthy because none unworthy ever reaches this place, they vanish to the whims of the sea and are heard from no more for the Sea God allows none to come hither who are not worthy in his eyes. You now have a choice before you. That the Sea God has found you worthy of life is obvious but how shall you spend that life? You shall either bow willingly before the altar of the Sea God or die upon it. If you choose to bow before him then you shall join our society and live out your days in peace and prosperity, else you shall be returned to him that brought you safely here. Who will bow before him and live?"

Trian listened with wonder to this strange vision before him and vaguely mused about who or what this Sea God of hers might be. He felt a spear butt driven ungently into his side and it brought him immediately back to the choice before him. The sailors had prostrated themselves on the sand before the bewitching woman but Trian struggled to his feet for there could be but one choice as far as he was concerned. The man with the spear let him rise but wore an incredulous and viciously amused smile, as if he were a halfwit walking unknowingly into disaster. The Priestess spoke gently to the prostate sailors but managed a half-veiled glare at the insolent fool who dared to stand in her presence. She said, "you have chosen wisely and as such, we shall welcome you among us as brothers! See to their comfort." At her words, all but two of the guards bowed and motioned for the terrified men to rise and follow after. The sailors did as they were instructed and cast several surprised and reproachful glances in the direction of the standing Trian; one went so far as to laugh scornfully at the determined fool who valued his faith more than his life. Once the sailors and guards were out of sight, the Priestess turned her attention to the insolent castaway saying, "even now I give you another chance at life. I did not speak in jest. Bow before the Sea God and save your life."

Trian shook his head sadly and said, "lady I cannot do as you bid for I will not sacrifice my soul to save my life."

She smiled sadly, "then perhaps you sacrifice your life and shall also lose your soul. Take him away for such is his decision."

She turned suddenly and walked away without a backwards glance and the two remaining guards herded him roughly up the hill towards a great marble building that seemed to perch upon the highest point of the island. The vegetation was thick, colorful, and well tended about the place and the stone flagged paths were immaculately clean. A great arch like an insatiable mouth gaped in the front of the building but they turned off upon a side path and entered a well made but unobtrusive door off to the right. They passed through several courtyards and passageways, each more beautiful than the last, and finally came to a little courtyard where several young men and women waited patiently and upon sighting the guards and their prisoner, jumped to their feet and rushed to take possession of the man. He was stripped of his ruined garments, scrubbed clean, and his beard and head shaved to baldness before being fitted with a loose and airy robe similar in style to that worn by all upon this strange shore though his was of pure white whereas theirs were of varying color and pattern. Finally he was escorted into a walled garden whose only apparent door was opened with an ornate key and then it was locked behind him.

Trian stared about in wonder and dismay, wondering what his future held; if it were bleak, at least his immediate accommodations did not seem all that oppressive. He found himself in a flagged courtyard with great trees growing up out of well tended beds of the most wonderful flowers and at the back stood a dome upheld by marble pillars with various furnishings beneath its shade for sitting, resting, and dreaming. If it were not so strange it might perhaps have been quite pleasant, but there was a distinct chill in the air that was only felt with the spirit, but was no less pervasive than if an arctic breeze had gusted through this tropical day.

As Trian was gazing about him, another figure made himself known. A man in his middle years with a lopsided grin and an obvious limp rose from a seat beneath the dome and made his way towards the newcomer. "Welcome to the last days of your life my friend," laughed the stranger grimly, "at least they shall be pleasant ones. Come sit in the shade, refresh yourself, and we may talk at leisure." Trian could only nod and follow this strange apparition to the dome and take the crystal goblet of water the man offered as he then motioned for him to sit upon a marble bench where the man seated himself across from his fellow prisoner. Laughed the stranger, "this is perhaps the strangest day of your life I am sure and you are not yet quite believing it I think. You felt yourself lucky to have survived the wreck of your ship only to find your salvation turned to despair as you find yourself here on a brief sojourn before ultimate death."

Trian raised his eyebrows at the stranger's knowledge of his day and the man laughed, "I am no seer but simply know the tale of all those doomed souls who pass through that accursed door. Such was my own tale. I am called Irwin and who are you and what made you mad enough to not bow before their wretched Sea God?"

Trian said, "I am called Trian and am one of the Brethren and therefore not easily swayed into changing my allegiance, even at the cost of my life."

Irwin laughed, "a man of principle at least, if as misguided as each of these fools about their supposed deity. I myself go in for none of that superstitious nonsense but am an avowed skeptic and unbeliever."

It was Trian's turn to smile, "if you have no hard held beliefs why not bow before their seeming god to save your life?"

Laughed Irwin, "my unbeliefs are as hard held as your own faith sir and I would no more bow before their fictitious god than I would before your so-called Master. I will not deign to bow before anyone's god simply to save my life. I may be an unbeliever of the basest sort but I do have my dignity."

Trian smiled, "your faith would shame many who claim to trust in the Master my friend. So what exactly is this place, what fate awaits us, and how long have you been held here?"

Irwin smiled, "I have been here nearly five years and have seen over a hundred men pass through the outer door and then out again, never to be seen again among living men. They have a ritual sacrifice upon certain holy days and whenever their society has a great need, crisis, or important decision before it. I have so far been spared such treatment because of my limp; I am seen as something like damaged goods. They will one day get around to using me but thus far there has ever been a 'more proper' victim as it were. Many are washed upon these accursed shores and enough of them have principle enough to end here where we await our own turn upon the altar. By my count, had you not come, I would have met my own end in five days but your miraculous timing has again spared my life. It is not such a bad life as it were, save a bit tedious when there is no one of interest to speak with for they provide us with the best of their food and wine. We are seen as both holy and heretics as it were. Men set apart by their god for his own bloody appetite yet completely outside their religion."

Trian nodded taking in all the man said then asked, "what kind of end do we face?"

Irwin rose and led him to one of the garden walls, which abutted the main bulk of the building and through several fist sized holes they could gaze into the heart of the temple. It was all of white marble and every surface shone like new fallen snow in the sun. A large open space took up the majority of the room but at the front stood a raised dais upon which stood a curiously slanting altar at whose lowest end stood a basin. Irwin spoke with quiet disgust, "at least it is a quick end. They cut off your head and collect your blood in that basin. I have not had the heart or stomach to watch much beyond that. I think it involves some sort of hallucinogenic drug imbibed by most of the worshippers, much beating of the drum and whining of the pipe, and what comes after I do not know nor do I ever wish to."

Trian shivered at the thought and followed Irwin back to their seats. Irwin smiled mockingly, "how will your precious Master feel to have you die upon the altar of a false god?"

Trian smiled thoughtfully, "my life has ever been in his keeping and if this is the fate that awaits me then I am content in my end. It is certainly a stranger end than I had ever dreamt of but certainly there is a purpose in it even if I am not wise enough to understand what that may be. Are we ever allowed out of this genial prison?"

Irwin laughed, "I suppose the Priestess might allow you to wander about the city on your last day if that is your request though an odder way to spend my last hours I cannot imagine. She always grants a last request within reason."

"Why such a skeptic?" asked Trian.

Irwin smiled, "you will not be able to convert me I think. Many have tried but they have all vanished from the face of the earth while yet I remain. I do not believe because I do not wish to. I am content within myself and with the world as I find it and once I have passed from it, it will not matter any longer whatever I had thought or said or done. You cannot convince me that there is any such thing as a soul. Your Master is as real to me as their Sea God. How can you believe? Especially after all you have endured only to end this way!"

Trian smiled in return, "I believe because I have felt and seen the Master at work in all creation and within the lives of men. The world cannot be explained otherwise, but I find it precisely as it must be if the Truth were true. I do not fear death because it is a door we all must pass and I know something better and more wondrous than any man can know awaits upon its further side for those who trust the Master."

Irwin wore an irksome grin, "and what of heretics like myself and heathens like our captors?"

Trian said grimly, "you prefer a life without the Master and so shall your eternity be."

Irwin scowled, "I do not want eternity but even if it must be endured it is well that it is without the presence of such a creature."

Trian said, "everything good and right and beautiful comes from the Master, without Him all that remains is everything terrible and Nothing."

Irwin laughed harshly, "fairy tales all but believe if it gives you hope for there is little enough to be found in the reality of this place. Come let us speak of other things for you Brethren are learned in other areas of lore besides theology and I am in great need of a good conversation."

So passed three days in idle conversation and quiet thought. Each morning they were scrubbed and shaved clean by the acolytes of the temple and fed the most exquisite food imaginable. They became good friends even with their disagreement over all things spiritual but it was an amiable disagreement and one often teased the other on their lack of faith or reason. Irwin felt he would be quite sad to see this man go but he had seen enough others go likewise that he knew his sorrow would pass swiftly. He wondered if another boatload of victims might arrive soon, they had been somewhat slim of late, or he would soon follow Trian into oblivion.

On the fourth day the Priestess appeared to speak one last time with their newest victim. Irwin limped away and left the two alone under the dome as she said, "even now will you repent? You can spare yourself death and worse, unending shame, if you will but bow before the Sea God."

Trian shook his head firmly, "would that I could lady but I cannot and you must deal with me as you must. I have but one Master and him only shall I serve, in life or death."

She smiled sadly, "were it otherwise I think you would have made an admirable addition to our society, perhaps you could even become my consort or a priest of the temple. Can you not abandon your pride and simply bow before the God of the Sea? You need not truly believe, just obey."

Trian raised his eyebrows, "are you saying that even you do not believe in this god of yours?"

She laughed derisively, "those of us in true power know that there is no Sea God but the terror and the myth keep the lesser folk in line! Your death will be meaningless save as a means to cow and terrorize lesser men. Can you still not see?"

Trian smiled sadly, "even more so I must say I serve but one Master and that I truly believe. I will not lie to save my life any more than I shall bow before an idol to do likewise."

She smiled sadly, "it seems all men of integrity and principle die upon the altar and leave only superstition and terror and ignorance to rule the people rather than honor and justice. Alas that it should be so but it must for so we have begun."

Trian asked, "could you not begin anew?"

She laughed derisively, "the leaders of this society do not believe but the common folk are quite fervent in their beliefs and any rebuttal will only result in rebellion and our own blood on the altar. We love our positions and our lives too much for that."

Trian sighed, "is your own soul not worth something to you?"

She laughed scornfully, "I believe no more in the Master than in the Sea God. Enough of this. As you refuse to see reason and shall die tonight I shall grant you one last request if such is reasonable and your desire."

He said, "I would like to see this city of yours, if only for curiosity's sake."

She shook her head in amusement, "ever the curious one, even on the brink of death. Very well. A guard shall escort you but you shall speak to no one for no one shall listen should you try to speak. The living do not hear the dead."

She summoned an acolyte who ran for a guard and after a surprising conversation, the man bowed and led Trian out into the city. There were many strange looks as they wandered about but it was an abbreviated tour for there was not much to see as it was a relatively small community and none would speak to such a personage. Everything was neat and orderly and pleasing to the eye and there seemed an abundance of every type of thing one could want on such an island. But the people were not of a friendly cast to the prisoner or to one another. All had suspicious and mean faces and ever seemed to be calculating how to benefit at another's expense. Trian was relieved when the guard led him back to the little garden where at least there seemed to be some semblance of peace, if only the peace before a hopeless battle or the calm before the storm.

Irwin met him curiously upon his return and Trian told of his observations. Then there was an awkward sort of silence as Irwin said, "they will be coming for you soon. For tonight is the appointed night. Even now are you not in the least bit repentant or ready to doubt what you have always believed? For what sort of Being can demand such sacrifice of his servants?"

Trian smiled sadly, "he demands no more than he was willing to face himself. What is death to a mortal such as myself when the Author of all life was willing to taste of death that I might know life indeed? I only hope you can find such peace ere the end." The door opened beside them and two guards entered.

Irwin said, "then may your Master's peace be with you in this end that you have chosen."

Trian smiled, "farewell and I hope this is not an eternal goodbye."

Irwin scowled good-naturedly, "think such if it brings you peace!" And then the guards led him away and the door shut loudly behind them, leaving Irwin alone in the gathering dusk with his uneasy heart. The courtyard had never before seemed so dark and lonely as it did at that moment.

Trian was scrubbed and shaved once more and this time some horribly fragrant ointment was applied liberally to his entire being. He was given a clean, robe-like garment and then he was made to wait patiently until called for. He could hear the drum and the pipe commencing in some wild tune in a distant part of the temple and knew his time upon the earth could not be long. And it was not. The guards returned and the acolytes rose to follow as the prisoner was led forth. They entered the main chamber, which was cast into darkness save for a few torches upon the far walls. The moon was full overhead and a pungent odor filled the air. The room was filled with kneeling people save for the dais at the front and a small aisle down the middle leading to it. The music became even more bizarre and wild as the victim was brought forth. The eyes of the crowd were filled with malicious joy and were dilated and nearly rolling with wild ecstasy, likely the result of some drug.

Trian was marched to the front and secured to the altar with his head unsupported over the empty basin. The Priestess stood forth and began to chant something quite unintelligible as the music reached its crescendo; a man robed all in white with a great sword appeared and raised his weapon over the victim's neck and the music throbbed with unbearable intensity. Irwin turned his eyes away for he could not bear to watch any longer. There came the anticipated sound of the sword finding its mark and then the music changed to something triumphant and dark. Irwin was surprised to find himself weeping though he had watched such happen over and over again it had never before touched his heart.

The ceremony would go on for hours yet and what terrible rites it would yet involve, Irwin did not dare to imagine. But the music and sounds were eerie enough to chill his blood. Then he saw something that both chilled his blood and sent a thrill of hope coursing through his being. Trian stood there in the moonlight, whole and seemingly very much alive and clad as he might have been the fateful day he took ship with a sword at his side, decent clothes, and a full head of hair, complete with beard. Irwin gasped, "is this some delusion or trick or am I living in a ghost story?"

Trian laughed in the familiar way and said, "I am no fell specter but quite myself though quite beyond mortal suffering. I am no delusion but quite real."

Irwin stood and frowned at the apparition, "if you are dead what are you doing here? I thought your folk did not believe in wandering spirits?"

Trian grinned, "and who says I wander? I am sent as a messenger."

"A messenger?" gasped Irwin, "to whom?"

Trian smiled, "to you of course."

Irwin sat down, "but I want no message from beyond! I do not believe in anything beyond this mortal sphere!"

Trian shook his head, "heed well my words for the Master does not send such tidings lightly and your own doom will soon be upon you."

Irwin was aghast, "you came back from the grave to tell me I was going to die? I knew that the minute they locked me in this accursed garden!"

Trian continued patiently, "that is not my message. The Master asks you to submit yourself to him and carry a message to these wayward and murderous folk."

"Me!?" gasped Irwin, "why could you not have spoken such a thing during your brief sojourn among them?"

Trian said, "they know you and might listen to your words. I was simply an ignorant fool and a heretic."

Irwin sighed, "but they may well kill me for my temerity!"

Trian said, "regardless, they will kill you in twenty days as you have seen so many others die before you, for there shall be no new victims washed upon their shores and the sea will give them dire warnings they cannot ignore; they will demand mercy and answers from their god via your blood."

Irwin said, "and what if I refuse your Master's request?"

Trian said, "these people have one last chance to turn from their evil and seek the Master or his doom shall come upon them. If you refuse, your soul shall be as lost as ever but they shall have no chance at hearing this last warning and you shall spend all eternity mulling over the fact that you were partially responsible for their fate."

Irwin gaped, "but they have brought this upon themselves! What part have I in their doom?"

Trian said, "the Master asks certain things of each of us in our brief lives, but he has asked you directly. It is one thing to ere in ignorance but quite another to deny such a request. The choice is certainly yours and so are the consequences attendant thereunto, be they good or ill."

Irwin went to his knees sobbing, "who am I to speak to these heathens? I am a skeptic, a heretic!"

Trian smiled sadly, "the Master has asked and he will provide a way if you will but trust him."

"Very well," said Irwin, "what must I tell them?"

Trian said, "tell them that the true Master of the Sea and all beyond and before, is horrified by their murder of countless of their fellow men and if they do not desist in their evil and turn in humility to Him, utter destruction and judgment is sure to come upon them swiftly."

Irwin asked, "do I save myself by delivering your message? Am I yet to die as you have portended?"

Trian said, "only the Master can save you and for that you must fully trust in him, not merely believe, for even the Evil One believes in the existence of his arch nemesis. He can save your soul but he may not spare your life. Farewell!"

Suddenly Irwin was alone in the night but his aching heart stirred with a hope and peace he could not quite explain. He paced relentlessly that night and argued with himself and the Master, now demanding, now begging. But ever his heart cried against his mind and all for which he had once stood. Finally he went to his knees and wept in exhausted grief as if he were losing all he had once held dear. He surrendered his life, his soul, everything, but instead of feeling empty and trapped and foolish, he felt truly at peace and a weird sort of joy that refused to completely vanish even when thinking about his looming doom and the unpleasant task ahead. He sighed and wondered why he had not done such a thing sooner and knew it was the same pride that had kept him from bowing before the Sea God. Finally his heart no longer bowed before the altar of his own ego but knelt with wonder and humility and awe before Him who had wrought it and loved it enough to die that it might live.

He slept long and hard in the midst of the garden where he had collapsed in exhaustion. The acolytes found him and rushed to tell the Priestess. She came curiously to her long held captive and asked, "what has transpired this night? Why did you not sleep in your accustomed place? The sacrifice has never offended you so before."

Irwin said in trepidation, "you admit to being as much a skeptic as I once was myself but I have undeniably encountered something that lays all skepticism to rest. Even as you killed a man last night and cavorted in his fresh spilled blood, I saw him walking in this garden and he spoke to me a thing which I am dread to pass on but my very bones shall cry out if I remain silent. Unless you and all your people cease your senseless murder and turn wholeheartedly to the true Master of All, you are doomed for the judgment of the Master shall come swiftly upon you."

She laughed, "this is a strange tale but perhaps you were overcome by the fumes of the ritual or with grief for your friend? He was a noble man but nothing more. Nothing shall convince me of his endurance beyond the grave."

She smiled in amusement, "but if your bones weep because you cannot proclaim your madness to the world I shall give you that chance. It shall be amusing to see what the people shall say when you speak such to them but know that you cannot be long for this world unless another victim is soon in coming."

She laughed and walked away but exchanged a few words with the incredulous guard who had led Trian about the previous day. He roughly escorted Irwin from his enclave and set him in the midst of the town square and announced all should listen to the heretic at the behest of the High Priestess. Irwin told again what he had just said and the reaction ranged from disbelief to open scorn to vast amusement. They would have tossed rotten fruit at him or spit at him had he not been set aside as a sacrificial victim to the Sea God. So it went day after day and yet no one would listen. All laughed, most especially the High Priestess, but their laughter became weaker and more hollow each day as the sea rumbled and fretted and seemed on the verge of madness. The people murmured amongst themselves that this heretic had certainly brought down the wrath of the Sea God upon them rather than heeding that this was truly a warning from the Master that their time was short. Finally, they could stand it no longer and demanded of the Priestess that she appease the Sea God with the blood of this infidel.

As they led him away as he had seen so many others go, Irwin finally understood how Trian could face such an end with such certainty for he knew it was but the beginning of better things. He had done faithfully that which had been asked and the Master had not failed to lend him wisdom and strength, and here at the end he actually looked forward to what was to come. He lay bound on the altar, the music was wild about him, the crowd was ravenous for his blood, and just as the blade was about to strike, a sound like thunder filled the hall. All went dark save the Being standing tall and terrible in their midst.

The Master himself had come and all quaked in terror before him. He intoned with a firm but grieved voice, "will any yet come to me? Your doom is upon you but so is salvation at the door!" There was some muffled weeping but soon it was replaced by a roar of unending laughter which grew in volume and intensity until it roared like a wrathful sea and the sea it was, come to wash away the evil which infested that land. The mortal laughter vanished as it was consumed by the inrushing waves and then the unending dark. Irwin found himself alone with the Master in a place fully dark and dreadful save for that glorious presence. Said He, "you at least have been faithful though stubborn until the last child, but come this is not your place for you have finally trusted me. Come." Irwin's heart sank in shame and mortification at his words but such feelings were soon lost and forgotten when his eyes looked upon the country that now lay before him. The Master smiled in amusement and said, "welcome home child, now and ever after."

### The Greylands: Volume II Sample Chapter: The Mistborn:

The captain laughed, "it seems we are known. "Go not into the Elf Wood," grated the old man on the village green amidst the wide-eyed children that had gathered to hear his tales. He continued, "strange are the rumors of that country. Those that go in never come out or if they do, they are never the same again. 'Tis far better to stay at home and mind your own business than risk that cursed place."

"But do not fairies and unicorns dwell in the Wood?" piped one small, hopeful girl.

"Bah," scowled the old man, "there be all manner of strange folk in that wood and none knows who or what might dwell there. As I said, it is best to leave well enough alone!"

"But it sounds the perfect place for an adventure," blurted out a boy a bit older than the girl.

"Who needs adventure?" groused the old man, "certainly not you. Forget such foolishness. Life is hard enough without going out and looking for trouble!"

"But I want to see the Unicorn," said the boy defiantly.

The old man glanced around cautiously, as if the roan cow tethered on the green might carry tales, before saying, "those are dangerous words boy. Where did you hear such a tale?"

The boy smiled mischievously, "my old granny tells such tales before the fire each night."

The man said quietly, "you would do well to forget such tales or at least not spread them abroad. I would bring this to your father but being the man he is I doubt such tale bearing would be of much avail. But heed well my words lad, there are those in this world that would take such tales amiss and it just might bring unwanted attention upon your family."

The boy drew himself up and said, "and why should I fear anyone in the least? Granny says all who follow the Unicorn have nothing to fear from man or beast."

The old man smirked, "has your old granny never heard of the Blackguard? They would make short work of you and she, if they heard such prattling on. If you love your lives you will hold your tongues."

"But papa is one of the Whiteguard," squeaked the girl, "he would never let any such thing happen. And granny says we must not remain silent, for everybody should have the chance to hear about the Unicorn."

The old man shook his head in exasperation and quickly abandoned his eager young audience, fearing to hear any more of such nonsense. The Unicorn indeed! If that old myth were true the world would certainly be in a better state than it was. If such a benevolent creature ever existed, certainly it was dead and gone centuries ago as the old tale told. Those poor deluded youngsters and their stubborn parents would one day rue their fanatic devotion to such a pathetic cause. Everyone knew the only way to survive in this wretched world was to avoid the wrath of the Dark Prince and his thrice cursed Blackguard. If you had to cling to outdated superstition at least keep quiet about it lest you get the whole village murdered! He hobbled slowly back to his crumbling hovel, muttering the entire way under his breath.

The small group of children listened in fascination as the boy regaled them with one tale after another about the Unicorn and the Fairywood. The older boys smirked in derision, thinking they knew better and were far wiser than the bold orator before them while the younger children hung on every word as hope stirred within them. The group only broke up when their various mothers called them home for supper. The boy took the little girl's hand and together they made their way towards home. The children dispersed and there was much excited chatter over the evening meal and many concerned parents thereafter.

The boy's father received many aggrieved visitors over the course of the next few days, all quite upset by the tales carried by his son. How could he let the boy carry such dangerous tales? Did he wish them all to suffer the wrath of the Dark Prince and his evil minions? The man only shook his head gravely and said that the boy was free to speak as he felt he must and if they objected they did not have to listen. They stormed away in a fury and muttered together their frustrations behind closed doors and over a mug of ale at the local inn of an evening. The man smiled slightly and hastened to find his troublemaking son. He found the boy busy about the farmyard with various small chores; taking the boy by the shoulder he led him to a quiet place alongside the woodshed and seated themselves on a couple convenient logs.

"Son," said he, "you have garnered the wrath of many in this village with your stories." The boy blanched, fearing some rebuke but the man continued, "that it has caused such an outrage means your stories are having some effect on stony and hardened hearts. I must commend you for your courage in speaking so for I know others have warned you that such tales are quite unpopular of late. I am sorry to say my own enthusiasm for speaking thus has been dampened of late with care and worry, but I think you have the right of it. These great things must be spoken and not hidden from view simply for fear of our lives. Whatever happens for your temerity, I must tell you that I am proud of you and will try and be so bold myself."

Amazement stilled the boy's tongue and was writ large in his eyes and upon his face. The man smiled, clapped the boy on the back, and returned to his own work. The boy shared a parting grin with his father and ran off to tell his mother. His mother and grandmother were busy about the house and listened with amused smiles as the boy told of his encounter with his father. His mother cautioned however, "it is good to share your grandmother's stories but you must be cautious in who you let overhear you. All must have the chance to hear, but caution is warranted lest you fall into the hands of darkness."

The boy's smile slipped as he said, "but father said all must hear and that caution is not needed. Will not the Unicorn protect us should some danger present itself?"

His mother smiled gently and said, "certainly you must speak these things. I only say be careful in whom you confide for many will carry tales to your enemies. The Unicorn shall certainly be with His faithful but that does not mean He shall rescue us from every evil and danger that presents itself. Suffering, sorrow, and danger are certainties in this fallen world, my son. The Unicorn has promised not to abandon us forever to such things and has in fact overthrown both evil and death, but that age is yet to come. In this present age we must endure that which we must. That is why I warn you not to court death by being too bold in your proclamations."

The boy drew himself up and said, "I will not hide as if I am embarrassed of what I believe. Why does papa hide from everyone?"

A look of surprise crossed his mother's face and she said, "what is your father hiding?"

He sighed, "I know he once rode for the Whiteguard. Why does he now live in obscurity and say nothing of what he once was?"

His mother smiled weakly and said, "no one is allowed to ride with the Guard who has dependent children. He has retired to raise a family. Once you and your sister are grown, perhaps he shall ride with them again."

The boy nodded sagely but said, "then should he not at least be sharing the reasons for which he once rode? Is that not also a duty of the Guard as well as fighting against the minions of the Dark Prince?"

His mother nodded sadly and said, "your father and I have remained silent for fear that our family might suffer for it. It seems all his old spirit lives again in you. Not that long ago nothing could have stilled his tongue but our old courage is long fled. My heart stirs within me to have kept silent so long and deny our neighbors the chance to hear that which we consider most dear. Forgive me my son, and thank you for rousing again the courage that has waned for so many years. I shall speak to your father about it, but we shall also make plans to defend ourselves or escape should our enemies fall upon us for our renewed boldness." The boy beamed and ran off to find his little sister and tell her all the news. He found her running swiftly from the surrounding forest with much delight and eagerness.

She shouted joyfully to her brother, "I have seen one! I have seen one!"

Winded, she stopped her flight and gasped for breath as Kyan said, "what have you seen Clara?"

The little girl beamed, "one of the Mistborn of course."

He looked at her seriously and asked, "truly?"

She grinned all the more, "it could have been nothing else! Let us find granny and perhaps she will tell us more of them!"

In any other child this mysterious sighting might be thought a fancy of the child's imagination but Clara was not prone to such whimsies. They ran together into the house where granny sat by the fire with her knitting in her lap. The two breathless children stood before her and Clara made her declaration and demanded to know all the old woman had to tell about such creatures.

The old woman's eyes sparkled in delight but were wide with surprise as she said, "the Mistborn? Child, are you sure?" Clara glowered at not being believed but nodded succinctly. The old woman nodded sagely and said as the two children sat at her feet, "the Mistborn is it? They are strange and mysterious creatures certainly, perhaps the most mysterious to haunt this world, if they truly walk upon it. Much is rumored about them and almost nothing known. What is true and what is folly I cannot tell. I will tell you that which I consider closest to the truth but even that is hard to believe."

She continued, "for all the long ages that the Dark Prince has ruled over the lands of men, he has fought constantly against the Unicorn. You have heard many times the tale of Him that left His beautiful kingdom far from mortal sorrows and became mortal Himself for a time, to right the wrongs of mankind. He came and spoke peace but men heeded Him not and allowed Him to fall into the hands of those who mocked and killed Him. The Dark Prince had thought himself victorious that day but little did he know that he had sealed his own doom, for death could not hold such as He. He rose again to life and by trusting in Him, we also might live. For it was His blood that paid the price demanded of each and every man for all his many crimes against his Maker and his fellow men. The Unicorn then returned to His own country but promised to return one day and finally overthrow the Fell Prince and restore the world to what it should ever have been, save for the folly of man.

He left his followers to spread the tale of His coming that all might hear and find hope and life anew. The Dark Prince in his wrath, has long hunted down and destroyed anyone found believing such heresy as he sees it, but this is just the latest offensive in a war that has lasted since the Dark Prince himself rebelled against his Master and will last until the end of time, when the Unicorn shall end the rebellion once and for all. Now you know the Dark Prince has many servants, both of men and strange and terrible creatures, but the Maker has His own armies and servants as well."

She took a deep breath and continued her story, "you both know of the Whiteguard, of which your father was once a part. It is composed of those men and even a few daring women who ride against the minions of darkness and also spread word of their Master everywhere they go. There are other, more mysterious creatures and people in the world and to whom their allegiance lies, only they and the Unicorn know. Most dwell in the Fairywood but are sometimes seen abroad. Among these are the elves, the Mistborn, and other more mysterious races. A few of the more daring elves have actually left the Wood and have ridden abroad and have even ridden with the Whiteguard at times. These creatures are quite different from men but similar enough in characteristics that we can at least comprehend something of their nature.

The Mistborn are another thing entirely. They are rumored to frequent the Fairywood but legend holds that they can be seen almost anywhere and at the strangest times. They go about by means unknown, upon errands of which only they know the purpose. They are said to be not quite solid just like their namesake, neither are they thought to be easily slain by mortal blade. Some say they are servants of the Master, while others think them quite their own masters, and still others fear them to be some phantasm of the darkness. They seem to appear most frequently wherever trouble is or is soon to be. Some consider them harbingers of doom while a few whisper that they are actually saviors in a hopeless night. Whatever they are, I would be cautious in my dealings with them my children. Now Clara, tell me what happened when you glimpsed this creature. Did you interact with it at all or simply glimpse it from a distance?"

Clara beamed in delight and recited her full tale, "I was in the wood a'gathering berries as mama told me when thin tendrils of mist crept out of the low places and gathered round about me. Suddenly it started to glow with a light like the morning sun and a woman appeared in its midst, as if she had been lost in deepest fog and suddenly became visible as the fog thinned. She was the most beautiful creature I have ever seen and it seemed the light came from her. She asked if I would like to go with her. I was silent for fear and awe and then cried out in a fright that I would have to ask my mother and ran with all my might until I came out of the woods. What does it mean granny?"

Granny looked thoughtful for a moment and said, "I do not know my dear. Perhaps there is some danger coming and she wishes to bear you to safety or perhaps she wishes to spirit you away for her own strange reasons. You must certainly tell your mother."

"But what am I to do if she comes again?" asked the girl.

The old woman shook her head gravely but made no answer. Clara wasted no time in telling both of her parents as they sat over supper. The pair exchanged a concerned look and her mother said, "darling, are you certain you saw such a creature and it was not just weariness playing on an overactive imagination?"

The girl glowered at such an insult and then sighed in exasperation as she saw plainly that neither of her parents believed her. "Mama," said she, "what am I to do if she comes again?"

Her mother smiled slightly and said, "of course you may go with her dear, but you must be home in time for dinner."

Clara sighed and finished her food in silence. Granny and Kyan exchanged a concerned look at the disbelief of the others while the skeptics shared a knowing smile. Their daughter was not prone to fits of whimsy but there was no reason she could not suddenly start, especially after all the recent excitement over Kyan's tales and the complaining of the old man upon the green about such fancies.

After the meal was cleaned up, Clara said sadly to granny, "they do not believe me!"

Granny said gently, "grownups sometimes forget the wisdom of childhood, but take heart my dear, for perhaps they will realize their shortsightedness soon enough."

Clara sighed again but tried to find solace in her grandmother's words. Kyan sat quietly by the fire, contemplating his sister's strange adventure and trying to decide whether he should follow her into the woods on the morrow to see this strange apparition for himself, should it appear. Kyan awoke early and hurried through his morning chores that he might be free in time to follow his sister should she venture again into the woods in search of berries, wraiths, or both. He was both intrigued, terrified, and skeptical that such a creature could truly visit so common a place as the woods about their farm. The Fairywood, where such creatures must certainly be common, lay far to the north while the dominions of the Dark Prince lay far to the south.

In between lay a vast stretch of land inhabited by men and divided up into many countries each ruled by its own King, but the minions of the Dark Prince rode freely where they would and did as they pleased. They killed, kidnapped, or stole whatever and whomever they wanted. Some of the local lads sometimes volunteered to ride away with the Blackguard in hopes of joining it and gaining for themselves power and wealth beyond the normal means of men of their standing. Besides the human soldiers, it was rumored that there were far more terrible and unnatural creatures that roamed about at the bidding of their dark master. Such a patrol however, had not ridden through this part of the world in a generation and it was hoped that such peace would continue. Many rulers paid tribute to the Dark Prince in both valuables and people that their own lands might be spared such predations by his roving minions. Those nations closest to the south and the least despotic were the most prone to such invasion.

Clara was sent again into the forest to gather the seasonal fruits with which her mother would make many lovely jams and pies. Her supposed encounter of the previous day had cut short her foraging so her mother was even more anxious to be provided with the first fruits of the season. The girl was eager but also a little afraid to meet the strange woman again in the woods. She clutched her basket, as if it were the only thing protecting her from the strange apparition and boldly made her way again to the place where she had seen the woman. Kyan followed at a distance and kept to the cover of the bushes that lined the path upon which his sister trod. Now and then she would gather a handful of berries but for the most part she spent her time looking about anxiously for some sign of her phantasm. The day was growing old and the normal mist of evening began to creep out of the low places as Clara turned towards home rather disappointed when, there before her the mist began to glow, but this time with the intensity of the moon rather than the new risen sun. Again the woman stood before her though this time she looked more solid than before but also more anxious. She glanced about carefully and seemed to be straining her ears at something beyond mortal hearing before she focused on the child before her.

Kyan crouched on a slight ridge above the path, well hidden by the verdant spring growth. He was silent in awe as he watched the pair interact. The woman said in a voice sweeter than that of any bird, "will you come away with me child? There is not much time!" Again she seemed to listen to something beyond hearing. She glanced anxiously down the path and finally said, "we must go now else it is too late. Will you come?"

Clara smiled in trepidation and said, "mama said I could go as long as I was back for supper."

The woman said simply, "I fear you shall have no supper to return to. But take my hand now, if you will."

The girl thought about this for a moment but suddenly grim determination blazed upon her face as she remembered her parents' disbelief and she thrust her hand into that of the waiting woman. No sooner had Clara taken the woman's hand than they both grew very misty and suddenly vanished, as if becoming part of the fog itself. Suddenly the sound of thundering hooves was heard in the distance and a dozen horses galloped through the place where the pair had stood. Kyan froze in terror and his heart clenched to see the black banner and uniforms borne by the party which could mean only one thing: the Dark Prince had not overlooked their small corner of the world forever, as some had foolishly hoped. Once the party was past, Kyan sprang to his feet and ran towards the village with all the speed he possessed. He came in time to see the men dismounting on the green and the soldiers running from door to door and demanding that all present themselves before 'his Fell Majesty's honored servants.' There were many groans and screams of terror as the horrified villagefolk assembled themselves on the green and cowered before their visitors.

Once all had assembled, their dark captain said, "is this all your folk?" There were some murmured assurances as the captain scanned the crowd and counted his men.

"Not all my lord," said a tall boy stepping out of the terrified mass of people.

The captain eyed him curiously and asked, "and who is missing, my bold young man?"

The boy smiled maliciously and said, "heretics, my lord. A family of heretics dwells not far from here."

"Heretics you say?" smiled the captain darkly, "let us to these heretics and we shall see what comes of them. What is your name lad?"

The boy bowed deeply and said, "my name is Roan, my lord."

The captain said, "well Roan, we shall soon deal with these heretics of yours and if all goes well, perhaps you would be pleased to join my honored company?"

Roan nodded his pleasure and bowed once more, saying, "if you shall follow me my lord, I shall show you the dwelling place of our enemies."

The captain motioned for the boy to lead on and for the entire village to follow. Most were terrified for the lives of those who had been their friends and neighbors for so many years but no few thought whatever their fate, that it was justly deserved for their behavior of late. It was not long before they stood in a great throng in the farmyard while soldiers, clutching their swords and bearing torches, pounded upon the door of the house. Kyan rushed ahead, hoping to raise the alarm but found several soldiers had mounted their horses and ridden ahead to block escape through the backdoor should such be attempted. Kyan crouched once more in the veiling vegetation, praying desperately that some miracle might deliver them from this nightmare.

The summons was not answered and the door was broken down. The soldiers forced their way in and two were cut down by Kyan's father before he was subdued and disarmed, though mortally wounded in the process. His mother and grandmother were caught by the rearguard as they tried to sneak out the backdoor. The dying man and two women were brought before the captain as the entire village looked on. "Such behavior is proof enough of heresy," snarled the captain, "is this all the family?"

Roan said grimly, "there are two children, a boy and a girl."

The captain growled at the man, "where are your wretched spawn?"

The man coughed and a trickle of blood dribbled from one side of his mouth, "that you shall never know."

The captain sneered, "fear not, we shall find them and then bear them with all speed to our master who shall do with them as he pleases. I am well informed that your entire family is composed of heretics and the penalty for such stupidity is death. Do you deny it?" The three prisoners stared at him grimly but said nothing. The captain smiled terribly and turned to the villagers, "are there any here who would speak in defense of these rebels?" The villagers stared stonily back at the man, none dared to look upon the condemned, save Roan who wore a malicious smile. "Will you even now denounce your heresy if I promise to spare your lives?" asked the captain in his most condescending tone. Again he was met with grim silence. "Very well," said the captain, "you have condemned yourselves." Each of the prisoners was bound hand and foot and cast back into the house and the doors and windows barred from without.

Kyan watched in trembling horror as his father succumbed to his wounds even as he was thrown back into what was once his home. His mother fainted and his grandmother struggled as she would but could not escape her captors. Once all were locked inside the house it was set afire; the villagers watched in silent horror as the flames consumed the house and all within. Kyan felt as if his own heart were afire with guilt, grief, and shame. He watched his entire life disappear in flame and smoke until nothing remained but a smoldering heap of rubble. Content with their night's work, the soldiers returned to the village to root out any more heretics, to enjoy a night's carousing, and to see what plunder they could gain for themselves and their masters ere they rode off in the morning.

Kyan lay in a miserable heap among the bushes and hardly held back his sobs until the last of the soldiers had vanished beyond sight and hearing and then he wept bitterly. He had cried himself out, save for an occasionally sobbing breath when an airy voice from above said, "and what will you do now?" Kyan looked up in alarm to see a magpie sitting upon a branch not a foot from his face. His surprise almost overcame his anguish of heart as he sat up to look more easily at this strange bird.

"You talk?" said the boy in amazement.

"Of course," said the bird, "but you have yet to answer my question."

The boy said, "I almost wish to surrender to the soldiers and meet whatever end they will mete out. It would be easier that way."

The bird cocked his head and said, "really?"

The boy stared at the bird in anger at his temerity and said, "how can I go on living when all I love have perished and the Master has failed me?"

"Has he?" asked the bird.

The boy growled, "what else would you call it? My sister is spirited away and all my family is dead!"

"You are alive," said the bird.

The boy scowled, "and what use is that when all of me yearns for death?"

The bird squawked a laugh, "and you think those fiends would give it you? I think not. They would force you into their fell service and there you would die a miserable death, a rebel against your true master, and forever sundered from those you love."

The boy sighed, "I suppose you are right but how can you claim that the Maker has not abandoned me?"

The bird would have smiled if he could, "you are alive, your sister is safe, and your family now beyond mortal suffering and you think yourself abandoned?"

He looked at the bird curiously, "I suppose if you put it that way. But I thought the Unicorn was to protect us and look after us in all things."

The bird laughed, "He does, but that does not mean everything will turn out the way you want it to. All things are accomplished for the good of those that love Him but that does not mean everything in this life will be sunshine and roses. There will be plenty of trials, tribulations, and sorrow but He shall give you strength to bear all things and be with you all the long and weary way. What He considers to be in your best interest may seem appalling to you but in the end it will turn out for the best if you remain true to Him. What about my question?"

The boy sighed, "you know too much for a bird! I do not know what I shall do. I cannot stay here or the villagers might betray me to curry favor with the soldiers. I think I will head north and perhaps discover if all the legends of the Fairywood are true or not. Failing that, maybe I will try and join up with the Whiteguard. What has become of my sister?"

The bird said, "your sister is safe and that is all you need to know for the moment. As to your plans, it seems a sensible idea, for now. And who ever said I was a bird?"

The boy gaped at the bird but before he could speak the creature had taken wing and disappeared into the night dark forest. The boy sat for some time pondering the creature's words and wondered what this strange apparition might portend. Finally he rose with a sigh and approached the silent farmyard. He carefully skirted the ash heap that had been his home and made for the barn. He saddled their plow horse, gathered what supplies he could for a journey, and silently led the animal out into the night. He reached the cover of the woods before mounting and then sped off as fast as the aging creature could go. The moon was rising and gave light enough to see the path; he traveled long into the night until the moon had fled and the darkness forced him to seek a hiding place where he might rest for the day. He led the creature off the great road upon which he found himself and secreted himself in a little dell surrounded by a dense growth of young trees. He slept most of the morning until he was wakened by the rhythmic trotting of many hooves upon the adjacent highway. He crept close enough to see who it was upon the road without being seen himself and was both satisfied and terrified to see the same soldiers from the previous evening coming along the road behind him.

He was even more dismayed to see Roan riding proudly among them. He counted eight soldiers and began to wonder where the others had gone when it occurred to him that someone might have noticed the missing horse and raised the alarm and that the missing guards might be out looking for him. "Quite an astute observation," said the magpie in his ear. Kyan stiffened, thinking the soldiers might overhear but soon relaxed thinking that such a strange creature must certainly know the danger and would not do anything to endanger them both. The bird winked, "another good assumption."

The boy stared at the bird, "how is it you can read my thoughts?"

The bird shrugged and said, "let us just say there is nothing that escapes my notice. But now let us attend to your predicament. You cannot ride ahead until you are certain these soldiers are well beyond you yet you cannot go back for fear of scouts and remaining here will be dangerous for the returning scouts will surely search this place for you."

"That is quite helpful," snapped the boy, "as you know, I am well aware of that."

The bird cocked his head and stared at the boy hard with one of his beady eyes until the boy flushed crimson and mumbled his apologies. The bird gave a curt nod and said, "you would do well to remember to respect all with whom you have dealings, most especially those who serve the King." The boy nodded glumly and the bird said, "fear not, but learn well. Now I shall advise you if you have patience to hear me." He looked questioningly at the boy who nodded eagerly.

The bird continued, "very well, there is a village well to the east of here that you will reach by nightfall tomorrow if you press hard. Those soldiers are bound thence after stopping at several more villages along the way. I advise that you ride in that direction and give aid to the one you will find there. This personage must not fall into the hands of the Enemy."

The boy gasped, "what then am I to do? How can I, a mere boy and refugee myself, give aid to another?"

The bird eyed him sternly and said, "I would not appoint you a task if there were not some hope of you accomplishing it."

The boy again mumbled an apology and said, "then I shall succeed?"

The bird said, "there are no guarantees this side of eternity lad. I said there was a way, not a certainty of success."

The boy looked in trepidation at the bird but nodded firmly, though the creature had vanished the boy was quite certain he had seen his nod and more importantly knew his mind. He waited a few more moments to make certain the way was clear and then withdrew into the copse to collect his horse and scanty supplies. He made his way with much difficulty to the eastern side of the little glen and then rode off down the cart path he found there with as much speed as the animal could maintain over some distance. He pressed the animal and himself, stopping only to water the horse and rest for a short period before pressing on. As the day gave place to night, weariness overcame both man and beast and they crept from the road into another thicket for the night. No sooner had they vanished from the road than the thunder of galloping hooves came quickly down the cart path. Two soldiers dressed in the black of the Dark Prince clattered by, likely searching for the errant boy. The boy settled in for the night and sometime long after full dark the same men passed once more but this time walking their weary horses. Again they passed him by and the boy fell into a deep sleep, only waking with the first glimmerings of dawn in the east.

He was soon in his saddle and again pressing hard for the unnamed village. As the magpie had said, he arrived just ere nightfall as his horse stumbled in weariness. He hid in the trees surrounding the village and leaving the weary horse some way into the woods, he crept to the brink of the village and watched and waited for half an hour until he was certain there were no soldiers about. He crept from the trees and made his way towards the inn, hoping to find whoever it was that needed to vanish quickly from the village. He walked into the common room trying to look nonchalant but only succeeding in looking like someone up to no good. The locals eyed him stonily and the few strangers in the place shook their heads in amusement, knowing him for an adventurous youth without a penny to his name. Everyone watched him until he slunk into a seat far to the back and vanished from sight. After the general curiosity had died down, Kyan began to study his surroundings and hoped to see someone of interest.

"You certainly know how to walk unnoticed into a room," laughed a merry voice beside him. Kyan jumped at the noise and turned to face this unknown foe. A tall, thin boy with delicate features, stunning blue eyes, and flaxen hair stood at his shoulder with a smile of sheer joy upon his face. He noticed Kyan's surprise and said as amusement twinkled in his eyes, "I am sorry to startle you so. May I join you? We are both strangers here and I would welcome your company." Kyan nodded silently and the boy drew up a chair. Kyan's eyes grew wide as he noticed the slightly tapered ears barely hidden under the boy's slanting cap. The boy noticed Kyan's renewed astonishment and carefully adjusted his headwear before saying quietly, "I would appreciate if you told no one of my unique heritage." Kyan nodded silently and the elven boy smiled again, "now what brings you to this backwater village?"

Kyan said dazedly, "I think it is you." The boy cocked his head in interest and Kyan continued, "a talking magpie told me to come here to meet someone who should not be found by the agents of the Dark Prince and to aid him in his escape, if possible." The elf nodded as if this made all the sense in the world. Kyan eyed the elf strangely, "you do not take me for some sort of lunatic?"

The boy laughed, "it all seems perfectly logical to me. Perhaps you do not know from whence I come?" Kyan nodded, having forgotten that to a former resident of the Fairywood a talking bird must not seem all that strange.

"So what are you doing here?" asked Kyan.

The elf boy said, "few of my people leave the haven of the Wood but I felt my duty lay in the Outlands, as we call them, and here I hoped to do great things in the King's name. I sadly lost my way and find myself far from home and quite friendless. I still wish to do something to aid your desperate race but I find myself beginning to yearn more and more for home. What of you?"

Kyan blinked back tears and said, "I too have become a refugee and a wanderer, though out of necessity rather than duty. Not three days ago the Blackguard came through my village and murdered my family in the name of their fell lord, for they would not deny the Master. I managed to escape but even so, there are scouts upon the road set to look for me. I too am alone in the world, save for a magpie that occasionally makes an appearance."

The elf smiled sadly and said, "I am sorry for your current grief but you must not mourn overly much for you will not be sundered forever from those you love. I cannot speak for the magpie, but if you are truly in the King's service you are never truly alone."

Kyan smiled sheepishly and said, "you are right of course but I meant as far as human companions go."

The elf smiled, "I of course am not human but would be delighted to travel with you."

Kyan brightened and said, "we had best go then before the soldiers decide to terrorize this village as they did my own."

The elf nodded, stood, and motioned for Kyan to follow. They walked into the deepest shadows of the inn and quietly left through a small door that opened into the stableyard. A leggy black stallion stood in the shadows awaiting his master. He would have whinnied in greeting but the elf motioned for him to remain silent. "Have you a horse?" asked the elfling of Kyan as he eyed the great horse with amazement.

Kyan said, "she is tied in the woods not far from here but she is nothing compared to this fabulous creature."

The horse bowed his head at this compliment and Kyan asked, "does he understand all we say?"

The elf laughed, "of course, the horses of the Fairywood are nothing like the poor creatures of mortal lands. Come, we had best not linger. I am sure there are those who would sell us into the hands of our enemies. Go fetch your mare and we shall meet you along the road."

Kyan nodded and darted into the darkness. He appeared not long after upon the road going east out of town. They set forth immediately, the great horse keeping his pace to that of the weary mare. They rode for an hour until they found a convenient spot to hide. They slipped under cover and the elf declared he would take the first watch as Kyan gratefully descended into a much needed sleep. Kyan was wakened for his turn at watch and the elf boy took his chance at rest. In the grimmest hour of the night, Kyan heard the steady step of a horse upon the road. The horse passed twice in the night.

Kyan waked his companion and told of what he had seen. The elf remarked cheerily, "we left the village just in time."

"No you did not," said a grim voice from the direction of the road. The elf reached for the sword at his belt and Kyan froze in terror, clutching his belt knife. The dark captain and half of his men sat their horses nearby. The great horse screamed a challenge and the captain's stallion answered with his own fierce cry. The captain said, "will you surrender and come quietly or will we make a swift end of you both?"

The elf laughed, "that is a foolish question. We certainly shall not yield to such as yourselves nor your foul master."

The captain laughed grimly and urged his horse down the bank towards the outrageous youth. The others followed suit, making them easy prey for the dozen horsemen that rode up behind them. The two boys stared in astonishment as battle was met and the darkly clad men were quickly overcome with only two of their rescuers taking minor wounds from their foes. Once the fracas had died down, the leader of the small band addressed the stunned boys, "and how did two simple boys earn the enmity of such men?"

Kyan gasped, "the Whiteguard!"

He bowed from his saddle, "at your service. And who might you be?"

The elf smiled, "two wanderers much indebted to your rescue."

The man said grimly, "it might be best if you returned home lads. The wide world is no place for such as you."

Kyan said quietly, "I have no home to return to. The very men you slew murdered my family and turned my village against us all."

The elf said, "I left home to serve my King in some capacity and dare not return thence until I have been of such service."

At this, the boy removed his concealing headgear and the captain nodded sagely, "then perhaps you would honor us with your presence amongst us? We can always use another faithful sword." The boys exchanged a smile and made for their horses. The captain eyed the elf's horse with approval but looked sadly upon the old mare saying, "lad, that poor old girl will not survive the pace we must set. You had best turn her lose and take one of the beasts belonging of late to the Dark Prince. You had best take a sword as well."

The boy nodded grimly and chose the best of the three riderless horses standing patiently about. He reluctantly loosed the poor creature from her harness and patted her fondly in farewell but knew the hard truth of the man's words. Kyan then approached one of the dead soldiers and disarmed him, though it was a task he would have rather avoided. He had never been so close to a dead man before. The captain nodded grimly as the boy awkwardly mounted with his new weapon and the captain said, "we had best be going before the rest of the troop comes upon us unawares." Setting his words to action, he rode off and his men fell in behind him.

Though they kept up a swift pace, Kyan was able to question the elf as they rode, "is this what you had imagined would happen when you left the Wood?"

The elf smiled and said, "I did not know what would happen but I am content with my adventures so far. Many of my people have served with distinction in the Whiteguard."

The captain turned back to reply and said, "very few of your folk have ventured forth from your haven in my lifetime."

The elf laughed, "but my people do not grow old and frail as is the plight of your sad race. When I say many, I mean many though it is counted in millennia rather than decades."

The captain laughed, "when you put it that way then I am forced to agree. What of you lad? Can you wield a sword?"

Kyan shrugged, "my father taught me the basics of such a weapon though I am far from proficient."

The captain smiled, "we shall rectify that soon enough. At least you will not stab yourself in the process. How come you to know of the Whiteguard? Few in these latter days know anything of us."

The boy said, "my father once rode among you."

The man nodded, "then I am honored to be of service to his son. You have my condolences upon your loss but I hope you come to see us as family and friends while you are amongst us."

Kyan bowed his head silently in thanks for the man's kindness. They rode hard and were soon far beyond the thicket where the impromptu battle had taken place that morning. They made camp and posted a watch while the captain and a few of the other men worked with Kyan on his swordsmanship and spoke to the boys about their new life. The days passed quickly as the company rode north. Kyan grew in skill and confidence with the sword and Fyanor the elf became his dearest companion while the men of their company became their extended family. They fought against any of the minions of the Darklord who crossed their path and occasionally men broke off in pairs to speak the light of the Maker into the dark lives of those they met. Men left the company in this way, one man was lost in combat, but as they rode so too did men wish to join their ranks, or wandering members of the Guard joined them for a time before breaking off again to spread word of the Master abroad. In this way, the makeup of the company was constantly changing. There were such bands scattered throughout the world doing the same thing. Finally, the day came when their captain said to Kyan and Fyanor, "I think it is time the both of you took your turn speaking hope to the hopeless." The pair exchanged an anxious look but nodded eagerly before setting out on their first solo adventure.

