 
## UPON THE ASHES OF EMPIRE

_______________________________________

### BALLARD TRILOGY : 3

### STEPHEN L. NOWLAND

### Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2016-2019 Stephen Louis Nowland

Edited by Lesley Wheeler

Map Illustration by Cornelia Yoder

http://www.corneliayoder.com

The Author asserts the moral right to be

identified as the author of this work.

Table of Contents

World Map

Local Map

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Epilogue

About the Author

Prologue

The stars glittered overhead, a thousand points sparkling in the endless ocean of night. Aislin Ballard didn't realise how much she'd missed them until, on her first night on the road, she laid back and stared into the clear evening sky. A chill wind gusted across the snow-covered lands as the sun's last light vanished below the horizon, yet she hardly felt the cold. After all she and her friends had gone through of late, for that moment at least, she was content.

Lying alongside her on the warm blanket was her even warmer cat, Keg. The big ginger tom was in one of his lazy moods brought on by the colder weather and he took every opportunity to snuggle up to someone. He lay between Aislin and the fire, soaking up the heat from both sources before he buried himself beneath the blanket for the night.

Their blissful rest lasted only until the sound of metal banging on metal interrupted her reverie. On the other side of the crackling camp fire loomed the metal form of Conrad, a magical construct imbued with a strange sort of rudimentary intelligence. His armoured body was still damaged from the Battle of Aurumgaard, most notably his chest which had withstood the brunt of a Kurhanir cannon.

It was from behind this metal plate where the banging sounds emerged as Gordon MacTavish, an accomplished engineer and blacksmith, attempted to hammer out the dents as best he could. In between strikes, Aislin could hear a low muttering which indicated the job wasn't going as well as he would have liked.

"I need a proper forge fer this sorta work," he complained after giving the metal one last futile bash. "We really should've repaired this thing afore we left Aurumgaard." The chest piece squeaked open like a hatch, allowing Gordon to peer outside and vent his frustrations to Jaz Katan, the construct's creator. She was preoccupied with her own patient, the towering escardi Carthack Valdis who sat quietly while she tended his injuries.

"Here, try this," Jaz responded, offering a small metal tool from her satchel. Aislin recognised it as the aetheric hammer, a powerful tool that could, when in a pinch, also be used as a weapon. She didn't understand what 'aetheric' meant, but assumed it was some kind of clever word meaning 'magic'.

"How does it work?" Gordon asked, dubiously examining the device with a furrowed brow. Between his bushy eyebrows and his thick, plaited beard, there wasn't a lot of skin actually visible on his face.

"It's already activated, so use it like a regular hammer," Jaz advised. "Just be careful, it's quite powerful." Gordon gave her a withering glance before once again closing himself inside to continue his work. If Conrad thought it strange that a dwarf was crouching inside his battered body, his ruby eyes gave no hint of it.

The next hit against the bent metal was much louder, a ringing sound accompanied by a flash of light from within. Remarkably, the impacted metal finally moved as the hammer's power began to push it back into its normal shape.

"That's more like it," Gordon's hollow voice chortled from inside. "I should get one o' these things for me own work."

"How much money do you have?" Jaz asked with a broad grin that showed brilliant white teeth against her swarthy skin.

"You finished yet?" Carthack asked in his deep, rumbling voice. "Getting cold."

"I thought your people came from a frozen wasteland," Jaz stated, as she continued her previous task of applying healing salve to Carthack's many bruises. The big man sat shirtless on a fallen log, his bulky custom-made plate armour lying around him. Great purple welts and scars were liberally scattered over his body, some a result the recent fighting, while others had been there for a long time.

"Lived in cold place, never said I liked it," Carthack pointed out in halting Aielish. Sensing an unspoken need, Aislin went and picked up some chopped wood from the pile he'd made earlier and dropped a few more pieces on the fire, next to a bubbling pot of stew. Carthack smiled in appreciation, though he obviously wanted to be done with the treatment and rugged up against the cold.

While they were busy, Aislin went to Gordon's pack nearby and pulled out a map and compass, two objects Gordon had taught her how to use when their journey began months ago. She touched a metal bracelet on her arm and whispered the magic word, 'Lux', bathing the area around her in a steady white light.

After spreading the map out over her blanket, Aislin figured out where they were and traced a path to the south.

"Are you sure we're going in the right direction?" Jaz asked when she noticed what Aislin was doing.

"Yep, south," she confirmed without looking up. It was roughly the direction she had seen the magical message paper fly when she'd pictured in her mind Madelyn Fairchild, the missing member of their little group. Just thinking of her being held captive by their enemy turned Aislin's stomach, but she comforted herself with the knowledge that they were going to rescue her. No other result was worth considering.

"You know," Jaz mused as she worked, "if we use my last piece of message paper, its magic would head straight for her and we'd know for certain what direction to travel." Aislin held perfectly still, hoping they wouldn't have this conversation quite so soon.

"I uh, actually used it already," she reluctantly confessed.

"You... stole it from my bag?" Jaz exclaimed, setting aside her salve to rifle fruitlessly through her satchel.

"I thought you weren't coming with me to rescue Madelyn," Aislin explained with a measure of guilt.

"We almost didn't," Gordon muttered as he emerged from Conrad's chest cavity. "That girl is nothin' but trouble, if ye ask me."

"What is this, 'message paper'?" Carthack asked curiously.

"It's magically enchanted paper that flies to the person you address it to," Jaz absently replied while she continued searching.

"You make it?" Carthack inquired.

"No, I found it at - uh," Jaz stammered, suddenly recalling that only she and Aislin had known about where she 'found' it. Unfortunately, in spite of Carthack's simple manner of talking, he wasn't as oblivious as they might have hoped.

"You took it from magic tower," he grumbled, "after I told you not to steal." He reached for his tunic and pulled it over his head.

"Wait, I'm not done yet," Jaz protested weakly.

"Yes, you are," Carthack sighed, his disapproval obvious.

"Don't be mad," Aislin whispered, "without that paper, I couldn't have called for help and we would have lost the fight at Aurumgaard."

"Not mad, disappointed. We talk about it some other time." Jaz had the good grace to appear guilty as she stowed the jar of salve in her satchel and slumped next to the fire.

"Well, magic paper or not, it's pretty obvious to me where Madelyn was taken," Gordon grunted. "The Kurhanir are working with King Osric, so he woulda taken her back to their capital, Ostermacht." Aislin shuddered at the mention of Osric's name, still vividly recalling their last battle against the vile former king.

Glancing down at the map, she traced her finger south until she found Ostermacht, deep in the heart of the Grand Duchy of Kurhain.

"But Ostermacht is due south of Aurumgaard, and we're heading southeast, towards Lyden," Aislin explained with her brow furrowed in confusion. Carthack peered at the map and traced a finger along the route.

"If we head south, direct to city, might run into fleeing soldiers," he rumbled. "Better to go around and come at them from different direction."

"Even if it takes longer to save Madelyn?" Aislin asked.

"Can't save her if we're caught," Jaz remarked. On a hunch, Aislin looked closer at the map and noticed there was no way for anyone to move from Kurhain to Aurumgaard without going through the Free States of Lyden, barring the use of magic of course.

"Mister MacTavish, how would Osric's army have passed through Lyden without them noticing?"

"Let me see," the engineer said as he wiped his dirty hands on a piece of cloth. As he peered down at the map, his expression darkened. "They either fought their way through, threatened the country with war if they didn't permit passage, or had consent from the government," Gordon grimly declared.

"What?" Jaz blurted in surprise. "There's no way my country would work with those scoundrels."

"Maybe, but maybe not," Gordon responded with a shrug.

"My parents have a lot of connections within the government. They'll know something about this," Jaz remarked, refusing to admit the possibility of collusion.

"Let's get there first," Carthack suggested. "Eat and rest, we have far to travel." Gordon nodded in agreement then turned his attention to the pot of stew that had been bubbling away for hours. He dished up a bowl for each of them and after her belly was full, Aislin and Keg bundled up in her blankets and stared up at the night sky. The earlier calm she had felt was gone, replaced by a gnawing worry for their missing companion.

### 1

### Prisoner

Through the carriage window, Major Maximilian Strauss watched snow drift to the ground from the iron-grey sky. As the early winter's sun dipped below the horizon, the familiar sight of the courtyard inside Fort Nordgrenze passed by. He was silently relieved to finally be at the journey's end, though his stern visage didn't reveal his inner thoughts to the other passengers. After his recent confrontation, the prospect of being intercepted by a very irate Osric Davignon, bristling with sorcerous power and a thirst for revenge, had been a genuine concern.

Max looked to his adjutant, Lieutenant Yuri Vetrov, who sat across from him in the coach's luxurious cabin. Though his plain features gave the impression of a simple man, the major had recently learned there was far more going on behind Yuri's tired grey eyes than most would suspect. At present, those eyes watched their prisoner, a young woman from the north who had recently been captured at the Battle of Aurumgaard, a fight the Grand Duchy of Kurhain had failed to win.

The woman's name was Madelyn Fairchild, which was the total sum of information they'd been able to glean from her. Her hair was dark and matted with dried blood, and what little of her face could be seen through its tangled mass was fair-skinned. She was clearly exhausted, and judging by her appearance hadn't been eating proper meals for quite some time. Yuri may have been watching her out of duty, but the poor girl was slumped against the side of the carriage, in no shape to offer any resistance or trouble.

When the finally coach lurched to a halt, Max opened the door and breathed in the brisk evening air. The fort appeared just as he'd left it - neat and orderly, as it should be.

"Double the watch for tonight, especially on my quarters," Maximilian quietly instructed Yuri. "If Osric decides to pay us a visit, I want to know about it immediately."

"We're still far below our usual complement," Yuri warned as he stepped outside. "Double shifts will have an impact on morale."

"I'll speak with the general staff about sending some reinforcements here as soon as possible, but I suspect most of our men are scattered halfway between here and Aurumgaard," Max growled. "Do what you can with what you have, then meet back at my office." Yuri snapped a salute and strode off into the freezing night to carry out his orders.

Max looked at Madelyn and pondered carrying her inside, but when he touched her shoulder she swung her handcuffed fists at his head. The blow caught the side of his face with a strength that surprised him, though it didn't last. Her lunge for the open door ended with her falling flat on the snow-covered ground, where she stayed as Maximilian left the confines of the coach.

"You desire to escape and return to your comrades," he remarked as he wiped a drop of blood from his nose. Far from being upset, he felt a spark of admiration for the attempt. "I respect that, and your tenacity, my lady. I suggest you accept my gracious hospitality for the time being, as you appear to be in no condition to fight twenty men and brave the elements on your way over the five-metre high walls. You'll have plenty of time to plan your escape as you recover from your injuries."

"Plenty of time for you to torture me for information, I suspect," Madelyn accused, speaking in almost perfect Korat, the language of Kurhain.

"You think we are barbarians?" Maximilian asked, genuinely insulted by the comment. "You have my word as an officer and a gentleman that no harm will come to you while under my care. Now, if you're quite finished acting out, there is a warm room waiting for you." He offered his hand as she rolled over to look up at him and after a few moments consideration, grudgingly accepted his help to get back on her feet. Max noticed she was shivering, so he took off his thick longcoat and draped it around her shoulders. She looked up at him without comment, though he thought he saw a moment of unspoken gratitude in her eyes.

He guided her inside and along the stone corridors, quieter than he was used to with most of his command usurped for the recent battle. They took the stairs to the upper level and arrived at Max's office, outside of which two guards were posted. Both of them saluted crisply as he approached, even though they were little more than raw recruits. The door was opened for Max and his guest and on his way past, the major gave orders for hot water, a cloth, and their evening meals to be brought in at once. Max guided the shivering woman to a comfortable sofa into which she all but collapsed.

"I must offer my apologies for our hasty flight from Ostermacht," Maximilian muttered while removing his gloves. "Given Osric's temperament, I felt returning here as fast as possible the most prudent course of action."

"It seems a little nicer than the place we stayed last night," Madelyn said in little more than a whisper, as she glanced at their surroundings. Soft orange light illuminated the room from the roaring fireplace, and although it could hardly be called warm, it was far more hospitable in here than out in the elements. "What was that place, an abandoned tool shed?"

"Something like that," Maximilian answered vaguely. "It was necessary to keep a low profile until we could get you out of the city. Be thankful I didn't decide to hide in the sewers for the night." Yuri returned at that moment, bearing a black leather satchel which he carried with the utmost care. "Do you have everything you need?" Max asked of him once the door was closed.

"This should be sufficient for the warding spell," Yuri confirmed, "though I should point out that Osric's sorcery is far more powerful than even the elders of my kith. It's entirely possible he will simply force his way past."

"Is this the best you can manage?"

"It is," Yuri answered with a nod.

"Then we will have to hope it's enough."

"I'm finding this all quite fascinating but could I get something to eat?" Madelyn rasped.

"It's on the way, my lady," Maximilian assured her as Yuri opened the satchel and took out four thin purple crystals, each roughly the size of a man's forearm. With great care, the lieutenant placed one in each of the room's four corners, then crouched in the centre to chant strange words in a low voice. When he was done, each of the crystals began to glow softly, adding an odd ambience to the dimly lit chamber.

"If I didn't know better, I would think you had just used some sort of magic," Madelyn hissed, suddenly more alert. "I thought the Kurhanir considered that a high crime."

"We do, and with good reason," Max grumbled, "but I'm starting to see the upside to it." Only two days ago, Max had learned that the lieutenant, and indeed his entire kith, practised the ancient traditions of folk magic. Learning of this secret was one thing, but it was quite another to see how easily the man, an officer of the Kurhanir army no less, went about his strange ritual. "Is it done, Yuri?"

"Yes sir," he responded, "though again, there's nothing to stop Osric simply appearing outside the room and opening the door."

"He once told me he needed to memorise something in the area, something unique," Maximilian explained, walking over to a portrait of his daughter, Gunhilde. "He focused on this picture, which I find disquieting in an assortment of ways."

"We could simply place that picture in one of our cells," Yuri suggested with dry humour.

"If only we could keep him there," Max grunted, feeling drawn and tired. Moments later, the door opened and the stewards brought in the requested food and hot water.

"That will be all, Lieutenant," Max ordered, returning a quick salute from Yuri as he departed through the open door.

"Do you expect me to eat with these on?" Madelyn rasped, jangling the cuffs around her wrists.

"It depends if you're planning to assault me again,"

"I promise to be a good little girl."

"Good enough," Max conceded, fetching the key from his pocket to unlock the manacles. The skin around her wrists was red from where they had chafed, her skin too soft for the rough life she had experienced of late.

"Please, clean yourself up and eat. You may consider this room yours for the duration of your stay. We have made it as safe as we can, given the circumstances." Madelyn rubbed her wrists, then washed her hands and turned her attention to the platter of hot food before her.

Maximilian gestured for the steward to put his meal on his desk, then instructed him to take some of the more sensitive and important documents from the room, after which the servant left the room and closed the door. Madelyn was silent as she ate, trying very hard to eat at a leisurely pace but hunger was getting the better of her. The major focused on his food for a time, enjoying the simple fare of plain bread and thick stew.

"It's very good," Madelyn remarked, pausing for breath after a few minutes of famished eating.

"Hunger is the best sauce," Maximilian responded dryly. "I'm sure you've had better in your time."

"Yes, though that's hardly the point," she answered.

"You'll find nothing better around here, my lady. I eat the same meals as my men, though some officers settle for nothing less than the finest food they can get their hands on. Times are tough in my country."

"I'm having trouble generating any sympathy for you," Madelyn drawled, with her strength starting to return. "Tell me, is there a particular reason you're planning to keep me in what appears to be your personal quarters?"

"The prison here is no place for a lady," Maximilian graciously informed her. "I doubt you'd appreciate the company downstairs, nor the accommodations."

"More conquests I presume?"

"Highwaymen for the most part, actually," Max corrected her, his eyebrow rising ever-so slightly at her implication. "We are far from the front lines in the west and south, and our closest neighbour is the Free States of Lyden, with whom we have no quarrel."

"I see. So, my presence here isn't because you're expecting certain favours from me?"

"Of course not," Max bristled, setting down his spoon and sitting bolt upright. "You may be a prisoner, but you are also my honoured guest and I would never treat -"

"I believe you," Madelyn interrupted, apparently satisfied with his answer. Max found his appetite had vanished, so he took a small piece of bread and set aside the remainder of his plate.

"When you're through with that, if you're still hungry you can have what's left of my dinner as well," he offered crisply, rising from his desk. "There is a bath just around the corner you can use to wash, and I will have fresh clothing sent to you."

"What's going to happen to me?" Madelyn asked quietly, revealing a little of the consternation she was feeling beneath her brave exterior.

"Tonight, you will rest, and tomorrow we will talk about the recent battle. You will tell me how you survived for so long, what defences the city brought to bear, what happened to my men and above all, you will tell me how we lost."

"Oh, that's easy," Madelyn answered glibly as she dabbed some bread in her stew. "We were better than you." Max's expression hardened, though he restrained himself from speaking his mind.

"Until tomorrow, I bid you good evening, my lady," he spoke carefully with a great deal of personal control. Without looking back, he left the room and locked the door behind him, heading to one of the fort's empty billets for his night's rest.

Within the darkened room, he eased off his heavy longcoat and uniform, placing the sidearm named after his deceased daughter on the night stand within easy reach. Despite their precautions, he knew it was still entirely possible for Osric to appear anywhere within the fort at a moment's notice. Maximilian settled in for a restless night with one hand resting near Gunhilde's trigger.

* * *

A stack of paperwork greeted Max the next morning, a legacy from his brief time away. A cursory examination showed that none of it was urgent, so he ignored the pile and left to check in on his guest. She was resting comfortably in the large, four-poster bed which dominated the far corner of the room, still asleep as far as he could tell. There was no sign that anything had been disturbed since the previous evening, and the guard posts reported in that all was quiet, so Maximilian assumed Yuri's little trick had worked – or Osric was in no condition to drop in for a visit.

"I wouldn't put it past the Grand Duke to have simply executed him," Yuri mused later that day as they conferred over lunch in the major's new, smaller quarters. "Better men than he have been put to death for a failure of that magnitude."

"If it were anyone else, I'd agree," Maximilian answered. "Our beloved leader appears to have a soft spot for Osric, however. While I'm sure there have been consequences to losing the battle, I'm equally certain he's still alive. I need you to head back to the capital tomorrow morning and find out what's going on, but be discreet."

"Of course, Major," Yuri assured him. "I take it you'll be entertaining our lovely guest?"

"She has answers I seek," Max confirmed as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. "I'm sorely lacking intelligence on both fronts and that has to change. Oh, I've written requisitions for you to pass on to the quartermaster general – this fort is in no shape to fight and I want that fixed as soon as possible. Hopefully, Miss Fairchild can enlighten me a little on how many of my command survived the battle. We may need to start sending out expeditions to locate survivors."

"I'll pass that on to the sergeant," Yuri answered, taking the proffered sealed documents before he saluted and left the room. The major scribbled out some notes and left a few minutes later, heading straight for his personal chambers for a chat with his guest.

"How gracious of you to knock when entering your own room," Madelyn remarked in Max's native tongue as he entered. She had bathed, washed her hair and was in the process of brushing her long, dark locks while wearing a slightly oversized bathrobe with Max's initials embroidered on the lapel. Outside, a strong wind howled through the battlements and heavy grey clouds obscured the sky.

"It wouldn't be right to simply barge in unannounced," he answered, "considering that it's your room for the foreseeable future." He noticed a slight twitch in her left eye when he spoke and made a mental note of it. "How long you will remain here is entirely up to you."

"And here comes the interrogation," Madelyn sighed.

"We're just going to talk for a while, if your strength is up to it," Max assured her as he pulled up a chair and sat opposite to her. "The winters here can be very dull and a little conversation will help pass the time. I trust you find the accommodations satisfactory?"

"It's the first time in months I've had a decent night's sleep," Madelyn reluctantly conceded as she continued brushing. Now that she was properly washed, Maximilian could see her fair features and pale skin were offset by dark patches beneath her eyes.

"It may take more than one night to recover from your ordeal, my lady. I see you're sporting an impressive number of bruises, cuts and abrasions. I never would have guessed someone like you would have been on the front line."

"It wouldn't have been my first preference, but there was little alternative," Madelyn explained. "Young, able-bodied people were in short supply so my companions and I did what we could to pick up the slack."

"Your companions, yes," Max murmured, shifting in his seat slightly. "You are the ones who defeated Osric in Aielund, and I presume you set off in pursuit, arriving in Aurumgaard shortly before Captain Drake's plans when into motion. What I don't understand is why you didn't simply leave when you had the chance."

"We didn't really have a chance," Madelyn bristled. "We damn near perished trying to get the gate closed and keep your forces out of the city."

"So that was you?"

"I helped, we all helped," Madelyn corrected him, "but it was Aislin who finally dropped the gate."

"And Aislin is... the one with an affinity for magical artifice?" Max prompted while flipping through his notes.

"No, she's just a waitress," came the reply with a hint of bemusement in her voice. "She's only thirteen, too, so I hope you're not too embarrassed at being defeated by a little girl."

"On the contrary, I applaud your resourcefulness," Maximilian replied evenly. "You should know that I neither supported nor was privy to the plans for the assault on Aurumgaard. It was all done to support Osric's claim in the north, which I believe to be a fool's errand."

"Well, that's refreshing to hear from someone I consider an enemy," Madelyn remarked, flashing a curious look at Max. Her eyes, though tired, were bright blue and she was remarkably beautiful, in a cold sort of way.

"Major, you're staring," Madelyn pointed out, breaking Max out of his introspection. He cleared his throat and shifted around on his chair to cover his embarrassment.

"What of my men?" he asked to move things forward. "How many survived and in what direction did they flee when the attack failed?"

"A good number of them remained alive at the end," Madelyn answered, letting the odd moment pass. "Perhaps as many as half of the force's original size, though it was hard to tell. Our dragon ally did a fine job carving them up." At this news, Max's mood soured instantly. His eyes glanced up to the long, curved dragon's tooth attached to the wall.

"Dragons are never allies," he warned. "Sooner or later they always look out for their own interests, their own power. You would do well to remember this should you encounter that creature again."

"Oh, so I will be freed at some point? That's an encouraging thought," Madelyn remarked lightly. "Perhaps that dragon will come and rescue me and burn this place to the ground."

"We are not inexperienced at dealing with monsters," Maximilian pointed out, gesturing to the dragon's tooth nearby. "I look forward to adding more to my collection." Madelyn seemed disturbed by the presence of the tooth and remained silent until Max spoke again.

"Tell me of Captain Drake," he inquired. "How did he die?"

"I recognised him early in the fight and sought to keep him busy enough that he couldn't effectively keep command of the battle," Madelyn explained. "We duelled for some time and though I held my own, I dare say he was better than I with the blade."

"There's no shame in admitting that," Max remarked. "He was better than me as well."

"You knew him well?" Madelyn asked.

"We were friends of a sort for many years, though I didn't really care for his haughty attitude. I suspected it would get him killed some day and it seems that was borne out."

"Quite. He paused to gloat at his imminent victory when I was at a disadvantage, and that turned out to be his undoing."

"How so?" Max pressed, suspecting she was holding something back when she appeared hesitant to answer.

"Perhaps it is better you don't know," she mused.

"My lady, please," Max insisted. "I need to know everything."

"Very well. It was at that moment that a storm of cats fell from the rafters on to the Kurhanir soldiers, granting our defenders a moment of opportunity to cut down more than half of the enemy force," Madelyn explained with deliberate malice. "The largest cat assailed your dear friend Captain Drake, distracting him long enough for me to run him through with my father's blade. He died with an expression of utter surprise stamped on his features, with my face the last thing he saw before he went straight to hell."

Max's face turned to stone as he stared at his prisoner, uncertain if she was being serious or mocking him with some kind of outlandish story.

"Isidor Drake and I may have had our differences," he finally spoke with icy calm, "but he was a comrade at arms and a captain of no small renown. I tell you this because I will not stand for you to insult his memory with such nonsense. A 'storm of cats'? Do you take me for a fool?"

"Because of your 'friend' and that bastard Osric, I was stuck in that bloody underground city for months," Madelyn snapped with as much strength as she could muster. "You'll get no sympathy from me over his death, and after what I and the others with me suffered through, I'd happily dance on his grave given the chance."

"I will not sit here and tolerate such insolence," Max bristled, standing from his chair to loom over her as the wind blustered outside. "Do not mistake your comfortable surroundings and my gentlemanly conduct as weakness on my part. I brought you here to answer my questions and to account for the loss of my countrymen, but if need be I would consider sending you to the dungeons or even bringing Osric in to interrogate you, if that's what it takes."

Madelyn, still exhausted, wilted before him as her brave facade was revealed to be skin deep. Max felt a pang of regret for letting his anger get the better of him, but she needed a reminder that she was still a prisoner.

"You sit within the belly of an impregnable fortress of the Grand Duchy of Kurhain, and although your companions fought well in the siege of Aurumgaard, you are well beyond their reach. Nothing short of a major assault could breach these walls and there are no standing armies within a hundred miles capable of such a feat."

"I urge you to co-operate fully, my lady," he continued gruffly, watching as Madelyn's fair features sank at the realisation of where she was. "In return, you will be treated well and in time, you may be allowed out of this room for short periods, under my supervision of course. I'm afraid you've exchanged one prison for anoth -"

His words were cut off when the window blew open, letting in a strong gust of freezing winter air. Max shielded his face with one hand and hurried over to close it, but just before he did, something whipped past him and shot across the room.

Once he closed the window, the wind ceased and he turned to see what had blown inside. A small dart of folded paper had lodged into Madelyn's dark hair. Tentatively, she reached up and plucked it out, then slowly unfolded it to read something upon it. Max stormed over and snatched it from her hands, suspecting some kind of trick.

Upon the small piece of paper was a single sentence, scrawled in handwriting suggesting that the author was still learning how to write properly.

It read, 'Stay strong. I'm coming for you.'

Max glanced at Madelyn and saw the message appeared to have had a profound effect upon her. The fear and exhaustion that had threatened to overwhelm her had vanished, replaced with a measure of resolve upon her fair features. Whoever had sent this message had just given her a lifeline of hope, making Maximilian's task that much harder.

"We will talk again tomorrow, and the day after that, until I have what I need," he spoke through gritted teeth. He crushed the paper in his fist and stalked out of the room, having the distinct impression the little girl named Aislin had just dealt him another defeat.

### 2

Mawgan

Aislin held perfectly still, drawing slow breaths in case the sound spooked her prey. Her breath misted in the cold air as she crouched amidst the trees, using the foliage as cover from the wary eyes of a grey hare. The animal cautiously foraged for grasses hidden beneath a thin layer of snow, slowly inching in the direction Aislin needed it to.

With her spry legs coiled beneath her, she waited a few moments longer and then sprang from cover. As expected, the hare bolted directly away from her with incredible speed and Aislin didn't pursue, fully aware that she had no chance of catching it, but that she also didn't need to.

Before the hare had run more than a dozen yards, Keg pounced from behind a tree and took it down as it tried to rush past. He seized it with his powerful little jaws, tumbling and kicking up a cloud of snow as he finished off his prey.

"Nice one, mate," Aislin called as the big ginger tom trotted towards her with his mouth clamped around the limp hare. She went to take it from him but Keg moved to keep it out of her reach. "Fine, you carry it," she muttered, "but don't think you're eating the whole thing by yourself." Keg, his intellect raised beyond any normal feline by the magic stone embedded in his collar, ignored her as he proudly headed back to camp with his prize.

High mountains loomed to the south, their peaks capped with snow. Although still at the lower altitudes, Aislin wrapped her thick winter cloak more tightly around her scrawny frame. Even the fur-lined leather pants and warm tunic weren't quite enough to keep the chill at bay. The morning was clear and bright, with hardly a breath of wind to speak of but it came after one of the coldest nights Aislin had ever experienced.

The two of them arrived at camp a few minutes later with their bounty, much to the pleasure of their companions. Keg finally relinquished the hare to Carthack who proceeded to prepare it for eating. In spite of the big man's best efforts, game had been scarce since their hasty departure from Aurumgaard a few days ago.

"We should have stocked up some more before we left," Jaz complained as she sat next to the crackling fire a little while later, impatiently watching the meat cook.

"There was hardly anything left to take," Gordon pointed out as Carthack slowly turned the spit. On a blanket before him, the dwarven engineer had laid out a number of firearms which he was cleaning with an old rag, one by one. "Besides, we had no way o' knowin' if the reinforcements comin' in from t'north were going to bring enough to feed the city. Better to leave what was left for them who live there. I figured Carth'd find enough food to keep us going, no offence, mate."

"Game scarce," Carthack rumbled. "No deer, only small animals. Mountains on edge of desert called 'Windless Plains', nothing grow there. Animals go elsewhere I think."

"Well, not to worry, Keg's got it under control," Aislin assured them, patting the ginger cat on the head. He hardly noticed, focused as he was on the rotating meat before them.

"The good news is we should be back in civilisation by the end o' the day," Gordon said, "there's a town along this trail that looks decent enough, called Mawgan. Hopefully get a night in a proper bed, with full bellies fer a change."

"I hope so," Jaz sighed wistfully as she pondered the weapons spread out before the dwarf. "Do you really need all those firearms?"

"Better to be over-prepared than under-prepared," Gordon replied sagely. "Tell me somethin', lass. This town we're goin' to, why's it not shown as bein' part of Lyden on the map?"

"They've always been independent," Jaz answered, "all the way back to when this place was held by the old Ramidian empire. Soldiers would go in and try to conquer the place and never return, so after a while, Mawgan was just left on its own."

"Well, that's ominous," Gordon remarked with a raised eyebrow.

"They don't bother anyone if nobody bothers them. We just need to get some food and rest for the night, then be on our way."

"Sounds positively charmin'," Gordon grumbled. "Remind me never to come this way ever again." Before long, they were feasting on roast meat with Keg receiving the first portion. He seemed more than happy with his cut, even though there wasn't a lot to go around. It was a light meal at best, and Carthack ate no more than the others despite being many times their size.

"I eat less, maybe shrink down to your size," Carthack suggested with a grin when Aislin pointed this out.

"I don't think it works that way," she admonished him, but they had nothing else for him to eat. It was late morning by the time they packed up and continued their journey. Both girls had strapped their packs to Conrad, who was proving to be very useful indeed. Aislin felt a bit sorry for the lumbering construct and had to keep reminding herself that not only was it immensely strong, but had no real mind of its own.

Aislin was pleased with their pace, even though part of her felt they couldn't go fast enough to reach Madelyn in time, so she distracted herself with their surroundings which, while cold and mostly barren, were beautiful in their own way. Clouds began to gather in the sky after noon as they took a break to drink and when they set out again, the wind picked up and the temperature plummeted even further.

Adding to this challenge was the ground, which had been mostly level for the past couple of days but became steep as the trail turned towards the mountains.

"We're nearing the southern end o' the Golden Peaks," Gordon shouted over the wind. "We have to go through t'mountain pass to get into the Free States, but the elevations won't be as high as further north."

"We can't be far from Mawgan," Jaz called back.

"Aye, if me bearin's are right, we're but three hours journey from rest and a proper meal."

"Three hours? I'm about done in right now," Jaz moaned.

"We might be able to get there a little quicker if we circle around further east. It's not as steep, but there's a forest called the Mawganfel we'd be travelling through."

"No no, not there," Jaz protested suddenly.

"What's wrong with it?" Aislin asked curiously.

"Oh, you know, old myths about people vanishing into the night, never to be seen again, all that sort of thing," Jaz remarked, trying to sound casual. Then her dark face brightened when an idea came to mind. "Conrad, pick me up," she instructed her silent servant. The metal construct leaned forward and scooped her up in his thick arms without any trouble, much to her delight.

"I should have thought of this hours ago," she said with a grin. Aislin smiled but looked on in jealousy, for Conrad wasn't big enough to hold both of them and their supplies.

"I carry," Carthack offered, but Aislin turned him down.

"You've hardly eaten anything for days now," she responded. "I'll be okay. Besides, you already have a passenger." Keg, as usual, was visible just inside the top of Carthack's pack, keeping warm as he dozed throughout the day. In spite of his generous offer, Carthack didn't press the issue and Aislin wondered just how he would have managed.

Onward they travelled, ascending a little more with each step. After a while the ground levelled out and plant life became a more common sight as they left the edge of the Windless Plains behind them. Finally, after nearly three hours of plodding along, the smell of wood smoke wafted through the air, carrying with it an aroma of freshly baked bread.

"Oh, that smells good," Jaz muttered dreamily. Aislin felt the same way, but Gordon seemed to keep a level head as he stepped in front of Conrad.

"Yer not takin' that thing in with us," he ordered with a raised hand. At Jaz's command, Conrad came to a halt and silently looked down at the diminutive dwarf. "This is probably a peaceful little village and we don't want Conrad thumping through their streets, scarin' folk away."

"I suppose you're right," Jaz mumbled. "Conrad, put me down." The construct complied, gently placing her on her feet. "Now go stand in amongst those trees until I call for you." Conrad lumbered over to a cluster of small trees and did as he was told, resembling a large, man-shaped boulder more than anything else. "Happy?" Jaz asked of Gordon.

"Aye, ye can come back for 'im later, once we establish our good intentions," came the answer.

"Should Carthack wait here too?" Aislin inquired, to the confused looks of her companions. "He's the same size as Conrad, covered in metal and he's all scarred and dangerous-looking. Sorry, but you are."

"I'd stopped thinking about him in those terms," Jaz pondered idly.

"He may be big and scary, but he's still a person, unlike that thing," Gordon pointed out with a glance at Conrad's immobile form.

"Hey, he can hear you," Jaz complained, though nobody paid attention.

"Can't help what I am," Carthack rumbled with an unapologetic shrug. Aislin gave him a sympathetic pat on the leg, followed by some advice.

"Maybe if you just smile and look friendly, they'll see you're a nice person under all that armour."

"Maybe take off armour?" Carthack suggested hopefully. "Hate wearing it anyway."

"We're still in the wilds, mate," Gordon warned. "Ye might regret leaving yerself vulnerable like that."

"Let's just go already, my stomach is about to eat itself," Jaz insisted weakly as an ominous gurgling noise interrupted the conversation. Mindful of their lack of supplies, they continued along the narrow path towards town and within ten minutes, were finally strolling down the main street of Mawgan.

It was a rustic little village surrounded by trees, with buildings made of rough-hewn logs taken from the local area. Stumps were evident here and there just beyond the row of houses - the remains of what used to be a thick forest which had receded as the town grew.

The simple community before her reminded Aislin of Bracksford, her home for most of her young life. The similarities between the two towns was superficial at best, but it was enough to give her pangs of homesickness she hadn't felt in months.

People walked along the street going about their daily routine, dressed in thick, homespun clothing and huddled beneath well-worn cloaks lined with fur. The men and women of Mawgan appeared fit and healthy, yet sullen and disinterested in their surroundings until Carthack loomed into view.

"Hello," he greeted them with a nod as they walked past. They didn't reply or even return the nod, preferring to hurry away or pretend to be interested in something else. Aislin was dismayed at this apparent distrust of strangers, and in spite of Carthack's best efforts to appear non-threatening, the townsfolk continued to cast fearful looks in his direction.

"It's not working," he confided to the others.

"I'm not sure it's you they're worried about, mate," Gordon remarked as he glanced around. "They don't seem pleased to see any o' us."

"I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to allay their suspicions of us," Jaz suggested, "right after we get something to eat. Oh, is that the inn? How convenient," she added, veering away from the group as if her feet had a mind of their own. Aislin's feet were also overcome with the same sudden independence, pulling her towards the large building with the enticing smell coming from within.

Upon entering the establishment, the aroma of hot food hit her like a wall. Jaz had a similar dreamy expression on her face while Aislin headed for the bar to order for everyone. She was pleased to find the locals spoke the common tongue, but with a slight accent not unlike Jaz, who referred to the Aielish tongue as 'Ramidian', alluding to a connection between the two distant countries.

The girls found an empty table and sat in anticipation of a feast, with Gordon cautiously joining them. Around them, the locals focused on their meals, barely even looking at each other and what little conversation was going on was subdued, until Carthack clanked into the room.

A hush settled over the crowd as he stood there, taking in the scene. He smiled and nodded at their blank expressions before joining his companions at the table. The chair creaked ominously beneath his weight, so he leaned over to another table where there was a spare.

"Good evening," he rumbled to the three men sitting there. "May I have?"

"Suit yourself, stranger," came the mumbled reply from a grizzle man of middle age, with pronounced white whiskers on his chin and sharp grey eyes. Carthack pulled the chair across the floor, creating an awful scraping sound that had the entire establishment staring in his direction.

"Much better," he remarked as he sat across both chairs to ease their burden. "Where food?"

"It'll be here soon," Aislin answered in a hushed voice. At the mention of food, Keg, who had slept through the entire day, climbed out of Carthack's pack and alighted on the floor. Gradually, the other patrons turned their attention back to their meals and things seemed to return to normal, except for the whiskered man who left his table and leaned on the back of Gordon's chair to quietly speak with them.

"If you're wise, you'd eat your meal and be on your way as soon as possible," he suggested in a dry voice. "Mawgan ain't a good place for stayin' the night, especially with young folk in tow."

"I'm pretty thick, when you get right to it," Gordon responded without looking up. "Would ya care to elaborate on yer subtle threat?"

"No threat, just some friendly advice."

"Yeah, yer all kinds o' nice," Gordon snorted. "We'll be fine, mate." The grizzled man eased back from the chair and gave them a curt nod before heading out the door.

"I don't like this, not one bit," Gordon muttered under his breath once the room had returned to normal. "I was hoping fer a little music, or anything except strained silence or threats. What's with the odd reception?"

"They might be scared of soldiers," Aislin remarked quietly, knowing exactly what that felt like.

"Soldiers? Us?"

"Carthack is wearing armour and you're laden with firearms," Jaz pointed out. "What are they supposed to think?"

"After the last few months, can you blame me fer wantin' some extra protection?" Gordon grumbled as their food arrived. "But yeah, I take yer point. Let's eat and keep a low profile overnight. I want to be gone from 'ere before sunrise."

There was no answer to his comment, for everyone's mouths were already full. The inn had provided two roast chickens, potatoes and gravy, and a whole loaf of fresh, hot bread. Carthack was making fast work of an entire chicken while the others divided up the other one. It was succulent and juicy, the finest meal Aislin had eaten in months. It wasn't until their bellies were full that anyone bothered to try and start a conversation.

"We'll be crossing the border into Lyden tomorrow," Gordon said as he licked the last of the gravy from his fork. "Where should we go from there?"

"Decklyn is the closest city to Mawgan, on the other side of the mountains," Jaz answered. "It's my home town, too. My parents' house is on the western side of the city so that should be our next stop."

"You recently said they had 'connections'," Aislin reminded her. "What does that mean?"

"They're prominent members of society who know important people," Jaz clarified. "If there's anything going on between Kurhain and Lyden, they'll know about it," she added with a sideways glance at Gordon.

"They're either working together or Lyden has been conquered by the Kurhanir," Gordon responded firmly. "Ain't no way an army marches through someone else's country, lass."

"We'll see about that," Jaz stubbornly answered. Aislin had listened to their conversation while finishing off her meal, enjoying the feeling of a full stomach for the first time in weeks. Keg was sprawled on floor, partially hidden beneath the table and half asleep after eating his fill. Aislin leaned down to give his round tummy a rub, then noticed Carthack was quietly scrutinising people throughout the common room.

"What's wrong?" Aislin whispered to him.

"Everything," he answered in similarly hushed tones.

"That seems like a bit of an overstatement," Jaz scoffed. "You don't think you're blowing things out of proportion? So what if a few people are a bit intimidated by you? Try not to take it personally."

"Not that," Carthack rumbled. "I know fear, and many people here stink of it."

"Whaddya mean?" Gordon asked warily, casually glancing around at the other patrons.

"Look at their faces. How they move. Many are afraid, and others trying to seem casual but not doing very good job."

Aislin looked around with a fresh perspective, and with this new information she noticed exactly what he was talking about.

"When we came into town, we thought people were avoiding us," she whispered to the others, "but what if they were avoiding some people in amongst them? People who aren't supposed to be here?"

"Like who?" Jaz asked with rising anxiety.

"Some of these blokes are pretty bloody big," Gordon muttered. "I thought they was just workin' men, but now that I think about it..."

"They could be soldiers, pretending to be villagers," Aislin whispered harshly under her breath, with one hand inching towards the hilt of Sliver, the deadly knife tucked beneath her jacket.

"They didn't speak to us either," Jaz mused, pondering this for a moment before leaning over to one of the other tables. A burly man with an unshaven chin appeared to be focusing on his meal, but he was eating it very slowly and every few seconds seemed to glance in their direction.

"Pardon me, could you pass the salt?" Jaz asked him, which he all but ignored except for a disinterested look at her. Not to be deterred, Jaz spoke again, but this time in Korat, the tongue spoken by the people of Kurhain. To Aislin's dread, the man replied in the same tongue before realising he shouldn't have done that.

"They're bloody Kurhanir," Gordon cried as a dozen men clothed as villagers scrambled to their feet and reached beneath their tunics for hidden weapons. A cry of alarm went up from one of the soldiers, an alert easily heard outside the inn to any nearby soldiers. More than half of the people in the common room were ordinary villagers and they ran for the door in panic, stumbling over the Kurhanir and creating chaos in their ranks.

Carthack, already on the alert, sprang into motion at the same time, tipping over the table and pulling Aislin and Jaz behind it. Gordon drew one of his sidearms but two of the closest soldiers had been sitting at the next table and were already on top of him. Gordon's weapon was knocked out of his hand and he took a heavy blow to the face, sending him tumbling over his chair.

With the two girls safely behind cover, Carthack punched the soldier hard in retaliation, then grabbed the man next to him and threw him into the wall. There were plenty more to take his place so Carthack moved into a clear space to meet them head on. They came at him in threes, with knives flashing and fists flying.

Aislin drew Sliver from its sheath and peered around the corner of the table, gasping at the sight of so many moving on Carthack. Those able to get in close enough to use their blades found their sharp points turned aside by his heavy armour, quickly followed by a punch to the face. A resounding 'boom' filled the room as Gordon, still lying on the floor, shot one of the Kurhanir in the side.

Not to be outdone, Jaz reached into her satchel and withdrew a small glass vial which she promptly threw into the centre of the room where it exploded with considerable force, toppling three soldiers onto their backs with smoke pouring from their smouldering clothes.

In spite of their best efforts, the sudden appearance of more soldiers bursting in through the door caused the tiny flicker of hope welling in Aislin's chest to wither. There were simply too many of them and as she watched in dismay, four of their strongest men piled on top of Carthack, pulling him down under their sheer weight of numbers.

"Run," Aislin hissed at Keg, giving him a shove when it became clear they weren't getting out of this one. The cat gave her a quick look then bolted across the floor and leaped out of an open window. The soldiers didn't pay him any heed, focused as they were on the real threats. Half a dozen sidearms were levelled at Gordon and Carthack who, still weak from not eating enough lately, was struggling under the weight of four men.

The ranks of soldiers parted and one of them stepped forward, a man with a neatly-trimmed moustache and iron-grey hair. He wore simple villager's clothes as well, but beneath them Aislin saw a glimmer of armour. She'd seen enough of the Kurhanir of late to recognise an officer when she saw one, and the surrounding men waited patiently for his orders before taking further action.

The officer looked down at the soldier Gordon had shot at point-blank range, a young man with a square jaw who lay there unmoving in a pool of his own blood. The officer's eyes narrowed in cold rage at the sight and without a word, he stepped forward and brought the hilt of his sidearm down on Gordon's head. Aislin gasped as he cried out in pain and slumped to the ground unconscious, with a line of blood trickling from his temple.

"I recognise you," the officer said in heavily accented Aielish as he looked to Carthack. "I fought on the front line at the Battle of Aurumgaard and watched you slaughter my men."

"Missed some," Carthack growled, only to receive a punch to his face from one of the soldiers. He bore it without complaint while his amber eyes stared unspoken insults at the officer.

"I am Castor Ukrit, formerly a Lieutenant in the service of His Grace the Grand Duke of Kurhain," he announced.

"Deserters," Jaz whispered to Aislin, which Castor overheard.

"I take no pleasure in the fact," he responded. "The battle was devastating to our forces and quite frankly, my men and I had endured quite enough of that pointless siege. I respect the defence you and your dwarven allies put together and I would have been quite happy never meeting any of you ever again, but your arrival in town has changed matters."

"Can I tend to his injury?" Jaz asked meekly, looking to Gordon's prone form.

"You may not," Castor answered curtly. "I shall take some small pleasure in watching him slowly die. I would also put a few bullets into your large friend here but he may yet be of some use to us."

"Never help," Carthack rumbled ominously, still looking for a chance to restart the fight.

"If you're going to be difficult, I shall hasten your friend's demise," Castor assured him, raising a sidearm to point directly in Gordon's direction. Carthack slumped a little at this gesture, realising all too well that he was at the mercy of the deserters.

"That's more like it," Castor murmured, lowering his weapon.

"What have you done to the people of this town?" Aislin blurted, concerned what these soldiers had been up to during their stay.

"Very little, I assure you," Castor replied easily. "In fact, they've been of great service to us, providing us with a crowd in which to blend and disappear. I hadn't planned on staying here long, in case our former comrades come looking for us, but my men need supplies before I decide where to go next."

"So, you're robbing them of food?" Aislin pressed.

"We are men of honour, not thieves," Castor growled. "At least, not yet. There are legends about this place, you know, stories that our generous hosts have confirmed of a treasure that exists within the forest to the east, enough for us to start up as a mercenary company and head north. The trouble is, the forest here has quite a reputation for taking lives. Few go in there and return, it is said. The locals barely even want to talk about it, despite my efforts to coerce the truth out of them. I was about to send some men on an expedition into the forest, but now, things have changed."

Castor's leather boots creaked as he crouched low and looked Carthack straight in the eye. "You're going in our place, and if you don't, your dwarven friend dies and the townsfolk will suffer."

### 3

### Questions

Maximilian knocked twice and waited for an answer before entering his own office, quietly closing the door behind him.

"I trust you are decent?" he called to the washroom when it became apparent his guest wasn't in the immediate area.

"Would it even matter?" Madelyn scoffed as she emerged, wearing an ill-fitting gown he'd provided for her. It might have once belonged to his wife, though he didn't recall her ever wearing it.

"Of course it matters," Max retorted. "A gentleman does not simply walk in on a lady who is indisposed."

"Most becoming of you, sir," she teased, appearing far more at ease than she had for the first few days of her confinement.

"I trust you are finding these chambers comfortable?" Max inquired.

"I'm certainly not complaining, though the clothes leave something to be desired."

"We're not exactly accustomed to the company of high-born women here. I would send a requisition for some new garments for you, but I fear it would attract the wrong sort of attention."

"Mores the pity I suppose," Madelyn mused with a hint of a smile. "So, shall we proceed with today's interrogation? I've all sorts of terrible secrets waiting to be uncovered."

"You're in a sanguine mood, my lady," Max remarked as he walked over to the window and made sure it was firmly secure this time. Through the glass he could see a steady fall of snow obscuring the view of the courtyard as winter tightened its grip on the land. "To what do I owe this sudden burst of optimism?"

"I've simply come to accept my circumstances as they are and not worry about things I cannot change," Madelyn explained glibly as Max gestured for her to take a seat opposite his desk. "So, I'm going to relax, enjoy these modestly comfortable surroundings and wait for the day when the knock on that door is one of my companions come to rescue me."

"Ah, indulging in fantasy I see," Maximilian murmured as he sat across from her, journal and ink pen at the ready.

"Soon enough, it will be all too real for you," Madelyn assured him with a delicate laugh.

"These companions, the ones to which you attribute your imminent salvation," Max continued smoothly, "tell me more about them. The scattered reports I've heard suggest they turned the tide of battle against us. One in particular stands out, a giant of a man wielding a sledge."

"That would be Carthack Valdis," Madelyn confirmed, her voice softening a little as she said his name. Max made a note of this in his journal, suspecting there may be something between the two. "'Giant' isn't far off the mark – he's roughly eight and a half feet tall and half that across. I couldn't even guess how much he'd weigh, though its pure muscle, I assure you."

"Your archaic measurements sometimes confuse me," Max remarked in exasperation.

"Forgive me, I forgot you have your own bizarre system down here. That would be roughly two and a half 'metres'."

"Difficult to believe," Maximilian muttered, making a note of this information, adding that she was most likely exaggerating Carthack's dimensions in order to intimidate him.

"Who are you getting these reports from?" Madelyn asked curiously.

"Two men from my command finally returned, exhausted and starving, but alive," he answered. "They are recovering and have informed me of a few salient points about the battle so far. I don't suppose you could shed some light on the final minutes? How many of the Kurhanir forces do you believe escaped?"

"It was difficult to tell in the twilight conditions," Madelyn answered after taking a moment to consider what she'd seen. "Perhaps four dozen, though some of them were still on fire after battling the dragon."

"Yes, you've mentioned that before," Maximilian responded blandly.

"For what it's worth, I do hope you manage to recover your men," Madelyn offered sincerely, "and I also hope your people have learned that nothing good comes from dealing with Osric Davignon."

"Thank you for expressing your concerns," Max spoke crisply, unwilling to discuss sensitive matters with her any longer. "So, getting back to this 'Carthack' fellow - I gather he is not altogether human?"

"He calls his race the Escardi," Madelyn continued with a nod. "Survivors of a world far bleaker than I'd care to repeat here, though he seems human enough. Suffice it to say that every day was a struggle and those skills, honed from years of conflict, were brought to bear against your forces. I'm sorry to say he took many lives single-handedly, though not as sorry as you'd like me to be."

"Quite," Max growled under his breath while he wrote that down.

"You're upset with me?"

"I'm upset with the man who stole my command out from under me on a foolish quest to assault a mountain fortress that has yet to fall to a siege," Max clarified, dipping his pen in a vial of ink. "This whole war could have been avoided or at least delayed if..." his voice cut off when he realised she was probing him for information just as he was questioning her.

"Go on," she prompted with an angelic smile.

"At the Battle of Aurumgaard," he said, gruffly steering the topic back on track, "there was a siege golem of exceptional size. You might have seen it."

"I did," Madelyn confirmed. "Do you mind if I fetch something to drink?"

"Help yourself," Max replied absently. "I was certain the contraption would have won the battle for us, yet by my estimation it was destroyed. Can you shed some light on this?"

"It was destroyed by the intervention of our own golem," Madelyn answered as she poured a glass of wine from a carafe, then offered one to Max.

"No, thank you," he declined. "Where on earth did you obtain your own golem?"

"It was pieced together over the course of several weeks by another of my companions, Jaz Katan," Madelyn answered. "An insufferable girl, far too intelligent for her complete lack of common sense, yet I cannot deny she is talented. In addition to creating a superior construct which, along with our own firearms, defeated yours, she also enchanted my blade so that I could face Osric in a duel."

"You fought him?" Max snapped, his pen paused in mid-air as he focused his attention fully upon her.

"Yes," she stammered, taken aback with his sudden intensity.

"I've seen his sorcerous blade slice through iron like it was butter," Max growled softly. "How on earth were you not cut down within seconds?"

"Like I said, Jaz enhanced my father's blade with enough power to withstand Osric's weapon for a time."

"Were you able to injure him also?"

"I believe I did score more than one hit upon him, yes," Madelyn replied cautiously. The pen in Max's hand dripped ink onto the page below, which he hardly noticed.

"Did you draw blood?" he pressed.

"I... I'm not certain," she answered honestly.

"Where is this weapon?"

"It was destroyed when the enchantment's power ebbed," Madelyn responded, scrutinising Max with sharp blue eyes. "Do you have a particular interest in seeing Osric's blood?"

"Never mind," Max answered gruffly, unable to hide his disappointment. A weapon that could pierce Osric's defensive magic was worth its weight in gold a hundred times over. "So, you are uncertain whether or not he was even harmed with this blade of yours?"

"He was injured by the end of the fight, but I can't be sure I had anything to do with that."

"How can you not know?"

"Because Gordon MacTavish also played a hand in Osric's defeat, using a powerful firearm of his own design."

"MacTavish," Maximilian purred, setting down the pen.

"Yes, the inventor of those weapons your people are so proud of," Madelyn explained. "Half the reason we travelled south from Aielund was to discover who had stolen his designs. I think you might owe him quite a bit of money."

"I recently uncovered blueprints for these weapons with writing in what I believe to be dwarven, with the name 'MacTavish' scrawled upon them," Max confided. "Prior to this discovery, Osric purported to have designed these weapons himself."

"Osric couldn't invent his way out of a room with an open door," Madelyn laughed caustically. "He's a lazy, spoilt child in way over his head. My friends are coming for him and if I were you, I wouldn't stand in their way."

"That 'spoilt child' you so readily mock is in possession of ancient power we've not seen since the fall of our nation's original homeland," Maximilian warned.

"Which begs the question of 'why on earth are your people associating with this monster?'" Madelyn inquired with a raised eyebrow. "Of all the nations in this land, yours is the least likely to forge such a dark alliance."

"Were it my decision, we would never have done so," Max assured her as he delicately set his pen down. "Far be it for me to question my superiors, but the Grand Duke seems to have a soft spot for waylaid royalty, something his family has experience with. He's also feeling the pressure to produce lasting victories in our ongoing struggle with the remnants of the Holy Ramidian Empire, and these weapons are supposed to deliver that."

"So, he made a pact with a man bereft of morality in a quest for power," Madelyn surmised. "How fitting. You seem to be quite the gentleman so don't take this personally, but I hope both of them get what's coming to them."

"I'll omit that statement from my report, for your benefit," Max blandly remarked. "As for the morality of His Grace, if you knew anything of the Ramidians you wouldn't be so quick to judge our desire to vanquish them once and for all."

"Yes, I'm sure the Kurhanir are flawless and angelic by comparison," Madelyn chided sarcastically.

"I'm making no such claim, my lady," Max informed her politely. "The Ramidians enslaved their captured enemies and those who broke the law. If you want to learn what it's like to live under such conditions, talk to the people in Lyden – they have entire libraries dedicated to remembering their long years of indentured servitude."

"I'll make a point to visit when I'm free," Madelyn answered wryly.

"Still burgeoning with confidence," Maximilian remarked with a measure of respect. "Granted, your large 'escardi' friend is a formidable warrior, and the construct Ms. Katan assembled is a force to be reckoned with, but even with the aid of modern firearms, your rescuers will simply be outnumbered and outmatched. Which leads me to my next question. This Aislin Ballard you've mentioned briefly, you said that she is a waitress?"

"Was, yes," Madelyn corrected.

"Is she the one who wears an amber coloured dress?"

"Yes, why?" Madelyn asked, her brown creasing slightly in confusion.

"While you have been rather dismissive of her contribution to your little company," Maximilian went on, "Osric has spoken of her vehemently. She's only thirteen, you've said, yet she appears to have caught his attention quite firmly and I cannot fathom how."

"Aislin is a clever little thing, I'll give her that," Madelyn explained cautiously. "She has no special powers aside from a sharp knife and an angry cat. Who can say why Osric hates her so?"

"You. You can say," Max pointed out, rapidly losing patience.

"It's quite possible she's a lot smarter than he is, and Osric knows this," Madelyn mused.

"So, you believe her intelligence to be her greatest asset, in spite of one of your other companions literally building a large metal war machine out of scraps?"

"I'm not sure what else to tell you," Madelyn answered with a shrug. "Aislin really isn't that remarkable."

"Yet you feel it was appropriate to bring this 'unremarkable child' with you on a perilous journey?" Max remarked incredulously. "You're either clueless as to her true nature, or grossly irresponsible and madam, I do not think you are clueless."

"I guess I'm just a terrible person," Madelyn responded dryly. Max shook his head in dismay as he scribbled down more notes on to the page, going into further detail from all he'd gleaned from the interrogation. After a minute or so of silence broken only by the scratching of pen on paper, Madelyn quietly asked a question of her own.

"What happened to your people's original homeland?"

"Hm?" Max mumbled absently, still focused on his work.

"You mentioned earlier that sorcery was involved in the downfall of your homeland. I was curious to know more."

"I'm the one asking questions here, my lady," he answered a little more sternly than intended.

"Oh do come along now, Major," Madelyn teased, not intimidated by his brusque manner. "We've plenty of time to waste on idle chit-chat. There's nothing else for me to do here, except stare winsomely out the window at my terrible plight and pray a brave and handsome knight comes to my rescue." In spite of his best efforts, Max actually laughed briefly at this little joke.

"You have a singular sense of humour, madam," he complimented her.

"At least you appreciate it," she responded ruefully. "My subtleties are usually wasted on others." Max set his pen aside and leaned back in his chair, gathering his thoughts.

"I don't suppose our history books are widespread throughout Feydwiir. We are thought of as invaders, barbarians from across the sea who have come to conquer the land and few would be interested in our motives, present company excepted."

"Go ahead and fascinate me," Madelyn teased, staring at him with bright blue eyes.

"We came here to survive, plain and simple," Maximilian explained. "Our homeland, Zarahus, used to be lush and green and our various kith thrived and expanded over the centuries."

"Kith?" Madelyn asked.

"I suppose you would call them 'extended families', or 'clans'," Max answered. "Each of them had a speciality, a purpose which added to the whole of society. My kith are the Valkre, the administrators and leaders who made sure everything ran efficiently. My lieutenant, Yuri Vetrov, is from the most numerous kith who were the last to join our society and brought with them many ancient practices and traditions which, to this day they still maintain."

"And what of Captain Drake? Where does someone like that fit into your grand scheme?"

"They weren't part of our civilisation until we came to these shores," Max confided, eyeing the bottle of wine Madelyn had opened earlier. "This land we now call Kurhain used to be Soljan, a province of the old Ramidian Empire. Captain Drake is descended from those who broke away from the corrupt and rotting husk of their ancient empire and joined with us, effectively handing over most of this territory after only a week of fighting."

"Turncoats, then," Madelyn remarked, noticing his look and moving to the bottle of wine. "How fitting." Max ignored the insult directed once again at Isidor Drake's memory, seeing nothing further to be gained from punishing Madelyn again. She handed him a glass filled with fragrant red liquid and returned to her seat.

"When we came here, we left a civilisation in ruins," he continued after taking a sip. "We were no match for our neighbours to the south, so we looked across the sea and found a verdant land dominated by a decaying empire, ripe for the taking."

"You're glossing over the most important detail," Madelyn pointed out. "What caused such a calamity?"

"Years earlier, one of the mining kith uncovered a vast underground edifice, pre-dating our own by several thousand years," Max went on. "They uncovered buried relics of curious design and gave them to another kith renowned for their knowledge of the arcane, known as the Pasantae. It took decades to understand what they had found, but when they finally unlocked the secrets of their discovery, our world changed."

"The exact details are unknown to me, but after a few weeks of demonstrating the tremendous power of their relics to build and create, a series of devastating eruptions twisted the landscape, culminating in a shaft of light from the heavens which burned half of the country to ash. There's a painting of the event hanging in the Grand Duke's study actually. A man named Ekain Vicario holding before him a staff, silhouetted against a storm of fire."

"I take it he did not survive," Madelyn surmised cynically.

"He was the first to go, as you'd expect. Most of the Pasantae were wiped out in the initial devastation, along with several members of the royal family. Drawing the conclusion that either treachery or incompetence led to our downfall, the Kaiser ordered the remainder of the Pasantae executed and forbade the use of magic on penalty of death. With the country in ruins, unable to grow the food we would need to survive, Kaiser Hirsch himself led the charge across the sea."

"And died shortly thereafter, if I recall correctly," Madelyn mused thoughtfully.

"So, you've studied our history that much, at least,"

"Just the broad strokes," Madelyn conceded with a sip of wine. "I learned a little while studying your language, though it never touched upon why the invasion began."

"We prefer the term 'liberation' actually," Max remarked delicately.

"I imagine most conquerors do," Madelyn teased with a smile. Max's retort was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"If you're interested in learning more, I'll dig out one of my old history books for you," the major suggested as he headed for the door. "It might give you a little more perspective. What is it, Private?" he asked of the man at the door, who snapped to attention at the sight of his commanding officer.

"Spotters have reported a coach from Ostermacht will be arriving shortly, sir," the young soldier informed him.

"I'll be down presently," Max responded as he reached for his longcoat. "Though this has been an enjoyable time, I regret work must intrude, my lady."

"Thank goodness, I couldn't bear another minute of such ruthless interrogation," Madelyn remarked sarcastically as she reached for the bottle of wine. Max's grim features creased in a brief grin as he reached for the notes he'd taken and folded them into his coat pocket.

"Until next time," he responded with a slight bow of his head, silently pleased at both what he'd learned from her, and for the pleasure of her company. Without further delay, he departed and headed downstairs to greet their new arrival. The sun had recently set, leaving the snow-covered ground of the fort's courtyard lit only by an array of torches along the stone walls. The coach was just pulling up as Maximilian's boots crunched over the frozen ground. Steam wafted from the horse's bodies, a sign they had been ridden hard.

Sensing a measure of urgency, Max strode briskly to the coach and as soon as it came to a halt, the door opened and Yuri emerged, clad in a heavy grey longcoat - his breath misting in the cold evening's air.

"Welcome back, Lieutenant," Max greeted him with an outstretched hand. "How was your week?"

"Productive, Major," Yuri answered in his laconic way as he firmly shook hands. "I have good news and bad. As is customary, you get to choose which to hear first."

"I could use some good news," Max answered gruffly.

"We have a reduced company of reinforcements on the way, veterans from the west who were expecting leave but will find themselves posted here, which I'm sure they'll be very enthusiastic about."

"Exactly how 'reduced' are they?" Max asked suspiciously.

"Twenty-seven from their usual number of eighty-five," Yuri explained, "of which half are wounded from recent skirmishes." Max stifled a curse, hoping for more but having to settle for whatever dregs His Grace could send their way.

"I suppose it'll have to do," he growled, gesturing for them to head inside. "Wait, if that's the good news, what's the bad new?"

"I had company on my return trip," Yuri muttered, turning at the sound of the door on the other side of the coach shutting. Boots crunched ominously on the snow in a strange, limping cadence that piqued Max's curiosity. He was caught completely off-guard when Osric emerged into the light.

"You," the major snarled, his hand instantly reaching for the hilt of his sidearm. Yuri's arm shot out to prevent Max from drawing the weapon as Osric Davignon, leaning heavily on a wooden cane, hobbled forward to stand before him.

"He is here with the consent of the Grand Duke," Yuri warned, drawing a look of disbelief from Maximilian.

"And good evening to you as well, Major," Osric drawled in a tired voice.

"What are you doing here?" Max growled, finally removing his hand from the hilt of Gunhilde.

"Attempting to redeem myself in the eyes of your esteemed ruler," Osric answered. "I regret springing this surprise on you Major and your reaction is quite understandable, but I assure you, I am not here to cause trouble. In fact, had I been able to teleport here I could have saved your Lieutenant and I a long and tiring journey."

"How unfortunate," Max replied unapologetically. "Perhaps your injuries are hampering your... 'talents'."

"I think it more likely you've found a way to stop me appearing here at will," Osric mused. "Although such a feat would be beyond a simple soldier, I do wonder about the company you keep. So would His Grace, actually."

"Grand Duke Lothar seems far more understanding about people in his midst performing magic these days," Maximilian suggested casually, though his voice still had an edge to it. The two men stared daggers at each other until Yuri stepped in before it came to blows.

"Perhaps I should escort His Majesty to his room?" the lieutenant prompted.

"Why exactly are you here?" Max reiterated, barely noticing Yuri had even spoken.

"I'm going to speak with my – your prisoner and if she is uncooperative, I shall take her with me back to Ostermacht for a more thorough interrogation."

"I will consider your request," Max answered coldly.

"I believe it is an order, Major," Osric corrected.

"My orders come from the general staff, not a foreign ruler. But out of respect for His Grace, I will accommodate you to some degree. Here's how this is going to work - you will stay here for one day to verify that I am making good progress with the prisoner, and then you will return without her to convey my report to my superiors."

"Do I look like an errand boy, sir?" Osric spat, unable to conceal his outrage.

"That's exactly what you look like, and if you don't like it, by all means complain to the Grand Duke and see what happens," Max challenged. "Take him to quarters suitable for his new station in life, Lieutenant. Post guards outside and inform them that His Majesty the errand boy isn't to go anywhere without their supervision. He is not to go anywhere near the prisoner without my presence, am I clear?"

"Very clear, sir," Yuri answered with a salute. "Majesty, if you would follow me?"

Osric remained silent and unmoving for a moment before he nodded and slowly hobbled towards the inviting warmth of the nearby door. Before Yuri followed, he reached into his coat and withdrew a pair of envelopes. Even in the dim conditions, Max could see one of them was marked with the royal seal.

"Messages from the capital, Major," Yuri explained as he handed them over.

"Don't take your eyes off him," Max quietly suggested. Yuri nodded thoughtfully and turned to follow their latest guest into the keep, while the major opened the first envelope and headed inside.

This one was an update on the reinforcements and supplies he could expect over the course of the next week, along with a request for the usual reports as to the fort's status. He pocketed it for later perusal and tore open the other message which was most likely an explanation of the 'situation' from the Grand Duke.

Maximilian wasn't far off the mark, but it turned out to be much more than that. Max had been given complete command of the northern force once again and this time, they were going to actually listen to his advice.

"About bloody time," he murmured to himself in satisfaction. Unfortunately for them, he had little left to command. Max headed to his quarters and was about to toss the envelopes away when he noticed a second piece of paper within. Curious, he unfolded it and by the light of his crackling fireplace, read a message from the Grand Duchess Frieda herself.

"My dear Maximilian, what I write here must remain a secret between you and I, for should my involvement on this issue become known, it could cause irreparable damage within the ranks of our nobility. As to our last conversation, I am pleased to report that in spite of Osric's arrival on your doorstep, his influence in the capitol has evaporated after his recent defeat."

"Regrettably, my husband maintains his support and I cannot push him any further just yet. He has given Osric one last chance and should he fail again, I am confident I can nudge Lothar to tell our guest that he has overstayed his welcome."

"The time will soon come, Major, when you will be able to act in an 'appropriate manner' to tip the scales in our favour. You will know when the time is right."

Max read it twice more to make sure he gleaned the exact meaning from every word, knowing what was at stake. Once he was certain he understood what was required of him, Maximilian crumpled up the note and tossed it into the fire, watching as the paper burned while his mind began to formulate options to carry out her will.

### 4

### Mawganfel

Aislin and Jaz were roughly shoved through the doorway into a small dark room with two narrow beds. The door behind them slammed shut and the sound of the lock tumbling meant this quaint inn room was actually their cell for the night. Aislin put her ear against the door but heard only the sound of retreating footsteps and muffled conversation from the common room. Although she couldn't make out the words, Carthack's distinctive rumble indicated he wasn't happy with their captors.

Exhausted from the long day and despondent from the turn of events, Jaz collapsed onto a bed and before long, Aislin slumped onto the other.

"What are we going to do?" Jaz whispered, uncertain if they were being overheard by the guards. Aislin stared up at the ceiling, barely visible in the room lit only by moonlight coming in through the window. She turned and looked at it, thinking for a moment they might be able to climb through it, but the place had been prepared in advance – planks of wood had been hastily nailed into place, blocking most of the window except for a few cracks here and there.

"They've boarded the place up," Aislin sighed. "We're not getting out that way,"

"Even if we could, it's freezing out there," Jaz responded, "and getting away does nothing to help Carthack or poor Gordon. Do you think he'll survive the night?"

"I hope so," Aislin murmured. "He's a tough little bloke. Look, we're not out of options yet. I've still got Sliver hidden beneath my jacket."

"It's a nasty blade but you can't fight all of them," Jaz pointed out.

"We'll think of something," Aislin assured her. "If we don't, Carthack's going to be forced into that forest tomorrow morning. We're not far from your homeland – do you know anything about it?"

"Plenty," Jaz answered with an audible shudder. "The place has quite a reputation in this region, going back to just after the founding of Lyden. Most of the towns had been damaged or even destroyed as my people fought for their freedom from the old empire and once they got it, they needed to rebuild. That meant finding lots of lumber, and the forest here in the mountains had plenty of that."

"A small army of lumberjacks went to work, clearing space for a new settlement from which to operate here in the mountains. Dustan Mawgan was the name of the man leading the operation, and it was customary at the time for towns and cities throughout Lyden to be named after the people who were leaders during the war."

"After a few months, workers in the deeper parts of the forest started to disappear without a trace. Rumours spread of strange occurrences and the people started to leave in droves."

"What sort of occurrences?" Aislin asked curiously.

"Strange lights in the forest, often accompanied by screams," Jaz whispered. "Lyden still needed the materials so, suspecting there was some kind of monster picking off their workers, the military sent in a company of soldiers to sort it out. They were never heard from again."

"Not even one got out?" Aislin asked in a hushed voice.

"That's how the legend goes," Jaz confirmed. "Mawgan had finally had enough of demands coming in from the capitol so he told them that nobody else was going into the deep forest, which was even then being called the Mawganfel – a place of bad magic. Now the people just live with the strangeness of the place, staying well clear of danger and even learning to embrace their reputation."

"How so?"

"Well, I read that one time, years ago, an army of savages was coming in from the north from the wastes to raid Lyden for supplies," Jaz went on, seeming to enjoy telling stories to take their minds off their problems. "Some warlord had gathered together a thousand men and horses and were heading this way. The town's guard captain learned about this from her scouts and came up with a clever way of luring the army into the Mawganfel."

"What happened?" Aislin asked, wondering what fate might lie in store for Carthack.

"They were never seen again," Jaz answered, repeating the common result of anyone venturing into that forest. "A few foresters scouting the perimeter around the dangerous part came across some armour, weapons and other equipment, just lying on the ground with no sign of damage, or bodies for that matter."

"Wait, Castor said there was some sort of treasure in the forest," Aislin reminded her. "How does he or anyone else know that if nobody ever comes out of there alive?"

"Over a thousand people have gone in there over the years," Jaz responded. "If the monster that lives in there just eats bodies and leaves their equipment, then all of the money they were carrying is just lying around in the forest, waiting to be picked up. Along with bits and pieces of decent equipment, it could be worth a small fortune, if anyone was able to make it out of there, of course." Aislin was silent after Jaz had finished, giving the issue some thought until an unavoidable fact dominated her thoughts.

"Carthack is going to be forced to go there tomorrow," she whispered soberly.

"I don't know what we can do to stop it," Jaz mumbled tiredly.

"You have to bring Conrad here," Aislin begged. "He might be strong enough to fight these horrid men."

"He's a little too far away to call," Jaz sighed. "Even if I could lean out the window and shout at the top of my lungs."

"Then we need to get you out of here so you can go fetch him," Aislin suggested firmly.

"Maybe if I ask them really nicely they'll let me go get my metal fighting machine to beat them up with," Jaz snapped sarcastically. Aislin let it slide, for she knew they were both too tired.

"Don't worry about them," she promised. "I'll make sure you have a chance to get away. Let's get some sleep, but when the time comes tomorrow morning, run for the kitchens. This inn seems to be similar to my home at Bracksford, so they'll have a back door to the place you can use to get away."

"What are you going to do, Ace?" Jaz asked quietly.

"We'll find out tomorrow," she answered, lying down on the bed. Jaz did the same and in spite of their stressful predicament, her exhaustion quickly overcame her. Aislin took much longer to drop off, worried as she was for Gordon and Carthack. Just before she was about to nod off, the sound of scratching could be heard from beneath the floorboards, along with the faint sound of a cat meowing.

"Keg, is that you?" Aislin whispered, scratching the floor briefly, with an answering scratch coming through.

"I'm sorry mate, I can't let you in," she said, wishing she could bundle up with the big warm cat. "Don't stray too far, we might need you tomorrow."

Keg mewed in reply and went silent, leaving Aislin to ponder what she was going to do in the morning.

* * *

Used to waking at the crack of dawn, Aislin wasted no time in getting up and preparing to make her move. She drank some water and ate some stale bread she found on the night stand, then nudged Jaz awake and together, they waited for their captors to arrive. Aislin's hand rarely strayed far from Sliver's hilt and her palms were moist at the thought of what she was going to attempt.

Not long after the sun came up, the sound of booted footsteps could be heard approaching down the hallway. The door was unlocked and opened moments later, revealing one of the tall, grim men who were holding the town hostage. Upon spotting the two girls already awake, he barked out a command in his native tongue and pointed down the hall, a message even Aislin could understand.

"Remember what I told you," she whispered to Jaz as they obediently followed his order. Jaz was stiff as a board, and Aislin's heart was hammering in her chest. As they passed the soldier on the way through the door, in one swift motion Aislin drew Sliver and held its impossibly sharp edge to his neck. His startled look was the signal which pushed Jaz into action. She rushed down the hall to the kitchen door that Aislin had pointed her to and within moments, Jaz was through and gone. Unfortunately, Aislin glanced behind her to make sure of this and the soldier reacted immediately.

He reached for her arm and pulled it away, his strength far greater than her own. She cried out and struggled, flailing away with her legs out of sheer desperation. Fortunately, she landed a kick to his groin which took the strength from his arms. He fell to the floor and curled into a ball, letting out an inarticulate cry that drew the attention of more deserters from the common room.

They came at Aislin in single file and she steeled herself for a fight she had no chance of winning, but every second she delayed them increased the chances of Jaz getting away. The first guard lunged at her with his arms wide in an attempt to grab her, but she was far too quick for that. She ducked and dodged, avoiding his arms each time and lashing out with Sliver every chance she had.

She cut the man again and again, leaving stinging lines of blood with each slice. One particularly savage hit almost sliced his hand in half, sending him reeling back, clutching at his bloodied wound while another stepped forward to take his turn. This one wasn't messing about though, for he'd brought a round wooden shield with him.

The shield lasted about ten seconds before Sliver cut it to pieces, leaving little more than its leather handle and a splintered disc the size of a piece of bread. Filled with a sense of satisfaction, Aislin was ready to keep fighting but three more men piled into the hall and in spite of a gallant effort, she was simply overwhelmed. Sliver was knocked from her shaking hands and two men held her steady while she thrashed about and screamed, trying to break free.

They awkwardly hauled their squirming captive off to the common room where Castor and his other followers were waiting, a false king holding court in a land he didn't own. In his lap was Thunderchief, no doubt loaded and ready to use at a moment's notice. Before him stood Carthack, who wore heavy chains on his armoured body, glaring ominously at the men holding Aislin as they entered the room. Beyond him, Gordon still lay in the corner, pale from blood loss but at least his eyes were open. A terrible, bloodied wound covered half of his face, matting his hair and beard as he watched the proceedings with dazed eyes.

One of the men who had seized Aislin came forward and presented Sliver to Castor, speaking a few words she couldn't understand. Castor set aside the huge firearm and took the shining dagger, which he examined for a few moments before looking at Aislin.

"It seems I really should have had my men search you for weapons after all," he remarked. "This is such a beautiful knife, I think I'm going to keep it."

"It's not yours," Aislin protested, struggling futilely against her captor's iron grip.

"It is now," Castor answered simply. "As for you, well, aren't you a brave little girl? You took quite a risk challenging grown men like that, all to let your friend get away? No matter, I've sent two of my men to track her down so she won't get far. But you, you're a fighter, as my men will attest to." He glanced at some of his soldiers who were having their numerous wounds bandaged. They glared at Aislin in smouldering rage, which she took as a compliment.

"What are you going to do now?" she asked, anticipating something unpleasant.

"Well I was about to send your large friend here to find us some gold, but I think that even he could use some help. So, you're going with him into the Mawganfel."

"No, too dangerous," Carthack rumbled in protest. "You let her stay, I go willingly."

"You're going because your dwarven friend will die if you do not," Castor pointed out. "Since you're all so noble and righteous, I might also kill some of the locals too. Does this motivate you?" He nodded to one of his men who drew a dagger from his belt and walked over to a cowering waitress who, apparently terrified, cried out in fear as he seized her arm.

"Wait, stop," Aislin shouted. "I'll go, just don't hurt anyone, please." The soldier hesitated and looked to Castor, who ordered him to back off.

"I'm pleased to hear you're on board with our objective," he remarked coldly as the poor serving girl sobbed and slumped against the wall. "Now, time is wasting so you'd best get ready to go." Castor raised Thunderchief to point at Carthack and then gestured to the men holding him. They carefully unlocked his chains, which clattered loudly to the floor. Aislin was also freed from the man holding her and another deserter tossed a sack of supplies to each of them, along with a rusty sword for Carthack.

"Head east through town and ignore the 'danger' signs posted along the way," Castor advised. "You can eat breakfast while you walk. I want to be gone from this place by the end of the day, so if you don't return by nightfall, I'm going to assume you've run away or simply been killed by whatever monster lives in the forest. Either way, your dwarven friend will die slowly, do you understand?"

"You're the only monster here," Aislin muttered defiantly, frustrated and afraid for Gordon's life and the lives of everyone in town.

"Then it's best not to make me angry, child," Castor replied evenly. "Go, find me some treasure and if I'm feeling generous, I might even give you a cut. Now, be gone." Carthack and Aislin exchanged a worried glance and slowly made their way to the door, catching Gordon's eye as they went. The injured dwarf, barely able to move, gave them a sorrowful look which broke Aislin's heart.

"We'll be back soon, Mister MacTavish," she called, drawing a faint grin from the wounded old engineer, appearing to lift his spirits at least a little. They emerged into the light of a chilly overcast day, with the townsfolk going about their daily routine. When they noticed Aislin and her towering companion trudging east, they soon realised what was happening.

Men, women and children stood still as the two walked past, a solemn gesture for those who were heading to their doom. Aislin guessed they'd seen many people over the years heading down this path, to never be seen again. Just as Castor had warned, signs reading 'danger' and 'no trespass' were placed along the path, with the dark, ominous forest looming ever closer ahead of them.

"At least Jaz got away," Aislin sighed, trying to find the good side to what was likely to be their untimely deaths.

"You fight well," Carthack rumbled, looking down at her from his lofty height. "Saved one friend at least. Might yet save another."

"I'm not giving up, but Jaz told me all about this forest," Aislin responded cautiously. "I don't have much hope we're going to get through this."

"If I see big monster, will punch in face," Carthack assured her, drawing a wan smile from the girl. She glanced around, hoping to see Conrad stomping into town or to catch a glimpse of Keg, but neither of them were anywhere to be seen. With hunger gnawing at her belly, she reached into the sack and took out some bread and cheese to nibble on as they walked before her gaze was caught by the same grizzled, white-haired man wearing a heavy longcoat and gloves who had spoken to them in the common room the night before. While the other townsfolk were standing still, he was actually approaching them to say something.

"Sending you in to find the treasure, is he?" he asked in a gruff voice, answered by a simple nod from Carthack as they paused in their march towards the unknown. "Figures. You're not the first and probably won't be the last. It ain't right, sending out-of-town folks like yourselves to their deaths like this."

"It's not right that anyone gets sent to do this," Aislin protested.

"Yeah but we're used to it, living next to a haunted forest as we are. Name's Gavyn, I tried to warn you off last night but couldn't get the words out with them buggers sittin' around next to us."

"Carthack," the big man answered, shaking Gavyn's offered hand. "Love to chat, but have to go die now."

"Well, maybe, maybe not," Gavyn suggested. "It's not widely talked about, but someone has actually returned from the forest alive."

"Who was it?" Aislin asked as a spark of hope brightened her face.

"Me," Gavyn answered simply. "About seventeen years ago, I went a little too far into the Mawganfel and the next thing I knew, I woke up the next morning in the forest just outside of town here, my dark hair turned white but otherwise unharmed. Don't ask me how or why, I can't recall anything about what happened in there."

"If you lived, maybe we can too," Aislin said. "I don't mind having white hair if it means we get rid of those horrid men."

"I know I don't have to do this, but I'm prepared to go with you on the off chance my presence will make a difference," Gavyn declared.

"Is risk for you," Carthack pointed out. "Enough dead already."

"It's my choice, sir," Gavyn insisted, "and I have to do my part to try and help the town. Since you're in a hurry, you don't have time to argue with me."

"Could throw you on roof," Carthack suggested, much to Gavyn's alarm.

"He could, you know," Aislin added, "but if it's all the same to you Carthack, we need all the help we can get."

"Okay, you come," the big man eventually relented. "Let's hope you are still lucky."

"You and me both, friend," Gavyn replied ruefully as he fell into step beside them. They passed the last of the warning signs urging them to turn back and cautiously left the town behind.

Within minutes, there was no sign of civilisation at all, with the green canopy growing thicker with every passing minute. The sounds of life were still present, as they would be in any other forest with birds chirping and the occasional sound of a squirrel scurrying along a branch. A strong, cold breeze kept the trees swaying about and sending a chill up Aislin's spine. Her eyes were wide as she looked around, keeping a close eye on the deepening shadows as they delved further into the forbidding forest, expecting trouble at any moment.

"This is roughly where I woke up," Gavyn announced ten minutes later as they came to a particularly gnarled old oak tree of remarkable size. "Everything that happened to me past this point is a blur."

"What were you doing so far into the forest anyway?" Aislin inquired.

"Hunting for truffles with my dog, Red," Gavyn answered. "I got a little turned around headed east instead of west. Red was too excited by the scent of more truffles and didn't warn me until it was too late."

"What happened to him?" Aislin asked, hoping the dog was okay.

"Oh, he ran back to town and found me here the next day, none the wiser," Gavyn answered with a humourless chuckle. "He passed away a few years back."

"I'm sorry," Aislin said quietly.

"Don't be, he had a long, healthy life and nobody can ask for more than that. We'd better keep moving, unless you're having second thoughts about this whole thing."

"We go on," Carthack rumbled. "Any thoughts?"

"Nothing that comes to mind," Gavyn muttered, furrowing his brow in an effort to try and remember what happened to him that day. "From this point on, anything could happen." Carthack shrugged and moved on, with the other two hurrying to catch up. The forest in this area was wild, with no sign humanity had ever cut down a single tree or so much as broken a branch.

While keeping watch for trouble, Aislin almost tripped on something solid beneath the snow underfoot, and when she crouched down to take a closer look, she spotted something rusting away.

"Old armour," Carthack declared with a glance. "Maybe from lost army?"

"That would be my guess," Gavyn surmised as he scratched his unshaven chin. Aislin scrounged with both hands and eventually pulled up the remains of an old breastplate, with a small pouch still tied to it. The leather was rotting away and it was filled with holes, through which a small pile of coins fell into her outstretched palm.

"Well, at least we've found something to take back," she remarked, examining the tarnished old coins. As she wiped away the dirt, the sound of something moving in the nearby undergrowth caught their attention. They froze in place \- eyes searching amidst the green and white for whatever had made the noise. Only moments later, the sound of thudding feet upon the ground accompanied Aislin's racing heart, and something huge, brown and furry burst out of the trees only yards away and roared at them.

Aislin screamed as she recognised a massive Kodiak bear and knew they were in trouble. It rushed towards her with its fangs bared and all she could think to do was reach for Sliver's reassuring touch, but her sheath was empty. Before it could trample her to death however, Carthack's armoured body came out of nowhere and shouldered the bear to one side. The collision shook the ground as Carthack was tossed into the trees.

The bear soon got back on its feet, shook its head and roared, turning to see Carthack rising out of the snow with a look of fierce concentration on his scarred features.

"Run," he bellowed to Aislin and Gavyn. "I will keep it busy." The bear rose to its hind legs, towering above even the huge escardi. Gavyn took Aislin by the arm and almost dragged her back as the bear lumbered forward to challenge them again. Not far behind it, Aislin spotted a small bear, no more than a cub cowering in the bushes and she realised what Carthack was facing. The big man reached for his rusty sword but stopped when Aislin called out a warning.

"It's a mother bear! Don't kill her, she's protecting her cub." Carthack gave her a look of exasperation but had no more time to think about it as the bear charged in again and swiped at him with one mighty paw. His armour protected him but he still took a beating as the bear knocked him about.

"Come on!" Gavyn insisted, trying to drag Aislin away from the fight but she resisted, unable to leave Carthack on his own. The bear bashed him with her paws again and again, knocking him into the ground where it tried to maul him, right up until one armoured fist slammed into the side of her head.

The bear staggered backwards with a low, drunk-sounding growl, giving Carthack a chance to regain his footing. This time he didn't hesitate, moving in with his iron-clad fists flashing in the light, slugging the bear in the ribs and head as he sought to knock her out or at least make her run away. Once again, she reared up on her hind legs and wrapped her forelegs around Carthack, causing both of them to fall to the ground as they wrestled in the snow.

"You can't help him, but we might still be able to save your friends if we keep going," Gavyn insisted, and this time Aislin gave in, for he was right - there was nothing she could do.

With the sounds of the fight continuing, Aislin and Gavyn scrambled away through the snow deeper into the dangerous forest, with only the thought that the bear might be the least of their concerns running through Aislin's mind.

### 5

### Command

Maximilian spent his morning finding ways to divert the attention of one Osric Davignon from his desire to speak with Madelyn in private. The man's reputation with women preceded him and Max wasn't going to put them in the same room together if he had any say in the matter. Although tempted, he refrained from directly saying 'no' to Osric's face, instead finding interesting and inventive ways to thwart him.

Firstly, the forgetful steward 'lost' his key to the office, an infraction Max assured Osric he would get to the bottom of as soon as possible. Then a messy accident on the stairs prevented anyone from reaching the first floor until it was cleaned up, consigning Osric to the lower levels. Once this was finally cleared, Max regretfully informed 'His Majesty' that he'd already conducted the interrogation for the day and the prisoner was now resting. It would be ungentlemanly to submit the lady to too much at once given her weak condition, of course.

All of this left Osric fuming, but he had to swallow his pride and put up with Max's less-than-subtle obstruction, for the time being at least. So it was that the major headed to his chambers in the afternoon with a spring in his step, finding the death-by-inches approach of punishing his rival very satisfying indeed, and refused to believe it was his daily time with Madelyn that was the source of his buoyant spirits. This mood came to an abrupt end when he arrived at his makeshift office and found something unpleasant waiting for him.

Though it may have been slow to get going, once the mighty bureaucratic engine of Kurhain was running it was unstoppable. Max glared balefully at the pile of paperwork on his desk, pondering the best way to avoid tackling it. Regrettably, it was all to do with restoring his command to fighting shape and couldn't be avoided. It almost seemed like too much for one man to handle, which gave him an idea.

Once seated behind his desk, Max called for Yuri and requested he bring Osric here at once.

"I'm not sure a foreign King falls under our command," Yuri hedged. "He may be rather put out, to put it mildly sir."

"He's not the King of Tulsone, his brother is," Maximilian reminded his lieutenant. "Mister Davignon is here at my sufferance, and would no doubt jump at another chance to redeem himself in the eyes of our beloved leader. Fetch him at once."

"Very well sir," Yuri answered with a salute and the faintest of smiles. Once he was gone, Max busied himself with a few of the more important pieces needing to be done and noted with a measure of relief that the capitol was sending a lot of supplies and munitions their way. The exhausted veterans that had been reassigned to the fort had brought with them only the most basic equipment and Max would not settle for anything less than the country's finest. His musings were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door made by someone who was bottling up a lot of anger.

"Ah, there you are," he greeted Osric when the door opened. "I've good news – your knowledge of bureaucracy is about to come in handy. This pile of communiques from the capitol need to be processed, something you are more than qualified to handle."

"You seem to be misinformed," Osric growled as he eyed the paperwork. "My knowledge extends to assigning someone else the task of running my country, and this is not why I'm here -"

"Nonsense, you're perfect for the task," Maximilian interrupted, managing to stifle a smile as he grabbed his coat and headed for the door. "Yuri and I have to start organising what few soldiers we've been sent into some semblance of a defensive force. So few of them have to cover such a large area, you see. Now, you can either be useful to me here in the office, or you can work in the stables this evening." Osric bit his lip to avoid shouting something he'd later regret, then silently moved to sit behind the desk.

"That's what I thought," Max growled. "Get all of that done by the time I return and I'll see what I can do for you to join me in tomorrow's interrogation of the prisoner." He didn't wait for a reply, having no interest in what Osric had to say.

Feeling that he was finally getting things under control, Max headed down to the barracks to inspect the soldiers who had recently been transferred to his command. He noticed Yuri speaking with one of the clerks in terse language and gestured for the lieutenant to join him.

"Trouble?" Max inquired as both Yuri fell into step alongside.

"Sergeant Kopernic threatened him if proper supplies weren't dispensed to his men immediately," Yuri answered.

"Kopernic? One of the new men I presume," Max remarked dourly, receiving a nod from Yuri to confirm his suspicion.

"In the absence of his commanding officer, he is effectively leading the recently arrived platoon," the lieutenant responded.

"Where is their commander?"

"He died at a recent skirmish near Aquilonis, right before they were due for replacement," Yuri explained grimly, drawing a muttered curse from Maximilian. They moved through the main doors into the fort's courtyard and huddled into their longcoats to ward away the bitter chill.

"We could have secured Aquilonis and pushed further ahead if those fools had stuck to my plan," Max growled, his breath misting in the frigid air. "Why haven't the men received their proper supplies?"

"That's what I was trying to find out. The clerk is doubling his efforts to get to the bottom of this, though I suspect the problem lies at the other end of the supply chain." Before long, they arrived at the barracks to discover it was only slightly warmer than outside. Max and Yuri followed the sounds of grumbling voices and soon entered the only area currently populated with soldiers.

Stark stone walls did little to keep out the cold and the beds lining the walls in neat rows were unmade. A dozen men in heavy winter coats milled around to keep warm, appearing weary and in poor spirits while another ten or so of their comrades, sporting bandages and other signs of injury lay on their beds. They were young, almost too young to be soldiers and Max idly wondered if the country was now so desperate for troops that it was willing to risk losing an entire generation.

One of them noticed the two officers enter and nodded towards them, silencing the others as they turned to see who approached. The largest of the soldiers was bald, sported a thick moustache and mutton chops in the manner favoured by the Grand Duke and the nobles in his court. Rank insignia on his lapel indicated this was Sergeant Kopernic, and he was an intimidating sight indeed.

"No salute for your new commander?" Max asked quietly when the troops didn't respond to his presence.

"That hasn't been formalised yet," Kopernic rumbled in reply, glaring at Max with piercing blue eyes.

"Then how about a measure of respect for your superiors," Yuri snapped. They exchanged fierce stares for a long, awkward moment before the sergeant and his men finally managed a salute, which Max and Yuri both returned smartly.

"I am Major Maximilian Strauss, your new commanding officer," Max said in a raised voice little short of shouting. He slowly walked through their ranks, taking his measure of each man as he passed. "I'll make sure you receive a copy of the official order as soon as it comes in, just so there are no misunderstandings. I understand that you were supposed to be on leave from active service for a full month, due to a period of extended service on the front lines. I apologise for interrupting this plan, but recent events have left this fort dangerously undermanned and you are here to bolster our numbers for the next few weeks."

"What happened to the others stationed here?" one of the soldiers called from the other side of the room.

"What do you think? Probably sent to their deaths by this bloody fool," another answered, drawing a grim laugh from the entire group. Max almost blurted out the real truth, that his men were taken out from under him, but that would only serve to further undermine their faith in the chain of command.

"They were ordered to fight for Kurhain and that is precisely what they did," Max snarled, silencing them. "The Grand Duke himself had a hand in the decision, and it is not up to you to question why. It is your duty to serve and if necessary, to die in his name and if any of you speak poorly of you superior officers again, I will have you flogged." This had their attention, though his speech certainly wasn't winning him any friends.

"I know you recently saw action on the western front," Max continued in a more reasonable tone, "and your losses were heavy. Were it up to me, you would all be awarded the highest honours for your bravery and given leave, as you deserve but for the time being, your presence is required here."

"You're in command of the safest fort in the entire country, Major," Sergeant Kopernic remarked in a quiet, deep voice as he loomed over Max. "The biggest danger you've got around here is some nice, soft Lydeni women coming in from the north to pay you a visit. We've been wading through blood and bones for the better part of five years now, Major. I've seen officers like you come and go, barely even getting your boots muddy. What do you know about fighting on the front lines?"

"Kurhain has been at war for decades, Sergeant," Max answered in an even tone, moving to stand before him. "You will be hard-pressed to find a soldier in this country who hasn't spent time at the front and I assure you, I've seen more than my share. You've had some weak, ineffective commanders, have you? Give me a chance to show that I'm different."

Kopernic stared down at Max for the better part of a minute and the major thought it was about to come to blows, when the big man slowly nodded.

"We've been sleeping on makeshift beds for months, and these things aren't much better," he announced, glancing casually around the room as if the confrontation hadn't happened. "We want proper meals, not the dried rations we've been eating for weeks now."

"I'll see to it," Max answered.

"Oh, and clear the chimney so we can get some heat in here, it's like a bloody cave," Kopernic muttered as he turned away from Max who, understanding that the meeting was over, likewise headed for the door without another word.

"Shouldn't you demand another salute?" Yuri whispered harshly as they passed through the door.

"We can't demand the respect of these men, Yuri," Max answered quietly. "We'll have to earn it."

"That wasn't what I was expecting at all."

"You've spent too much time serving generals in the capital," Max confided as they strolled away from the barracks. "I've seen this sort of thing before - soldiers who have fought too long, seen too much. Their commanders lost their respect through poor leadership and they've had to survive on their own in the middle of a brutal war zone. They're little more than kids, Yuri, barely able to be called adults and Kopernic's been their father figure when everyone else has died, keeping them alive and fighting one day at a time. If we win his respect, we'll win theirs and by my measure they could be forged into some of the finest fighting men the country has seen."

"That's a bold claim," Yuri responded mildly. "They're probably the least disciplined troops I've ever seen."

"They've grown to distrust authority, seeing their superiors as incompetent and out of touch with what's really happening on the front line," Max continued. "There was a reason these men were destined for a long respite from the fighting, but circumstances simply don't permit it."

"I can arrange to have them reassigned elsewhere," Yuri suggested, "make them someone else's problem?"

"If we had anyone else to take their place I'd agree, but undisciplined soldiers are better than none," Max sighed in resignation. "They'll come around eventually, so long as we give them the respect they need. A few luxuries from home would go a long way towards earning their trust, too. See what you can do to make some wine, cheese and perhaps some willing ladies 'accidentally' find their way here."

"That's a tall order Major, but I'll see what I can manage," Yuri warned.

"In the meantime, do as he asks and give them the best beds and food we have available, and send someone down the chimney to clear it out. In fact, I think I know just the person."

"You mean... Osric?" Yuri blurted in shock before noticing Maximilian's faint smile.

"Lighten up Yuri, things are finally moving in our favour."

"Forgive me Major," Yuri dryly remarked, "I wasn't aware you had a sense of humour. I suppose our lovely guest is having an effect on you." Yuri snapped a quick salute and headed off to carry out his orders, leaving Max to contemplate those last words in silence.

He ascended the stairs to his quarters as the light from the short winter's day began to fade, mulling over the current state of affairs both here, and throughout the country in general. As he turned the handle on the door to his office, Max idly wondered how Osric was faring with the paperwork, only to discover the room dark and apparently empty.

Not entirely surprised by this outcome, Maximilian leafed through the papers on the desk and found only a handful had been processed, but more curiously, he found a glass lying on its side with a reddish stain visible on some of the papers beneath it. Certain he hadn't left his office in such a dishevelled state, Max picked up the glass and caught a whiff of wine and deduced Osric had found a more appealing way to spend the afternoon.

It then suddenly occurred to Max that Osric, in a drunken fury, may have attempted to barge in on Madelyn's privacy. Maximilian spun about with the intention of heading straight for her chambers when the door slammed shut, revealing Osric standing there with his glowing magical sword held in unsteady hands.

"Good even', Major," the exiled King slurred. "Sho good of you to join me. I do sho hate to drink alone. Won't you have a sheat?" Max, who hadn't taken his eyes from the weapon, slowly made his way to a nearby chair and did as he was told.

"Help yourshelf to a glash of wine," Osric suggested, gesturing with the wavering tip of his weapon to an open bottle on a small table next to the chair. "I'm shure I left a little there for you." Max neither answered or moved, instead focusing his sight on Osric's face, waiting for an opportunity to reach for his firearm.

"Shuit yourself," Osric slurred. "You know, I hate paperwork and I don't care for people ordering me around, like I'm shome common sholdier. Trying to humiliate me with tedioush busywork was a low blow, shir. I've killed people for treating me far better than that." Osric wobbled unsteadily for a moment before suddenly stumbling into the wall to slide down the smooth stone until he was resting on his backside. Before he'd come to a stop, Max was standing before him with the dangerous end of Gunhilde's three loaded chambers pointed at Osric's face.

With a swift kick, Max sent Osric's sorcerous weapon clattering across the floor, with the glowing blade vanishing as soon as it left his hands. The bare hilt clanked into a table and came to a stop only a few metres away but Osric, clearly too drunk to stand, didn't move for it.

"I'm starting to think you don't like me, Maxsh," he mumbled before bursting into shrill laughter.

"I can't imagine why you'd think that," Maximilian responded dryly, his extended weapon unwavering. Osric's mirth gradually faded, leaving Max unsure if he should pull the trigger or have the guards drag his drunken guest back to his quarters.

"Nothing's turned out the way it was shpposed to," Osric sighed, seemingly unaware or uncaring of the weapon pointed at him. "You've no idea what it'sh like to have fallen sho far. I wonder where it all went wrong? Might thingsh have turned out different if I'd made one shlightly different choice along the way?"

"These sound like the sorts of weighty thoughts you'd best mull over on your own time," Max muttered, lowering the sidearm more out of pity than anything else. "Oh, and don't ever draw your weapon on me unless you intend to use it."

"Impreshive though, ishn't it?" Osric suggested, glancing over at the hilt, barely visible in the dim room. "I've shlain sho many enemiesh with it, yet more remain. How many do I have to kill before I can go home?"

Max sensed Osric was already heading towards the depressive side of his drunken bender and almost groaned aloud at his maudlin introspection.

"Given your brother has complete control of your country," Max speculated, "and an alliance with his immediate neighbours, probably something on the order of a hundred thousand soldiers. You should turn in and make an early start of it if you want to get it done by tomorrow evening."

"You mock my pain," Osric remarked, lacking the usual anger hidden just beneath the surface of his every spoken word.

"I mock your methods," Maximilian grunted, sheathing Gunhilde in disgust. "If there's one thing I've learned in decades of fighting, it's that killing people just makes their countrymen angry. We've been fighting the remnants of the Holy Ramidian Empire for generations now, and every soldier we kill just motivates their son, nephew or neighbour to grow up and stand against us. Every one of our soldiers that falls creates the same need for revenge from our own countrymen. We're no closer to victory now than we were eighty years ago, and I often wonder if Ramidia would have just fallen apart on its own had we not arrived on these shores and given them an enemy to unite against. Yet you think you can kill your way to forcing your country to love you? Yes, you're damn right I'm mocking you."

"My father taught me to be shtrong, to never show weaknesh," Osric snapped as Max headed for the open bottle. "I don't want their love, I want their allegiance and reshpect, just like they gave him, for I am their rightful King."

"If your father taught you that, he was a poor teacher," Max stated as he poured the remainder of the wine into an empty glass.

"You don't know anything 'bout him," Osric hissed, struggling to get back on his feet.

"If he taught you everything you know, I understand more than you think," Max countered. "I'm guessing he was cold and aloof, yet demanding and unforgiving of mistakes. You bent over backwards seeking his approval in all things, with hardly anything to show for it. Even now, long after his death, you're still trying to live in his shadow, made longer by the fact he was a King. Am I close at all, Mister Davignon?" Osric was staring blearily back at him in surprise, which was all the answer Max needed.

"How can you know sho much?" he said in little more than a whisper.

"Because I see it in your every action and hear it whenever you speak," Max answered soberly, taking a sip from his glass as he sat. "But most of all, because my father was the same, save for not being a King of course."

"Thish confirmsh what I was beginning to shuspect all along," Osric slurred. "Both of ush carry the burden of expectationsh – I from my father'sh legacy, you from yoursh and Grand Duke Lothar. We are not sho different, you and I." Max leaned forward, the leather on his chair creaking a little as he moved.

"We are nothing alike," he growled. "I stand for duty, loyalty and honour, and you value none of these traits. We may have had similar upbringings, but somewhere along the way you were twisted into a grotesque parody of a human being, devoid of morality, and were it not for your vile sorcery your life would have been snuffed out years ago. Instead of forging alliances and friendships, you seek only to enslave others to your depraved, selfish whims."

Expecting an outburst from the man, Max was quietly astonished to see Osric sullenly silent and unmoving as the major finally let fly with all the words he'd been holding back for months.

"Why did you really come here, sir?" Maximilian continued. "To interrogate a prisoner? My men and I are more than qualified for that task so I have to think there's more to it. It's because she shamed you more than once, am I right? She either beat you or made you look like a fool, and you came here expecting the same degree of co-operation you've enjoyed in the past so you could abuse a helpless woman and 'teach her a lesson'. Well I'm going to disappoint you Osric - she's too valuable to Kurhain to simply hand her over for your amusement, so you're never getting in to see her."

Expecting an outraged tirade from the man, Max was unnerved to see a smile gradually appear on Osric's fair features.

"You've taken a fancy to her, 'aven't you?" he purred, lurching across the room. "You have! You've tried to play the hard-noshed sholdier ruthleshly interrogating your prisoner, but one look into her bright blue eyesh and you couldn't do it. You've undereshtimated her, shir. She knows how to manipulate men and shway them to her shide without them even realishing it'sh happened, but it hazh. She hazh you wrapped around her little finger," he gloated, wagging his digit, "and shoon she'll shuggest you could let her out for a little exercise and shuddenly, she's gone. Only then will you realishe you've been made a fool of Major, but I can shpare you the humiliation thish very moment."

Osric reached down and retrieved his arcane sword, which prompted Max to place a hand on the hilt of his sidearm, but the exiled King simply sheathed the weapon on his belt and turned for the door as fast as he could manage. Suspecting he was going to try and force his way into Madelyn's room, Max was on his feet and in pursuit within moments.

They ran along the corridor, with Osric moving much faster than he should have been able to for a man so inebriated. Clearly, his sorcery was at work and Max wondered just how far he'd go, but he needn't have worried. By the time he caught up, Osric was slumped against the door to Madelyn's chamber, snoring loudly.

Yuri appeared from the other end of the corridor and hurried over, while Max made sure Osric wasn't faking it.

"It appears he can't hold his liquor," the major remarked, staring at the wreck of a man with disgust.

"Did he try to attack you?" Yuri asked.

"Briefly, though I suspect it was just for show. Still, this seems like a good opportunity to relieve him of some of his weapons." Max reached for the hilt of the magical sword but as soon as his hand touched the strange metal, he received a powerful shock that knocked him back nearly a metre.

"Are you alright sir?" Yuri inquired as he came to Max's aid, helping him back on his feet.

"I suppose I should have expected that," he grumbled in reply.

"It would seem his relics only respond to their master," Yuri surmised. "What should I do with him?"

"Take him back to his room," Max ordered, ignoring the pain in his hand. "Have a coach ready to deliver him back to the capital at first light, I believe Osric has worn out his welcome." Yuri nodded and with the aid of some nearby guards, lifted the blond man unceremoniously down the corridor. Max reached for the handle of Madelyn's chamber, certain she'd heard what had happened but he hesitated. Osric may be a monster but something he said about being manipulated had a possible sliver of truth to it.

Resolved to deal with these troublesome matters tomorrow, Max decided to let Madelyn rest for the night, but he couldn't keep her face out of his thoughts as he strolled back to his room.

### 6

### Protector

As Aislin and Gavyn ran, the sound of Carthack's clash with the huge bear faded into the distance, obscured by the thudding of her heart as they ran through the forest. A thick mist obscured everything beyond a dozen yards and gave the place a strange, otherworldly feel. They kept up the pace for a full minute before coming to a stop.

"Maybe that's what has people so scared about the forest?" Aislin asked as she paused for breath. Gavyn, no spring chicken by any measure, leaned one hand against a tree as he struggled for air.

"I don't think one bear is going to be the cause of it all, no matter how big it is," he muttered. Then, the sound of his breathing changed as he looked around, appearing to recognise something about their surroundings.

"What is it?" Aislin asked.

"I don't know," Gavyn answered soberly, "I've got a familiar feeling about this place but I can't put my finger on it. I must have been here before at some point in the past. Hey look over there, I see a pile of old equipment that might yield some coin. We should grab what we can and get out of here. Your big friend can't hold off that bear forever."

"I expect he'll lay it out flat eventually," Aislin assured him with a confidence she didn't feel. "But you're right, we shouldn't stay too long." She took out the empty sack and headed over to the mound, which was comprised of rusty old armour and weapons. With her small hands, she reached into the gaps and felt around for anything else that might be hiding and pulled out a handful of tarnished silver coins covered in moss and dirt.

"Quick, let's gather this up," Aislin suggested as she scooped more into the sack, finding the odd gold piece in amongst the lesser coins. It was more money than she'd seen in her entire life and hoped it was enough to placate Castor and his men back in town. After a few moments, Aislin realised she was the only one grabbing the treasure.

"Gavyn?" she asked, turning to see him staring into the fog with a glazed expression, hardly moving at all. When he didn't answer, Aislin slowly crept towards him, wondering if he was simply trying to remember something about his time in the forest, of if something else was wrong. Aislin determined it was the latter when she came close enough to see his eyes rolled back in their sockets, showing only white as he gaped at nothing in particular.

A faint rumble echoed through the forest, a sound felt more than heard. Aislin slowly turned around, her breath coming in short gasps as she tried to spot the source. A faint, shrill sound unlike anything she'd heard before joined the low rumble, almost like a distant scream slowly coming closer. Aislin reflexively reached for the reassuring touch of Sliver's hilt, only to find the sheath empty.

With rising panic, she stumbled forward to the pile of old equipment and pulled out a rusty sword, grasping it with two shaking hands as she held it before her.

"Gavyn, wake up!" she cried, desperate to not face the approaching horror alone, but Gavyn was transfixed, unmoving and unresponsive to the rising threat. There was no direct sunlight through the thick fog, yet light filtered through the trees, sending shadows dancing across the cold landscape as the unearthly brilliance moved somewhere nearby.

The noise was louder now, a discordant scream of angry voices strengthened by the undercurrent of a deep rumble strong enough to shake snow from tree branches around Aislin. The urge to run was overwhelming, for while she considered herself brave, Aislin couldn't understand what she was facing here. Only the prospect of leaving Gavyn facing the strange monster alone kept her from fleeing, so with trembling legs, she held her ground and bit her lip to keep from adding her scream to the choir.

The light came closer and closer, with the sound growing louder by the moment until Aislin was forced to drop her weapon and cover her ears.

And then there was silence. Around her there was only misty light, with no sign of trees, ground or sky. Glancing around frantically, she noticed Gavyn was still where he had been before, but now both of them were... somewhere else.

Along with the enveloping light came a sense of someone standing close, almost close enough to touch, and yet there was nobody else there. A sense of terrible fury filled the air around Aislin, an anger that wasn't her own. A flash of blinding light made her gasp in pain, and a memory of fear came to the forefront of her mind.

She was hiding under a table while soldiers, men who stank of sweat and blood, held her and the people of the Bracksfordshire Arms Inn hostage. Aislin felt small and insignificant, powerless to stop them as they beat her father with their armoured fists for daring to stand up to them. It was one of her worst memories, something she often dreamed of but never thought about during her waking hours.

More memories flashed through her mind, almost at random. Important points in her life filled with strong emotion became prominent, overwhelming her with feelings of loss and pain. Aislin didn't know why all of this was coming out, leaving her bewildered as her own life was put on display before her mind's eye, like someone flipping through a book.

Then the images stopped shifting about and focused on one thing, a room where beloved people once lived, but was now dark and empty. Aislin's older brothers had once lived here, until they left to fight in a war and never returned, leaving a hole in the lives of Aislin and her father that hadn't been filled. Feeling as though she was standing there right now was too much for her. Aislin fell to her knees and began to sob uncontrollably.

It defines you, a man's voice said, seeming to come from all around her at once. It was hard and cold, lacking any compassion.

"Who are you?" Aislin asked with tears flowing down her cheeks. The voice didn't answer, and instead more memories drifted through her mind. Images of her rescuing Jaz from the Stormflow river when the bridge collapsed crystallised before her, quickly followed by other acts of bravery Aislin had performed for her friends, culminating in facing down the menacing figure of Osric Davignon on two separate occasions and winning each time.

The sense of anger around her faded and the blinding light dimmed, revealing the ground beneath her feet once more. Aislin and Gavyn were still in the forest, exactly where they had been before. The shifting light and screaming noise had ceased, leaving the forest appearing as peaceful as it had been before. Aislin looked to Gavyn and saw him standing there, peering at her with eyes that were now gold in colour instead of their normal dull brown.

"Are you okay?" Aislin whispered, sniffling a little and wiping moisture from her eyes.

"Gavyn isn't here right now," came the answer in a voice that sounded like Gavyn, but was stronger and had a strange accent. Aislin stared at him and took an involuntary step backwards, realising that the voice that had spoken during her strange encounter was addressing her through Gavyn's body.

"What have you done to him?" Aislin asked, unsure what she was facing yet quite certain she was in grave danger.

"He is safe, child," the person who was not Gavyn answered calmly. "Soon he will be himself once more, and remember nothing of this. It won't be his first time, I assure you."

"Let him go!" Aislin demanded in a trembling voice.

"Understand that I did not impose my will upon him without permission. He was a willing vessel for my spirit, and I shall abide here only for a short while. Men of character such as Gavyn are rare, and I wish him no harm. Or you, for that matter. You too are rare, child. It has been a long time since I met someone like you."

"So, we can leave?" Aislin inquired, relaxing a little yet still wary of this strange creature inhabiting Gavyn.

"Not yet," came the reply as he began to slowly circle Aislin. "For long centuries, men came here seeking the wealth hidden just beneath the surface, disturbing my rest with their discordant energies. They were vile creatures, whose hearts are filled with greed and anger, seeking only power over others," he continued, his voice becoming twisted with disgust and rage as he spoke.

"All the people who came through this forest over the years," Aislin whispered in understanding. "You killed them?"

"Their very existence filled me with pain, so I snuffed out their lives and scattered their ashes to the wind," the stranger confirmed without remorse. "Long have I walked the lands of men, and little has changed over the aeons. Greed, lust, murder and betrayal dominate, and no matter how many I vanquished, more would rise to take their place. So I came here to get away from it all, to leave the mortal world to their own devices, but the worst of humanity seemed to follow me here.

"What about Gavyn? Is he the only person you haven't killed?"

"He was the first to enter this part of the forest for many years who lived to tell about it," he answered. "His lineage is rather special, allowing me to borrow his body for a time. I consider it providence that he stumbled into the forest when he did, for I was able to ask for his assistance in dealing with a lingering threat to the region."

"What was that?" Aislin asked, engrossed by the encounter.

"To the north resides a dragon of immense size and power, a creature who takes unbridled joy in the destruction of humanity and the other races of the world." Aislin's eyes widened when she realised who he was referring to.

"Leviachon the Destroyer?" she whispered, recalling the terrifying dragon all too well.

"Yes, the same one you recently countered at the Spire. He was harassing locals near to this area and though I am not as strong as I was in times past, with Gavyn's aid I was able to confront the beast and drive it away. Aside from a lingering sliver of memory, Gavyn has no recollection of the event, or of meeting me. The area has remained peaceful ever since, until Castor and his men showed up. And then you came along, child, just to make things more complicated."

"What do you want with me?" Aislin asked warily.

"I am presented with a dilemma and thought you might have something interesting to say about it," he responded. "I sense that you are a selfless soul \- a rare thing indeed – and you've come here seeking the treasure for reasons not your own."

"I don't want the money for myself," Aislin confirmed, "but I need it to save my friends."

"So I gathered. You are being used by evil men, Aislin."

"I know, but what can I do about it? Wait, how did you know my name?"

"I can read you well enough," the creature responded. "Your name is woven into the very fabric of your being, so it's rather hard to miss. But the others, those that sent you here in their stead, I can see their handiwork upon your living spirit. Cruel creatures they are, the kind I have fought for countless years, the kind without number."

"I have no wish to harm you, yet if I let you leave here with the treasure, they get their way and will continue on their immoral path, likely causing more pain and suffering throughout their lives. If I prevent you leaving, your friends – who you hold in high esteem – will perish and for all their faults, they at least are the victims here. Castor will send others in your place until he gets what he wants. I am curious - what you would do in my place?"

"How can I know what you'd do when I don't even know your name?" Aislin responded.

"I am Praesidium," came the reply with a hint of pride.

"Are you a ghost?"

"No, I am an angel of Divine Kylaris, the Light of the Heavens." Aislin stared at him, unsure how to respond to such a claim. Praesidium raised an eyebrow when she fell silent and stopped his pacing to address her again. "Do you not know of Kylaris?"

"I have heard the name," Aislin hastily assured him. "Back home in Bracksford, there was a priest named Father Murray who taught kids about Kylaris in school... right after I stopped going. I had to help my father run the inn," she confessed sheepishly. "But I'm sure lots of people have heard of you."

"I have been far removed from civilisation for some time, but is there not a Church devoted to Her teachings?"

"Well, there used to be a proper Church but it closed down a few years ago, and Father Murray left very quickly for some reason," Aislin explained.

Praesidium frowned at this, then gently lay a hand on Aislin's head for a moment. Images of the old priest forced to leave town in disgrace flashed through her mind, and long-forgotten conversations between her father and some of the townsfolk indicated something terrible had befallen the Church of Aielund, with all of the priests sent to monasteries to pray for redemption. Aislin had never understood what it all meant as she was much younger at the time, but Praesidium's expression indicated he wasn't pleased.

"Corruption at the heart of the Church," he growled in a low voice that shook snow from the nearby branches. "In the absence of inspiring leadership, they too were seduced by power and greed. Father Murray was not to blame child, but he and many others of genuine faith and conviction were caught up in the machinations of Church politics. Does the corruption of man know no end?"

"There are lots of good people still around," Aislin pleaded as Praesidium, seething with anger, withdrew his hand.

"They are as sheep facing wolves, child. Those who seek authority are the ones least trustworthy to do right by others."

"Then we need people to protect them, like you and I," Aislin blurted before realising she'd just compared herself to an angel. "I mean, if I were as powerful as you, I'd go back into town and help those people defeat Castor and his men."

"With more killing?" Praesidium asked as his mood wavered again. "It won't make any difference. Whether it's Castor or someone else, the free will of man turns all too readily to the allure of immorality."

"You don't have to kill though, right? Just make them go away and leave the town in peace. Can you do that? I bet you can do all sorts of things."

"Of course, but then there is nothing to stop them returning, or travelling elsewhere to cause mayhem," Praesidium growled. "I have tried many ways to deal with such people over the years, but there is only one solution that makes a lasting difference, and I am done with it." With that, he stalked away from Aislin further into the forest, muttering to himself in a low voice.

Astonished at this behaviour, she hurried to follow him. She was beginning to suspect Praesidium wasn't feeling very well, for if he was a normal person, his behaviour and mannerisms indicated he was perhaps a bit mad. She didn't have any experience dealing with such things, but deep down Aislin knew Praesidium was the key to this whole mess. If she could just convince him to help, they could defeat Castor's men and free Mawgan from their tyranny. Praesidium noticed she was following him and turned to glare at her.

"I have no further interest in dealing with your situation. You are free to leave, Aislin," he intoned.

"I know."

"Then why are you following me?"

"Well, I don't know what it's like to fight against bad people for as long as you have," Aislin said quietly after a moment's thought. "You're obviously in a lot of pain and I understand that you want peace in your life. We all do, really. The whole reason my friends and I are out here is to make our home safe from people like Castor and Osric. Do you know who he is?"

"I saw him in your memories," Praesidium responded as he continued walking. "He is the worst kind of person, one who enjoys the misery and suffering of others. My brethren would say he is damaged and needs only love to heal, but I find such talk to be futile and little more than a distraction from what needs to be done."

"Right, so you know what Osric wants to do and why we have to stop him," Aislin pointed out as she hurried to keep up. "We have to stand up for what's right if we want to find a little bit of peace in life for ourselves."

Aislin was about to say more when she spotted something looming in the mist ahead, and old building towering over the forest. It was covered in vines and moss, but had the distinct appearance of an old church half-buried in the ground.

"What is this place?" she whispered.

"A long-forgotten temple to the elven god of the sun," Praesidium explained with a measure of respect in his voice. "Before Kylaris descended to aid mankind in their time of need, there was Sol, one of my ancient brothers who assumed the task of bringing light into the world. The elves worshipped him as a god, though he was no more powerful than I."

"I thought the elves lived in a forest on the west coast," Aislin remarked, slowly moving to the temple's wall to place her hand upon its cracked and withered surface.

"Once, the forests covered the entire land of Feydwiir and within their hallowed boughs, the elves and their smaller cousins danced and sang and hunted, living in harmony with nature," Praesidium continued wistfully. "With the spread of humanity through these lands, the elves were slowly pushed back over time to the only remaining part of the original forest. The Mawganfel, as the locals call it, is one of the few vestiges of that ancient forest still standing in the world."

"It's beautiful," Aislin whispered in awe, staring up at the old building. She peered in through one of the windows and noticed a huge pile of old equipment and coins from all of the soldiers who'd tried to go through the Mawganfel, only to meet Praesidium's judgement.

"This ground is still hallowed in the name of Sol, sustaining my existence on the Materium far longer than normal."

"Materium?"

"This world, this dimension," Praesidium tried to explain. "Perhaps we will save a lesson on the nature of the cosmos for another time, child. Suffice it to say, without the energy emanating from this temple, I would have vanished long ago."

"I don't understand," Aislin confessed, finding all of this a little hard to comprehend.

"I came to this world nearly a thousand years ago to fight a terrible scourge in the name of Heaven. We usually only spend a brief time here, then return to the celestial realm of Assumption for a century or more to recuperate from our time away from the Source."

"The source of what?" Aislin asked curiously.

"Of everything," Praesidium answered cryptically.

"Why don't you go back home? Do angels have families?"

"Brothers and sisters, after a fashion," Praesidium answered wistfully. "I don't know if I'd be welcome, after all I've done. I have broken many of our edicts over the years."

"With all the killing you've done?" Aislin said, a little more harshly than she'd intended. Praesidium didn't respond, choosing instead to stare at the temple. "Aren't angels supposed to be all the best things about people?" Aislin pressed. "Love, kindness and all that?"

"Some are, but others like myself are warriors, defenders of the faith," Praesidium explained.

"You're supposed to defend good people," Aislin remarked. "My friends need us, right now. Look, if you don't want to help, that's okay. You've been through more than I'll ever understand. When Castor and his men leave Mawgan, my friends and I will make sure they never hurt anyone else again."

Without asking, she climbed through the window and started gathering coins among the old equipment. While scrounging about, she noticed the hilt of a sword that was still shining brightly, while others around it had rusted away. She carefully pulled it from the pile and marvelled at the gleaming blade.

"That one belonged to the captain of the men who came through here seeking to plunder the realm," Praesidium remarked as he gazed inside with inner conflict evident in his golden eyes.

"Can I borrow it? I promise to give it back when we're done."

"If you are going to use it to fight evil and defend the innocent, you may keep it," he responded softly. "To see one so young, genuinely willing to risk their mortal life in service to humanity, shames me. I don't recall when I fell so far from grace, but I suspect I have spent far too long hidden from the world, when I should have been protecting it."

"You've done enough. It's time for someone else to step up and make a difference," Aislin suggested as she tied the sword's sheath over her back. A grown man probably would have been able to wield it in one hand, yet she could barely lift it with two.

"Though it may risk my very existence, I cannot bear the thought of you facing off against those men alone."

"What are you saying?" Aislin asked, turning to look at him with hope in her eyes.

"I believe I have enough strength in me for one last fight," Praesidium responded gravely. Aislin beamed at him as she awkwardly sheathed the sword over her shoulder.

"Then we've no time to waste," she declared, clambering back out through the window with the sack of coins in hand. "My friend Carthack was fighting a bear when I left him. We need to make sure he's okay."

"Take my hand," Praesidium instructed. As soon as she did so, the temple vanished instantly as if it had never been there. It was replaced with a different part of the forest, where Carthack, still standing, dodged around trees to keep the ferocious bear at bay.

Aislin squealed when she realised Praesidium had transported them within only a few feet of the beast, which whirled around and roared at them once it sensed their presence. Praesidium raised a hand and the bear suddenly went quiet. Its eyes closed and it crashed to the ground.

"You killed her!" Aislin cried, to which Praesidium shook his head. The bears chest rose and fell in a gentle rhythm, accompanied by a great snoring noise that caused its lips to flap about.

"I would never harm an animal," the angel assured her. Carthack, puffing hard from his long battle, staggered around from the side of the tree with blood streaming from a gash on his face, and other wounds evident beneath his battered armour.

"You two okay?" he rumbled, looking at his opponent in surprise.

"I'm more worried about you," Aislin answered.

"Just a scratch," Carthack answered as he waved his hand dismissively. "Did you find coin?"

"Plenty, but I don't think we're going to need it. Praesidium, can you make all of the bad men in town go to sleep?"

"A few, but each one is going to further drain me," he warned. "I will need your help to defeat them. Hold still, sir," he continued as he extended a hand to Carthack's face. The wound stopped bleeding instantly and healed over, much to his surprise.

"How did you do that, Gavyn?" he asked.

"I am Praesidium, a warrior angel of Divine Kylaris," he answered, though Carthack's blank look suggested he didn't quite understand this either, much to Praesidium's disappointment.

"Here, take this, you'll make better use of it than I," Aislin suggested, drawing the beautiful sword she'd discovered and hand it to Carthack. He easily held the blade in one of his huge hands and marvelled at its balance. He then drew his other rusty sword given to him by Castor and whirled them in the air simultaneously.

"Okay, we go," he rumbled. "Follow me in. Help if you can, if not, stay in cover."

"Can you move us into town like you did just now?" Aislin wondered.

"I already have," Praesidium answered. Around them, the quaint houses of Mawgan suddenly appeared, again, with no sensation of movement at all. Carthack adapted to this quickly and with a nod to Praesidium, slowly crept through the back alleyway looking for trouble.

### 7

### Judgement

Grey clouds gathered in the sky, obscuring the sun as Aislin, Carthack and Praesidium crouched behind a building. A chill winter wind whipped her long hair about so she kept close to Carthack's immense form, using him as a windbreak. To her ears, the town sounded completely normal. People walked along the street on their regular tasks oblivious to their presence, but their faces revealed the strain they were under.

From the narrow gap between two houses, the three of them watched Castor's men surveying the town for any sign of resistance from the population. Although dressed in common clothing, beneath their winter longcoats Aislin caught the gleam of hidden weapons.

"So many," Carthack whispered as he took in the scene, then bowed his head, still tired from the long travel and of course, fighting a giant bear. Praesidium noticed this and lay one hand on his shoulder which glowed faintly for a few seconds. The effect upon Carthack was profound though, for his head shot back up and his eyes widened, appearing more energetic than he had in weeks.

"You will have renewed strength for a time, long enough to accomplish our task," Praesidium explained.

"Thank you," Carthack answered, giving Praesidium a grateful nod before turning his gaze back out to the streets. "I see twenty-two men, all armed. We must reach inn, save Gordon and other hostages before attack."

"Any one of these people could be held captive," Aislin remarked sourly. "How can we protect them all?"

"I will do my best to stop anyone who tries," Praesidium assured them. "When you go forth to mete out justice, fear not for the lives of innocents this day." After a moment's consideration, Carthack offered him the gleaming sword, hilt first.

"You need this?"

"No," Praesidium answered without taking his eyes off the villagers. Carthack gave him a suspicious look but made no comment.

"Do you have plan?" he asked instead. Praesidium looked at Aislin, who gazed up at him hopefully.

"I will strive to put as many to sleep as I can, though I doubt I can affect so many. Where I fail, you will step in and make sure they cannot hurt anyone."

"Okay, but not here, too many," Carthack advised. "We move closer." Moving with surprising grace for someone of his bulk, he led them around the back of the shops along the main street, peering through the gaps to look for the right place to attack.

Praesidium, travelling alongside, suddenly raised his arm to bring them to a halt just before passing by another narrow passage between buildings. Two soldiers, feeling confident they were in complete control of the town sauntered by, oblivious to the presence of the three interlopers. Aislin held her breath and kept low until they passed then, with a measure of relief, the three continued on until they came to a side street with only six deserters visible. Carthack quietly drew his two swords and looked at Praesidium with a curious expression.

"You sure you an angel? Look like man to me."

"You will see who I am, soon enough," Praesidium responded evenly.

Before Carthack could answer, he was interrupted by the sound of soldiers shouting orders, accompanied by the sound of firearms discharging somewhere in town. Uncertain what was happening, the three of them moved through the narrow back streets in the direction of the commotion.

When Aislin peered around a corner along the main street, she could see what had scared the soldiers so much. With thumping great steps, the towering metal form of Conrad lumbered into town from the west, with bullets bouncing from his armoured body as the Kurhanir tried to slow him down. On his shoulder rode Keg, his back arched and his fur standing on end as he spat and snarled at the soldiers while twin beams of fire shot out of the construct's eyes.

"It's Jaz!" Aislin exclaimed to her companions. "She made it to Conrad and sent him in." Realising their bullets were useless, the deserters sheathed their emptied weapons and drew an assortment of large swords, hammers and axes and moved in to attack the construct while the townsfolk ran for cover. Although incredibly tough, Aislin's smile faded when she saw just how outnumbered Conrad was.

The first soldier to close in met a ball of clawed fury in his face as Keg leaped from Conrad's shoulder and into the fray. A sledge wielded by one of the deserters slammed into the construct's side, leaving a visible dent, but Conrad's response was just as powerful as he slugged him back with one metal fist. The blow crushed the soldier's cheek and sent him tumbling into the ground, with Conrad not even slowing as trampled him on the way past.

A sudden flurry of movement from a side alley revealed Jaz as she tossed a few small objects unto the fight, each of them erupting with a loud 'bang' and a thick cloud of smoke that quickly obscured the scene. Unable to see through it, Aislin heard only the brutal sounds of Conrad dealing with the blind and choking soldiers.

"So much for plan," Carthack growled, gripping his twin swords tightly. "Stay here," he advised Aislin, who squeaked in protest.

"I'll follow you in and help!"

"No knife, no cat, you stay here," Carthack instructed firmly.

"Stay by my side, Aislin," Praesidium requested. "I will protect you." Aislin nodded her understanding, sorely wishing she still had Sliver in her hands. Satisfied, Carthack stood and after a moment of concentration, charged out of cover.

Carthack's armoured form thundered across the distance between him and his target, a group of six deserters rushing to join the fray. While he was far from quiet, the Kurhanir were caught completely off-guard as the huge escardi shoulder-slammed the closest of the men, driving him into the wall of a house hard enough to shatter the wood and render the ex-soldier unconscious.

Carthack turned to face the other soldiers as they went for their weapons. Slashing in quick succession with his two swords, Carthack felled a man before he could bring his sidearm to bear, then shoved his way into the midst of the group to try and force them to engage him up close.

Aislin watched from the sidelines in astonishment as he took on four men at once in a flurry of swords. He whirled around in a circle with blades extended, forcing his enemies back as the shining sword Aislin had given him sliced through their rusty mail shirts and drew blood. In his spinning attack, first one, then another was disarmed as one of Carthack's swords knocked a sidearm or blade from their hands.

One of his enemies was armed with a huge two-handed sword, easily as long as he was tall, and he swept it back and forth to keep Carthack at bay. The big man used both of his weapons to parry each attack, diverting the sword enough to keep the soldier from landing a direct blow, but the rusty sword he'd been given earlier snapped under the force. Carthack, now at a disadvantage, tossed aside the broken blade and waited for the right moment to strike.

When he narrowly dodged a swing of the huge sword, he moved in behind its path to stand right in front of the deserter. Carthack slammed his elbow into the soldier's face, not once but twice and dropped him to the ground. The big man then grabbed the hilt of the huge sword as it fell and drove it into the soldier's chest. Whirling both of his weapons around in a display of power, Carthack faced down his remaining foes.

It was a perfect beginning to their assault, but the noise was enough to draw attention from all over town. A large group of deserters appeared from around a corner further down the street with their sidearms at the ready. Alone, Carthack would have had no chance against so much fire power, but fortunately, he wasn't.

With Aislin obediently by his side, Praesidium stepped into the middle of the street and calmly faced the oncoming soldiers, standing between them and Carthack. Sensing a rebellion rising in town, the newcomers levelled their weapons and fired a barrage of deafening noise and smoke.

There was no sign the bullets had even hit Praesidium, let alone harmed him. Aislin wasn't sure what to expect from him in the fight and was surprised when he suddenly appeared right in front of one of the men, his hand extended to touch the deserter's forehead. The man suddenly fell to the ground, sound asleep. The others drew their swords and attacked the angel, but quickly learned their weapons were ineffective against the powerful being.

With an expression of dark anger marring his features, Praesidium held out his palm and each one of them dropped to the ground unconscious. He staggered a little and almost fell over himself, but quickly recovered to face off against more oncoming deserters as the town fell into chaos.

Praesidium faced them without fear, but the dozen reinforcements suddenly skidded to a halt as shouted orders echoed from across town, accompanied by the sound of multiple firearms. Their sergeant repeated the words to his men and together, they ignored Carthack and Praesidium and headed back down the street at full speed.

With all the chaos in the streets, the locals were trying to stay out of the fighting but a few of them realised this was their chance to shrug off their oppressors and strike back. Armed with hatchets and clubs, they rushed a few deserters on the edge of the fight, burying them under sheer weight of numbers. Unfortunately, their weapons were only moderately effective against the mail armour of their enemies and before long, they were pushed back.

The deserters hacked away at them without mercy and surely would have slain many of the brave villagers were it not for Praesidium's intervention. With visible strain on his face, he raised his hands and diverted each weapon's arc just before it struck someone, buying them valuable seconds to pull back from the fight.

With the situation getting out of hand, Castor appeared at the entrance to the inn further down the street, carrying Thunderchief in his arms and flanked by two of his most heavily armed men. Over the clamour of the fight, he shouted orders to anyone within earshot and his men responded by turning on the townsfolk. Aislin gasped in dismay as ten deserters bore down on two dozen who were taking cover from the fray.

A scream from the other side of the street caught Aislin's attention and she stared in horror as she saw a young woman struggling against a deserter. She had her back to the wall of a building and held his hands back with her own, barely keeping the tip of his long dagger away from her chest.

"Praesidum, look!" Aislin cried, drawing his attention to the woman's plight. He raised a hand and, much to the surprise of her attacker, the weapon inched away from her body in spite of his best efforts. The woman, sensing she had the upper hand, brought her knee up to his groin and sent him reeling to the ground.

A cry of pain from nearby made Aislin whirl around to see what had happened and was dismayed to see several men whom Praesidium had saved moments ago cut down by the deserters.

"I can't save them all," he muttered with a weak voice, appearing to visibly wilt with each passing moment. Praesidium was barely visible through the throng but as people started to scream, he intervened again. As the deserters tried to cut down the unarmed people, he raised a hand and created a barrier of softly glowing light in front of each potential victim. Any weapon striking such a barrier was stopped in mid-air, much to the surprise and frustration of the soldiers, who redoubled their efforts in response.

Aislin could see the strain on Praesidium's face as he held off a dozen men who were lashing out with their weapons, trying to overwhelm the magical defence. Yet, in spite of their fury, their assault was thwarted again and again, until they suddenly had something else to worry about. Carthack, having dealt with other soldiers on the way here, swung his huge sword in an arc, taking down one man in a single blow and then lunging forward to stab another with the smaller, shining blade.

Aislin had been keeping close to Praesidium during the battle and nobody seemed to notice her. But with his power spread thin, whatever magic he'd used to keep them at bay faltered and a soldier rushed towards her. Fortunately, before he could close in, Keg leaped from a nearby rooftop and went to work on his face.

Glancing around frantically, Aislin spotted a discarded club on the ground and rushed over to grab it, then went to Keg's aid as his victim struggled to pull the enraged cat from his bloodied face. Aislin whacked him on the back of the knee then pummelled him as hard as she could until Carthack swept past and finished him off.

Although the fight was intense, the worst of it was centred around Conrad, who lacked any measure of subtlety in his approach. Anyone who refused to get out of the way received a solid metal fist in their direction, or the burning fires of his ruby eyes. Having emerged from Jaz's smokescreen, the construct was sporting a lot of dents and scratches, but more alarmingly one of his arms was missing, having been wrenched off during the fight.

Gradually, with Conrad coming in from the west and Carthack, Praesidium and Aislin pushing hard from the east, they were all converging on the inn where Castor surveyed the battle with growing alarm. He raised Thunderchief and perched it on a nearby barrel, aiming it straight at Conrad. A massive explosion erupted as he pulled the trigger, blanketing him in smoke.

He narrowly missed Conrad's body, but the shell impacted right next to him and the explosion enveloped him in flame. With some of his parts glowing in the heat and flames wreathing his form, Conrad emerged from the flames unharmed, relentlessly striding forward towards his goal. Certain Castor was reloading for another blast, Aislin grabbed Keg by the scruff and spoke right into his ears.

"Get him before he can fire again," she ordered, knowing the cat was the only thing fast and elusive enough to reach Castor in time. Keg didn't hesitate, speeding off through the chaos in the direction of the inn. More villagers perished in the fight as Praesidium's strength continued to wane, but the expression of growing rage on his face indicated he wasn't done yet.

Something within him changed. He raised a hand towards three deserters and instead of simply falling asleep, a blazing beam of light engulfed them, bright enough to force Aislin to avert her eyes. When she looked again, the men had been reduced to ash.

"What are you doing?" Aislin cried, but Praesidium was no longer listening. He stalked towards the inn, incinerating any soldiers that strayed into his path. Castor, now visible after the smoke had cleared, was frantically reloading Thunderchief as he watched Praesidium closing in on him with vengeance in his golden eyes.

Aislin hurried alongside, tugging at his clothing to get his attention but Praesidium wasn't listening. Half a dozen more men were vanquished in the fiery light and the deserters were starting to flee from the fight in terror. Even the townsfolk were scrambling to clear the way, fearful of the strange being wearing Gavyn's face.

In spite of his best efforts, Keg wasn't able to get through to Castor before he'd finished reloading, and with Praesidium only a few yards away, the rogue officer brought the weapon to bear just in time. Aislin squealed when she saw it coming and dived out of the way just as he pulled the trigger. An explosion engulfed them both, shrouding the area in smoke and fire.

Aislin coughed and sputtered, her ears ringing loudly from the blast, but she otherwise seemed unharmed. As the smoke cleared, she looked around and saw Praesidium on one knee, holding himself upright with one hand on the ground as he struggled to stand. He had survived the direct blast and shielded Aislin from it more than himself, and paid the price.

Looking to Castor, she saw him trying to fend off Keg's ferocious claws as he mauled the Kurhanir leader's hands while Conrad, trailing a plume of smoke stomped up the steps to the inn and loomed over Castor. The two guards next to him had already fled, and with Carthack finishing off the last of the resistance Jaz emerged from hiding and rushed to Aislin's side.

"Ace, you're alive!" she exclaimed, though Aislin could barely hear her over the continued ringing in her ears. She smiled with relief at seeing Jaz safe and sound, but when she spotted Praesidium slowly walking towards a terrified Castor she got back on her feet and rushed to his side.

"Don't do it," she pleaded, trying to stop him from getting any closer.

"He is responsible for this atrocity," Praesidium purred, filled with cold anger in spite of being barely able to walk. "I will end this as I always have, in fire."

"His men are gone and he's alone now," Aislin pressed, unable to stop Praesidium's advance. "Just let him go, you've seen enough blood for a hundred lifetimes. It doesn't have to end like this."

"I have vanquished countless lives," Praesidium responded, staring at Aislin with his glowing golden eyes. "What is one more worthless wretch in the scope of such things?" He raised his hand and Castor suddenly appeared to be choking. His body was lifted from the wooden floor and he stared at Praesidium while clawing at the invisible hands around his throat.

"But if killing so many over the years hasn't made in difference in the world, then what's the point of continuing to do it?" Aislin argued, more for Praesidium's sake than Castor's. Around them in the streets, the people of Mawgan watched in rapt horror as the scene unfolded, uncertain what was going to happen to them.

Castor continued choking, starting to turn blue in the face when Praesidium, who had watched in silence, lowered his hand and released the man. Castor fell to the floor gasping for breath, and Aislin quickly went to his side and handed him the sack of coin's she'd managed to find.

"Don't come back, or he'll find you and finish you off for good," she whispered with a hint of menace in her voice, reaching to his belt to retrieve Sliver. Castor looked up at her with gratitude, grabbed the sack and stumbled to his feet. He didn't stop to look around at the accusing faces glaring at him as he ran out of town as fast as he could.

"Gordon," Aislin suddenly breathed, remembering that he was gravely injured. She waved for Jaz to follow her as she darted inside to see Gordon lying still on the inn floor, matted in his own blood. Aislin gasped when she saw this, noting that he bore several injuries over his body, indicating he had been tortured during her absence.

Jaz barely stopped to take stock of the details as she reached into her satchel to retrieve some of her healing salve. She gingerly peeled back some of Gordon's ruined clothing to expose his wounds, but before she dabbed the salve on, she examined him more closely and then held still with a worried expression on her dark features.

"Is he okay?" Aislin whispered as Carthack came into the room, half-carrying Praesidium under one arm.

"I... he's alive, but only just," Jaz reported in a trembling voice. "I don't know if the salve is going to be enough for him."

"Step aside, child," Praesidium instructed in a weak voice, his glowing eyes flickering dimly. Jaz did as she was told and Carthack brought him closer to Gordon's prone form. The angel reached out and lay one hand on the dwarf's chest, but before he did anything he looked at Aislin with a sorrowful expression.

"I'm sorry I lost control, but for what it's worth, thank you for stopping me, Aislin. The bloodshed has to end sometime." With that, he closed his eyes and his hand began to glow the colour of the morning sun. Moments later, Gordon's eyes opened as his wounds slowly closed over and vanished. Then Praesidium slumped forward and collapsed to the floor.

A single tear trailed down Aislin's cheek. She knew he'd given everything he had to help them and in a way, to redeem himself. She reached out and touched his face, sad at the thought he was now gone forever. But then, a glowing light appeared from Gavyn's body, flickering softly and accompanied by a chorus of beautiful voices as it rose through the room. Then, with a flash, it sped through the open door and disappeared down the road, gone within moments.

"What's going on?" Gavyn croaked, looking around in bewilderment.

"Oh, you're back," Aislin remarked, wiping the tears from her cheek as she smiled at him. "Do you remember anything?"

"A little," he answered, sitting upright as he tried to get his bearings. "I feel like I had a friend visiting and now he's just left. Funny thing is, I have the strongest feeling I'll never see him again."

"I think he's gone," Aislin answered sadly. "He was very tired and feared this would happen."

"No, I don't think so," Gavyn suggested. "He may have been worn out, but I have the feeling he's finally gone home."

"What, back to forest?" Carthack asked curiously.

"No, his other home," Aislin answered with a faint smile.

* * *

The people of Mawgan treated them as heroes, having freed them from Castor's tyranny but a few took issue with Aislin choosing to let him go free. She was unrepentant, taking the time to explain who the 'monster in the forest' was and why he needed to let Castor live. She wasn't sure they believed her, but it was enough to put the issue to bed.

Speaking of such, although Gordon's life had been saved, he was far from well enough to travel, so Jaz and Aislin tucked him into bed, gave him a meal of hot broth and let her salve finish the job. Carthack was snoring loudly in the room next door, for shortly after Praesidium had left, the big man had collapsed as the magic that had kept him on his feet had finally ebbed.

Keg never left Aislin's side, constantly rubbing against her affectionately and purring loudly, clearly thrilled to see her alive and safe. The three of them ate a big meal, courtesy of Gavyn, who was now something of a local hero. The white-haired man regaled them with stories of what happened in the forest, none of them remotely true. But he did hint that the place was unguarded now, and the treasure there was ripe for the taking.

With half the town scouring the deep forest for money, Aislin slumped in the blacksmith's shed with a happy and content Keg dozing across her lap, watching Jaz repair Conrad. The huge construct had taken a beating during the assault on the town, and Jaz said it would take days to fix him.

"When I left the inn this morning, I got a little turned around," Jaz explained while she used a wrench to unfasten a bolt on Conrad's side. "I wasn't sure where I'd left him exactly, and I had guards chasing me around. Thankfully, Keg showed up to lead me in the right direction. But then, I didn't know if I should come charging straight back into town or wait for help. I sort of dithered about for a bit then figured I should at least try to free you."

"You were a little early," Aislin remarked sleepily. "Praesidium was just about to put his plan into action when Conrad spoiled everything. I reckon it worked out for the best though. Praesidium was weaker than he thought and he couldn't have done it on his own, or with Carthack's help."

"Was he really an angel?" Jaz asked, pausing in her work to stare in wonder at Aislin.

"I think so, but he's wasn't like the legends you might have heard about," Aislin answered ruefully. "He was sort of mean and cold, and he's hurt a lot of people over his lifetime."

"Bad people, I expect?"

"Most likely yes, but it took a toll on him in the long run. I think he's going to be okay now, though I expect his family might have words with him."

"Aren't we just stumbling across the most extraordinary things?" Jaz asked with a wide grin, which Aislin had trouble denying.

"It's getting cold so I think I'm going to head inside," she eventually answered, then noticed something curious on Conrad's left leg. "What's that marking for? Some sort of magical enchantment?"

"Hm?" Jaz responded hazily, glancing down at the area in question. The marking was a strange sort of squiggle, etched into the metal. "Oh that," Jaz added after a few moment's thought. "Yes, it's a protective sigil, one of many I inscribed on his body while making him."

"Really? I don't recall seeing that one before," Aislin pointed out.

"Well, you know, it's all technical and such," Jaz said with a dismissing wave. "Anyway, go and warm up, I'll be inside when I've hammered out some of these dents. I hope you don't mind that we'll be staying here for a few days. I know you're eager to rescue Madelyn."

"She'll have to wait," Aislin sighed. "We've been pushing too hard lately and the boys need some rest. We all do, really. I couldn't think of a better place."

"Okay, well, see you shortly," Jaz muttered, already back at work. Aislin heaved Keg off her legs, much to his annoyance, then got to her feet and headed for the door. With the big sleepy cat trotting along beside her, she impulsively turned to look back at Jaz just before leaving the smithy and noticed she was staring at the marking, almost as if she'd never seen it before.

### 8

Daughters

The winter winds outside Fort Nordgrenze howled over its stone battlements, while inside its halls a storm of a different kind was brewing. "Is this some sort of joke?" Maximilian demanded, waving a piece of paper in Yuri's face. To his credit, the lieutenant was unflinching as he looked on with his usual stoic expression.

"I'm certain it's genuine, sir," he answered, hiding any amusement he might be experiencing. "It bears the ducal seal and is in the handwriting of the High Secretary himself, who is usually tasked with these sorts of messages. Is there a problem?"

"They know damn well I've separated from my wife," Max bristled, "so inviting me to the Ducal Ball strikes me as a little insensitive. That, and the only thing I detest more than official dinners is official dancing."

"You may be an officer, but you're also a nobleman so I wouldn't dismiss this opportunity so quickly, Major," Yuri counselled as Max paced back and forth before the fireplace. "My sources in the capitol say that in the wake of the disaster at Aurumgaard, many are pointing out that you, the rightful commander of the northern forces, advised against this reckless action."

"Grand Duke Lothar fully backed Osric's plans," Max remarked, leaning against his desk with his arms crossed. "I can't imagine he likes people pointing out that I was right and he was wrong, satisfying though it is."

"Far from it, he's actually embracing the praise coming your way, riding your surge in popularity as it were," Yuri corrected. "This invitation is a sign of that. If you were truly out of favour, do you think they'd want you to parade about with the nobility?"

"I don't have time for this nonsense, Yuri. Is there any way out of it?"

"No, this is their way of apologising to you while still saving face, and it's a chance for you to gracefully acknowledge this without rubbing their faces in it. You have to go." Max growled and rubbed the stubble on his chin before finally surrendering to his lieutenant's advice.

"Fine, I'll go, but you're coming with me."

"It would probably be wise to take a lady along with you, sir," Yuri answered dryly. "Slow dancing with your second-in-command would raise some eyebrows." Max gave him a reproachful look before mulling over the issue.

"Anika could probably use an evening out," he muttered, thinking of his ex-wife and her constant workload. "We've been getting along better of late so I doubt she'd say no. The only problem is she can't dance either, but I guess we'll muddle through for the sake of appearances. Tell me, did Osric get away alright this morning? I imagine he had one hell of a hangover."

"I left it up to the men to escort him to his carriage," Yuri replied with a rare smile. "After waking him before dawn, Sergeant Kopernic and an honour guard personally marched him out through the fort's stone halls in their heavy mail boots, taking care to be as loud as possible."

"That's the spirit," Max remarked in satisfaction. "They're settling in now I take it?"

"They seem to be, yes. Three of their injured men have returned to active duty and they're about to start their drills to get back into shape. We've supplies and weapons due tomorrow so they'll be able to practice with the latest firearms, straight from the factory. Kopernic did mention he detests the things but he's at least willing to learn."

"I know how they feel," Max noted, glancing around the room in thought. "Well, if I'm going to surprise Anika I'd better get ready. Where's my dress uniform?"

"Still in your office, sir. I mean, your other office," Yuri corrected himself.

"Very well, carry on. You're in command during my absence, which I plan to keep as brief as possible," Max instructed as he headed for the door. He returned Yuri's salute and headed down the hall to his original office, which he now thought of as Madelyn's. He knocked twice and waited to hear her consent before turning the handle and stepping inside, silently noting that he wouldn't offer this courtesy to any of his other prisoners.

"I'm sorry to intrude madam," he apologised with a slight bow as he closed the door. "I'll keep this visit brief, as I'll..." His voice trailed off as he turned and saw Madelyn standing there in a long blue dress that was very familiar to him.

"Good morning, Major," she greeted him lightly. "I hope you don't mind my wearing this, I found it in a box of old things buried at the rear of your closet. Those other garments you'd provided were ill-fitting and chafed in all the wrong places."

Max was silent and unmoving, dealing with conflicting emotions roiling beneath his stony expression. With her bright blue eyes, long dark hair and pale skin, the dress completed a picture he'd subconsciously been putting together for the last week.

"That belonged to my daughter," he managed to utter with a catch in his throat. "It fits you well."

"Do you think so?" she replied as she held the hem off the ground and twirled. "I feel a little over-dressed, maybe even indulgent to wear something like this in such an austere setting."

"If you are comfortable, I have no objection," Max answered gruffly, heading across the room towards his closet.

"You're upset, I can tell," Madelyn shrewdly remarked. "Does your daughter want this returned?"

"She passed away a few years ago," Max answered in a tight voice. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Madelyn offered, suddenly standing very still. "This is inappropriate, and I shall change back immediately."

"You can wait until I'm done here, I shouldn't be more than ten minutes," Max offered, searching through his collection of uniforms for the one he sought.

"Are we not having our usual interrogation today?" she asked with a hint of disappointment one would not ordinarily expect from a prisoner.

"I have a prior engagement in the capital, but I will return by tomorrow night. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get ready." Madelyn moved to the other side of the room behind a curtain, giving him some space to change into his dress uniform. When he emerged, he stood before the room's full-length mirror to apply the final touches.

"Damnable thing," he muttered to himself as he adjusted his neck tie.

"Well, don't you cut a striking figure," Madelyn remarked as she peeked around the edge of the curtain.

"I usually have a valet to help with such things, but we're undermanned and he's currently learning how to shoot a firearm."

"I'm sure you'll make an impact at whatever function you're heading to."

"I wish I shared your enthusiasm, my lady," Max answered as he tried to make his tie sit straight. "I find the whole affair a waste of my time. Imagine a professional soldier such as I, asked to dance of all things. It's preposterous."

"What's this? Is the gallant soldier afraid?" Madelyn taunted, moving to one side to better examine his outfit.

"I don't see how I can garner the respect of my peers if I'm stumbling about on the floor, trying not to trip over myself or my partner."

"I trust you have someone experienced to guide you?" Madelyn inquired.

"My ex-wife will accompany me," he answered, neglecting to mention she couldn't dance either.

"Stop worrying it so much," Madelyn whispered absently, reaching up to his tie and pushing his hands away. She adjusted the tie with expert hands, undoing the knot and starting over.

"If I were a more paranoid man," Max mused aloud as she worked, "I might assume you were planning to strangle me with my own neck tie." She responded by pulling on the tie to nestle it into place, giving him a start.

"But then who would I enjoy such pleasant conversations with," she remarked, smoothing the tie down as she looked on approvingly. "There, you're all set."

"Thank you," Max answered with a quiet voice. Though she was looking at him in the mirror, he was paying more attention to her.

"You'll look the part, but I can make no guarantees as to your dancing," Madelyn advised. "I know you can't stand such things, but I envy you, sir." She backed away from the mirror and twirled expertly into the centre of the room in a way Anika almost certainly wouldn't. He watched her wistfully for a moment as she pirouetted about in a carefree fashion, then came to a decision.

"Would you care to accompany me, my lady?" he asked, surprised to hear the words coming out of his own mouth. Madelyn stopped dancing and stared at him in surprise.

"You do understand that I'd have to leave this room, right?" she teased.

"Obviously," he responded blandly. "I would ask for your word as a lady that you would not attempt to escape. To be honest, Anika is worse than I at such things and I need this evening to go well. Also, you're already dressed for the occasion."

"I am at that," she agreed with a cautious smile, seeming to weigh the possibility that this was some sort of trick. "Very well, I accept your request and give you my word that I'll be a good girl, if only to get out of this place for a little while. You'll even be able to interrogate me on the way there."

"Excellent," Max murmured, genuinely pleased as he reached for his ceremonial broadsword and clasped it around his waist. "Find yourself something warm to wear over the top, it's quite bracing outside. We'll be departing shortly so don't delay." Madelyn's cautious expression was flooded with genuine delight as she rushed to the closet to find something else to wear.

Max put on his winter longcoat and noted that Madelyn had found one of her own to wear, appearing like a small girl enveloped in the oversized coat. When they emerged from the room, the two guards at the door exchanged a curious glance but a stern look from Maximilian had them snapping their gaze straight ahead once more. Unfortunately, the same technique was ineffective on Yuri who met them at the entrance to the courtyard as they left the relatively warm confines of the fort's interior.

"You can't do this, sir," he blurted as he saw Madelyn linked with Max's arm.

"She has given her parole, Yuri," he pointed out, not stopping on their way to the safety of the coach. It was well known amongst the fort's population that Madelyn was a prisoner and as soldiers noticed them passing by, their looks of astonishment mirrored Yuri's.

"I do not question her word," Yuri muttered as he fell into step alongside, "she is a prisoner, and you probably shouldn't be seen consorting with her in the Ducal Palace of all places."

"Nobody there will know who she is," Maximilian said as the driver opened the coach door. "Frankly, if this evening is to be as important as you say then I need every edge I can get. Lady Madelyn is a noble woman and more than proficient in dancing, which is more than I can say for Anika. Frankly, I think I'm doing her a favour by sparing her the embarrassment." Yuri sighed audibly as Max assisted Madelyn into the coach, before climbing aboard himself.

"I can't say I'm happy about it, but I'll follow your lead, sir," the lieutenant finally agreed.

"Make sure the walls don't fall over in my absence," Max instructed dryly, returning Yuri's salute before the driver closed the door. Relieved to be away, he settled back in his seat as the coach trundled out the gate and along the rough roads.

Usually tedious, the journey proved to be a welcome diversion from the pressures of command, thanks to Maximilian's charming companion. Madelyn's spirit was buoyed by the change of scenery, and she watched the countryside speed past with her bright blue eyes drinking in every detail. She spoke of her time living in Aielund and the way the country worked, with Max remarking on their differences as well as the things they had in common.

More of a soldier than a diplomat, he quite liked what he'd heard of the northern kingdom and silently regretted the small fact they were technically enemies. With luck, they would never come to blows and one day, might even forge an alliance, but this was unlikely with the help Kurhain had given Osric Davignon, a sworn enemy of the Aielish Queen.

Max kept these thoughts quiet and allowed himself to be enchanted by Madelyn's banter. They stopped to sample the local pastries and stretch their legs at the industrial city of Aussict, where Max was pleased to see the heavy smoke from the forges had dissipated a great deal compared to a few months ago. Unwilling to risk bumping into his ex-wife while he had Madelyn in tow, he ushered her back into the coach after a few minutes and continued on their way.

Their conversation continued as before, this time beginning with comments regarding her blue dress. Without even realising it, Max suddenly found himself talking about his deceased daughter. At first, he related stories of her growing up, and how grateful Anika and he were to have such a vibrant daughter in their life. When Madelyn asked about how she died, Max hesitated for only a moment before, to his surprise, answering her question.

"She fell into an icy lake," he intoned without feeling, removing the feel of levity the two had shared during the long journey in an instant. "She loved to play in the snow and strayed a little too far onto the lake's surface, only to find a thin patch. I still recall her scream, cut off suddenly when her head went underwater."

"She drowned?" Madelyn asked in little more than a whisper.

"No, I ran in to save her," Max answered, staring out at the cold countryside. "It was close, but she survived. That water was the coldest thing I've ever felt, but for Gunhilde it was the last thing she would ever feel. We brought her inside and lay her next to the fire, piling on as many blankets as we could find. I thought she was in the clear even as she lay there shaking like a leaf. She couldn't stop herself. When she started to turn blue, we knew something was wrong."

"Was there nothing you could do?" Madelyn inquired softly.

"Anika screamed at me to fetch a priest," he confided. "A few minutes ride away, there was one in town who could work some minor miracles. He was shunned by most of the people and barely tolerated, in spite of his best efforts to heal the sick and injured. I couldn't do it though. The very thought that this mystic, in thrall to some kind of powerful spirit, would use that power on my daughter was abhorrent. Who knows what kind of person she would become as a result of it? No, in that moment I decided that I would prefer my daughter die, rather than risk being twisted by some bizarre sorcery."

Silence settled over Maximilian and his companion as he finally said the words he had never, ever said aloud. In retrospect, hearing them made him seem like a monster and he wouldn't blame Madelyn for labelling him as such.

"Within hours, she died in my arms," Max concluded when it became apparent Madelyn was too shocked to say anything. "Anika has never forgiven me and to be honest, I've never forgiven myself, either. Anika moved out a few months later when it became clear our marriage was over. I can't say that I blame her, given the circumstances." He stopped talking and continued watching the world go by through the coach window, thinking about the choices he made in life and what he had to give up to keep going.

Their conversation over, neither of them spoke for the rest of the journey which was, thankfully, almost over. With the sun setting in the west, the coach finally arrived at the Ducal Palace, where dozens of other carriages were depositing the city's elite.

"Listen," Max spoke as he awkwardly smoothed down his longcoat. "You've agreed to accompany me this evening and I'm grateful, but I'll understand if, given recent revelations, you're no longer willing. I'll deposit you at the local barracks for the night and make other arrangements."

Madelyn favoured him with an appraising look, leaving him in the dark as to what thoughts were going through her mind until she finally spoke.

"My mother was quite the - shall we say - 'religious enthusiast'," she remarked delicately. "I won't bore you with the details of my horrid upbringing, so I will say only that I too have no love for the priesthood and, given the same circumstances, I can't say I would have chosen differently than you. But more than that Major, you are a victim of this country's paranoia towards the supernatural, and I won't believe for a second yours is the only tragedy to come from the Kurhanir distrust of magic. In short, you're suffering enough already without me piling more guilt on top of it."

The coach rolled to a stop and within moments, the door was opened by one of the palace footmen, who waited expectantly for them to step outside.

"Come, sir," Madelyn offered Max with a wan smile. "Our evening awaits."

Genuinely moved that she would go through with it in spite of learning about his past, he returned the smile and together, they alighted on the palace steps. She slipped her arm through his as they walked up the stairs to the main entrance, looking every bit like the stately couple they weren't.

"Straighten your back, don't slouch," Madelyn hissed as they passed an older couple scrutinising the newcomers. Max complied with her orders, knowing full well she was much better at this sort of thing than he. Another footman offered to take their coats as they entered the warmth of the palace's entryway, and once divested of the heavy winter garments the couple sauntered into the room with the other guests.

"There's Lord General Graham and his wife Sabine," Max remarked without surprise when he spotted the couple mingling with the guests. "They're always showing up to these events. I think we should try and avoid anyone I know in case they ask questions about your -"

Before Max could finish the sentence, Madelyn had subtly dragged him in the direction of the general and his wife, who had just noticed their arrival. Sabine was as delicate and graceful as ever, and her husband was sporting a bristly set of mutton chops, evidently haven fallen victim to the current style.

"Major Strauss, it's always nice to see you get out of that fort once in a while," Sabine greeted him with genuine pleasure, without taking her eyes from Madelyn. "I had a small wager placed on you coming along to the ball, though Clancy didn't seem to think you'd show. Looks like I'm a richer woman tonight."

"My Lord, my Lady," Maximilian replied with a short bow to cover his dismay at the sudden change in direction.

"Are you going to introduce your lovely companion?" Sabine suggested eagerly.

"Of course, forgive me," Max stammered. "May I present the Lady Madelyn, visiting from the distant city of Fairloch in the north."

"I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance," Madelyn gushed enthusiastically, apparently pretending to be less intelligent than he knew her to be. Her Korat was near-perfect, and Max idly wondered if he could have passed her off as a native of the country.

"And how do you know our dear Maximilian?" Sabine asked with intense curiosity.

"Oh, I'm a prisoner..." Madelyn answered, waiting a moment to enjoy their shocked reaction before finishing her sentence with "...of love! Max and I met a few weeks ago and the dashing chap has simply swept me off my feet."

"Is that so?" Sabine remarked as Max's heart started beating again. "I had no idea he was seeing someone. Good for you, Maxi, and how clever of you to keep it a secret."

"Cleverness had nothing to do with it," Max responded blandly.

"Lovely to meet you madam, and yes it's good to see you Max, in more ways than one," General Graham greeted him, shaking his hand. "Your star is on the rise, my boy, there's no doubt about it."

"I've heard. Apparently Osric's plan fell to pieces and nobody saw it coming except me."

"Not too loud, sir," Clancy advised in a conspiratorial whisper. He flickered a glance to his right and Max noticed Madelyn turn a little paler as her eyes locked onto something unpleasant. Maximilian turned slowly, having already guessed that Osric was amongst the crowd nearby, and indeed he was, moving amongst the indifferent couples with a drink in his hand. Although clean-shaven, there was a hollow look to his eyes that suggested he hadn't even recovered from the last bout of drunkenness.

"Not unexpected, though he doesn't appear to be very popular," Max remarked with silent satisfaction.

"He's lucky to still have his head on his shoulders," the lord general muttered. "The Grand Duke still has a use for him though, something about 'specialised knowledge' or some such, so he's not going anywhere. Anyway, we're happy to have you reinstated as Northern Commander, and the general staff rue the day we entrusted so many of our soldiers to a foreigner."

"The title is meaningless without a force to command," Max prompted, only to be interrupted by Sabine.

"Gentlemen, you can talk shop tomorrow, we are here to dance," she reminded him through clenched teeth.

"Quite right, forgive me, dearest," Clancy responded with a bow. "I say, is that Lord Heinrich? I haven't seen him in public for months. Excuse me ladies and gentleman, I need to have a word with the old fellow."

"Help yourselves to some of the entrees," Sabine suggested as she followed her husband through the crowd to a man of middle age with a neat goatee beard, wearing fine clothing that appeared a little rough in places.

Madelyn intercepted a footman carrying a tray of bite-sized food, giggling like a simple-minded teenager for the benefit of the handsome lad carrying the tray.

"Why do you play the fool?" Max muttered to Madelyn as she ate as many of the small bacon and cheese snacks as she could without attracting too much attention.

"You should know it's never a good strategy to let your enemy know exactly how smart you are," she answered softly, composing herself and dusting crumbs from her dress. "Besides, I'm having fun mocking these people without them realising it. I'm reminded of my days in Finishing School, honing my subtle insults to a fine edge." Before he could answer, Max heard the sound of music emanating from the main hall as a small orchestra began playing. Clancy and Sabine caught Max's eye and gave him a nod to indicate it was time for the ball to begin, then headed in that direction along with the rest of the crowd.

"Alright, let's get this over with," Maximilian muttered as he threaded an arm around her waist and guided her forward.

"You know, I neglected to ask - do you even know how to dance?"

"It's been a while," Max conceded, marvelling at the high ceiling and elegance of the hall.

"How long?" Madelyn pressed, ignoring the finery around them.

"About twenty years," he answered as they moved to the floor along with dozens of other couples.

"I can see I have my work cut out for me," she sighed as they linked hands and began a slow dance. He hadn't lied about his lack of skills – he felt ungainly and brutish as he struggled not to step on Madelyn's dainty feet, but she was quicker than he and managed to guide him well enough to avoid catastrophe. It wasn't helping that Max spied Osric, watching him from wings with the other people who, for whatever reason, weren't there to dance.

It was clear he was seething with rage, both at his fall from grace and Max's vindication concerning the recent military debacle at Aurumgaard. Of greater concern was Osric's knowledge of Madelyn's true status, and even while they danced, Max noticed Osric gesturing towards her as he spoke to lords and ladies around the room.

Madelyn kept trying to draw Maximilian's attention back to the task at hand, attempting to ensure he put on a good show and didn't embarrass either of them, yet he was more concerned with what Osric was up to.

By the time the first dance had ended, Max was thinking of excuses to leave early, but then the Grand Duke and Duchess arrived, resplendent in their finery, to the polite applause of the guests.

"Good evening my friends," Lothar announced with a raised voice, which still sounded reedy and thin in spite of the volume. "We apologise for our tardiness, but there were matters of state to attend to. It is, as always, a pleasure to host our annual ball. Now if you'll make some room, my wife and I will begin the next dance."

As a wave the crowd parted, allowing Lothar and Frieda to gracefully take the floor. Once in position, the orchestra started the next song and the couple moved about in a rigid but respectable performance. While they twirled about, Maximilian noticed Osric moving amongst the crowd, continuing to spread rumours amongst the assembled guests and by the look of it, he was having an impact.

Dark looks were cast in the direction of the major and his companion, who could see people whispering to each other as the rumours circulated. Flushed with silent rage and a little embarrassment, Max knew this was going to cause trouble if he didn't do something about it.

"He's going to be the ruin of us," he growled to Madelyn, who appeared far less confident now that the other guests were becoming suspicious.

"I'd say we should depart, but that would do more harm to your reputation than good at this point," she whispered into his ear.

"This is my fault for not eliminating him when I had the chance," he responded grimly, his gaze locked on Osric, who seemed to delight in the discomfort he was causing. "A moment of pity could end up costing me."

"How do we shut him up? Perhaps you should call him out and embarrass him in front of everyone."

"That's not exactly my area of expertise," Max remarked as a risky idea occurred to him. "Osric is little more than a joke here at the moment, but given time, he'll worm his way back to the top once more. Only the Grand Duke's intercession kept him alive, but there's a way I can remove Osric's threat within the rules of society."

"What are you planning?" Madelyn asked suspiciously as Max pulled away from her.

"A duel," he answered as the music finished and the guests applauded the Grand Duke and his wife. Max ignored them, instead focusing his vision on Osric as he gently pushed his way through the crowd, a viper amongst sheep, who were only partially aware of the danger the fallen king represented.

The guests seemed annoyed with Max as he roughly made his way through their ranks, drawing closer to his prey. The major reached inside his dress coat and grasped the hilt of Gunhilde, knowing this was finally the time to put Osric out of their collective misery. He was all set to call his challenge to Osric and draw down on him, when someone else shoved his way between them.

Max recognised him as Lord Heinrich, the man General Graham had spoken to briefly before the dance. He appeared dishevelled, unshaven and out of sorts, but of greater importance was the sidearm he held high, pointed directly at Osric. The nearest guests screamed and backed away and Max, caught off-guard by this development, moved with them and practically backed into Madelyn, who had rushed to his side.

"Osric Davignon," Heinrich called over the noise of the crowd, "you have defiled my daughter and ruined the reputation of my family." Osric whirled around and locked eyes with the man as a vacant space appeared between them, only a dozen metres apart. The orchestra awkwardly screeched to a halt as all eyes turned to the centre of the room. "I challenge you to a duel, sir, for the honour of my family."

"Who is he talking about?" Madelyn whispered in a hushed voice to Max, who had to think about it for a moment before the realisation dawned on him.

"He's the father of Lady Evangelina," he breathed, "a young lady whom Osric assaulted months ago. She refused to say it was him and the matter was closed, but I knew, and so apparently does Heinrich."

"A duel?" Osric laughed harshly, suddenly the centre of attention. "I think you've taken leave of your senses, sir. Nevertheless, I accept -"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Heinrich pulled the trigger and fired. The weapon discharged with an almighty 'bang', blanketing the area in smoke. Max coughed and swept a hand before him to clear the air a little, hoping against hope that his problem had just been solved.

To his dismay, he saw Osric was still standing there, the aura of a ghostly suit of armour flickering around him briefly.

"Well that was just rude," he complained, dusting off his coat before raising one hand, which now bore a gauntlet of dark metal. "My turn," he declared moments before a blast of crackling green energy shot out from his extended hand and engulfed Lord Heinrich completely. A heartbeat later, there was only a pile of smoking ash on the ground and a deathly silence in the air as Osric lurched around, leering at the horrified onlookers who shied back from his extended hand.

"Does anyone else take issue with me?" he shouted to the silent onlookers, challenging anyone to step forward. Having just witnessed his power, nobody spoke until a woman in the crowd screamed, starting a tidal wave of terrified guests screaming and running for the exit.

"Come on, we can't stay here or there may be some questions regarding who you are," Max shouted to Madelyn over the noise, guiding her through the throng with one arm. On his way out, he caught the eye of the Grand Duchess, who looked back at him with plaintive eyes. Even without exchanging words, Max knew what she meant – Osric had to be eliminated, but as of that moment, the career soldier had no idea how to make that happen.

As they left the grand hall, Max looked over his shoulder and saw Osric grinning at him, blowing a waft of smoke from his gauntlet and waving goodbye with his other hand. Madelyn, who also noticed this, looked up to Max as they descended the stairs towards their coach as fast as they could.

"Why did he spare us?" she hissed. "If he wants us dead so badly, why didn't he shoot?"

"My standing with the Grand Duke is still too high for him to simply assassinate me," Max surmised as he waited impatiently for the coach to pull around. "Osric wants things back the way they were, where the people of the court held him in high regard. He may have been drunk, but he's no fool." The scene was chaotic as the wealthy guests, unused to the sight of death – or of such heinous sorcery used in their midst – fled the palace. Max pulled out Gunhilde in case he needed it, but in the face of recent events, he came to a grave conclusion.

"I don't think this is going to be enough," he muttered, staring down at the magnificent weapon.

### 9

### Pass

Almost an entire week went by before Jaz declared Gordon ready to travel, even though he'd stubbornly claimed to be good to go three days earlier. He didn't protest too much, as the grateful people of Mawgan were treating Aislin and her friends to some of their finest cooking, citing the need to 'fatten them up a bit'.

In addition to the wealth of good food, each of them was given a pouch of coins taken from the Mawganfel, now deserted aside from the occasional bear. The townsfolk were gradually scouring the ruins for wealth, though there wasn't as much there as the rumours had once hinted. Still, it was enough to make everyone in town moderately well-off, and the mayor promised to use a good deal of it to improve roads and buildings throughout Mawgan.

A service was held for those lost in the battle to free the town, those who Praesidium couldn't save. It was a solemn affair presided over by a local priest who was in awe of the presence of a celestial being, even an angry, violent one. The kindly, balding priest spoke of peace, love and community, tenets completely at odds with Praesidium's nature.

Although young, Aislin exchanged a knowing glance with Carthack as she learned about the concept of irony. On top of all this, she knew all too well the feeling of losing friends and family, which only served to remind her of why they were out here, so far from home. Becoming impatient with the delay, she leafed through Gordon's map collection to learn more about where they were going.

This led to discussion of an important topic, that of how the small group was going to make their way further south with the mountain pass blocked by snow. Aislin was upset at the thought of being stuck in Mawgan for the entire winter and, no matter how pleasant that might be, her concern for Madelyn's safety kept her tossing at turning at night. Fortunately, Jaz had the solution which she demonstrated one brisk morning.

Conrad, fully repaired and with both arms intact, held a huge snow shovel and, following her spoken command, began to clear the streets after the previous night's fall.

"Look at him go," she exclaimed in delight as the towering construct easily scooped a shovel full of snow and tossed it to one side, watched cautiously by a number of locals who kept a discreet distance. Jaz had to carefully adjust her orders now and then to make sure Conrad didn't put the shovel through the wall of someone's house, but otherwise he seemed tireless.

With the demonstration complete, the question of their departure was answered and Aislin hurried to her room to pack. Before long, she and her companions were gathered on the road to the south, waving goodbye to the locals as Conrad ploughed into the snow. Gavyn, standing at the front of the assembled villagers, waved back but that wasn't good enough for Aislin, who demanded and received a hug.

"Getting through the pass is going to be harder than you think," he warned. "Are you sure you won't stay the winter?"

"We can't wait any longer," Aislin answered. "The thought of sitting around here for weeks while my friend is held captive is too much to bear. Don't worry, we'll make it through."

"Take care of yourself," Gavyn mumbled fondly, evidently unused to expressing himself like this. Aislin responded with a grin and a reassuring wink, then hurried to join the others.

They progressed at a reasonable pace to begin with, as the trail wasn't too clogged at this point, but by noon Conrad was up to his waist in snow, which meant Gordon and the two girls could no longer even see over the side of the icy passage. The huge construct's metal arms never tired, but the magic within had limits on how fast he could move. Carthack had the foresight to bring along a large shovel of his own, and with construct and man working together, they kept moving forward.

Keg's head poked out of the top of the big man's pack, hinting the cat was having trouble deciding between enduring the cold, or being jostled about in the pack as Carthack worked. Keg eventually disappeared within once more, evidently deciding he'd rather put up with the bumpy ride than leave his cosy space.

Aislin and the other, smaller people followed in Conrad's wake, happy to be moving through the frozen countryside once again even though Gordon was still recovering from his ordeal in Mawgan. Between her and Jaz, they were doting over him every few minutes, much to his annoyance.

"Would you two quit fussin' over me?" Gordon barked grumpily after a while. "It's like being pecked at by a couple o' mother hens."

"Buk buk," Jaz quipped, drawing a laugh from Aislin.

"It's great to see you back on your feet Mister MacTavish," she explained, "we're just worried about what those horrid soldiers did to you while we were gone."

"Ah, well, don't concern yerselves with that sort o' thing," he replied with sudden understanding. "We made a lot o' enemies back at Aurumgaard, and those men had learned to hate me and me kin fer bein' too tough to beat. Bloody soldiers decided to take it out on me is all. But they got what was comin' to them, thanks to your glowin' friend. Mind you, I'm not sure I would've let Castor go. I get why you did it though lass, yer just a better person than I."

Aislin didn't answer, though she still had doubts about the choice she made. The conversation died down over the next hour as the weather took a turn for the worse, with strong winds whipping up a flurry of blinding snow. Visibility dropped to a few yards and the snow was flying in almost horizontally. Conrad kept working in spite of this, but even Carthack's arms grew tired after hours of digging his way through the ever-deepening snow.

"We should turn back," he cried over the punishing winds, which were even worse at his altitude. "Storm getting worse from here."

"The path has filled in behind us," Gordon shouted, pointing behind him to make sure he was understood. "It'll take us just as long to go back as it is to keep goin'."

"Need shelter," Carthack bellowed. "Risking girl's life in this." Gordon put his back to the wind and took out his map, grasping it firmly to stop it blowing away in the freezing gale. Aislin and Jaz huddled against each other to conserve heat, but it was barely enough.

"There's a traveller's inn along this road," Jaz shouted to the dwarf. "It can't be too far away."

"I make it three miles," Gordon answered. "Our progress has been much slower than I woulda liked. I don't see that we've much choice but to press on." He reached into his pack and pulled out a winter blanket, which he draped over the two girls to provide an extra layer of protection against the elements.

Between Conrad's towering form, the walls of the path he was carving for them and the driving snow, Aislin couldn't really see much and had to content herself with walking at a measured pace, hoping they would make it to shelter sooner rather than later. It was unclear where exactly the sun was in the sky, having been obscured by heavy clouds all day, but the light was beginning to fade before Carthack finally caught sight of the inn just up ahead.

"They snowed in," he called, pointing at something nobody else could see. "No lights, no smoke," he added dubiously.

"Oh," Jaz muttered, appearing to remember something important. "That's right, the place is closed down in the winter months because the traders can't get through this pass."

"So, the bloody place is locked tight?" Gordon groaned. "Lovely." Aislin jumped in place a few times to see what they were talking about, and caught a glimpse of the tall, dark building sitting forlornly just off the side of the road, or at least where the road would be if it wasn't covered in several feet of snow.

Jaz ordered Conrad to clear a path to the building and before long, he broke through the barrier of white to reveal frozen wooden steps leading high up to the front porch. With the light fading, Aislin spoke the word 'lux' and a small but powerful light shone from a magic bracelet on her wrist, illuminating the sheltered area and revealing a very strong-looking door with an equally strong lock.

"I guess they don't like visitors coming in while they're away," Jaz muttered.

"I open," Carthack offered, moving to stand before the door with the clear intention of heaving his shoulder against it, but Gordon raised his hands to stop him.

"Woah, easy there big fella," he cried.

"But it's an emergency," Jaz protested, hopping about to keep warm in the freezing wind. "They wouldn't mind if we broke in to save our lives, right? We can fix it afterward."

"We'll do this the proper way, thank ye very much," Gordon grunted, withdrawing a set of lockpicks from his belt pouch. "What's that?" he called in an overly loud voice. "Yer locked out? Let me help ya with that."

"Who are you talking to?" Aislin asked curiously.

"Why, I do happen to be a professional locksmith," Gordon added in the same tone, giving Aislin a wink before confiding, "just need to cover meself in case there's someone around."

The lock proved to be challenging, even for a 'professional locksmith', but after a minute of fiddling around it finally clicked, allowing them to enter. The door practically blew itself open as soon as the handle was turned, and Carthack had to put his weight against it to get it closed again once they were all inside. Jaz shouted one last order for Conrad to guard the entrance before the wind was finally shut out, its presence reduced to a mournful howl gusting through the eaves.

"Hello?" Gordon called to the vast empty space before them. The common room of the traveller's inn was roomy and well furnished, but also completely dark beyond the range of Aislin's small light.

When it became apparent there was nobody else home, Gordon immediately made his way to the fireplace and set about lighting a fire, while the others huddled nearby. Once the fire was going, they set up an impromptu camp within its warm influence and cooked their evening meal.

Keg finally emerged from Carthack's pack as the bitter chill in the air subsided, and to Aislin's amusement he immediately went to the front door and scratched at it to go outside.

"You're crazy, but okay," Aislin said with a shrug, opening the door a crack to let him out and struggling to get it closed again, before Gordon hurried over to give her a hand. Just before it shut, Keg, who had been outside for all of ten seconds, dashed through the gap and shook the snow from his fur.

"That was quick," Aislin laughed, which Keg ignored as he wandered over to the fireplace and settled down in front of it to soak up as much heat as he could.

They ate a hearty meal and shortly after it was done, Carthack promptly fell asleep on a pile of cushions he'd assembled from the surrounding furniture. Seizing upon the idea, Aislin used her magical light to search through the inn's rooms for pillows and blankets, and brought them back to the common room, piling them up on the floor as a kind of pillow fort for them to see out the night.

Aislin slept soundly in her fortress of comfort and when the group awoke the next morning, brilliant sunlight was streaming in through gaps in the shutters. The first to rise, she shuffled over to the door and peered outside to see clear blue skies framing a single mountain peak rising above the others, shining brightly in the morning sun.

"That's Mount Liberty," Jaz answered her unasked question, having quietly followed Aislin to the door. "They renamed it on the day Lyden was founded, roughly eighty years ago."

"What did it used to be called?" Aislin asked.

"It was named after some Ramidian general," Jaz answered with a shrug. "Just like practically everything else in the old country. This is a better name for it by far, I think. More than anything else, this tells me I'm nearly home."

"Can you see it from your house?" Aislin asked, drawing a nod from her friend.

"With the weather clearing up, we'll be there by the end of the day. I love my country so much and I'm really excited to show you around."

Beginning to share her excitement, Aislin closed the door and made her way over to the fireplace to stir up the smouldering coals while Jaz woke the others. Once they'd eaten and dressed, Aislin took care to put everything back where she'd found it.

"I used to work at an inn, remember?" she pointed out to the others. "There's nothing that irritates me more than people leaving a mess in their rooms when they go." Gordon gave her tangled hair an affectionate tousle as they emerged from the inn into the cold morning light.

"Where's Conrad?" Carthack rumbled as they looked out over the snow-covered land, devoid of any towering metal men.

"He should have stayed where I told him," Jaz fretted, looking around for any sign of her magical construct. "Conrad! Come to me," she called, and immediately had her answer as the deep snow in front of the inn's steps exploded outwards, revealing Conrad's raised arms as he started to dig his way towards them.

"That's some deep snow right there," Gordon remarked with a chuckle. "Good thing we're on the down slope now," he added after a glance at his map, "I figure we'll be clear o' this stuff by noon."

With a renewed spring in their step, they descended the stairs to join Conrad in the path he'd dug for them, then followed as, under orders from Jaz, they dug their way onward.

Gordon's prediction proved accurate, for they were well past the halfway point of the pass and the land sloped downwards to a fairly steep degree. The path wound back and forth along the side of the mountains and before long, Conrad no longer had to dig the way clear for the rest of them. Jaz ordered him to fall in place behind them and their pace picked up, the icy snow crunching beneath their boots as they descended towards the flat lands below.

They stopped for a quick meal and a rest around noon. Squinting against the bright light, Aislin could make out a bay far to the south along its shore, a sprawling city with a highway running through – their destination. Leaving the cold heights of the Golden Peaks behind them, Aislin spotted an old fortress not far from the city, a squat, grey collection of huge stone slabs watching over the surrounding lands. Not surprisingly, Jaz was a font of information about the place.

"The city was named after Amata Decklyn, one of the resistance leaders when the push against Ramidian control started," she explained as they approached the city's northern gate and the growing clamour and noise of the bustling city. Guards wearing dark, heavy cloaks covering metal armour watched their approach cautiously. "Most of the towns and cities were renamed to resistance leaders after the Liberation to remove the lingering stench of Ramidian rule."

"Did this Amata person survive the struggle?" Gordon asked pointedly.

"None of them did," Jaz answered sadly, interrupted as one of the guards at the city gate raised his hand in challenge.

"We don't normally see visitors arriving via the northern highway at this time of year," remarked one man, a burly chap with dark skin similar to Jaz. "Where have you come from?"

"Mawgan," Gordon answered gruffly, eyeing the city beyond and clearly uncomfortable with the delay.

"You made it through the pass? You were either desperate, brave or foolish to try, friend."

"A little of everythin' I guess," Gordon answered with a shrug. "We're tired and hungry, mate, mind if we head in?"

"First, you must tell me what that is," the guard ordered, pointing at Conrad.

"It's a magical construct under my command," Jaz answered. The guardsman walked slowly around Conrad, tapping his armoured body with a gloved hand to produce a hollow ringing sound.

"There's nobody in there, in case you're wondering," Jaz pointed out with a grin, which the guard ignored as he looked to one of his comrades in arms.

"You ever heard of anything like this?"

"There's that magic school on Brook Street," came the gruff reply from a bearded man who watched the group warily. "They had something similar a few years back, though it was half the size and fell over a lot."

"Yes, that's my school," Jaz interjected. "You're talking about Boris, the school's construct. He was put together by all of the students and well, he had some design flaws."

"Looks kind of dangerous to me," the first guard muttered as he returned to his post. "I can't let you bring this into Decklyn without approval from either the government or someone with authority."

"Alright, but can I leave him here? He won't be a bother, I promise."

"Fine by me, just move it off the road, yeah?" the guardsman sighed. Jaz beamed and ordered Conrad to stand near the gate and not to move. The clunking construct did so, becoming an imposing-looking statue overseeing the northern entrance to the city.

With that criteria satisfied, the group passed through the gates and walked down the cobblestone streets of Decklyn.

"You took that rather well," Aislin remarked to Jaz.

"Well, I've actually added some improvements lately that will allow me to magically summon Conrad to my side from anywhere in a three-mile range," she confided with a wink. "So, it doesn't really matter if he's outside the gate or not. Just don't tell them that."

Aislin looked with wonder at the diverse people shopping at market stalls along the main street. Having grown up where everyone was fair skinned and tall, it was quite an experience to see people of many colours, from dark to light and even hues of red or yellow enjoying the clear, cold day.

"Where do all these people come from?" Aislin asked as Jaz perused some wares at a stall.

"A lot of different places originally," she explained. "The Ramidians enslaved their enemies and criminals, but at the height of their empire they needed a lot of workers to build their ridiculous cities so they sailed overseas and brought back people from other cultures."

"I'm really starting to dislike these Ramidian blokes," Gordon muttered.

"You're in the right country for that," Jaz responded with a rueful grin. "Everyone you see here is the descendant of the original slaves, brought here around five hundred years ago."

"Now they are free," Carthack remarked, "why not go back home?"

"Nobody can remember exactly where their ancestors came from," Jaz explained sadly. "The Ramidians destroyed all of that information long ago and it's just been so long, all that remains are myths and legends. A few brave souls boarded captured ships with the intention of finding their ancient homelands, but they were never seen again."

"I'm sorry," Gordon offered soberly. "That ol' sayin' is true, it seems – ye can never go home again."

"It's okay, we've made a nice place for ourselves right here," Jaz assured them as she continued leading them through the bustling streets. "Some of us have done very well for ourselves actually. Come on, I'll take you to see my house."

With a skip in her step, Jaz led them from the markets through the more affluent area of the city. Aislin had never seen anything like it, with tall buildings of wood and stone towering above her, surrounded by small gardens arranged in artful ways. Boys and girls of around Aislin's age were walking the streets lighting lanterns on tall poles as the sun set and the light slowly faded away.

They walked for twenty minutes before the dense housing started to thin out a bit, giving way to even larger parcels of land with bigger houses built upon them. It was to one of these that Jaz entered, much to Gordon's astonishment.

"Ye didn't tell us ye were rich, girl," he remarked as they strolled along a garden-lined path. Though it was grey and dormant in the colder months, Aislin knew it would be covered in flowers in the spring.

"Well, we're not the richest but we're certainly quite well off," Jaz corrected, though with a tiny hint of smug in her voice. The house itself was two stories high, white with brown edges along each panel and smoke rising from three chimneys. It was the most lavish thing Aislin had ever seen and she was eager to see what lay inside.

Jaz approached the door with the others close behind her and knocked three times. Within moments, the door opened to reveal an older woman of dark complexion in a black dress, with her grey hair held back in a tight bun. Her dark eyes widened as she looked at the motley crew on her house's doorstep, though her astonishment was mostly reserved for Jaz.

"Miss Jaz, what are you doing here?" she gasped with one had on her chest in surprise.

"Mirembe!" Jaz exclaimed, lunging forward to give the woman a crushing hug. "I'm so glad to see you, you have no idea." Mirembe overcame her initial shock to return the embrace, even while looking cautiously at Carthack.

"Gordon MacTavish, nice to meet ya," Gordon introduced himself, stepping forward with his hand extended. Jaz refused to release her grip so Mirembe had to juggle the excited girl while shaking Gordon's hand.

"Are you friends of Jaz?"

"Aye, we've escorted her from the country of Aielund, far in the north, right to yer doorstep. Lovely place ye have 'ere, by the way."

"Oh, it's not mine, I'm just the maid," Mirembe explained, blushing slightly as she finally managed to detach Jaz. Aislin was surprised to see tears in her friend's eyes, which Jaz quickly wiped away with the back of one hand.

"Yes, these are my good friends Gordon and Carthack. Don't let his size intimidate you, he's a wonderful man. And this is Ace, I mean Aislin, my new best friend ever."

"Hello," Aislin offered meekly, blushing slightly at the effusive introduction.

"It is nice to meet you all, please, come in out of the cold," Mirembe suggested, stepping to one side to allow them through.

"Where is mother and father?" Jaz asked as they bustled into the foyer and began removing their coats and boots.

"Sir and Madam are dining in the city tonight, but the will return in an hour or two. I'm sure they'll be thrilled to see you home again, sweetie." Aislin smiled and took in the scene, marvelling at the large interior space, lavishly carpeted with plush furniture arranged around a central stone chimney, from which a crackling fire heated the room. A few lanterns fitted to the walls provided a soft, warm light. It was definitely the nicest place she'd ever seen.

Keg also seemed to approve, for he emerged from Carthack's pack, stretched and yawned, then trotted over to the fireplace, much to Mirembe's horror.

"You can't have that unclean animal in here," she gasped, then noticed Carthack was about to sit on one of the couches nearby. "Oh, uh, sir, please don't sit there," Mirembe warned. "My word, you're all filthy. No, this won't do at all. I insist you bathe before you dirty the place up. This way, ladies and gentlemen, and bring that animal with you."

"I can show them the way," Jaz assured the distressed maid. "Come on, the baths are this way, and then Mirembe can give each of you a room for the night."

There were three bathrooms in the lavish house, each with tub fed by a hand-drawn pump which provided heated water to clean themselves with. Aislin and Keg took one, while Gordon and Jaz each took another. Carthack, who was too big for the tubs anyway, was escorted outside where Mirembe pointed him at a small pond he was going to have to settle for.

Aislin filled her tub with warm water, then after disrobing, eased her tired body into and finally relaxed. Keg eyed this whole process suspiciously, but after some urging from Aislin he gingerly made his way into the shallow water at the other end. Aislin was very respectful of his space and avoided splashing him playfully, knowing how distrustful he was of bathing in general, though she did give him a bit of a scrub with a brush, which he seemed to enjoy.

Mirembe knocked and entered a little later on and left some clean clothes on the bench, taking Aislin's dirty clothing away to be washed. Not long afterward, Aislin overheard the sound of people talking out in the hall and sensed something was wrong. Quickly drying herself off, she put on the nice brown dress that had been placed on a stand and left Keg to splash around in the tub a while longer, while she crept down the hall towards the loud voices.

When she peered around the corner into the foyer, Aislin saw two tall, dark-skinned people talking to Mirembe. Both were dressed in fine clothing and spoke with quiet intensity. Aislin would have been able to eavesdrop on their whole conversation were it not for Jaz, who rushed past her out into the foyer.

"Mother, Father!" she cried, excited to see her parents again. They both turned to look at Jaz not with relief or pleasure, but something closer to dread.

"Jaz, what are you doing here?" her father asked, wiping the smile from Jaz's face while her mother went to the windows and peered cautiously through the curtains.

"I know I'm back a lot earlier than you thought, but -"

"You don't understand Jaz, you're not supposed to be here at all," her father tried to explain, which left Jaz open-mouthed and absolutely speechless.

### 10

### Weapons

After a restless night keeping watch over Madelyn at a cheap inn, Maximilian was in sour spirits as they travelled north again. He banged his fist twice against the coach's ceiling, signalling the driver to come to a stop when, through the window, he saw the industrial area of Aussict where his ex-wife Anika worked. Instead of opening the door when the coach stopped, he turned to look Madelyn straight in the eyes.

"Wait here," he instructed firmly. "This is not the time or place to test my resolve, and I will remind you that you gave me your parole to not escape."

"I am a woman of my word, sir," Madelyn answered rather primly, smoothing the folds on the blue dress she still wore from the previous day. "You already extracted this pledge from me yesterday morning, so I am curious why you needed me to repeat it."

"I'll return shortly," he grunted abruptly, stepping out of the coach before he gave too much away. Huddling into his longcoat to ward off the chill of the overcast day, Max walked towards the site office expecting to see the usual flurry of activity within, but he was surprised to see the place was barely populated.

Gone were the clouds of smoke and the constant noise of the forges from months ago, leaving perhaps only a dozen or so workers in the closest building to carry on. From Max's position, it seemed all of the other warehouses had been shuttered, posing a number of questions he wanted answered.

Entering the site office, he was greeted by a similar scene of desolation. Desks were clear of paperwork and the entire place was spotlessly clean, as if it hadn't been used in weeks. Max wandered through the room searching for signs of life when a woman spoke from the other corner.

"If you're looking for Anika, she's at home," offered Nadia, whom Maximilian recognised as one of his ex-wife's co-workers. Her iron-grey hair was tied in a bun and her cold brown eyes peered at the major through round spectacles.

"I wasn't aware firearm production had been halted," Max answered with a glance around the near-empty room. "Perhaps my staff neglected to inform me that we won the war?"

"We weren't expecting to keep up that pace, Major," Nadia explained dryly. "In four months, we went through almost all of our nation's stores of iron, sulphur and saltpetre. It's quite difficult to bake a cake when you don't have the ingredients. If it's any consolation, we met all of our quotas prior to cutting back production, but if you want more firearms or black powder, you'll have to talk to the heads of primary industry and tell them to dig faster."

"Fair enough," Max grunted after a moment's thought, then headed for the door.

"She still loves you, you know," Nadia just before he departed. "Just in case you were looking for a woman's opinion."

He wasn't.

Max strolled briskly across the compound and across the street, heading for a row of narrow houses built alongside each other. This is where the foundry's workers were housed and if his memory served, Anika was in number eleven, just off the main road. Warm, inviting firelight lit up the frosted windows of those residences he passed, indicating the rest of the workers were probably enjoying the more relaxed schedule.

Arriving at Anika's quaint abode, he hesitated briefly then knocked twice and mere moments later, was once again face to face with the women he'd once loved.

"Max? This is a surprise," she said in greeting, further opening the door to allow him inside.

"I hope I'm not intruding," he apologised as he entered, taking off his coat and hanging it on a rack near the entrance.

"Not at all, I'm happy for some company," she answered as she closed the door behind him. He turned to regard her for a moment, noting that the black bags beneath her eyes had all but vanished and she'd stopped losing weight, though there was still an odd tinge to her pale skin and her blond hair was lank and lifeless.

"You're looking better," Max lied, moving to stand before the fireplace to warm his hands. "I didn't realise your house was this small. Are you comfortable? You're getting by alright?"

"Well enough," she answered, crossing her arms suspiciously. "Most of the other workers have to share a house of this size, but as management, I have this one all to myself. But you didn't stop by to check up on me, so why don't you tell me the real reason for this impromptu visit." Maximilian gave her a shrewd look and couldn't keep a faint smile from his face.

"What, I can't stop by and say hello now and then?"

"You can, but you never do," Anika pointed out.

"True," Max conceded, giving up on the pretence. He reached around and drew Gunhilde from his belt and handed it to her, hilt first. "I need to know what sort of 'extraordinary properties' – if any – this weapon has." Anika took the firearm and looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"Are you referring to magical properties, or something else?"

"Anything. Everything," he responded gruffly. "Was your old robed friend involved in its construction?"

"Who?" she asked after a moment of confusion.

"The one who helped you create that metal monster for the assault on Aurumgaard," he reminded her.

"Oh, him," Anika remarked in recognition. "No, this weapon was an experiment on my part, Viktor Grekov had nothing to do with it."

"So aside from remarkable construction, this firearm is nothing special," Max suggested, pressing for an answer.

"Well, I think it's rather special but some people just can't appreciate genius. Why do you ask?"

"Can you have Viktor take a look at it? Give it some sort of... I don't know, power?"

"Where is this coming from?" Anika asked with sudden concern. Her bright blue eyes met his and almost as if she was reading his mind, she had the answer. "Osric. You're going to try and kill Osric."

"I should have done it already but I'm not going to dwell on past mistakes," Max growled. "I watched a man shoot Osric at close range with a firearm, with no more effect than if he'd given the man a slap in the face. I need something that can penetrate Osric's defences and I'm only going to have one shot at this."

"What happened to the man that shot him?" Anika asked quietly. Max paused, pondering if he should tell her but ultimately decided she needed to understand the stakes.

"He was disintegrated," he answered simply, watching without reaction to the expression of horror on Anika's petite face. "So, can you speak to Viktor? I can pay if required. I certainly don't imagine it'd be free."

"Viktor's not here anymore," Anika explained reluctantly, causing Max to swear under his breath.

"Where does he live?" he inquired.

"He didn't go home, he said the Grand Duke had an assignment for him elsewhere. I'm sorry Max, I don't have any way to get in touch with him on short notice. He's not the sort of man you can easily get a message to."

"I see," he muttered, grasping his hands behind his back and slowly pacing back and forth in front of the fire.

"Well, that certainly brings back some memories," Anika remarked quietly as she watched him think. "Would you like something hot to drink? It's dreadfully cold out there."

"No, thank you," he muttered absently. "Look, you're smart and one of the finest engineers in the country. Is there anything you can do to improve this weapon?"

"Back to business I see," Anika muttered quietly. "Let me explain it a little more clearly. I don't work magic, I build with the materials at hand, mundane as they are. There's only so much I can do with gold, platinum and iron Max. I..."

"Yes?" the major prompted when she fell silent.

"I just... there was something I read about in Viktor's mouldy old tomes regarding iron," she mused softly. "Something about the loss of purity during the smelting process that essentially ruins the metal. I didn't pay it much heed because it's nonsense, but what if it isn't?"

"I'm not following you," Max remarked dourly, his hope for some sort of miracle fading fast.

"I'll have to do some research," she sighed, "I can't say more at this point because I'm not sure what the text was alluding to."

"Let me put it this way," Maximilian explained delicately. "Sooner or later I'm going to shoot Osric, and I'd like for it to be permanent. I'd also like to not be disintegrated moments later. Whatever you can do to ensure my success would be greatly appre -"

A soft knock on the door interrupted whatever he'd been going to say. He exchanged a curious glance with Anika, who clearly had no idea who it could be as she moved to open it a little.

"Yes?" she asked through the thin gap.

"I'm sorry to bother you madam," came Madelyn's distinctive voice, "but I saw Major Strauss enter and it's terribly cold out in the carriage by myself." Max groaned silently as the worst-case scenario he'd contemplated came to fruition before his very eyes.

"Max? You left this lovely young woman sitting in your coach all this time?" she gasped in mock outrage. "That's just plain rude of you. Come in my dear, warm yourself up." Anika's amusement was palpable as Madelyn hurried in out of the cold, unaware that she was being closely scrutinised. While her back was turned, Anika gave Max a gratuitous wink and two thumbs up at what she obviously thought was his far-too-young-for-him girlfriend.

"Well, are you going to introduce me to your new friend?" she asked cheerily.

"I thought I told you to wait in the carriage?" Max politely but firmly reminded Madelyn.

"No, you told me not to consider escape," she corrected him. "And here I am, obediently by my captor's side."

"Ah," Anika muttered, raising an eyebrow as Madelyn began to take off her heavy overcoat, revealing the blue dress underneath. When she saw this, Anika's smile faded instantly, taking the levity of the moment with it. "Are you in the habit of giving our daughter's clothing away to all of your prisoners?"

Madelyn froze as she suddenly realised who the petite blond woman was, and why Max hadn't brought her inside.

"Is that what this is?" Madelyn protested innocently, picking at the dress with two fingers. "I don't think it's at all appropriate, sir." Max was about to point out Madelyn was lying but, apparently on the same side, both ladies glared at him, suddenly making him yearn for the cold comfort of his fortress.

"She found the dress in a box, I didn't give it to her, and I swear there is nothing unusual or improper going on here," Maximilian swore, meeting looks of disbelief from both of them. They began speaking at the same time, and while it was difficult to understand, Max could easily tell he was in a bad strategic situation with no clear path to victory, and needed to withdraw at once.

Without another word, he took Madelyn's coat from the rack and, over her objections, hastily put it over her shoulders then grabbed his own coat and made for the door.

"Don't forget about what we talked about," Max growled to Anika as he took back his sidearm with one hand and grasped Madelyn's arm with the other.

"As usual, I'll do it not because you want me to, but because it's best for my country," Anika whispered in a voice colder than the air outside. "Next time, keep your sordid trysts out of my house." Max didn't have to close the door because a moment later, once Madelyn was clear, it was slammed in his face.

"I think she's delightful," Madelyn purred as Max practically dragged her back towards the coach.

"Honestly, you have the worst timing," he growled as they piled inside and clattered off down the street. "I'm going to reconsider taking you anywhere next time. You need to stop wearing that dress, too."

"Well, make your mind up," Madelyn sighed as she theatrically started to unbutton the bodice, only to have her hands stopped when Max grasped them with his own.

"I didn't mean now," he muttered, though he found her playful smile quite enchanting. But, after the close call with Anika, he wasn't in any mood to flirt and turned to gaze out of the window in silence for the rest of the journey. Madelyn continued talking, wavering between idle small talk and subtle mocking of men in general, which Max did his best to ignore.

Less than an hour later however, as the coach swept around a wide bend in the road, he caught sight of another carriage not far behind them. Maximilian stared at it curiously, finding it odd that it had caught up to them, yet made no move to pass. It was a small cab drawn by six horses, a specialised arrangement for delivering mail throughout the realm as fast as possible and could easily have overtaken them.

"It's a little late for the Ducal Mail to be heading through these parts," he mused quietly. Max couldn't put a finger on why it bothered him, but his instincts told him something wasn't right. He pressed himself against the side of the coach's plush interior to keep an eye on it, and spied movement from the black cab. Although odd, it wouldn't have been enough to warn him of trouble were it not for the glint of metal in the cold afternoon sun.

"Get down!" Max shouted, interrupting Madelyn who stared at him in surprise at his sudden outburst. Failing to heed his warning, Maximilian threw bodily himself over her, taking them both to the floor of the coach the rear wall exploded inwards, showering them with chunks of polished wood. The distinctive report of a firearm could be heard over the clatter of hooves and when Max rose from the floor, he had Gunhilde in hand and all three hammers cocked, ready to fire.

"Faster!" he roared, banging on the roof of the coach, and within a few heartbeats the horses were charging along the road at a full gallop, sending the coach bouncing along the uneven highway as fast as it could go. A second blast came from their pursuers, putting another hole in the coach's back wall.

Keeping low, Max clambered over to the door and risked a peek through the window. This section of road was curved, allowing him to see the black cab had closed in, and two figures stood next to the driver with longarms in hand. In spite of their best efforts, the two horses pulling Max's coach had no chance of outrunning their pursuers, so he had to even up the odds a little.

"What are you doing?" Madelyn cried over the noise in the cabin as Max reached for the door handle. He wavered as the coach jostled and bumped him around the cabin, and involuntarily flinched as another shot erupted from the pursuing carriage. Sensing he had a moment to act, he lunged for the handle and grasped it tightly.

"Cover your ears," he advised as with one twist of the handle, he swung the door open and leaned out into the freezing wind. With one hand gripping the rail above for support, Max raised Gunhilde at the black cab with one finger on the trigger. Aiming one of these weapons was difficult under the best of conditions, to say nothing of hurtling along a road aiming at something that was also moving along at speed. But he wasn't going to let that stop him.

With a squeeze of the trigger, Max fire Gunhilde in combat for the first time. The report was deafening and a cloud of black smoke obscured his view for a moment, but he didn't wait to see if he'd hit. Continuing to squeeze the trigger further, the second barrel went off, closely followed by the third. The barrage caused horses to scream and as both carriages cleared the smoke, Maximilian could see he'd struck one of the six and wounded the driver, for the black cab veered off the road and into a snowbank.

He squinted against the glare, but couldn't make out who his assailants were as his coach left the black cab far behind them. They fired a pair of parting shots at him but were too far out of range to be effective. Max pulled himself back inside and closed the door, his ears still ringing from the blasts as he quickly moved to reload his weapon.

"Are you injured?" he asked of his companion, who climbed back up onto the seat and took a deep breath.

"No, I'm fine," she answered with a slight tremor in her voice. "Did you see who it was?"

"Not exactly, no," Max conceded. "It isn't difficult to deduce who might have been behind the attack, however."

"Friends of Osric?"

"Who else?" Max agreed. "It's possible they were simply highwaymen, but they had military issue weapons and were using a Ducal Mail cab to chase us, so they must have connections in the right places to obtain both. I think we've lost them but if they can get back on the road, they could catch up before we reach the fort. I shall keep watch, and ask that you do the same."

Madelyn nodded in silent reply and turned around to peer out through the hole made by the first blast, pulling her coat tight around her body to shield against the cold wind. The remainder of the journey was tense, but there was no further sign of their pursuers before the tall stone walls of Fort Nordgrenze appeared over the horizon.

Relieved to be back, Max was halfway out the door before the coach had come to a complete stop. Yuri approached from across the compound, and by the time he arrived Madelyn had alighted to the ground with Max's help.

"Welcome home, Major," the lieutenant greeted him with a salute, eyeing the lathered and blowing horses with some concern.

"Get six additional men on the walls right away," Max offered as greeting. "We may be expecting visitors, though I doubt they'd be so stupid as to attack the fort."

"At once, sir," Yuri responded, catching the attention of Sergeant Kopernic and directing him to increase the number of guards. The veteran soldier saluted, but glared at Madelyn for a long moment before he turned to act. Max noticed this but said nothing, instead inspecting the rear of the damaged coach as he took a few minutes to explain the brief chase and its outcome to Yuri. The lieutenant wasn't at all pleased.

"Osric has either curried the favour of some of our soldiers, or he's paying some very well-connected mercenaries to kill you. I can see you've had a productive trip, sir."

"Always making new friends," Max replied blandly as snow began to drift from the leaden evening skies. "Take Lady Madelyn inside while I finish up here," he instructed Yuri, who politely gestured for her to walk before him.

"Back to my cell I suppose," Madelyn sighed.

"If you would prefer a real cell, that can be arranged," Max warned, drawing a dour look from Madelyn as she headed inside with Yuri. Once they were clear of the courtyard, Max turned and headed straight for Sergeant Kopernic, who was moving towards the wall to take up guard position. Max caught his attention and didn't bandy his words.

"Do you and I have something to discuss, Sergeant?" the major bluntly asked the imposing soldier. Kopernic hesitated a moment, perhaps considering his words before deciding to speak plainly, something Max had learned to anticipate from the grizzled veteran.

"Prisoners shouldn't be getting better treatment than your own soldiers, sir," Kopernic rumbled. "It isn't good for morale when you parade that lady around like she's your new favourite thing, especially when she should be in a proper cell."

"She is a noble and a lady, Sergeant," Max pointed out. "I will not have her shackled in the dungeon with common brigands."

"That's your call sir, and I don't begrudge her the use of your chambers," the big soldier conceded, "But it looks to me like you're showing her too many favours, like one of the enemy is better than your own men."

"Has Lieutenant Vetrov provided you with the things you requested? Good food, wine and women?"

"Yes, and it's appreciated," Kopernic reluctantly responded.

"Then trust that I know what I'm doing, and follow your orders," Max brusquely finished, pausing as he waited for a salute of compliance. His impatience must have come through, for Kopernic seemed about to say more but thought the better of it, saluted, then ascended the stairs to take up his position on the wall.

With that matter settled, Maximilian pushed it from his mind and made his way inside, heading upstairs to his office only to find Yuri awaiting him.

"Can't this wait?" Max requested, feeling the strain from the long day building up behind his eyes in the form of a headache.

"A message for you arrived earlier today," Yuri answered, producing from his longcoat a sealed envelope, which Max noticed had the ducal seal upon it.

"Probably new orders," he muttered as they headed inside. His office was already warming up, indicating Yuri had the foresight to have the fireplace lit before his commanding officer arrived. Max read the short message and pondered its meaning. "I've been instructed to head into Lyden and advise the ambassador on unspecified diplomatic matters?" he muttered to Yuri's curious glance.

"Well, I suppose you should be grateful to be in the Grand Duke's favour once more," the lieutenant pointed out.

"I suppose so, but I'm hardly a diplomat... wait, this isn't from the Duke, it's signed by the Duchess," Max exclaimed under his breath. He exchanged a curious glance with Yuri, who raised a curious eyebrow.

"Her Grace doesn't typically give direct orders to military personnel, so it must be something important," Max explained cryptically. "Given her distrust of Osric and today's attack, I suspect there is more going on in Lyden than she's letting on. I am to head out first thing tomorrow morning, apparently. So much for a chance to catch my breath."

"It's all part of the glory of serving Kurhain," Yuri remarked blandly.

"A family tradition," Max responded with a thin smile. "Family..." he muttered, his thoughts drifting back to his grandfather who had fought in the liberation of this land from the Ramidians. Yuri gave him a curious look as Max's eyes widened in revelation. He pushed past the lieutenant and hurried down the hall to Madelyn's chambers, bursting through the door without knocking.

She gasped in surprise, having been caught wearing only a white chemise as she readied herself for bed, but Max didn't even notice. Instead, his focus was on the opposite wall where, hanging almost forgotten all this time was the tooth of a dragon, on display as a reminder to Max that all monsters can be slain.

"What is it sir?" Yuri pressed, failing to understand the significance.

"Anika spoke of needing 'exotic materials'," the major answered, walking closer to examine the yellowing, chipped tooth. "Fetch the crate this came in and help me package it for transport. Send it to Anika at her apartment in Aussict, and mark it confidential, for her eyes only."

"What are you going to use that for?" Madelyn asked, partially covering herself with a blanket as Yuri went through the cupboards searching for the wooden crate.

"To slay a monster," Maximilian answered with grim purpose.

### 11

Parents

"Don't stray too far," Aislin advised Keg as he pawed at the door leading to the garden. She opened it and let him rush outside for some time in the cold with nature, but at least they weren't snowed in like they'd been in the mountains. It was properly dark outside the Katan residence now, and Aislin didn't keep the door open longer than necessary.

"Why is there a giant in our garden pond?" Jaz's mother asked in mild alarm, having glimpsed Carthack bathing outside.

"Because he couldn't fit in the tub," Gordon answered with a chuckle. "Don't worry ma'am, he's a nice enough bloke who won't give ye any trouble." The dwarf was surprisingly well-groomed for a change, having washed and combed his beard and scrubbed away the dirt accrued on their travels.

"I'm less concerned about the giant than I am about that pile of firearms and armour plating in the foyer," Jaz's father remarked. His dark hair was cropped close to his scalp and a thin beard with flecks of grey covered his jaw. Green eyes carefully scrutinised his guests as they spoke.

"Oh, yes, well those weapons are mine and as a professional engineer, rest assured I've rendered them completely safe," Gordon explained.

"I certainly hope so. Perhaps some introductions are in order," Jaz's father prompted. "My name is Uriel Katan and this is my wife, Oni."

"Pleased to meetcha, I'm Gordon MacTavish, this is Aislin Ballard and the big fella out there is Carthack Valdis."

"And the cat's name is Keg," Aislin added pointedly as she took her place on a comfortable sofa and attempted to disentangle her damp auburn hair with a stiff brush. Messy at the best of times, it was going to take all night to tame it.

"What did you mean when you said that I'm not supposed to be here?" Jaz asked plaintively, while her parents exchanged a worried glance with each other. Aislin thought they both looked tired and fraught, but she couldn't understand why.

"We hadn't expected to see you again for at least a year, and that's assuming you made the trip back here to see us during the school break," Uriel explained. "What are you doing back so soon? Start from the beginning," he asked of Jaz, who swallowed loudly before launching into her tale. She briefly covered the journey north, which was uneventful and according to her, quite boring, only to learn that the magical university she had travelled so far to see didn't even exist anymore.

Dejected, she'd had little choice but to turn around and come home. The weather took a turn for the worse, but Kaden, the family servant who accompanied Jaz north, decided to press on to Bracksford despite the muddy road. Jaz visibly choked up as she related the horror of the bridge collapse, and the loss of Kaden's life in the accident.

"I'm so sorry, I should have insisted we make camp for the night," Jaz sobbed, overcome with the memories of that awful night. Oni moved to sit next to her daughter on the couch and give Jaz a comforting hug before the girl could continue her story. She explained how Aislin and Gordon had saved her life, shortly followed by the attack on the town, forcing them to flee into the wilderness to find out what was happening.

Carthack came inside at this point, with a shivering Keg darting inside just before he closed the door. Confronted with his full height and massive frame, Uriel and Oni were understandably shaken, but the big man gave them a wide smile, which Aislin thought only served to make them think he was about to eat them.

"Uh, do join us sir," Oni offered with wide eyes, gesturing to a nearby plush chair. Carthack peered down at the furniture and opted for an alternative.

"I sit on floor," he rumbled. "Don't want to destroy nice chair."

"Very considerate," Gordon pointed out, still trying to convince their hosts of Carthack's good intentions. Over the next hour, Jaz covered their confrontation with Osric, the journey south and the siege of Aurumgaard. Uriel asked Mirembe to bring out some food, and while Jaz continued to speak they ate sandwiches and a hearty, thick soup. By the time she finished, Aislin was nodding off on the couch with keg sprawled across her legs.

"On behalf of my wife and I, thank you all so much for saving my daughter's life and bringing her home," Uriel said, his voice thick with emotion.

"Then why were you so upset to see me?" Jaz asked.

"We weren't upset," Oni assured her with a wan smile. "Just surprised, is all."

"We're really happy to have you back with us again, Jaz. But we're all tired, so let's pick this up in the morning," Uriel suggested. "Consider yourselves our guests for as long as you need." Aislin dozed off before the end of that sentence, and the last thing she recalled was Carthack carrying her to bed and being wrapped in blankets and warm fur as she drifted off.

* * *

The next day was cold and gloomy, with grey skies and strong winds making Aislin want to go back to sleep. The prospect of staying buried under warm blankets in the luxurious bed was enticing to say the least, and Keg seemed to have made his mind up already but the sound of raised voices caught her attention. Sensing something awry, Aislin got up and dressed then shuffled sleepily out to the lounge room to find Jaz's parents having a rather spirited discussion.

She wasn't able to make out a lot of what they were talking about until she stopped in the hallway just before the door, when it all became very clear.

"I don't like the people you're associating with," Oni snapped at Uriel who was dressed in an expensive tunic and shoes.

"Well since you're not the one associating with them, you don't have anything to worry about," he answered crisply. "It's necessary for security purposes, I'm told." Oni was about to snap an angry retort when she noticed Aislin standing in the hallway. "Oh, good morning," Jaz's mother stammered, though the abrupt change in tone made her voice sound false. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you Missus Katan," Aislin responded politely, not wanting to get into the cause of their argument so soon after waking. "I'll be back in a few minutes, so go ahead and finish what you were talking about."

"Oh, no we're fine, thank you," Uriel blurted, giving his wife a sidelong glance that indicated their 'chat' was far from over. Aislin gave them a shrewd look, then went to use the bathroom before the others got up.

When she returned to the living area, Mirembe was cooking breakfast in the kitchen adjacent to the dining room, and Oni was sitting by herself gazing at an interesting painting hanging on the wall. Aislin peered up at it, noting its simple style with broad strokes and earthy tones. She hadn't encountered a lot of art in her time, but she quite liked what she saw.

"My grandmother painted this," Oni explained without turning her head. "It's one of the ancient traditions my people kept alive during generations of slavery."

"It's very nice," Aislin remarked, not knowing exactly what it was depicting.

"The more civilised we become, the more we forget our origins," Oni lamented quietly. "In another couple of generations, nobody will be painting like this ever again and our connection to the past will be lost forever." Aislin didn't quite know how to respond to that, so she was grateful when Mirembe emerged from the kitchens carrying a platter of food. The aroma seemed to draw out everyone else from their bedrooms and before long, Aislin and her companions were gathered around the table to eat.

"I find it odd that you hadn't heard about all of my adventures," Jaz remarked to her father as they all ate lightly seasoned scrambled eggs on toast. "I sent you eight separate messages."

"How could you send messages if the fortress was under siege for months?" Uriel pointed out, as confused as Jaz.

"They were magical in nature," she explained. "You should have a bunch of little paper darts around here somewhere, and its odd that there isn't."

"Does that mean maybe they didn't work?" Aislin asked, suddenly concerned. "What about the ones I sent to my father? Would he even have gotten them?"

"I... don't know," Jaz answered with a plaintive shrug. "Without examining one of the messages I can't tell what the problem was." This left Aislin gnawing on her lower lip in consternation, wondering if her father knew what had happened to her all this time.

While they ate, Uriel and Oni spoke to each other quietly on the other side of the room. Aislin watched them suspiciously and exchanged a glance with Gordon, who was likewise a little distrusting of the two.

"Something ain't right with them," he confided in a whisper when Aislin leaned towards him.

"They were arguing when I got up," Aislin answered in similar tones.

"About what?

"I'm not sure exactly, something about being threatened."

"Well, let's not jump to conclusions, but stay cautious, okay?" Gordon suggested after a moment's thought. Jaz, sitting on the other side of the table, seemed oblivious to anything unusual as she scrawled some notes on a piece of paper while she ate.

"I like this," Carthack announced, point at the remaining crumbs on his plate. "More?"

"As much as you want," Mirembe answered with a faint smile at the towering man.

"You should make this when we travel," he suggested to Gordon.

"Only if ye can figure out how to lay eggs," he grumbled in reply as Uriel and Oni joined them at the table. "Everything okay?" the dwarf asked them in a pleasant voice.

"Just making some arrangements," Uriel responded casually. It wasn't good enough for Gordon though, who put down his utensils and clasped his hands before him.

"Yer both nice enough folk, and I'm grateful fer yer hospitality," he began, "but I've no patience for games. I can tell there's a problem, and I want to know how it affects us."

"You're very forthright," Uriel observed. "I appreciate that. Before I answer, please tell me what you are doing in Lyden. You don't need all of those weapons or a giant just to escort my daughter home."

"We looking for someone, a... friend," Carthack answered, hesitating a little on the last word before a plaintive look from Aislin reminded him what she thought of Madelyn.

"Aye, and we were hopin' to get some help from ye on that matter," Gordon added. "Yer daughter hinted ye were important people around here."

"I work with our government," Uriel answered, "and Oni is an accomplished herbalist of some renown in the city. We can certainly be of assistance in locating a missing friend, but you're not sure you can trust us, am I right? Permit me to explain."

"I'm all ears," Gordon answered dryly.

"Tell me Mister MacTavish, what do you know of our country?"

"Ye can safely assume I know next to nothin', Mister Katan."

"First, you need to understand that Lyden, despite all appearances to the contrary, is actually two separate states who work together on major issues of mutual importance," Uriel began. "You won't see that on any map, though. We like to present a united front to keep our neighbouring countries on their toes."

"We're hardly as fractured as you make it out to be," Oni protested. "We are one people," she assured Gordon, who stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"Go on," he prompted.

"Anyway, those living in the west of the country are controlled by a faction known as the Reformationists, while the real power resides to the east in the capital under the sway of the Independents. The Reformationists are gaining influence here, trying to push for greater co-operation with Kurhain and even Ramidia, saying it's in everyone's best interests to do so, which is nonsense. Aside from losing three-quarters of their empire, Ramidia has hardly changed in a thousand years and I'll be damned if I'm going to let some upstart daydreamers takes us back into the dark ages of living under the thumb of the old Holy Ramidian Empire."

"That's not what they're proposing at all," Oni shouted, indicating they had discussed this before. "They're talking about expanding trade and offering a mutual defence of our borders. It's hardly submission to a foreign power."

"How else am I to take it?" Uriel asked with his arms wide. "Do you think the Ramidians want to live alongside the descendants of their former slaves? Or share power with us? What of the Kurhanir, they're not exactly the type to get along well with others, what possible reason could we have for ceding power to them?"

"Speakin' o' them," Gordon interjected delicately. "Did yer government allow Kurhanir soldiers to march through yer territory on their way north?"

"I heard something about that," Uriel mused. "We in the east didn't and would never give them permission, but I'd wager our countrymen in the west bent over backwards to accommodate their new friends," Uriel muttered. Oni sniped something back under her breath and the discussion heated up even more, with both of them talking at the same time which was rather uncomfortable for everyone present.

Aislin glanced at Jaz and was alarmed to see she was cringing in her seat, her large dark eyes flitting back and forth between her parents in fear. Carthack noticed this too, and didn't seem to like it.

"Quiet," he barked, his resonant voice silencing the argument instantly. "Don't care about this. Only here to find friend. You help? This is good. You argue? We go."

"My apologies," Uriel offered, appearing a little afraid of the big escardi. "My wife and I have disagreements over politics, as you can no doubt see, and I'm sorry to have inflicted this upon you. The point I was trying to make is, that as a member of the government, I have made enemies amongst their ranks, some of whom are becoming quite vocal."

"Enemies, eh?" Gordon mused while Oni simmered, her arms crossed. "Are we talkin' political enemies, or the pitchfork and torches kind?"

"A little of both," Uriel admitted, glancing with consternation at Jaz. "But the government has hired extra security just to make sure nothing unfortunate happens. I can't stay much longer as I have to meet with some dignitaries soon, but as to your friend, what can I do to help?"

"She was captured during the Battle of Aurumgaard," Gordon explained, "and we're fairly certain she's being held in Ostermacht, capital of Kurhain." Uriel's eyes widened and he stared at Gordon with a look of disbelief.

"She's inside Kurhain?" he repeated in astonishment.

"Yer expression isn't fillin' me with confidence," Gordon responded dryly. "Don't ye have some contacts that might confirm her exact location or somethin' similar?"

"I believe the word you're looking for is 'spies'," Uriel pointed out. "If we do have such people, I'm not important enough to know about them. We have a very cold relationship with Kurhain, not exactly open hostilities but we're happy to leave each other alone for the most part. Finding a prisoner and organising an exchange is going to be a long and involved process. I'll make some inquiries but there's only so much I can do."

"We can't just leave her there for months and months," Aislin blurted. "Who knows what they're doing to her? There has to be a faster way."

"Sure, magic," Uriel grumbled with a sidelong glance at Oni. "But that's not my area of expertise, so I'm going to leave you to talk about other options. I'll be home sometime tonight." He gave Oni a perfunctory kiss on the forehead, then grabbed his coat from a hook and headed out the front door.

"So, magic," Jaz said with a twinkle in her eyes. "It's time we went and paid a visit to grandpa. Can we go and see him now? We really do need to sort this out as fast as possible."

"Of course, I'm sure he'd be relieved to see you alive and well," Oni agreed. "And then he will yell at you for being reckless and foolish, and then somehow find a way to blame me for it all."

"He's not that bad," Jaz tried to reassure her.

"Because you're his favourite," Oni pointed out with a sigh. "According to father, I can't do anything right, and he's not overly fond of my husband on the best of days."

"Sounds like a hard man to get along with," Gordon mused. "So, this is your resident magic expert?"

"Didn't I mention he was the one who taught me just about everything I know about magic?" Jaz asked in surprise.

"No," Carthack grunted.

"I'm sure I told you at some point. He might have something that can help speed this along, though he always kept his more potent magicks locked away from the students. Maybe he can help me make some more message paper so we can follow it to Madelyn, or he could perhaps turn us invisible so we can sneak into Kurhain."

"I'll leave you all to speak with him but remember," Oni advised, "he may be a bit old and cranky, but he's quite shrewd and doesn't miss anything – including all of your little mistakes that he'll be sure to tell you about. I've uh, said too much," she muttered, leaving the table to gather some jars into a box. "I have to go and open up the shop, so keep warm and I hope father can give you the help you're looking for."

"Right, let's get moving," Jaz suggested, standing up and smoothing the folds on her long blue dress. "Ace, go get properly dressed and wake up Keg. I'd wager the lazy bugger could use some exercise." Aislin hurried to her room do just that, then met with the others at the front door - a sleepy cat in tow.

Jaz led them east, through the city's bustling markets where a wide assortment of goods was on display. Jaz wanted to slow down a little and shop for some new clothes, but Aislin prodded her onward, reminding her of what was at stake.

It took a full hour of walking to reach the school, which was a quaint little white house with an ugly, squat tower rising not far behind it. Both were behind a sturdy wooden fence, though the gate was open and students were visible through the house's windows.

"Are they all learning magic?" Aislin asked in wonder.

"It's just a regular school," Jaz explained, shattering Aislin's dreams in an instant. "I started out in there but was quickly plucked from obscurity to work with grandpa in the tower. Come on, let me show you." Her excitement was palpable as she led them to the squat grey tower around the corner, though Aislin did stop for a moment to stand on her tiptoes and peer into the window.

She saw nearly a dozen boys and girls reading from books, with a prim and proper grey-haired lady watching over them from the head of the class. Aislin felt pangs of regret at the thought of missing out on her own schooling, and silently wished she could join them inside. Keg stretched his paws upward and looked inside as well, just as a student happened to notice they had an audience.

All of the children turned to see the strange girl with the large cat looking through the window and smiled, pointing at Keg and laughing. Their mood changed instantly when Carthack leaned in to see what was going on and his shadow fell over the students, who collectively screamed at the appearance of a giant outside their window. He simply waved and smiled, which did nothing to assure them of his peaceful intentions, so Aislin grabbed him by his coat and dragged him away before there was an incident.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" she asked, hoping there weren't going to be any repercussions.

"Must admit, was very funny," he confided, drawing a grin of understanding from Aislin as she realised he really was having a good time. They caught up to Gordon and Jaz just outside the tower, which was clearly very old and made for a time when people were a little shorter.

"I wait outside," Carthack suggested when it was clear he'd have to crouch very low to make it through.

"That's probably a good idea," Gordon chuckled as he reached out to knock on the door. Just before he touched it, the door silently swung inwards, leaving him standing frozen with his knuckle ready to go.

"Um, was it supposed to do that?" he asked Jaz, who sported a wide grin.

"I was going to tell you, but I wanted to see the look on your face," she whispered.

"Now, I don't want ye havin' fun at our expense," Gordon chastised her. "I – bloomin' 'eck," he stammered as a hulking metal man loomed in the doorway. It was obviously a magical construct not unlike Conrad, but was far less refined, shorter, and appeared to be made of mismatched parts. Although it made no move to attack, it was blocking the doorway quite effectively.

"Boris, stand aside," Jaz instructed, and the lumbering golem complied immediately, allowing them to enter. Gordon gave it a suspicious look as he slowly passed it by, while Jaz examined the construct with an expert eye.

"They've replaced his arms again," she mused. "It's probably just a side project they were assigned, but these clunky things were never quite right to begin with. Boris, lift your arms," she commanded, and the construct complied instantly. "Ah, now he has a full range of movement, splendid."

"So glad you approve," came a withered voice from further inside. "Shai and Jiao-long spent all week on that, though I'm sure you could have done it yourself in half the time." Aislin turned and saw an old man with dark, weathered skin, short grey hair and piercing dark eyes scrutinising them from amidst a room filled with cluttered desks. He wore a simple brown robe, adorned with an assortment of belts strapped around his thin frame, each laden with small tools and odd-looking gizmos.

"Grandpa!" Jaz exclaimed, running up to him and giving him a crushing hug, which he quickly pushed back against.

"Show some decorum, young lady," he croaked, straightening his belts after prying her away. "I can't be seen showing you favouritism, it's bad enough I'm teaching you as it is." Jaz's smile vanished, but his stern demeanour softened as he added, "But it's good to see you alive and well, my dear." Jaz beamed and introduced the others, pointing at Carthack who's frame blocked the doorway.

"This is Grandpa Amadi," Jaz said to them as way of introduction. "He taught me everything I know."

"When you have a care to listen," Amadi grumbled, raising a finger to point at Aislin. "You there, don't touch anything. This is a workshop involving powerful magicks and you could hurt yourself, or turn your dwarven friend into a frog or some such. And what's that cat doing in here?"

"He's my friend," Aislin protested.

"Don't let it jump up on the tables, I can't abide that," Amadi muttered. Keg merely sat and lashed his tail back and forth, eyeing the old man warily. He was about to say something when a thought dawned on him. "What are you doing back here so early? You were supposed to be studying abroad for the rest of the year."

"It's a long story, but essentially the university in Fairloch closed down years ago," Jaz answered. Amadi reached out and pulled a necklace from around Jaz's neck, revealing the polished stone she'd worn ever since Aislin had met her.

"You've still got it then? Good, I was worried for a moment there," he muttered.

"Oh yes, I treasure this," Jaz assured him. "I think of mother and father whenever I look at it."

"Well, I gave it to them to give to you, so spare a thought for your old grandpa now and then."

"You did? Is it magic?" Jaz asked, suddenly looking at the stone in a new light.

"No, but it's an old family heirloom that means a lot to me," Amadi said gruffly.

"Oh, well, that's important too," Jaz conceded. "Look, I'll tell you all about my adventures later, but right now we need your help tracking down a friend."

"Do I look like a woodsman to you?" Amadi snapped, his mood clearly as frail as his body. He shuffled over to a desk and started sifting through the clutter. Despite the warning, Aislin was deeply curious about all the little devices lying about and couldn't help but pick up a metal ball with a glowing gem inside it.

"What does this thing do?" she asked, only to have Amadi hurry over and take it from her hand as the gem started to glow an intense violet colour.

"I just told you not to touch anything," he squawked, but his tone softened almost immediately. "I can see you've an inquisitive mind, child, but it takes training to safely handle these relics. Jaz studied for a full year before I let her lose in the workshop."

"Grandpa, don't get distracted," Jaz chided him. "Can you help us find someone? I'm sure you'd have a crystal ball or something similar here, right?"

"Perhaps, though I've no time for trivialities at the moment, there's all sorts of things going on."

"Would ye care to elaborate?" Gordon asked suspiciously.

"Not that it's any concern of yours, Mister MacTavish," Amadi answered, "but there's a group of people wanting access to some of my inventions and they're woefully unqualified to handle any of this. It's all well and good to be curious, but without discipline and training, accidents happen, isn't that right Jaz?"

"Yes grandpa," she answered dourly. "But our friend is being held prisoner and we need to find where she's held."

"Oh? Why didn't you say so," Amadi grunted, shuffled over to a table, just as Keg decided it was time to show him who was boss by jumping onto it. "Arg! What did I just tell you?" Amadi blurted, reaching out to grab Keg before he could touch anything valuable. As he came closer though, something caught his eye. Instead of pushing him off, Amadi lifted the little purple gem hanging from Keg's collar and took a closer look.

"What the... this is my gem of intellect," he exclaimed. "I've been searching for this for months! Jaz, you stole this from me? How could you? And to put it on a common house cat? This is an abomination!" Jaz squirmed awkwardly, trying to say something to absolve herself of guilt. Her expression change to one of alarm as Amadi unfastened the clasp holding it in place and removed it from the startled cat.

"No, wait!" Jaz cried, but it was too late. Keg stood perfectly still, his expression one of obvious confusion as his mind was reduced to that of an ordinary cat. He mewed in confusion and bolted out the door, scattering valuable equipment to the corners of the room.

"That does it!" Amadi bellowed. "You've taken valuable equipment without my permission and now you've probably broken any number of relics. Get out, this instant!"

"But our friend," Jaz plaintively asked, yet the old man wasn't listening anymore.

"Boris, get these people out of here!" he ordered, and the construct lurched to life its arms out wide as it herded Amadi's surprised guests outside, with the door slamming shut behind them.

### 12

###  Ambassador

"I still think I should accompany you," Yuri advised as Max finished his final preparations for the journey east. "Clearly there is something afoot in Lyden that presents a danger to Kurhain, and therefore a danger to you, Major. You will need an extra pair of eyes to watch your back."

"I'm more concerned about what happens here while I'm gone," Max responded, checking Gunhilde was loaded and ready before sheathing it on his belt. "Osric may be emboldened by my absence and try to take the prisoner for himself. Your task is to keep her safe, at any cost, do you understand?"

"Of course, sir. May I speak freely?"

"When do you not, Yuri?" Max pointed out dryly.

"It is clear to me now that Lady Madelyn has provided you with as much information as she can. Is there value in continuing to hold her here? We are not formally at war with Aielund and as a citizen of that kingdom, it might be prudent to release her."

"Circumstances have changed, Lieutenant," Maximilian explained as he headed for the door, gesturing for the porter to take his last bag. "She's no longer a prisoner of war, and instead being held in, shall we say, 'protective custody'. I fear what would happen to Lady Madelyn if Osric were to get his hands on her, for he is motivated not by loyalty to our nation, but his own thirst for vengeance. Perhaps once we've 'managed' the situation appropriately, we can consider releasing her."

"Understood," Yuri answered, satisfied with the response.

"Sergeant Kopernic will be a solid second-in-command, but don't let him push you around. He's used to being in charge of his own men and has a chip on his shoulder regarding officers."

"I hadn't noticed," Yuri dryly commented as they descended to the lower floor and headed for the courtyard where a coach and fresh horses were waiting. The porter loaded the final bag onto the luggage rack and Max climbed aboard under cold, leaden skies.

"Barring any unforeseen circumstances, I shall return in a week's time," he said to Yuri as the lieutenant reached for the door.

"If I were you, I'd expect the unforeseen, sir," Yuri advised with a salute, then closed the coach's door. Max returned the salute through the window and banged on the roof to signal the driver to get under way. Movement in the upper floor of the keep caught the major's eyes, and as the carriage started to roll away, Max exchanged a long look with Madelyn, who waved farewell from her comfortable 'cell' in the fort. He hated leaving her like this, especially after the attack on the highway but orders were orders, and the Grand Duchess must have had good reason to send him into Lyden.

Though it wasn't drawn on any map, a new highway had been cut through the northern part of the forest surrounding Fort Nordgrenze, leading straight to the Kurhain-Lyden border. It was created specifically for the army Kurhain had sent to north for the assault on Aurumgaard, as part of the arrangement they had made with the Lydenese. The coach driver had been instructed to make best speed for Valleyfield, a quaint and diverse farming community less than a day's journey, provided he didn't spare the whip.

The coach rattled over the highway and reached the crossing of the Stockford River within the first hour, a solid wooden bridge guarded by soldiers from both countries who watched each other carefully day and night. Max presented his papers to the Lydeni captain, a tall, imposing figure with dark skin and a short beard.

Salutes were exchanged but little fuss was made over Maximilian's presence, since the deal between the two nations was still in effect and military personnel could travel across this border with a minimum of bureaucratic interference.

Max's coach continued north, bypassing the town of Stockford and turning east towards their destination. The journey was monotonous and dull, and he missed the company and intelligent conversation Madelyn had provided on their trip to Ostermacht. The major's thoughts dwelled on her for a while, until he shook himself out of his reverie and made more practical use of the time making plans. Unfortunately, all of the ideas he thought up hinged on Anika's results with the dragon's tooth he'd sent her, so there was little else to think of before his mind drifted back to Madelyn's blue eyes and rapier wit.

As the sun descended, Max watched as vast fields of crops stretched to the horizon and by the time light was vanishing from the sky, the coach arrived at Valleyfield where they found a cheap, unassuming inn to stay in overnight. Despite their remote location, Max kept Gunhilde loaded and within arm's reach throughout the night, as he figured it was better to be safe than dead.

The next day dawned clear and bright as Max set out for the next leg of the journey, after first negotiating the busy streets of Valleyfield. Another long, dull day of travel ensued, interspersed with the occasional glance behind them to make sure they weren't being followed. It was with genuine relief that just as the sun touched the horizon, Max's coach finally arrived at the outskirts of the city of Decklyn.

Though he was eager to leave the confines of the coach, Max had to remain patient while they traversed the cobblestone streets on the way to their final destination, Castle Decklyn, which stood in darkness a few kilometres on the other side of the sprawling city. A winding road led through the foothills with the tips of the mountains behind the ancient fortress still catching the last rays of light from the setting sun.

By the time Max disembarked in the castle's courtyard lit by dozens of torches lining the tall stone walls, the horses were lathered with sweat and steaming in the icy conditions. Dozens of archers walked the parapets, with most of them keeping an eye on the new arrival as an officer walked towards the coach to greet him. He was shorter and stockier than Max, and his eyes were narrow and angular, a common trait amongst certain racial groups in Lyden.

"Major Strauss, I presume?" he asked in accented Korat, indicating he was a man who had taken the time to learn Max's language.

"You've been expecting me," he remarked, as his counterpart gestured for a porter to unload the major's baggage.

"Yes, though not until tomorrow. You made excellent time, much to the regret of your horses. I am Captain Zhao Jian, liaison to Ambassador Hoffmann during his time in our country." Zhao bowed his head slightly as he introduced himself, giving the impression of a stiffly formal officer who wasn't altogether pleased with Max's appearance.

He offered his hand, which the captain shook firmly then gestured for Max to follow him into the keep. The silence between them was uncomfortable, and since they would likely be working together for the next few days, Max decided to clear the air.

"If I was to guess, I'd say you aren't pleased to have foreign soldiers in your country, correct?" he bluntly asked, drawing a raised eyebrow from the taciturn officer.

"Is it that obvious?" Zhao responded.

"I can't say I blame you of course. I would have similar issues if our positions were reversed."

"You seem to be a plain-spoken man, so I will speak in kind – Lyden should not be consorting with a war-like state such as Kurhain. It risks dragging us into other conflicts that have nothing to do with our interests." They turned down a hallway with their booted footsteps echoing along the stone. Zhao snapped his fingers and pointed the porter towards a door, where he was to deposit Max's luggage.

"Lyden is a country made from diverse cultures and races," Max remarked as the porter, a thin, olive-skinned man, hauled the bags into the guest room. "You work together in common cause, regardless of where you came from or how you appear to one another. This is something Lyden and Kurhain share, for my country is also made of survivors from disparate groups who joined forces when our home was destroyed. We are not so different." Zhao looked at Max shrewdly, as if seeing him for the first time.

"That is a remarkable insight, Major Strauss," he remarked. "Frankly, you are not what I was expecting."

"Our reputation precedes us, so it's quite understandable," Max conceded. "Before I turn in for the night, I wish to speak with the ambassador, if that's possible."

"I have, in fact, been instructed to invite you to dine with the ambassador and his wife," Zhao confirmed. "Freshen yourself up first, and then Manni will show you the way." Max nodded his assent then stepped into his modest room to do just that.

He bathed and changed into a fresh uniform, and when ready he stepped outside to see Manni waiting patiently for him. He apparently didn't speak Korat, so he simply gestured for Max to follow him along the hall to the ambassadorial suite.

The servant swung open a pair of large doors and stepped to one side, allowing Max to enter a large, well-appointed chamber that did its best to hide the fact it was inside a cold, stone fortress. Tapestries and curtains hung along the walls, and a roaring fireplace kept away the chill evening air. Ambassador Hoffmann, wearing a fine evening jacket, was seated at a small table, with an elegantly dressed woman sitting across from him. He was tall and thin, with unremarkable features aside from the mutton chops he had grown in a fashion trend that didn't show any sign of fading away.

On the floor next to the table sprawled a huge tiger, which growled faintly as Max entered the room, and Manni closed the doors behind him.

"Don't mind Jaeger, he thinks you're bringing his next meal," Hoffmann said as he stood from the table. "Or perhaps, that you are his next meal. Rest assured this is not the case, sir."

"Hungry tigers don't bother me," Max answered with a shrug. "My uncle had one when I was growing up, and she was a pleasant enough animal."

"It's good to have one of our kith with us tonight," Hoffmann announced with a smile at his wife. "We have never met, though I have heard of your exploits. I am Ekkhardt Hoffmann and this is my wife, Brigitte. Come and sit, Major Strauss, you must be famished."

Max was indeed hungry after his long journey and didn't hesitate to join his countrymen at the table. A fine dinner of roast pork and potatoes was served with a rich gravy, accompanied by idle conversation about how things were back in Kurhain, and soldiering life in general. Now and then Hoffmann would toss some slabs of pork to the tiger, who eagerly snapped them up with his huge jaw.

"Jaeger will eat our scraps but he does prefer to hunt," Hoffmann remarked. "Our Lydeni hosts are not averse to providing some live game for him to chase, which occasionally includes the odd criminal. It is only proper for a tiger to hunt, lest its claws grow dull and useless. The same applies to soldiers, does it not? You train to be ready to fight at a moment's notice."

"Of course," Max agreed, unsure what he was alluding to and more than willing to move the conversation along. "Ambassador, it is my understanding that our agreement with the Lydeni government only applies to the western half of their country. What are you doing so close to the capital, and why was I ordered here?"

"Fair questions," Hoffmann answered, placing his cutlery on the empty plate before him and folding his fingers together. "It is no secret that Kurhain has many enemies, Major. Despite the passing of decades, the rest of this vast island still considers us invaders and as such, not to be trusted. This, in spite of crippling the old Ramidian Empire which had enslaved so many over the long centuries of their reign. Why, the people of Feydwiir should be thanking us."

"Lyden is the only one of our neighbours we are not at war with, and it should be obvious to anyone that we should try and build upon that, to foster good relations and even attempt to form an alliance with them. Those in the west, referred to locally as the Reformationists, see things our way but they are the minority in this country. I hope to open a dialogue with the President of the Free States at some point, but until then we are keeping a low profile."

"I'm certain the tiger helps with that enormously," Maximilian pointed out dryly.

"A small personal conceit," Hoffmann admitted. "He doesn't go far, and the surrounding lands are clear of prying eyes. We've actually made some progress with the local military of late, which is partly why you are here."

"I am curious as to the reason for this assignment," Max confessed.

"I've arranged a meeting with local commanders to cover a number of important topics tomorrow morning," Hoffmann responded. "I'll be explaining everything then. Well, this has been a pleasant evening, Major," he added, standing from the table along with his wife, indicating the dinner was over. Max did likewise, said his goodnights and headed back to his quarters to rest, but took a detour along the way to scout the castle's layout and complement. Try as he might, he could spot nothing unusual that would prompt the Grand Duchess to send him here, so he eventually settled in for the night and awaited tomorrow's developments.

* * *

"Firstly, I must ask if there has been any word regarding Kurhanir soldiers returning from the Aurumgaard campaign," Maximilian asked of the assembled officers the next morning, in what could only be described as the castle's war room. Maps and charts were spread alongside stacks of requisition notices and logistical information, but none of it indicated to the major what had happened to his men. In spite of the presence of several other officers, Captain Zhao appeared to be the man in charge of much of this information, and it was he that answered.

"There have been a few Kurhanir deserters apprehended throughout the country, numbering twenty-six in total over the past two weeks. However, we found a dozen travelling from the north into Decklyn recently – hungry, tired and more than happy to surrender to our guards, though what happened to them remains a mystery as they will not speak of it. Whatever it was seems to have traumatised them severely, and I'm not certain it was the siege of Aurumgaard ending so badly. Given the size of your initial assault, a group numbering in their hundreds, this is a very small figure indeed. I'm sorry we haven't found more."

"Morale was low after the defeat, undoubtedly leading to all of these desertions but I expected more from Kurhanir soldiers," Max grumbled. "We may have lost the battle but we will win the war, someday. I will make arrangements for any you have in custody to be transferred back to Kurhain for retraining and debriefing. I would very much like to find out what happened to this group in particular. They came in from Mawgan, you say?"

"Correct, Major," Zhao answered.

"That speck of a village could hardly have offered them any resistance, if they'd chosen to attack it. Nevertheless, I will get to the bottom of this."

"You will have your work cut out for you, Major," Ambassador Hoffmann ruefully suggested. "I had the misfortune to meet with their sergeant and he was leading a most unruly bunch."

"It will be taken care of," Max assured him.

"Now to the matter at hand," Zhao continued. "Our men have been keeping close watch on the northern border of late and in addition to spotting deserters, there have been numerous sightings of something that could potentially be far more dangerous. A dragon."

"I thought that would pique your interest," Hoffmann remarked as Max, suddenly alert, sat up at the table. "I think you now understand why you were summoned here, Major. You are one of the foremost military experts on these monsters in our country."

"Where have your man reported seeing it?" Max asked, ignoring the ambassador. Zhao nodded to one of his lieutenants, who spread a map of Lyden out before them beneath an elaborate chandelier.

"Along the northern border, in the mountains," Zhao explained. "Just one or two sightings a week over the last few months leading up to winter. It has posed no significant threat so far, but my guess is it has been probing our defence for weaknesses."

"How big is it and what colour are its scales?" Max inquired after a cursory examination of the reports.

"At the distance it was sighted, our scouts estimate around a hundred feet in length and as red as the desert sands," Zhao answered clinically. Max had to do the math to convert it into metres before he fully understood the implications.

"That's the one," Max growled to himself, which was overheard by Zhao.

"You are familiar with this creature?"

"It is the dragon that attacked our earlier northern expedition, leaving few survivors," Max explained. "This monster patrols the wastes to the north, claiming the entire region as its own hunting ground. The report states it was seen close to Aurumgaard too. Was there any information about a smaller dragon with golden scales?"

"None, just the big one," Zhao responded, disappointing Max slightly.

"I had heard that this smaller creature was responsible for turning the battle against us at Aurumgaard, so I consider it a mortal foe. Should it show up, I want it destroyed."

"I understand, and rest assured any attack by a creature or army will be eliminated," Zhao assured him. "Of further concern is the large red dragon has been sighted closer to Decklyn over the past week, staying in the mountains just to the north, though I am curious about its interest in this region. This monster isn't known to hang around civilised areas for long."

Max took some small red pins from the lieutenant and, following the reports he'd read, stuck them in the map of Lyden at the relevant locations. The cluster just to the north of their present location was disturbing to say the least.

"Let me assure you, gentlemen," Zhao advised, "this fortress is more than capable of repelling the dragon should it be foolish enough to attack."

"Conventional weapons are useless against a dragon of that size," Max warned. "You would need something a little less 'mundane', and nothing I've seen here fits that standard." He paused as another thought occurred to him. "This cluster of sightings close-by... it is known that dragons smell magical power in the same way we would smell the aroma of pollen in the air. Given this creature does not typically leave its territory, I wonder if it has smelled something in this area, something powerful."

Max noticed Zhao exchange a glance with Hoffmann, and immediately knew they weren't disclosing everything.

"If there's something you gentlemen would like to share, now's the time," he suggested politely, though his true feelings were far less civilised.

"I wasn't sure if we should tell you about this," Hoffmann confessed, "but given the situation, it would be best to give you all the information we can. I think the rest of you aren't needed any longer." Zhao nodded and barked out some orders in the local language, receiving salutes from his subordinates who then walked out and closed the great doors behind them.

"This had better be good," Max advised impatiently.

"Come with me, Major," the ambassador answered, gesturing to Zhao who pulled a lever on the wall, causing a large slab of bricks to swing inward, revealing a hidden stairwell spiralling into the darkness. The captain took a torch from a nearby sconce and all three men descended for perhaps half a minute before it levelled out into a narrow hall, which ended at a heavy iron doorway.

Zhao pulled it open and revealed a large space that must have been a dungeon at some point, for there were barred cells visible at the end of a clear central area. It seemed to have been converted into a workshop with benches, tools and equipment lining the walls, and plenty of light provided by a glowing orb twice the size of a human head hovering near the ceiling.

"What is this?" Max asked suspiciously, understanding that there was magic at work in the secret chamber. Hoffmann simply nodded towards the centre, where a large workbench was set up and two figures were focused on something before them. Max slowly walked forward, in equal parts wary and curious to know what was taking place here.

One of the figures was holding a small metal cube in one hand that Maximilian instantly recognised as the Lexicon, a device he and Yuri had recently discovered in Osric's possession. Above it was projected the pages of a glowing book, from which both men were reading. The other figure blocking Max's view was wearing a brown hooded robe, and the two were involved in a deep conversation.

As the major drew closer, his footsteps were noticed by the robed man who turned to regard Max with pale blue eyes. A long white beard was visible and his features were waxy and ancient.

"Viktor?" Max breathed, wondering what the secretive Kurhanir artificer was doing in a Lydeni castle.

"Is that the good Major, come to join us at last?" came Osric's voice as the fallen king peered around Viktor's black visage.

"Osric," Max growled in reply, casting an accusing glance at Hoffmann. "What is he doing here?"

"You've no doubt heard that His Grace was allowing King Osric to continue on as an advisor, yes?" Hoffmann suggested. "It is in this capacity he continues to serve our nation, Major. His unique insights into sorcery are going to allow us to unlock the secrets of an ancient power."

On the workbench before Viktor was a narrow piece of dark, polished wood, perhaps fifty centimetres in length, held at each end in a simple bracket to prevent it from moving. It seemed to be the focus of their study, and although it appeared to be nothing special, Max knew appearances could be deceiving.

Max's hand, which had strayed close to Gunhilde's trigger when he spotted Osric, moved away, for while the major had been concerned that Osric might attack him on the spot, the King's focus appeared to be fully on the subject at hand. His eyes rarely left the object, except to help Viktor translate more of the strange writing hovering in the air above the alien cube. This alone told Max the stick of wood was trouble.

"Do you not have magical practitioners of your own in this country?" Max asked Zhao, who watched impassively.

"Of course, we do not harbour deep resentment to the practice as your country does," the captain answered, "but our artificers have been less than co-operative. One of our foremost experts resides in this very city yet refused to co-operate."

"I heard about this issue and immediately offered Kurhain's assistance," Hoffmann added. "Needless to say, this was met disbelief from the local government. 'Kurhain has magicians?' they scoffed. It took some persuading on my part but once Viktor arrived, he put their concerns to rest. Come, let us take a closer look at their findings." Max held back as Hoffmann headed for the workbench, then turned to speak quietly to Zhao.

"Unless I miss my guess, you're not with the Reformationist faction, correct?" he asked of the captain.

"I am loyal to the cause of Lydeni independence, Major Strauss," Zhao confirmed with a hint of passion in his voice, something Max suspected had been lying hidden beneath his stoic facade.

"These people are unstable, yet are allowed to play with forces beyond their control. What do you and the others in this part of the country think of this... development? Do they not see this is wrong?" Zhao stared at the ambassador, the foreign king and the dark artificer assembled around a relic of unknown power.

"This is being kept secret from the population," Zhao spoke with a measure of disapproval. "If this experiment goes poorly, I trust those in power will shut it down at once."

"I hope you are right, but like politicians everywhere, they are looking to further their own influence and advantage, Captain," Max warned under his breath. "There are no angels in politics."

### 13

### Theft

It took Aislin ten minutes to coax Keg out from beneath the schoolhouse, after he'd dashed between the wooden supports and refused to budge. When he finally emerged, Aislin caught the wayward cat and felt him trembling in her arms.

"He's really scared," Aislin remarked, feeling a little of that herself.

"Need little gem," Carthack rumbled. "I go and get from old man?"

"No, please don't go and confront him," Jaz begged. "I've done enough already. If Boris doesn't clobber you first, grandpa will have a dozen other ways to incapacitate you and then I'll never get back into his good books. I need to think of a way to smooth things over first."

"Okay, we go home then," Carthack suggested. "I carry," he added, kneeling and opening his arms for Aislin to pass Keg over to. The cat offered little resistance and seemed to clutch onto the big man's chest as they headed away, only heightening the gnawing feeling eating away at Aislin's stomach.

If any of the hundreds of people going about their business thought it odd that a giant man, carrying a giant cat was striding through the city streets, they kept their thoughts to themselves. They refrained from discussion until they were safely back inside Jaz's luxurious home, where Carthack gently set Keg down on Aislin's bed. The cat curled up into a ball and laid there, awake but unmoving.

"I've never seen him so out of sorts," Aislin murmured as she stroked his fur.

"Keg can't understand what's happened to him," Jaz explained sadly. "It's like part of his mind has been taken away. I'm so sorry Ace, this is all my fault. I became so used to him being smarter than an average cat I'd completely forgot about the enchanted gem hanging around his neck."

"And more importantly, where ye got it from," Gordon pointed out. Jaz appeared wracked with guilt, and noticed Carthack looking at her without comment.

"Go on, say it, say 'I told you so'," she urged him. "I've been pilfering little trinkets for years and now my busy hands have come back to haunt me."

"You said it for me," Carthack responded with a shrug. Jaz groaned and sprawled flat across the bed, staring up at the ceiling in dismay.

"I'm sure Keg is pretty unhappy right now," Gordon said delicately, "but the bigger issue is yer grandpa. We really needed his help to find Madelyn quickly. Is he likely to cool off sometime soon so as we can get his help?"

"Not likely," Jaz answered, "he holds grudges for quite a long time. I'll be lucky if I'm allowed to finish my education with him after what I've done. I'm in a lot of trouble when mum and dad come home."

"Sounds like yer mum was half-expecting this, really," Gordon surmised. "Families sometimes don't get along too well, y'know? Look," he added, taking out a map and unfurling it across Jaz's sprawled body. "I asked around at a few shops on the way back 'ere, about the road between Decklyn and Kurhain. It's a bit of a hike, but we've enough coin to buy some horses and ponies to cover those miles faster." Aislin peered closer as Gordon traced his finger along the line depicting the road they would take.

"There's no road between the border and Ostermacht," she remarked, seeing only a great expanse of hills and forest north of the capital of Kurhain.

"Aye, we'll have to cut across country to get there, and that'd work in our favour I reckon. We should keep off the roads as much as possible, given that there ain't any dwarves or escardi in Kurhain."

"Yes, we're definitely going to attract attention," Aislin murmured, gazing up at Carthack's towering figure.

"The border crossing is likely to be guarded, too," Gordon added grimly. "There be only two bridges across the Stockford river into Kurhain and we gotta take one of 'em."

"This is crazy," Jaz blurted suddenly, sitting upright and tossing the map aside with one hand. "It'll take us weeks to get there, assuming we're not caught. And we still don't even know where Madelyn is exactly. We could end up wandering around the countryside for months! There's another way."

"This should be good," Gordon sighed as he rolled up the map.

"We need to find Madelyn's exact location and get there in time to save her," Jaz stated. "The best way to do that is to use grandpa's crystal ball, and then see if I can find a way to get us there with magic."

"You said can't go back," Carthack reminded her. "Grandpa angry at you."

"Well, what he doesn't know won't hurt him," Jaz said, squirming a little.

"I don't like where this is headin'," Gordon groaned.

"You want to break into his workshop and steal it?" Aislin asked, perhaps a little more enthusiastically than she should have.

"It's the only way to save Madelyn quickly," Jaz confirmed.

"No, absolutely not," Gordon warned with a shake of his head.

"Oh please, go on," Jaz begged, but Gordon was unshaken.

"I thought ye were smart, girl," he responded, tapping a finger on the side of his head. "How are ye gonna mend yer fences with the man if ye go and steal from 'im?"

"I don't know he'll ever forgive me, but that isn't the important thing right now. What is important, is that Madelyn needs our help, and this is the only way to get to her. Thievery got us into this mess and it's the only thing that'll get us out of it."

"Yer not exactly sellin' me on the idea," Gordon growled.

"Okay, well, think of it as borrowing, not stealing," Jaz implored. "I'll return everything I take from there, I promise."

"And let me guess, ye need my help to get in there."

"I do," Jaz confirmed, gazing at Gordon with her brown eyes wide and sincere, like a puppy begging for scraps. Carthack sighed and shook his head, but Jaz turned her pleading eyes upon him. "Please, let me use my thievery for good instead of evil for a change." Gordon exchanged a glance with the big man and both seemed resigned to the idea.

"Alright, but I'll hold ye to yer word, lass," he warned. "Also, I'm not keen on breakin' into a wizard's house."

"Artificer, not wizard," Jaz corrected.

"What's the difference?" Gordon bristled.

"An artificer creates and channels magical energies through crystals and carefully constructed devices," she intoned as if reading from a book. "A wizard summons and binds extra-dimensional energies through the power of the written word."

"It's all crazy nonsense to me, lass," Gordon grumbled. "Alright, if we're gonna do this, let's at least make a plan. Are ye familiar with the tower's security? Locks and such?"

"Of course," Jaz gushed with relief. "Let's head into my room, I have paper and charcoal to write with.

"While we're there, can we get that magic gem back for Keg?" Aislin asked. Jaz hesitated a little before answering.

"We could take it, sure, but I just promised to give everything back, so... you're going to have to get used to the idea of Keg being an ordinary cat again I'm afraid."

"Can we at least keep it until I can take him home to Bracksford? He doesn't even know where he is right now and he might be a bit of a handful to carry around."

"I'm sure we can make some kind of arrangement," Jaz assured her with a wan smile. "Are you coming? We should let Keg rest."

"I'll stay here for a little while and keep him company," Aislin answered quietly, "I'll join you shortly." Gordon ruffled her hair a little on his way past, as the three of them left her alone with the cat. She didn't say anything, just sat with him for a long time and stroked his fur to reassure him that she was there. He hardly moved and after a while, fell asleep.

Aislin thought of all the times he'd been there for her, even before Bracksford had come under attack and Jaz had given him the benefits of the magical gemstone. He had been her best friend through thick and thin, and it was all she could do to hold back a tear at the thought of losing him.

"I'll get that gem back for you, I promise," she whispered, vowing it more to herself than to him. Feeling sad about the whole affair, Aislin wiped the moisture from her eyes, then quietly left the room and walked down the hall to join the others in Jaz's bedroom. Mirembe was nearby, cleaning a vase with a feather duster as Aislin walked past. The maid gave her a curious look as Aislin opened the door and went inside, being careful to close it behind her.

Inside, sheets of paper covered in notes and diagrams were strewn about and the three of them were talking in quiet voices about different parts of the plan. Carthack sat cross-legged on the floor with a furrowed brow, trying to figure it all out.

"Ah, good timing," Jaz greeted Aislin's arrival. "We've come up with a solid plan so I'll summarise it all for you. After my parents have gone to bed, we'll sneak out and make our way to the school. There's a guard who patrols the grounds at night, but once he passes Mister MacTavish will have a minute to pick the lock on the gate for us to get in." She set aside one sheet and picked up another, holding it up for Aislin to see.

"From there, we creep between the school buildings, making sure the way is clear before we dash to the tower. I'll tell Boris to go back to sleep, and then Mister MacTavish will disable the alarm trap – being careful not to damage it so we can put it back on afterwards – unlock the door, then we're in. We close the door afterwards to make sure the guard doesn't notice, then I go to work. I know where grandpa stores all of his equipment so we'll be out of there in two minutes and return here with everything we need."

"So, you know how to use this crystal ball thing?" Aislin inquired.

"I know the theory," Jaz hedged a little, "but how hard could it be?" Gordon groaned but seemed resigned to the plan.

"What you need me for?" Carthack asked.

"Well," Gordon answered delicately with a glance at Jaz, "the thing of it is, mate, yer kinda big."

"Nothing 'kinda' about it," the escardi responded with a straight face.

"Right, so, this is the sorta job that is best done by us smaller folk, ye understand?"

"I can be quiet," Carthack suggested.

"It's not a sound thing mate, it's more of'n issue with ya tryin' to hide behind a tree what's smaller than yerself."

"Okay, I get it," Carthack rumbled, "too big for sneaky job. Let you handle. I stay here with Keg, keep company," he added, offering a reassuring smile Aislin.

"Thank you," she responded gratefully. With the plan worked out, Jaz destroyed her notes to make sure nobody else found out, then everyone tried to relax and put their feet up for the afternoon. With nothing else to do for a few hours, Aislin spent the time with Keg and even dozed off a bit herself, enjoying the rare opportunity to rest for a while after a long journey.

When night fell, Jaz's parents returned home and they all sat together for the evening meal. Jaz had been concerned about what they'd say when they found out about her clash with Oni's father, but the topic never came up. Something was a bit off about them, for they hardly said anything to each other and there was a faint hint of hostility in the air. Even Gordon's attempts at putting everyone at ease with one of his old stories didn't seem to work.

It was very uncomfortable sitting at the table and Aislin stayed there only as long as it took to finish eating. Jaz must have felt the same, for after watching her parents give each other the cold shoulder for a few minutes, she left as soon as the plate was clean and closed the door behind her.

"Excuse me," Aislin whispered through the silence, wincing as her chair squeaked across the floorboards. She hurried down the hall and went to Jaz's room, softly knocking on the door before slipping inside.

"What was that all about?" Aislin started to say, before noticing Jaz was face-down on her blankets, sobbing into her pillow. She turned to see who'd entered her room and quickly tried to pull herself together.

"Sorry," Jaz sniffed, running a hand through her frizzy hair. "I didn't want anyone to see me like this, least of all them."

"It's okay," Aislin assured her, moving closer to sit on the edge of the bed. "How often are they like this?"

"It started a few years ago," Jaz explained quietly. "Maybe once or twice a month they'd have an argument and then go quiet for a few days afterwards, and after that they'd always get past it and things would go back to normal. I'd hoped that when I came back, they would have resolved whatever problems they're having, but if anything, it's worse. I'm not sure what sets them off."

"Sometimes it seems like the smallest thing will start a shouting match. I don't understand it, so I just bury my head in my work and wait for the storm to subside. Helping them sort out their problems isn't really in my skill set, but at least they didn't find out about grandpa."

The sound of shouting from the dining room could be heard coming through the door, as Uriel and Oni's smouldering disagreement sparked into a full-volume argument once more. Jaz visibly flinched at the noise and flopped back onto the bed, grabbing a pillow and covering her ears. The argument didn't go on for long, possibly due to the presence of Carthack and Gordon, who must have been very uncomfortable at the table. Once things had quietened down, Aislin gave Jaz a reassuring pat on the leg and then headed back to her room to prepare.

Aislin found her amber dress neatly folded in the corner. It had been cleaned and ironed, and someone had tried to mend the various rips and tears on her warm leather pants, tunic and jacket. Once she was dressed, she strapped Sliver to her back and then had to wait another two impatient hours before it was finally time to go. She spent most of this time sitting with Keg, who had at least opened his eyes and nuzzled her a little as she stroked his fur, a good sign that he was slowly returning to his old, pre-gem self.

With a cold wind blowing in the darkness outside, a soft knock on the bedroom door told Aislin it was finally time to go. Carthack loomed in the doorway, a finger on his lips as he stepped inside.

"Take care of him," Aislin whispered, to which the big man gave her a nod before easing himself onto the bed, roughly patting Keg with one huge hand. Aislin smiled wistfully at the sight of the two getting along so well, given the rough start to their association months ago.

She closed the door quietly behind her and crept down the hallway, lit only by a small candle held by Gordon as he and Jaz stood waiting for her. He was in his usual longcoat and leathers, while Jaz, who had been wearing dresses since they'd met was now transformed.

She wore soft leather boots and pants, with a matching tunic strapped with a number of belts. There were places along the belt for various tools and gadgets to hang, though most of them were empty at the moment. A dark blue longcoat lined with pockets covered her outfit, and her long frizzy hair was held back by a bandana of similar colour wrapped around her forehead. Her customary satchel hung around her waist, empty but for one small jar of healing salve.

With only a nod of agreement, the three crept along the hall to the doorway leading out to the garden and left the house. Aislin pulled her jacket's hood over her head against the bitter wind as they headed through the city's streets, icy snow crunching underfoot as they travelled. Jaz had lived in Decklyn for her entire life before travelling north so they had no trouble navigating the streets, even though clouds obscured the dim light of the waning moon and few lanterns along the way broke the darkness.

Few locals were out in the cold winter's night, and those that were huddled in heavy clothing and moved quickly about their own affairs to escape the bitter chill. Aislin looked with envy at windows glowing with warm light from within before putting such thoughts aside and focusing on their work ahead.

After a long journey to the other side of the city, the familiar sight of the school could be seen just up ahead. No lights shone on the compound or the buildings, save for the tower at the far end which appeared to have a few candles burning low inside.

"Is yer grandpa workin' late?" Gordon asked as they three of them kept to the shadows across the street, the agreed upon point where they would survey the area and watch for passing guards.

"I doubt it," Jaz whispered back. "He usually falls asleep in his chair of an evening then toddles off home. Besides, there's not enough light coming through those windows to work with. Grandpa Amadi likes a properly-lit workshop."

"Well enough," Gordon grunted, then motioned for the others to crouch low as a pair of city watchmen on patrol sauntered past.

"It looks like they've stepped up the patrols since I was last here," Jaz remarked in a low voice once they'd gone.

"Then we'd better get on with this afore we're spotted," Gordon suggested, hurrying out of the alleyway towards the school grounds. Aislin and Jaz scurried after him and caught up when he reached the tall gate barring their way in. He already had his tools in hand and set to work on the clunky old lock. It proved to be no match for his skills and quietly, he swung it open enough to allow them in, then closed it behind them.

Aislin's heart was racing as they jogged along the path towards the looming tower, her eyes searching the darkness around them for signs of trouble. The place seemed deserted, except for the night groundsman who patrolled the area until dawn.

"There he is, right on time," Jaz whispered as they paused for breath against the side of the schoolhouse. "Just give him a minute, old Mako likes to take his time when walking his rounds." Indeed, the patrolman, carrying a lantern and sauntering along at a leisurely pace, gradually made his way past their position while Aislin struggled to stop fidgeting out of impatience.

Once he was out of sight, Jaz touched Gordon on the back and they made the final dash to the tower. Gordon went straight for the door and brought his tools to bear, only to find the door already unlocked as it silently swung inward at his touch. They froze, expecting some sort of trap or alarm to sound, but there was nothing. Gordon shot Jaz an inquiring look but she spread her hands wide in exasperation, at a loss to explain it.

"Trouble," Aislin advised, drawing Sliver and crouching low in anticipation. The dwarven engineer nodded his assent and drew a short blade before slowly making his way inside. All three of them were startled by the sound of something thumping against the floor, and by the faint light of a candle coming from further inside, they could see Boris the construct flat on his back, struggling to stand and meet the intruders.

"Boris, we're friends," Jaz hissed, which immediately made the rickety golem stop thrashing about. "Give me a hand to help him stand up."

"What fer?" Gordon argued in a low voice. "Let's just get what we came fer an' clear oot."

"Boris may be a clunky old thing, but he doesn't topple over without reason," Jaz answered. "I fixed that before I left, which means someone or something knocked him down."

Gordon didn't protest further, instead crouching down to help her lift the iron construct back on its feet. Once upright, Boris took one step backward and stood at attention, awaiting further orders. Jaz's attention had shifted to the rest of the workshop though, which was in a state of disarray.

"What happened here?" Aislin asked as she took in the scene. Glass vials lay smashed on their tables, papers were strewn about the place, and drawers had been emptied of their contents, which were scattered across the floor.

"The place has been ransacked," Gordon grimly surmised. Jaz gasped and, with wide eyes rushed to the desks to search them for components. Aislin glanced around to see curtains covering most of the windows, and dared to summon light from her magical bracelet, though she kept the sleeve of her jacket over the top to direct the light along her arm.

"Blood," she whispered pointing Gordon at the signs of fighting they were all too familiar with.

"No bodies, so that's something at least," he mused as he stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Sorta looks like someone was dragged out the door, judging by the direction the blood is smeared. Sorry to say it lass, but yer grandpa's been taken by someone."

"At least he's still alive," Jaz answered with a measure of relief. "There's a lot missing from the workshop, so they were pretty thorough. I'd say they were looking for something specific. Oh good, the crystal ball is still here, probably because it weighs so much." Her eyes widened and she looked with trepidation at Aislin, then dashed to another table and noticed the draw had been pilfered too.

"The mind-enhancing gem's gone too," Jaz sighed. "I'm sorry Aislin, we can't do anything for Keg."

"I'm more concerned about your grandfather," she responded, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her chest.

"What do we do now?" Gordon asked Jaz. "I'm guessin' we can't stay 'ere much longer afore the guard comes 'round to check." Aislin put out her light, and hurried to a window to keep watch, while the other two sorted things out.

"Can you carry this thing?" Jaz asked of him, pointing to the dusty crystal ball sitting on a desk.

"Aye lass, though I won't really be able to conceal that I'm carryin' it."

"We'll have to make do," she answered, gathering bits and pieces from all over the workshop and stuffing them in her pockets and belts, while Gordon heaved the ball into his arms. Once she was done, Jaz grabbed a round tablecloth and covered the conspicuous device, along with most of Gordon's face at the same time. She then had Aislin carry some other odds and ends in her own array of pockets that she'd sown into her dress months ago.

"I can see the watchman," Aislin warned, spotting the lantern's dot of light as Mako came around again.

"What are ye doin?" Gordon hissed at Jaz. "We need to go."

"I need these materials to make something that'll help grandfather," Jaz explained. "We can use the crystal ball to locate him, then I should be able to build something to teleport straight to his location. Okay I have everything, let's go home and I'll starting putting something together."

"Move," Gordon insisted, pointing to the door. Aislin hurried over but Jaz caught something interesting out of the corner of her eyes. A large book lay open upon a desk near one of the sputtering candles, and by its light, Jaz scanned the contents of one page.

"Wait, wait these are the symbols Conrad has engraved on his legs," she hissed in astonishment. With one hand, she lifted the cover and read the book's title. "'A Treatise on Dracari Artifice'," she intoned. "What's a dracari?"

"It' doesn't bloody matter," Gordon snapped under his breath, grabbing her other arm and pulling her away. Not to be denied the offering of knowledge, Jaz grabbed the book and tucked it under one arm as the three of them scurried out of the tower, just before Mako passed by.

Only once they'd left the school grounds did Aislin's heart finally slow down. She didn't complain about the load she was carrying, for Gordon was forced to heft the expensive and very heavy crystal ball the entire way back to Jaz's home, well over an hour away.

After a hectic night, Aislin was glad to finally see it's welcoming lights as they rounded the final corner, only to find the front door hanging from its hinges.

"No, no no no," Jaz muttered as she raced forward, stopping short when she reached the doorway and looked inside. Aislin hurried to catch up, and together they looked upon what appeared to be the scene of an immense struggle.

Tables and chairs had been destroyed, leaving shards of wood scattered around the place. Windows were smashed and a few logs from the fireplace had rolled out, setting nearby carpets on fire. Gordon finally caught up with them and eased the crystal ball down on a table, then gathered up some rugs and ran to the fire to smother the flames before they took hold.

"Mother? Father?" Jaz called in alarm, rushing to their bedroom to find it both empty and in a similar state of disorder.

"Where's Carthack?" Aislin asked aloud, to nobody in particular. At the sound of her voice, Keg emerged from beneath a ruined table and mewed over and over, rushing to her side as if trying to explain what had happened. She petted him to calm him down, all the while taking in the scene around them.

"Jaz?" Mirembe called from down the hallway, slowly moving to join them in the dining room while holding a wet cloth against the side of her head. Jaz rushed to her side and helped her to sit on the couch, then pulled out her jar of salve and started applying it to the wound.

"What happened?" Aislin asked while she worked.

"Armed men broke into the house thirty minutes ago," Mirembe explained in a shaking voice, her nerves frayed after the unexpected intrusion. "They started tearing the place apart looking for something, but your big friend tried to stop them. He couldn't take them all at once however, and eventually went down. They grabbed him, along with your mother and father and left."

"How many o' them were there?" Gordon asked as he finished securing the fireplace.

"Six," Mirembe confirmed.

"He gave 'em a hell of a fight," Gordon muttered, glancing around at the results. He spotted something behind the dining table and moved in closer to look. "Found one of 'em," he added, shifting a chair to reveal the remains of one man who appeared to have been thrown across the room. Jaz finished up treating Mirembe and joined him to look at one of the people who had invaded her home, and when she did, she gasped.

"This wasn't a group of thugs attacking my family," she exclaimed, "he's wearing the uniform of the State Army." Aislin looked and saw the body was wearing chain armour covered in a blue tabard with Lyden's flag on the front, depicting a raised fist and broken chains. "I don't need magic to know where they've been taken. They're being held at Castle Decklyn, probably alongside grandpa." They went silent at the implications, until Gordon moved into action.

"We canna stay here," he warned. "I don't know what they was lookin' fer but best we don't stick around if they send more around here fer another try. Get yer things, we're findin' somewhere else to sleep tonight." He hurried to his guest room to gather his things, and the others did the same. When the gathered in the dining room again Gordon was laden with his weapons, as well as the crystal ball held in his arms.

Aislin had planned to carry Keg, but the alarmed cat seemed eager to stay by her side. As they headed for the door, Mirembe had one last thing to say.

"I can't go with you," she warned them.

"What?" Jaz blurted. "You can't stay here or they might come back."

"I won't leave the house unattended like this," she explained. "With your parents gone, it is my responsibility. Go, find them and bring them home. I'll be here, waiting and praying for you."

"Alright, it's yer own choice ma'am," Gordon reluctantly agreed. "Best do the right thing and inform the City Watch though. Just don't tell 'em we were here, okay?"

Mirembe silently agreed, then Gordon nodded towards the door, ushering the two girls outside. Aislin looked wistfully back at the receding light and warmth of Jaz's home, and when she looked at her friend's expression, she saw a young woman haunted by the sudden attack on her family, by the very people who should have been protecting them.

### 14

### Power

Maximilian slowly stalked around the large workbench at the centre of the chamber, his eyes never leaving the blackened shaft of wood held between two iron braces in the dungeon of Castle Decklyn. At first glance it seemed innocuous enough, yet there was a certain indefinable quality to it that drew his attention and that of everyone in the room, none more so than Osric Davignon.

Despite the animosity between them, the exiled King seemed to ignore Max completely, his eyes darting between the glowing magical book and the shaft of wood as he and Viktor discussed their findings. This, more than anything else, told Max the real reason Grand Duchess Frieda had sent him here.

"Unremarkable, don't you think?" Ambassador Hoffmann quietly asked of Max as he hovered uncomfortably close to the major. "To the untrained eye, this is nothing more than a shaft of wood, yet from what I'm told, it is a weapon of unfathomable power, enough to bring our enemies to their knees and end the war."

"Why here?" Max inquired, catching Hoffmann off guard. "If this is so valuable and powerful, why come to a foreign land and risk it falling into the hands of others?"

"Come now Major, you know as well as I our country's distrust of magic," he answered, "besides, it was unearthed in this country and they were quite reluctant to let it fall into our hands. Instead, we are here to offer our expert advice, as an offer of good will to potential new allies."

"And this is your 'expert advisor'?" Max asked under his breath, subtly nodding towards Osric, who seemed oblivious to their conversation.

"I understand your concerns. Viktor's initial assessment indicated the artefact pre-dated known magic, and he would be unable to divine its purpose without extensive research. Fortunately, King Osric was intimately acquainted with such obscure artifice and convinced the Grand Duke he could still prove useful after the debacle at Aurumgaard. His advice has proved both accurate and invaluable, for they are learning much about this relic that was hidden from even the most learned minds for decades."

"The Lydeni have had this thing for decades?" Max asked a little too loudly. It was not Hoffmann who answered, but Viktor.

"We stand in a Ramidian castle, Major," he intoned in a powerful voice somewhat diminished by age, continuing to work as he spoke. "This entire country is built upon the ashes of their old empire – its people, its buildings, and its hidden secrets."

"You have been introduced to Lord Viktor Grekov before, yes?" Hoffmann asked of Max, who shook his head.

"I've seen him before but never had the pleasure."

"Indeed," Viktor remarked, glancing at Max briefly with pale, glittering eyes. "We met briefly as your wife and I breathed life into one of my grand experiments, a construct of surpassing power and size, armed with black powder weaponry. Anika is a gifted engineer and mathematician, Major, a true asset to the cause."

"She is that," Max answered curtly, adding, "The cannons didn't help, by the way."

"They did enough," Viktor assured him with a mirthless smile. "I personally watched them fell the gates of Aurumgaard, gates that had never before fallen to an enemy. What happened afterwards was merely... unfortunate."

"You were there?" Max asked curiously.

"I walked in the shadows and directed the construct's actions remotely," Viktor confirmed. "An imperfect method, though necessary under the circumstances."

"I see. You were speaking about the origin of this... stick," Max prompted, approaching the workbench.

"Quite so. This relic was unearthed shortly after the fall of this province, at the dawn of Lyden itself. Records reveal it had been interred countless centuries ago and simply forgotten, while the old Ramidian empire rotted away on the surface above. The Lydeni researchers were unable to understand its purpose so they stored it away from prying eyes, until my involvement and that of my learned colleague here."

"Is this colleague standing behind Osric?" Max asked innocently, drawing a dry grin from Captain Zhao that disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Osric was far less amused.

"Once again you underestimate me," he complained as a dark look marred his fine features.

"On the contrary, past events have allowed me to estimate your capabilities quite accurately," Max responded brusquely. A deathly silence fell over the room as the two of them exchanged steely glares.

"Gentlemen, please," Hoffmann interrupted, "we are all on the same side here. Majesty, please tell us of your discoveries." The deference shown to him seemed to placate Osric, who closed the small metal box, causing the glowing pages of the book hovering above it to disappear.

"As you stated Ambassador, this relic is a weapon, though it is incomplete," Osric explained, pointing carefully at one end of the shaft. "If you'll look on this edge here, you can make out a locking mechanism, which my records indicate is designed to link with another section similar to this."

"Would you care to enlighten us as to how you know any of this?" Max asked, trying to put him on the spot. "How does someone so young learn obscure knowledge that even our most accomplished sorcerer does not?"

"The term 'sorcerer' is a vulgar insult," Viktor purred maliciously, and appeared ready to say more before Osric placed one hand on his arm.

"Don't let him bait you, dear Viktor. His mind is incapable of grasping the secrets we hold. I will say only that I was fortunate to work with someone steeped in ancient knowledge who, upon her death, bequeathed to me a relic containing all knowledge of this forgotten artifice." He briefly held the metal cube up to show it off, before shoving it back into one of his pockets. "With this resource and enough time, any surviving relics from that era can be made to work for us."

"And what do you get out of this?" Max challenged.

"The same deal as before, Major," Osric reminded him. "Your people help me reclaim my throne, and I help you destroy your enemies. I'm not insensitive to your losses during the Aurumgaard campaign – made for my benefit – and as recompense to Grand Duke Lothar, I will keep my part of the bargain and use my unique knowledge to help you end your war. Once that is done, this power will help me win mine."

"What is the exact nature of this power?" Captain Zhao asked suspiciously. "You have alluded to much, but explained little."

"It is magical energy of a concentrated nature, far more potent than any used on a more common basis," Osric explained.

"I think this may be the cause of your dragon problems," Max warned. "If it is as powerful as you say, the beast could smell this weapon from fifty kilometres away."

"We are secure enough here, within this ancient fortress," Captain Zhao explained. "The mere fact it hasn't attacked tells me that while it may detect something in the area, it cannot pinpoint where."

"By the time the dragon figures it out," Osric assured everyone, "the weapon will be complete and I shall deal with that beast once and for all."

"It doesn't seem to matter," Max answered, "since that weapon would appear to be useless without its other half, am I correct?"

"A problem that will be resolved shortly," Viktor assured him. "During my long years of study, I taught several apprentices who showed great promise, several of whom were Lydeni. With the knowledge I instilled within them, they became accomplished artificers and in turn, helped me track down several other relics similar to this. One will be joining us shortly and I believe he may hold the answers we seek. Then, we can re-assemble this staff and see what it is capable of."

"The very fact it had been dis-assembled at some point," Max pointed out, "begs the question of why. If the Ramidians had such a weapon, why break it apart and hide it when it could have been used to defeat us during the Liberation? What prompted them to bury a weapon that could have helped them reign supreme on this island and quite possibly, the rest of the world?"

"I have no interest in their reasoning," Viktor mused, "only in capitalising on their mistakes. Their loss is our gain." He was interrupted when the heavy door to the dungeons opened and a dozen people entered, carrying between them several struggling captives, one of whom was well over two metres in height and must have weighed close to two hundred kilograms.

He was handled roughly by four men at once, and even then, they struggled to push him around. The giant's face, arms and chest bore many scars, most of them from old injuries but they were complemented by new welts and bruises which no doubt occurred when the soldiers captured him.

"To the cells," Captain Zhao ordered as his men struggled to keep the giant under control. In addition to the huge man, an older gentleman in brown robes and a middle-aged couple who appeared alarmed at their capture were quickly bustled to the cells along the far wall. Each of the doors was shut with a resounding 'clang', except for one which was lined with shelves and cabinets.

Four of the soldiers carried boxes of small, curious items into this cell and carefully placed the contents onto shelves and into drawers, much to Viktor's satisfaction.

"What's all this about?" Maximilian asked suspiciously.

"Our guests have finally joined us," Viktor remarked, "though there is someone here I was not expecting."

"Who is the large prisoner, Sergeant Castilla?" Zhao asked of the lead guard, whose face also showed severe bruising.

"We went to the Katan estate as ordered," he explained, "expecting to meet little resistance. He was there too and came to their defence. Although unarmed, he was a formidable challenge and I lost one of my men in the fight." Viktor, leaning on a wooden staff, slowly made his way to the cells to examine the huge man, who grasped onto the bars with both hands and glared back at him.

"I do not think he is entirely human," Viktor concluded after a cursory examination. "The amber eyes alone are quite odd, but it is his proportions that allude to a strange heritage. Why did you not kill him, Sergeant?"

"We were ordered to bring in everyone except the maid alive," Castilla answered simply.

"You have done well," Zhao answered him. "Get your wounds attended to at once." The sergeant saluted and along with most of his men, left the dungeon. Osric's face bore a smug smile as he approached the giant's cell.

"Well well, if it isn't the escardi warrior Carthack Valdis," he crooned, raising eyebrows around the room. Judging by his suddenly fierce expression, the man called Carthack appeared to recognise Osric too. Max's ears pricked up at the mention of Carthack's name, recognising him as one of the companions Madelyn had spoken of.

"You know this creature?" Viktor asked in surprise.

"He and a few others known to him have pursued me all the way from Aielund, in the north," Osric explained mildly, speaking in the Kurhanir tongue which Carthack apparently could not understand. "He is one of my sworn enemies, and now he's just fallen within my grasp."

"I will interrogate him," Maximilian stated bluntly. Osric whirled to face him with a sneer on his face.

"Not this time," he snapped. "You may have prevented me from accessing your beautiful captive, but we are not on Kurhanir soil, Major. I will interrogate him when the time comes, and he will tell me everything." Before Max could answer, the old robed man in one of the other cells came close to the bars and spoke.

"I might have known you were involved, Viktor," he spat. "You seem to have fallen in with foreign scum, come to pick apart our country. Whatever you're up to, you'll get no help from me."

"You should speak to your old master with a little more respect, Amadi," Viktor responded calmly. "If you'd only co-operated earlier, all of this could have been avoided. Now we will get what we need from you whether you like it or not, or your family will indeed suffer." The couple held in the third cell had been silent, terrified at their capture by armed men, but now one of them spoke up, an angry man approaching middle age.

"Who are you people and what do you want with my family?" he ordered with as much conviction as he could muster.

"Mister Katan," Viktor addressed him politely. "Uriel, isn't it? I do hate to bring you into this, as you have done nothing wrong. Yet, your father-in-law can be quite stubborn and so you and your lovely wife are here as insurance."

"You mean you'll kill them if I don't co-operate," Amadi snarled, showing a lot of backbone for someone of his age.

"Of course not, we aren't barbarians," Captain Zhao protested. "But we also cannot allow you to withhold this relic any longer. You were warned several times, Amadi, that we would not permit you to keep it for yourself. You will co-operate, or accidents may start happening to your family."

"It's people like you that made me want to keep this damnable relic out of your hands in the first place," Amadi challenged the captain. "Need I remind you of the old saying about the corrupting influence of true power?"

"Enough," Viktor interrupted. "For now, let's see what the good captain's men have brought for us." Viktor made his way into the fourth cell, in which had been placed boxes filled with books and strange equipment. The old artificer raised a hand and a bracelet around his wrist glowed brightly, shedding light on the room's contents. With Osric and Zhao helping, he rifled through the contents, searching for items of interest to their work.

Max was conflicted, sensing events here were well outside the jurisdiction of the Kurhanir, yet Viktor was given deference above and beyond what anyone of his kith, the Khoda, would normally receive. Max took Ambassador Hoffmann by the elbow and moved him to one side.

"What deal have you made with the Lydeni government that allows us to capture their citizens?" he hissed under his breath.

"Captain Zhao was the one who carried out that order," Hoffmann corrected, which Max quickly countered.

"Unless I'm mistaken, he took his orders from Viktor. You appear to be taking orders from Viktor, Your Excellency, and I'm wondering just how far this farce will go."

"You know the stakes, Major," Hoffmann warned. "If we don't recover this weapon, we certainly can't allow another country to control it either. If you are uncomfortable with doing what it takes to win the war, your services will no longer be required."

Max simmered in silence at the rebuke, wanting nothing more than to put a stop to this. Reality seeped through his anger however, as he remembered he had no weapon that could harm Osric, and Viktor was undoubtedly bristling with sorcerous power as well. This was not the time to fight, but to watch and learn, then report back to the Grand Duchess so that she and her allies could take appropriate action.

"There it is," Viktor remarked as he retrieved a long, narrow case of polished wood from one of the boxes. He set it down on one of the desks and carefully opened it with both hands. With equal precision, he lifted a shaft of wood of roughly a metre in length from within and held it close to examine it. It was the same dark wood as the one braced on the central workbench, though longer and featuring curious green lines along its length.

"If you have any sense at all," Amadi warned from the next cell, "you'll put that back where you found it and forget about this whole affair."

"You were always small-minded, old friend," Viktor responded quietly, continuing to gaze upon the shaft of wood with a strange longing. "This represents the pinnacle of our art, that which we all strive to achieve. You would bury it away and focus on your tiny devices and baubles, while the answers to our most difficult questions lie within our grasp? You were always stubborn, Amadi, but I never thought you were a fool."

"I learned enough to realise I didn't want to learn anymore," Amadi countered. "We both know whole civilisations, far more advanced than ours have been swallowed up by events beyond our understanding, and if you keep pursuing this you might be swallowed up too. Some questions are best left unanswered, Master."

Viktor handed the piece of the staff to Osric, who eagerly returned to the central bench to attach it to the other section. Viktor, however, remained in the cell with all of Amadi's possessions.

"So, where is the final piece?" he firmly asked.

"I don't have it and never have," Amadi responded.

"I know you went on several expeditions twenty years ago," Viktor pressed. "The Lydeni government was very keen on recovering the other pieces, and you were their foremost expert."

"We found a few minor relics, nothing connected to that thing," Amadi snapped, pointing at the staff.

"Do you really expect me to believe that?"

"You have practically everything I own, right at your fingertips," Amadi responded. "See for yourself." Viktor exchanged a lingering gaze with his old apprentice, then turned to Captain Zhao and spoke quietly enough that Max couldn't hear. The captain shook his head and gestured at a few of the boxes, but Viktor didn't seem impressed.

"Nothing from dear Oni's house, and half of what you recovered from Amadi's workshop are simply children's projects, beneath my dignity to bother with," he growled, tossing a few shiny baubles around in frustration before his eyes settled on something within what looked like a rubbish bin. Gingerly, he pulled out a small piece of paper, yellowed from time and appearing to have been folded into a small dart.

"That's rubbish, don't even bother with it," Amadi scoffed dismissively, though Viktor ignored him completely. His withered hands unfolded the paper and he his eyes moved back and forth, evidently reading something scrawled upon it. He took a heavy-looking monocle from his pocket and held it over one eye, examining the note in fine detail.

"This would appear to be message paper," he remarked. "I thought I was the only remaining practitioner with the secret of making it. Curious. I regret that I haven't taken more of an interest in the personal life of your children, Amadi," he added quietly, retrieving another piece of paper, and another. "I didn't even know your daughter had a daughter of her own. And she was one of your pupils? Very interesting."

"Leave her out of this, you old fool," Amadi warned. "Nobody hurts my family."

"Evidently, I do," Viktor remarked after a cursory glance at Amadi's daughter and her husband locked in the next cell. "It says here your granddaughter was at Aurumgaard around the time of the siege, though she makes no specific mention of it. Trying to spare your mother's feelings I suppose. What was she doing up there I wonder, so far from home?"

"She is one of Carthack's companions," Osric explained as he focused on the task before him. "And yes, she was at the siege, fighting alongside the dwarves. In fact, there was an arcane construct on the front line, defending against the assault. I suppose it must have been hers." A smile slowly spread across Viktor's bearded face as he read from other notes.

"So young Jaz was sent north to learn from the masters in Fairloch, capital of Aielund," he summarised from the note in his hand, "yet their grand university had closed years before. You and I knew that, Amadi, yet someone neglected to mention that to her? Perhaps she unwittingly carried something with her on her fruitless voyage, a memento from her family?"

"Dad, what is he talking about?" Amadi's daughter asked, daring to speak for the first time.

"He's manipulating us Oni, ignore him," he responded. "My granddaughter is innocent in this," Amadi implored his old master. "Please, leave her out of it."

"Oh, I think you've involved her already," Viktor purred, before turning to Captain Zhao. "The very fact that Carthack was at her parent's place, suggests young Jaz has returned in pursuit of King Osric. She has what we need - find her and bring her here."

The captain did not salute, but had little choice but to follow the order. His eyes ever so briefly glanced at Max as he marched past, indicating he was less than thrilled with the course of events. Carthack may not have understood much of their conversation, but at the mention of Jaz's name and the captain leaving, the big man slammed his fists against the bars.

"You hurt Jaz, I hurt you," he rumbled in broken Ramidian.

"No, you will sit in your cell and watch," Viktor assured him in the same language. A crow of triumph from Osric caught their attention, and Max could see that the two pieces of the staff had been successful fitted together, forming a long shaft a metre and a half in length.

"Once we have the final piece, we will be ready to test it," Osric explained. "I suppose I will have to find something to do while we wait."

"You can interrogate the prisoner later, Majesty," Viktor advised as he left the cage and locked the gate behind him. "We need to continue our research if we have any hope of controlling the energies this device produces."

"I think we've concluded our business for now," Ambassador Hoffmann responded politely. "The Major and I have other affairs to attend to, such as a certain dragon that's sniffing around."

"You'd better pray that thing doesn't draw it here," Max warned as he followed the ambassador to the exit.

"If it does, I will simply move us to my reserve workshop," Osric answered with a shrug. "Farewell Major, give my warmest regards to the Lady Madelyn." At the mention of her name, Carthack's attention turned on Maximilian, who hesitated for a moment before moving in closer to the cells. Even with his extensive injuries, the giant was an imposing sight up close, having to crouch down to even fit in the cell. Carthack glared down at him and Max hoped the ancient cell bars were able to keep him at bay. He crooked a finger, and the prisoner leaned even closer, with barely ten centimetres between them.

"Madelyn lives, and is well," Max whispered in words Carthack could understand. "I will soon arrange for her release, and your own if I am able. Osric has many enemies." He exchanged a look with the huge man, who appeared to understand his meaning with the slightest nod. He then shook the bars in mock anger to cover the exchange, as Max headed for the door with only a quick glance at Osric's unsuspecting smirk.

Once they were back upstairs, Hoffmann kept him busy with military matters, especially concerning the dragon's threat should it decide to attack. Max advised the use of arbalests for their soldiers, and suggested the heavy ballistae mounted on the parapets might be sufficient to wound the beast, though he secretly knew they had little chance of that.

By the end of the day, Max had helped them as much as he could and turned in for the night, with the intention of heading back to Fort Nordgrenze at first light. He had all the information he needed regarding Osric's presence, and wanted to give Grand Duchess Frieda as much lead time as he could to do what she needed to do.

The coach ride through Lyden the following day was interminable, for the roads had turned to icy mud after a heavy snowfall and progress was even slower than the journey in. By the time his coach rolled back through the gates of Fort Nordgrenze, Max was cold, tired and utterly fed up with travel for a while. He looked forward to nothing more than sitting in front of a roaring fire as he wrote up a report on his findings at Decklyn. He was split on whether to send it through Yuri and hope it wasn't intercepted, or to personally deliver the news himself.

The coach came to a halt in the courtyard as heavy snow continued to fall and through the foggy glass window, Max could see his men gathering to welcome him back. He opened the door and stepped outside, receiving a salute from twenty men who stood upright and in formation, a splendid sight for a career officer to see in once unruly men.

Max returned their salute and stepped forward to shake Sergeant Kopernic's offered hand, only to have iron manacles snapped into place. Maximilian was surprised for only a moment, but it was long enough for the sergeant to grab his other hand and manacle that too, leaving him stunned and almost helpless in the face of this treachery.

"What is the meaning of this?" he roared.

"Major Strauss, you are under arrest for consorting with the enemy, the intention of betraying your oath as an officer of Kurhain, and for high treason," Kopernic practically shouted in his ear. "You will be taken into custody immediately and transported to Ostermacht tomorrow morning to be held until such time as a court martial can be arranged, by order of General Wolcott."

Two of the soldiers grabbed Max by the shoulders and roughly pushed him towards the fort, while the rest of them looked on with disdain bordering on outrage. He shouted his protests but a hefty punch in the gut from Kopernic was all he received for his troubles, leaving him gasping for breath and unable to speak. Before they removed him from the courtyard, he managed to catch a glimpse of the office where Madelyn was being held and saw it was dark, with no sign of her presence within.

15

### Rescue

In the darkness of Decklyn's alleyways, Aislin spotted two members of the City Watch approaching through the evening crowd. Uncertain if she was being hunted, she took no chances and ducked out of sight behind a stall until they passed. There weren't many fair-skinned people in the city, but there were enough that she didn't stand out too much.

The owner of the stall was a tall, bald man of swarthy complexion who spotted her hiding there and barked something at her in the local language. Unable to understand his words, Aislin could only assume he was wondering what she was doing back there. On a hunch, she pointed at sticks of wood arranged on the counter, each of them with small slices of sizzling mystery meat speared upon them. The stall owner's mood immediately improved as her bluff paid off, and he offered her one of the meat sticks, to which she responded with three fingers.

He smiled broadly and gave her three, and Aislin dropped a few coins into his waiting hand. Judging by his reaction, she had overpaid for the food but he wasn't about to refuse. Of all the things Aislin and her remaining friends needed right now, money wasn't one of them. Pleased that she'd avoided drawing undue attention to herself and acquired their evening meal, Aislin hurried through the alleyways back to the little shack they'd rented from someone who was paid enough not to ask questions.

She was a country girl at heart, and had never even seen a big city until she'd arrived at Aurumgaard months ago. She was a fast learner though, and over the last few days Aislin had become very familiar with the narrow alleys of Decklyn's poor quarter, where she and her friends had been hiding. She had kept to the busy little side streets and only went out at night, where the cover of darkness reduced her chances of being discovered.

Hopping over a mound of snow, Aislin approached the shack's old wooden door and knocked twice, then once, then twice again - the signal they had agreed upon for the night. The sound of many locks clicking open could be heard, and moments later Gordon swung the door open just enough to allow Aislin inside, easing back the hammer on his sidearm once he was certain the coast was clear.

"All good?" he asked once the door was closed.

"Mission accomplished," Aislin assured him, setting the meat sticks down on a plate and removing her pack, which was laden with supplies.

"You wouldn't have to stay on guard so much if you'd let me bring Conrad here," Jaz called from behind a pile of parts and tools.

"We're in hidin', lass," Gordon called back to her. "I canna think o' anythin' better to bring the coppers here than a giant metal man on our doorstep."

"You should at least let Ace go and check on him," Jaz admonished the dwarven engineer.

"He weighs the better part o' a ton and looks like a statue. I'm sure he's right were ye left 'im."

"Fine," Jaz grumbled, returning to her work in the small shack. It was quite a change from the opulence of the Katan family home, but Aislin actually felt more at ease here than she had for a while, for it reminded her of the simple pleasures of home. A crackling fire kept the cold at bay, and with Keg curled into a ball in front of it, the place was almost homely. Once the big ginger cat smelled the food Aislin had brought home however, he was suddenly sitting at her feet, staring up at her in an attempt to mesmerise her into handing over the bounty.

When they started their journey, they had been five people and one very smart cat, now reduced to only herself, Gordon and Jaz, and Keg was now little more than furry luggage without the benefits of the magical gem. The kitchen table had been taken over by Jaz, who had spread out papers and tools as she worked feverishly to build whatever gizmos was she was working on.

"I like a lady who brings home food," Gordon remarked, moving closer to investigate the supplies. "What is that, anyway?" Aislin gingerly took a bite of the greasy meat and found it not unpleasant.

"It's definitely some kind of meat," she advised cautiously.

"Oh, you've bought kebabs," Jaz said as she peered up from her work long enough to take one for herself. She was sporting a new pair of omnigoggles on top of her head, constructed from the bits and pieces they'd taken from her grandfather's workshop. Aislin tried to ignore the dark rings around her eyes that came from working too many late nights. "When things would get bad around the house, I'd sneak out of an evening and visit those little stalls for my dinner. There's such huge variety here if you know where to look."

"No complaints," Gordon responded as he tore into the food, while Aislin dropped a few pieces for Keg to devour. Once they were finished with the meal, Jaz wiped her hands clean and went through the supplies Aislin had brought, nodding in satisfaction at common household items which were promptly pulled to pieces for specific components.

Growing impatient with every passing idle hour, Aislin had to content herself with sitting next to the fire while Jaz worked until she finally sighed in relief.

"Okay, everything's ready," Jaz explained, gathering up her gear and strapping things onto her various belts.

"Just about done here," Gordon murmured as he finished loading his astonishing number of firearms. He took a moment to look up to Aislin with a question stamped on his face, one which she already knew was coming.

"I'm going with you," she responded firmly.

"Not gonna argue with ye lass," Gordon chuckled. "Just know it's gonna be a loud and messy fight."

"I've seen them before," Aislin reminded him, though her stomach turned at the prospect of being in amongst the chaos of battle once more. Jaz cleared some space on the table and turned to a large, spherical object to her right. With a flourish, she removed a piece of cloth covering it, to reveal the large crystal ball beneath.

"Well, there's no sense in delaying this any longer," Jaz muttered, staring with determination at the mystical device.

"You were avoiding it?" Aislin asked curiously.

"It's not like I've ever used it before," Jaz explained ruefully, then looked at Gordon, expecting a biting remark about her capabilities.

"At this point, nothing surprises me," Gordon sighed as he sat at the table next to her. "Ye've managed to do some amazing things over the last few months lass, so I'm sure ye'll conquer this too."

"Thanks," Jaz smiled with genuine gratitude. "Okay, so everything else is ready to go – I've put together a rudimentary teleporter which should take us where we need to go, assuming they aren't outside of the one-hundred-mile range limit."

"Couldn't we just go a hundred miles and then use it again?" Aislin pointed out.

"Yes, and I'm sure that's how Osric was able to flit around like he does, from one end of the country to the other. His magic is much more powerful than what I have to work with though. Every time we use this thing it consumes a valuable gemstone in the process. I have three such gems. That's three teleports, so unless we try and rob a jewellery store or beg some of the local nobles, this is all we have to work with."

"And were ye plannin' on usin' this thing to free Madelyn too?" Gordon asked.

"Yes, and that's the problem," Jaz muttered. "Before my family was taken captive, I could easily have used this to get inside Madelyn's prison and take her out again. Now we have to free my family first, using two of the gems, and after that we can either get into Madelyn's prison and be stuck there with her, or break in some other way and then teleport out."

"One hurdle at a time, lass," Gordon advised as he performed one last check on his weapons. "Find out where everyone's staying, get yer parents free and then we figure out how to help Maddie."

"Okay, here goes," Jaz answered, letting out a breath of air as she raised her hands, fingers extended, to the glassy surface of the crystal ball. She closed her eyes and concentrated, though for nearly a minute nothing seemed to happen. Then, the candles lighting their little hideaway sputtered as if from a sudden gust of wind, though there wasn't any. The room's temperature seemed to drop and Aislin shivered, while Keg's fur stood on end as if he sensed a threat.

"Is uh, this supposed to be happenin'?" Gordon asked nervously, glancing around at the strange occurrences.

"Everything's fine," Jaz assured them in a relaxed voice, opening her eyes to gaze into the ball at her fingertips. As Aislin watched, a faint white glow began emanating from within the glass sphere, and Jaz became fixated on the mystical device.

"I see them," she breathed, "I see my family. My mother and father are in a cell. They're tired, hurt and scared, but they're okay. Grandpa is in the cell next to them... oh dear, he's not looking well. I think the people holding him have hurt him a lot more. Carthack is in the cell next to him, and he's worse off than grandpa, the poor man."

"Where are they being held?" Aislin prompted, looking over Jaz's shoulder to try and see what the girl was looking at. The image was indistinct and flickered as if about to vanish at any moment, but she could indeed see the image of the old man slumped in a dark cell. As she watched, the view seemed to pull back, showing the entire room and Aislin was alarmed at what she saw. Gordon leaned forward and peered into the crystal ball to see for himself.

"I see five guards, a few senior-lookin' officials and... is that a tiger?" he mused while stroking his plaited beard thoughtfully. "Never mind. If ye can put us between the door and the cells, we can use the element o' surprise to catch 'em off guard. I can take out a few of them before they know what's happenin', but I'm going to need Conrad to back me up."

"Of course, I'll be able to summon him once we arrive," Jaz murmured, still deep in concentration. "I can take three of us with no trouble, but anyone above that number could ruin the whole process."

"How do we get them out if you can only take three at once?" Aislin asked.

"I'm hoping grandpa will be able to help me by giving me some of his energy," Jaz answered hopefully.

"He looks very tired," Aislin reluctantly pointed out.

"I don't have any other answers, Ace," Jaz responded testily. "This is the best I can do."

"Can ye find Maddie?" Gordon prompted to change the subject. Jaz nodded and returned to concentrating on the sphere. The scene vanished, replaced by a grey mist that swirled within.

"She's not family so it's not as easy to locate her," Jaz murmured. "I need to focus on her very closely, her personality, her annoyingness, her smug, superior attitude..."

"Hey, she's not that bad," Aislin protested, though Gordon raised a hand.

"Don't distract her, Ace," he said in Jaz's defence. The mist cleared in the glass ball revealing Madelyn in a dark cell, wearing a bedraggled blue dress and manacles on her wrists that chained her to the wall. The two girls gasped when they saw this, though Gordon appeared to have been expecting it.

"At least she's still alive," he growled. "Is she in the same castle?"

"No, this is some other place," Jaz answered, pulling back the view, out past the layers of stone until they were looking down on a fortress from above. "I'm sensing it's to the west, just across the border," Jaz added.

"We have to hurry," Aislin prompted anxiously.

"Aye lass, we certainly do," Gordon answered, standing up and looking meaningfully at Jaz, who dismissed the image and leaned back, apparently a little drained from the effort.

"I'm okay," she answered his unspoken question. "We can't wait any longer," she declared nervously, grabbing a few last items from the table around her and strapping them to her belts. "Just stand together in the open space there, and I'll start the process."

"Keg, wait here, we'll be back soon," Aislin whispered to her cat while they took their place in the centre of the dining room, though he gave no indication he'd understood her meaning. Aislin's heart began to beat faster as Jaz fidgeted with one of her devices, a short piece of metal with a large gemstone prominently displayed at the top, and an assortment of other bits and pieces attached to it.

"We're ready, right?" Jaz asked the others.

"Ready," Aislin responded confidently, thrilled that they were finally doing something after days of sitting around waiting. Gordon gave her a nod and secured his helmet with the padded ear covers on his head, then drew a weapon in each hand as the gem on the teleporter glowed a swirling violet colour. Jaz concentrated with her eyes closed, whispering words as she focused on their destination. Aislin drew Sliver and marvelled at its shine, while Gordon had Thunderchief on his back, and was decked out in a number of bandoliers with smaller sidearms tucked into it.

"How many of those do you have, anyway?" Aislin inquired of his weapons.

"Not enough," Gordon answered grimly as the violet light grew to engulf them. Having experienced this sort of thing before when the dragon Spartan had taken her to and from Bracksford, Aislin could sense when the magic was about to kick in. They were just about to disappear when Keg, apparently sensing that he was being left behind, meowed loudly and darted to Aislin's side.

"Keg, no!" she cried, but it was too late. The violet light flashed even brighter and there was a sense of moving in every direction at once. This sensation lasted only a moment, as the scene of the shack around them was replaced by the dim cells of Castle Decklyn.

Aislin and Keg appeared above the floor and immediately fell, with the cat landing far more gracefully than she. Jaz appeared on the ground a few feet away, but neither of them ended up where they were supposed to be. A quick glance around told Aislin they had, in fact, ended up directly inside one of the cells with Jaz's grandfather. In the cell next to them lay a startled Carthack, who sported deep claw marks on his body. Only Gordon had appeared at the original destination, but he stood alone in a room full of surprised enemies.

Unaware of the girl's situation, Gordon took aim and fired at the guards, taking one down quickly and wounding another. The sudden thunder of the firearms within the stone room was deafening and it caught the attention of all present. Keg, already bewildered by the sudden change of surroundings bolted at the sound of Gordon's weapons, squeezing through the gap between bars into the adjacent cell, in which were piles of boxes, papers and equipment offering plenty of spaces to hide.

"Ugh, my head," Jaz moaned, clutching at the sides of her head from something other than the noise. "Too much mass, and something was pulling us away from the target."

"Bring Conrad here, quick," Aislin exclaimed as Gordon tossed aside his empty sidearms and drew two more. He finished off the wounded guard with a quick shot and then rushed for cover behind a desk nearby. Jaz nodded and concentrated through her pounding headache, only to look around in surprise when the hulking construct didn't appear out of thin air.

"Something's wrong," Jaz cried, then noticed her grandfather trying to get her attention. Although he said nothing, he extended a finger at the bars around them. Jaz glanced around frantically as the other guards charged Gordon's position. Aislin also looked, and noticed faintly glowing symbols etched into the metal of the bars.

"Sigils of warding," Jaz breathed with dread. "They block magic – I'm powerless!" Aislin stared at her in horror then grasped the bars in a futile attempt to shake them open, helplessly watching Gordon battle a room full of people on his own. "Wait, I have a couple of bombs," Jaz stammered, retrieving them from her belt with shaking hands, then tossing them towards the rushing guards.

The explosions tossed two men aside and half-filled the chamber with thick smoke, buying them time. Across the room, Aislin gasped as she spied the distinctive blond locks of King Osric crouched behind the central workbench, cowering from the sudden attack. He appeared ready to step in and unleash his powerful magic when a man in a dark robe next to him held him back with a raised hand. Far from being afraid, he actually appeared to be watching the fight with keen interest from beneath his dark hood.

The last of the guards still fighting reached Gordon and swung his sword in a high arc towards the dwarf's head. Gordon shouldered the table he was using for cover, which budged enough to catch the blade. It refused to pull free so the guard used his mailed fist to slug his short opponent in the face. Gordon staggered backward and tried to bring his other weapon to bear, only to be punched twice more in quick succession, then grabbed by strong arms.

"Ye gotta hit a dwarf harder'n that, mate," Gordon advised with a bloody mouth as he angled his weapon slightly and shot the guard in his foot. The man howled in pain and stooped low to clutch at his bloodied foot, at which point Gordon grabbed him by his tabard and gave him a solid headbutt that sent his opponent reeling.

The noise of the battle had alerted the entire castle to their presence, and Gordon didn't have much time. A quick look around showed him their dire situation, and revealed that Conrad hadn't appeared to provide support. Thinking quickly, Gordon tossed aside his spent weapon and heaved Thunderchief into position on top of the table. He aimed at the heavy door leading to the castle, through which the rest of the castle's defenders were about to emerge.

"Cover!" Gordon roared in warning to his allies in the chamber, who were already covering their ears from the repeated blasts. Aislin watched, cringing in anticipation as Gordon pulled the trigger, aiming not for the door but a column near it. The explosion rocked the floor and shattered the column, sending smoke and shards of stone around the room. With the column gone, part of the stone ceiling above the door collapsed in a deafening avalanche, effectively sealing the chamber from the outside world.

"Most impressive," the robed man said with a thick accent once the noise had subsided. Gordon already had another pair of sidearms ready and pointed both towards him, Osric and another man who was holding back an angry-looking tiger leashed on a chain.

"I also perform at weddings," Gordon growled as he backed towards the cells.

"Very bold, I commend you," the robed man purred, emerging from behind the table, where he moved menacingly towards Gordon.

"I don't know who ye are mate, but if ye want to keep all the blood in yer body, ye'll stay right where ye are," he warned. The robed man answered by raising an arm towards Gordon, who reflexively fired. A flash of light appeared before his opponent as the bullet struck, absorbing the impact entirely and leaving the robed man unharmed.

He responded with a bolt of lightning which shot out from a small wand held in his hand, striking Gordon directly and sending electricity arcing across the cell bars. He screamed in pain and dropped to one knee, momentarily stunned by the blast. With a gesture, Gordon went skidding across the floor and slammed into the stone wall, knocking the wind out of him and sending his last remaining loaded sidearm from his grasp.

"Gordon," Aislin cried in dismay, seeing their plan fall apart before her eyes.

"Ambassador, watch the dwarf," the robed man instructed. The well-dressed nobleman with the huge tiger came forward, stopping within a few yards of Gordon who saw what was before him and held perfectly still. The tiger growled and stared at him, only held back by the chain around its neck and standing between Gordon and his last sidearm.

The old man came closer to the cells and alighted his gaze on Jaz, who looked up at him with a measure of fear and respect.

"Jaz Katan, I presume," he rasped. "I have been very eager to meet you."

"Leave her alone, Viktor," Jaz's grandfather warned as loud his wounds would allow.

"I have no intention of harming the child," the robed man named Viktor explained, "not when I've gone to great lengths to draw her here."

"What?" Jaz whispered in disbelief.

"I was at Aurumgaard during the final battle, controlling the siege golem that led the assault," Viktor rasped, leering down at both girls from within his hood as he spoke. "Imagine my surprise when another golem came to our enemy's defence. Such a remarkable design, though well beyond their capabilities. They must have had outside help, yet little did I know it was one of my old student's family who brought it to life."

"I only learned of your existence a few days ago, but I knew you would try and break your family free. You came here sooner than I anticipated, a testament to your teacher's skill. Do you like my little trap? Anyone aside from myself or King Osric – who I am sure you are acquainted with – using magic to enter this room is shunted straight into this cell."

"You missed someone," Aislin pointed out, glancing at Gordon.

"A curious result, yes," Viktor conceded. "The spell you invoked was to bring three people here, and so three people should have been shut into the cell. I don't like it when my magic doesn't behave as I intend, so I shall have to deliberate why this happened." Aislin risked a quick peek into the next cell out of the corner of her eye, spying Keg's eyes twinkling as he hid among the pile of boxes.

"Don't toy with them, Viktor," Osric called from across the chamber. "Those are the ones who have bested me before."

"Not this time," Viktor rasped in reply.

"One of their allies is a dragon, Viktor," Osric warned. "We know at least one of them has been staying close by in the mountains – it could be here at any moment."

"He was just a minute behind us," Aislin bluffed, picking up on Osric's very real fear. "Any moment now he's going to appear in this room and burn you to cinders."

"We can't let it get the staff, Viktor," Osric warned, gathering up some tools from the table with the clear intention of leaving. If Viktor was cowed by Aislin's lie, he showed no sign of it. Instead, he seemed transfixed by Jaz, or more specifically, something she was wearing. Jaz backed away from the bars as he raised his left hand, inside which was a sort of metal clasp strapped to each finger. A dull hum came from the strange device and the pendant hanging around her neck lifted from her tunic and hovered in the air, held back by its thin chain.

"No," Amadi gasped, lunging for the pendant hanging in mid-air with a sudden burst of strength, but he fell short as the chain snapped and the stone flew into Viktor's grasp.

"Such a curious object," Viktor mused as Aislin and Jaz exchanged a bewildered look.

"It's just a shiny stone," Jaz whispered. "My parents gave it to me."

"And your grandfather to them, I'd wager," Viktor added meaningfully.

"That was supposed to be an innocent gift," Oni called to her father from the other end of the cells. "What have you done?" The dull hum from Viktor's metal-plated palm intensified as he clenched his fist around the stone until a sharp 'crack' could be heard. Thin shards of stone fell to the floor as he opened his hand to reveal a diamond sparkling in the light. Aislin and Jaz gasped at the sight, entranced by the myriad colours dancing in his palm.

"Your family deceived you, child," Viktor said softly. "You were carrying an object of immeasurable value on your journey north, to hide it from those who would seek its power."

"But if it's magic," Jaz asked in a weak voice, "why couldn't I sense it?"

"The stone surrounding it is lead, which magic cannot pierce," Viktor explained as if to a student. "A masterful job Amadi, you have done me proud."

"Go to hell," the fiesty old artificer shot back with a weak voice. "That's where you'll be heading if you use that relic."

"Viktor," Osric implored from nearby.

"Very well, we have what we need," he assured the exiled King, sounding a little disappointed. Sounds of rock being moved from the collapsed doorway could be heard as the guards on the other side started to clear the blocked entrance.

"I think we will leave you to our friends to deal with," Viktor said to everyone in the cells as Osric hurried to his side with a narrow wooden staff in hand. "Enjoy your entertainment, Ambassador."

Osric placed his other hand on Viktor's shoulder and the two of them disappeared in a flash of violet light, leaving Aislin and her companions to their fate.

### 16

### Traitors

Stripped of his weapons, armour and dignity, Max was forced to endure a single night within the dungeon of his own fort, which he spent pacing back and forth pondering the situation. Sleep was impossible anyway, since the neighbouring cells were occupied by prisoners of war and highwaymen caught in the act, and none of them had any love for a Kurhanir officer. He took their unrelenting jeers in his stride, focusing instead on more important events taking place around him.

Simmering anger lay just beneath his stoic surface at the thought men under his command had been the ones to take him down. He knew Sergeant Kopernic was used to operating independently, after having to act without a commander for months during a protracted engagement with the Ramidians, yet Max had no idea he was prepared to go this far.

When the sun rose next morning, the major was quickly escorted to a wagon waiting to transport prisoners to the capital. He remained silent as they bundled him on board, but glared at Kopernic who watched his unceremonious departure from his office above. Max made sure the meaning in his gaze was clear – 'enjoy your promotion, it shall be brief'.

He appeared to be the only passenger this day, forced to sit in a cold, windowless box for the entire journey south. He ended up sleeping through most of it, for he was more exhausted than he cared to admit. When the doors were opened, Max was quickly taken into a holding cell within the main barracks in Ostermacht, a far cleaner and more civilised place than his frontier fort.

Max rapidly devoured the food and water that were brought to him, having had nothing to eat since a bowl of porridge was placed in his cell at first light. It was a thin stew with far too few chunks of meat within and a piece of stale bread on the side. Used to simple fare on the front line, he wasn't one to complain, though he did let his guard down for a few minutes. Only when finished did he notice someone was standing outside his cell.

"Lord General," Max blurted, coming to his feet and offering a salute to General Clancy Graham, a mentor of sorts within the military. The general neither answered nor saluted, and his weathered face bore an expression of grave disappointment.

"Of all the people I've had the honour of serving with all these years," the general intoned, "I never expected it would be you that betrays us."

"I have done nothing wrong," Max responded with uncharacteristic passion. "Sergeant Kopernic and General Wolcott have conspired to remove me from command, based on hearsay and supposition."

"You have a female prisoner held at Fort Nordgrenze, yes?" Clancy asked directly.

"Correct, but -"

"This prisoner was involved with our enemies at Aurumgaard," the general remarked as he flipped through pages held before him, "and was responsible for killing many of our men during the fight, according to your initial report."

"Yes, she is an accomplished archer and made good use of dwarven crossbows," Max conceded.

"The prisoner was given the comfort of your office for the stay, yes?" Clancy pressed.

"She is a woman of noble birth and as such, entitled to better treatment, as an officer and a gentleman should provide."

"Yet after this report, information from her became scarce, then non-existent. And then you had the audacity to bring her here, into the presence of the Grand Duke and Duchess, to dance her around, free as a bird, right beneath our noses," Clancy bellowed, silencing Max for a long, awkward moment. "Blast it all man, you brought her right before me without a word of explanation. What if she brought a knife along with her and used it to gut me like a fish?"

"I... needed a date for the dance," Max lamely responded, hearing his words and cringing at how it sounded.

"You have a perfectly serviceable ex-wife for state events," Clancy muttered, folding the reports and stuffing them into his longcoat. "To give such aid and comfort to an enemy of our nation beggar's belief, Major. Sergeant Kopernic was only doing his duty when he reported the situation, and while General Wolcott may have called for your arrest, I supported his decision. You have acted with poor judgement, Major Strauss, and I looked forward to learning all of the facts during your court martial."

Maximilian couldn't find the words to explain the situation, and his own self-doubt over his feelings for Madelyn clouded his mind.

"I had such high hopes for you, Max," Clancy lamented, dropping the formality. "I saw in you the potential to make it all the way to General, and perhaps even replace me as Lord General one day. I thought you were our chance to end this war with honest opinion, well thought out strategies and such courage as I have rarely seen. Now you may have thrown it all away, for what? A pretty face? My disappointment cannot be expressed in words, sir." The lord general shook his head at the major's inability to defend himself against these accusations, then turned and started heading to the door before something else occurred to him.

"One last thing," Clancy said, pausing in mid-step. "You undertook a visit to a Lydeni city, despite no orders from the general staff telling you to do so. On whose orders did you act?"

"I'm not at liberty to say, sir," Max responded warily, knowing the Grand Duchess didn't send him a secret message so he could blurt out her involvement to anyone who asked. "But you were there when Osric turned Lord Heinrich to ash in full view of the Duke and his guests. You know what that man is capable of."

"All too well I'm afraid," the lord general admitted, appearing disturbed at the memory.

"He and Lord Viktor Grekov were in Lyden, toying with ancient sorcery," Max went on, keeping his voice low to avoid catching the attention of any nearby guards. "I implore you sir, find where they're hiding and stop them before they figure out how to use it."

"Out of respect for your past service, I will consider your request," Clancy offered after a moment's thought. "Understand how it looks to hear you, currently under accusation of treason, trying to shift attention to your sworn nemesis."

"My loyalty has always been, and always will be to Kurhain," Max fervently swore. 'Never forget that."

"I cannot make any promises, Major," Clancy responded gravely. "I will let you know at the hearing next week. Until then, I hope your affairs are in order, for your career depends on them."

"This cannot wait!" Max shouted, pounding his fist against the bars as the lord general headed for the exit, followed by the sound of a heavy gate being shut behind him. Maximilian leaned his forehead against the cold metal, stifling his frustration at the turn of events.

Unable to do anything but wait, he slumped into the simple bed and stared at the ceiling, his mind running through possible scenarios of escape. Max also thought of what had befallen Madelyn who, without his protection, was at the mercy of Sergeant Kopernic and his men.

Although small, Max's cell had few upsides, and one of them was relative peace and quiet. The barracks prison was almost empty and it was a welcome relief from the jeers of other inmates he'd endured at Fort Nordgrenze. So, hours later, when he heard a body falling to the flagstones nearby, Max was instantly alert. The flicker of torchlight outside his cell caught his eye and within moments, a shadowy figure was standing before the gate.

"Yuri, you're a sight for sore eyes," Max said with audible relief at the sight of his lieutenant. "Where have you been?" Yuri wore the mail shirt and tunic of a prison guard, giving Max reason to believe this was not a regular visit.

"We can talk about that later," Yuri responded, keys in hand. "The guard seems to have taken a bit of a tumble so it might be a good time for you to slip out."

"You have a singular knack for understatement, Lieutenant," Max remarked impatiently, noting that Yuri still hadn't unlocked the door.

"Before I open the cell, I must point out that in doing so, you are giving up any chance of clearing your name during the court martial. You'll essentially be admitting to the crime and become a fugitive, ending your career. Once you step outside this prison, there's no going back."

"I think you mean we will become fugitives," Max corrected him, then gave the weighty matter a moment's thought. "I can't sit here while Osric gains that sort of power. My duty is to serve Kurhain, and I can't do that from in this cell. Open the door." Yuri complied immediately, allowing the major his freedom at the cost of his future.

They hurried to the door, past the guard who appeared to be sound asleep in his chair. Yuri held a finger to his lips as they approached the door, checking to make sure the hall was clear before making their way outside. The moon was full on a clear night, making it easy to walk in the darker areas of the compound without drawing undue attention. Most of the men were already in bed, except for those on guard duty who walked the barracks perimeter.

Yuri seemed able to guess their presence before Max could even see them in the dim conditions, guiding them through the buildings to avoid detection until they were finally able to pass through the front gate out onto the frozen street.

"How did you do that?" Maximilian asked once he was sure they were clear.

"A charm that allows me to see in the dark," Yuri whispered in reply, understandably eager to avoid being overheard in a city that feared magic. "I coaxed the guard of your cell and another at the main gate to catch up on their sleep, too. I'm sure he won't miss this uniform until morning."

"I recall you telling me that you couldn't influence people or take over their minds," Max pointed out, watching the shadows of their alleyway for trouble.

"It's hardly 'taking over'," Yuri responded. "I just gave him a little nudge to embrace that which he wanted most."

"I think you're underestimating your effectiveness," Max warned, though there was a hint of admiration in his voice as well. "Where are we going?"

"There's a fancy tavern not far from here where we will meet with someone of importance. Nobody on the street will know who you are, so just walk normally." Max tried to relax and do just that, though he tensed involuntarily whenever they passed anyone.

They ducked into a narrow alleyway in the affluent area of Ostermacht and waited there for a few minutes, until Max noticed two figures approaching in the darkness. Yuri gave Max a reassuring pat on the shoulder and moved forward to greet them, evidently able to see as well in the dark as he'd hinted. One of the newcomers pulled back a dark hood and by the pale moonlight, Max could see it was the fair features of Grand Duchess Frieda Kurnst, in as unlikely a place as you'd ever find a noble lady.

"Your Grace," Max whispered with a slight bow, surprised at her appearance.

"I'm sorry we had to meet under these circumstances Major, and that your career is in jeopardy," she answered. "There isn't much I can do to help you, given that you seem to have dug yourself into that hole. I only have a few minutes before I am missed from my dinner engagement. What did you learn during your time in Decklyn?"

"Lord Viktor and Osric are pooling their knowledge to assemble an ancient weapon of sorcery, ostensibly to end the war with overwhelming force and to allow Osric to take back his throne."

"You think their purpose is something more nefarious?"

"With that sort of power, why answer to the whims of mundane rulers?" Max asked rhetorically. "There would be nothing to stop him taking the country for themselves, should they choose it. Our history takes a dim view of sorcery with good reason, Your Grace. We can win this war without selling our souls."

"I vividly recall the demise of Lord Heinrich," Frieda responded grimly. "I want that twisted man-child Osric out of our country by any means necessary, though I must ask – have you any way to stop him?"

"I believe so, Your Grace," Max answered. "I need to stop by Aussict to see if the weapons I ordered are ready and if so, I need only make my move before they assemble the relic."

"Would they still be at Castle Decklyn?" Frieda inquired of Yuri.

"Viktor prefers to keep his location secret, but there are those in my kith who know where he goes," he answered. "I asked around and learned that he is no longer at Decklyn. Also, while you were away Major, Osric appeared at Fort Nordgrenze and spoke at length with Sergeant Kopernic. I was at first surprised to see them getting along, until I saw Osric hand over a coin pouch, which Kopernic seemed more than willing to take. I overheard only a little of their conversation, which was something about the fort being some sort of 'backup location' for an important project. I presumed it was nothing good."

"They want to use my fort to finish their work," Max growled, his focus narrowing on his growing list of enemies. "Kopernic doesn't realise who he's dealing with. I'd wager good money Osric had something to do with my arrest, too."

"So, you were not consorting with a prisoner of war during our recent dance?" Frieda asked with a raised eyebrow. Max sighed and lowered his gaze, feeling a good measure of shame for his recent choices. "Honestly Max, you paraded her before the nobility of the entire country. Did you think we wouldn't notice? She's lovely, but those looks could quite easily be used to her advantage and you've played right into her hands."

"It's not like that at all," Max protested, though his argument met a raised hand from his ruler's wife.

"I'm not here to render judgement, Major. Regardless of your impropriety and scandalous conduct, the task before you is clear," Frieda continued as she took Max by the hand, moving close enough so they could see each other better in the moonlight.

"This will be the last time we meet, Maximilian. In the eyes of your superiors and indeed, my husband, you will be a traitor, subverted by a foreign agent into acting against our country. Should you survive, you will not be able to return, yet in you I see our last hope of finishing off Osric once and for all. Should you succeed, you will have my undying gratitude, if nothing else. May you not falter, Max. Farewell." With that, she hid her face beneath her hood and moved away, leaving the two soldiers in darkness.

"That had a certain air of finality to it," Yuri remarked.

"We need to get to Aussict as fast as possible," Max responded, ignoring the comment.

"I have two horses standing by, here in the stables," Yuri assured him. They quickly made their way there and before long were cantering along the icy streets towards the highway. A cold wind howled through the trees as the full moon shone in the clear sky above, brightly enough that they could see their way along the snow-crusted ground, allowing their horses to run at a steady clip all the way to Aussict.

Their mounts were breathing hard when they arrived in Aussict, to find the streets deserted except for the night watchmen, who waved them through the city gates after noticing their military uniforms.

"It won't be long before the guards back at Ostermacht notice your absence, if it hasn't happened already," Yuri noted as their horses trotted through the late-night streets.

"It won't matter," Max said dismissively, "Once we have what we need, we'll be riding for Fort Nordgrenze."

They came to a stop not far from Anika's home, along snow-covered streets lit by flickering lanterns and the pale moonlight. At this hour, few windows glowed with warm light within, suggesting the vast majority of the city was asleep and, as it turned out, so was Anika. Max had to knock three times before she finally answered the door, wrapped in a dressing gown.

"Are you mad?" she hissed as the two soldiers stepped inside. "It's after midnight."

"Sorry, this couldn't wait," Max explained as she closed the door. "Did you hear I was arrested last night?"

"No," she answered, staring at him incredulously. "Wait, shouldn't you be in a cell?"

"Yuri made arrangements for my temporary release," he said dryly. "We won't stay long, as I don't want to put you in jeopardy when they come to your door asking questions. I just need weapons, specifically anything you have developed to fight Osric."

"Right, of course," she muttered, shuffling across the cold room to a bench covered in cloth. "I finished this today, then promptly collapsed from the effort. Working with a dragon's tooth isn't something I learned in school, you understand. I went through half a dozen drill bits trying to bore through it.

Curious about what she'd done with the old tooth he'd had mounted on his wall most of his life, Max watched as she unveiled a stand with a large sabre braced across it. The hilt was beautiful and ornate, with inlaid gold and wrapped in the finest leather, yet it was the 'blade' itself that caught the eye. Somehow, through painstaking effort, Anika had managed to fit the hilt onto the back of the dragon's tooth, transforming it into a strange weapon.

"I call it Drachenzahn, obviously," Anika announced, the Kurhanic word for 'dragon's tooth' as Max approached it with baited breath, taking it by the hilt and hefting it in one hand. It was curved and double-edged, with a point so sharp it could puncture iron armour with the same ease as when it was part of the living beast.

"Outstanding," Max murmured as he swung the blade about, noting that it was tip-heavy and not as well balanced as he'd prefer, but not one for complaining. "If this can't hurt Osric, nothing can."

"Well, I did some research in Viktor's old texts and discovered a few other things," Anika added, taking out a dusty old tome and carefully opening it. "He'd come across a process for cold-forging iron, a bizarre process that's supposed to keep the original properties of the metal intact. Sounds like nonsense, right? Turns out that these properties he mentioned are quite potent against magic, provided the iron is of sufficient purity."

"Tell me you've made some sort of breakthrough," Max asked hopefully, to which Anika responded by taking six small pellets of dark metal from a drawer and dropping them into his waiting palm.

"Finding the iron was the hardest part," she explained as he examined the unremarkable bullets. "Anything less than ninety-eight percent purity is destroyed in the process. What you hold there is all I could produce in the time since we last met."

"These will be effective against magic?" Max asked to clarify her intent.

"Just load them up and shoot them like regular bullets," she confirmed. "Where's Gunhilde?"

"Sergeant Kopernic has it," Max muttered. "I intend to reclaim it in short order."

"Should I ask where your little friend is?" Anika inquired with a catch in her voice. Max looked to Yuri who provided the answer.

"They have her locked up in the dungeon at Fort Nordgrenze. I'm sorry, there was nothing I could do about it. Kopernic has effectively taken command, and threatened to throw me in with her for aiding your treason, should I interfere."

"Osric and Viktor apparently have him on a leash," Max remarked grimly. "Nothing good can come from this."

"There's more to this than you think," Anika added, taking a notebook from the bench and opening it to reveal crisp new writing upon it. "While Viktor was working on the siege golem months ago, I took the opportunity to copy text from some of his manuals for my own personal research, without his knowledge of course. While I was researching the process for cold iron forging, I came across some of Viktor's notes. There were some passages that are not in his handwriting and the language is one I was unfamiliar with, though I was able to copy the writing exactly regardless. I showed them to a linguist who works in the city and he instantly recognised it as the language of the Pasantae, the kith who perished with the fall of Zarahus."

"Is Viktor using some of their techniques in his own magic?" Yuri asked. "If so, that would be in violation of the elders of my kith, who forbade any of our magicians from studying their works. I'm not sure how he would even have acquired such texts, given they were all supposed to have been destroyed."

"It goes further than that," Anika added with a look of consternation. "The translation he gave me reads, 'To my apprentice, may these formulas and designs stand you in good stead in your burgeoning career. Keep them from the other kith, for they lack the depth of understanding this magic requires.' It is signed, Ekain Vicario."

The three of them were silent at the mention of this name, for though it was rarely spoken, everyone in Kurhain had heard it before.

"Viktor was apprenticed to the sorcerer who destroyed our homeland of Zarahus," Yuri stated in disbelief. Anika nodded, then turned the pages until they showed diagrams carefully inked onto the page. The pictures were of strange relics and contraptions Max had no clue about, until Anika turned a page and revealed a very familiar looking staff.

"That's what they're assembling," Maximilian blurted, stubbing his finger at the picture.

"This entry details the relic that Ekain used when he inadvertently destroyed half of our ancient homeland," Anika remarked. "Are you certain it's the same?"

"I only saw two of the three pieces shown here, but yes, it looks identical. What is he thinking?"

"Clearly, Viktor thinks he can control this power, where his old master could not," Yuri remarked.

"If he fails, he could destroy the country," Anika breathed. Max deliberated on this in his mind for just a moment before taking the scabbard Anika had made for Drachenzahn and sheathing and attaching the weapon to his belt.

"We need to reach the fort before they put this thing together," he instructed Yuri, who nodded in agreement.

"Wait, I need to know something," Anika said as the two men headed for the door. She pulled Max to one side and asked Yuri to give them a moment.

"I'll ready the horses," he replied, stepping outside and closing the door.

"Can't this wait?" Max asked. "Somehow, in the last twenty-four hours, I've become a fugitive on the way to stop a madman from destroying the country."

"Do you love her?" Anika whispered, revealing the reason for her desire for privacy.

"Who?" Max asked, drawing a look of derision from his ex-wife.

"The pretty young thing you were parading around with recently," she reminded him. Max took a long moment to think before he answered, knowing full well who she had been referring to. Thinking of her face, her bright eyes and her remarkable wit and intelligence made him realise what she had come to mean to him in their few weeks together.

"Yes," he responded quietly, astonished that he'd admitted it aloud.

"Then you've one more reason to hurry," Anika advised with a tired smile. "Make sure she knows how you feel, and take care of her Max. Love in this life is rare enough without stumbling across it twice. Just uh... don't put her in our daughter's old clothes any more, that's just creepy."

"That's all we had that would fit," Max answered with a shrug, feeling a surge of emotion in his chest as he finally admitted to himself how he felt. "She's a few years older than Gunhilde would have been, in case you were wondering."

"Hurry along Max, or you'll lose everything you're fighting for," she hissed, shoving him towards the door. With a look mixed with sorrow and gratitude, Max bid her farewell and hurried out into the growing storm with an energy and conviction he hadn't felt in years.

### 17

### Escape

In a way, the tiger was magnificent and beautiful, but it was also big and, judging by the way it licked its lips at Gordon, very hungry. Aislin's head swivelled around frantically as she looked for some way out of the cell, or something else she could use to her advantage.

She spotted a glint of something shiny through the bars, amongst the piles of strange equipment and books in the next cell. Looking closer, she recognised it as the small magical gem Keg had worn for months, lying only a few feet away from him.

"Ekkhardt Hoffmann, ambassador to the Grand Duchy of Kurhain, at your service," the familiar-looking man holding the tiger on a chain said. "We met briefly at Aurumgaard before the siege. I would say it was a pleasure to see you all again, though I think that would be an overstatement. You have meddled in affairs far beyond your understanding and will now pay the price. Please excuse Jaeger, Master Dwarf. He's rather upset that he's only being fed a snack instead of a proper meal."

"I ne'er get tired o' the short jokes," Gordon grumbled, his eyes fixed on the hungry beast only a few feet away. He only had moments to live, so, seizing on a desperate plan, Aislin turned her attention to Keg, who was still hidden out of sight in the next cell.

"Keg, get the gem," she whispered, trying to draw the cat's attention to the purple jewel. "Remember the gem?" His eyes glittered at her without any sign he understood, though he did glance briefly to where she was pointing.

"It won't work," Jaz moaned, despondent at their predicament. "He's not smart enough to figure out what you're saying."

"He was a pretty smart cat even before you made him better," Aislin whispered back. "Some part of him has to remember the gem. Get the gem Keg, bring it to me!" The sound of the growling tiger grew louder as Hoffmann released the chain, and Jaeger closed in on Gordon, cautiously at first, but with confidence growing by the moment.

Aislin focused on Keg, who was staring at the purple gem, fixated by it as she coaxed him on. Deep down, some part of him had to remember what it had done for him and Aislin watched as he slowly emerged from hiding and approached the gem. Tentatively at first, he ever so slowly reached out for it with one paw and batted it as if it were a mouse, not the result Aislin was hoping for.

Then, he caught the leather strap in his claw and shook it around, pulling it free of the pile where Aislin could see it was tangled up with a bunch of other bracelets.

"That's it," she encouraged him gently, trying to ignore the sounds of Gordon fending off the tiger's playful swipes. When in doubt, Keg always used to defer judgement to Aislin, bringing half-eaten mice and rats to her feet, and his current task was no exception. Aislin's heart fluttered as the cat snatched up the tangle of bracelets in his mouth and bounded over to her.

"Good boy," she crooned, patting him on the head when he dropped the bracelets into her hand. Jaz was astonished but didn't waste time, instead grabbing the tangle of leather straps and gems to try and free the one that would make Keg smart again.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered, unable to sort it out with her hands shaking so badly.

"Just put them all on," Aislin urged, turning to see Hoffmann watching his giant pet torment poor Gordon. Of particular interest were the cell keys hanging from his belt.

"I can't do that, I don't know what half of these things do," Jaz protested. Exasperated and desperate, Aislin took the bundle from her hands, shuffled them around a bit to create an opening in the centre, then pushed them over Keg's head to fit smoothly around his neck.

Instantly, Keg's eyes opened wide as the gem's magic took hold. Little sparks erupted between gems of different colour, startling him for a moment.

"Welcome back," Aislin gushed in relief. "See the keys that man has? Please, get them for me." Keg turned to look at the keys, then noticed the huge tiger clawing at Gordon's legs as he tried to back away further, and apparently came up with a different plan. With his ginger fur fluffed up to make him look bigger, the big tomcat leaped out of the cell and bounded up to the tiger, letting out a series of warning growls and hisses.

Jaeger, sensing a direct challenge, turned his attention from Gordon to the small but fierce house cat, roaring loudly and stalking around him.

"What is he doing?" Jaz cried in alarm while Aislin grasped onto the bars to watch. The two cats snarled at each other, although Keg's warning sounds were far less intimidating than his rivals. Unimpressed by the smaller cat, Jaeger darted forward with alarming power and swiped at Keg, claws out, intending to finish the fight in one go.

Always quick on his feet, Keg astonished onlookers when he moved so fast, he became little more than an orange blur. A fraction of a second later, he was on top of Jaeger, clawing away at the tiger's fur. The two cats then tumbled about, hissing and clawing at each other in a deafening racket, with Keg zipping about, too fast to hit as he fought.

Gordon seized the opportunity to get away from the struggle and lunged for his one remaining weapon. Hoffmann saw this and drew his own sidearm, aiming carefully and shooting Gordon in the arm as he reached for the weapon. He cried out in pain but didn't stop, grasping the firearm with bloodied fingers and turning it to the ambassador.

With one pull of the trigger, Hoffmann staggered backwards, clutching at his side where Gordon's bullet had struck. The tough dwarf struggled to his feet and hurried over, drawing a dagger from his belt and holding it ready to strike as he plucked the key ring from Hoffmann's belt and took his other loaded sidearm from him.

Keg and Jaeger were still battling it out in the middle of the room, so Gordon gave them a wide berth as he staggered over to the cells and quickly unlocked the gates. Once Jaz was freed, she rushed out of the cell and immediately cast the spell to summon Conrad, which once again failed to bring the construct forth.

"Bugger, he must be just out of range," Jaz muttered to herself after doing some quick math in her head. The sounds of men clearing the rubble were becoming louder, indicating they were running out of time. Then, Jaz snapped her fingers and tried her spell again, this time producing a satisfying if unexpected result.

Instead of the towering form of Conrad, it was Boris, the clunky and misshapen construct belonging to the school which appeared in the centre of the room, with a 'thud' and a rush of displaced air.

"Boris, let nobody through that collapsed door," Jaz ordered, and the construct complied immediately. Nearby, Keg swatted Jaeger around with remarkable strength, which surprised the tiger to no end. Outmatched by his diminutive opponent and unused to facing a tough fight, the tiger backed down and slunk into a corner. Keg, sporting a few cuts and some missing fur, settled down right in front of the pampered tiger to watch him carefully, occasionally batting at him with one paw to remind him who was boss.

Gordon opened all the cells to free everyone, allowing Jaz to rush to her parent's side for a family reunion and Aislin went to Carthack, giving him a hug in spite of the cuts and bruises that bloodied his bare chest.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asked as he struggled to his feet.

"Better than Osric once I get hold of him," Carthack rumbled with as anger Aislin had never seen from him. The momentary respite was interrupted by the sound of heavy stones being removed from the collapsed entrance, as more and more soldiers outside helped to clear the wreckage. A crossbow bolt shot through the gap and struck Boris with a resounding 'clang'.

"You had best surrender now, while I am still in a mood to accept," Hoffmann warned with rising confidence in spite of his wound. Carthack glared at him, then reached down and took the sidearm from Gordon and pointed it at the ambassador.

"Where did they go?" Carthack bellowed, looming over Hoffmann who looked up at him in barely disguised terror.

"Do you think you can make me talk before they break through?" he asked in a shaky voice as more bolts shot into the room. Jaz directed Boris to block the hole, which was widening with each passing moment. Carthack seemed to consider this, then moved his arm to aim at Jaeger instead.

"Tell, or I kill," he growled in a voice that dripped with bleak sincerity. Aislin gaped in horror at what he was threatening to do while the wounded tiger looked at him, oblivious to his imminent mortality. Hoffmann was equally aghast at the thought of losing his pet, and quickly broke down.

"Fort Nordgrenze," he blurted, "they went to Fort Nordgrenze to finish assembling the staff. It was close enough that their magic would reach, yet far enough from that blasted dragon to keep it from finding them any time soon."

"We don't have a lot o' time," Gordon reminded everyone as he leaned heavily against one of the cells. Boris took another hit as the soldiers on the other side shot again and again, with the hole almost large enough to allow them entry.

"Right," Jaz responded, taking a moment to sift through some documents on the main workbench and gather up a few bits and pieces. Aislin hurried over to the pile of equipment still sitting in the cell and went through it for anything of noticeable value.

"Carthack, your weapons and armour are here," she called, coaxing the big man away from Hoffmann before anything else could happen. He tossed the sidearm back to Gordon and then grabbed his gear.

"You wouldn't have shot it, would you?" Aislin asked in a hushed voice.

"Of course not," he answered in a low voice, "but he not know that." Aislin smiled tiredly, glad to hear Carthack hadn't compromised his principles after all.

In the centre of the room, Jaz took out her teleporter and changed the burnt-out crystal within for a fresh one, then went to her grandfather's side and helped him sit upright.

"Grandpa, I need your help to get us out of here," she asked gently. The old man was in a terrible state, and seemed barely coherent, yet he reached out and put one hand on her shoulder.

"Okay, everyone gather around," Jaz called as she and Aislin helped Amadi out of the warded cell, and Gordon gathered up his weapons.

"You too, Keg," Aislin said to the feisty tomcat, who reluctantly backed away from the tiger and joined them in the centre of the room. Then she squealed as a crossbow bolt shot through a gap in the blocked passage narrowly missed them.

"Boris, keep them back," Jaz ordered, prompting the construct to shove away soldiers who were on the verge of breaching the gap. They led the way with their weaponry and Boris, who wasn't nearly as well built as Conrad, wasn't holding up well against the assault. Numerous bolts stuck out of his metal chest and the force of multiple impacts had caused one of his arms to stop working. Now with everyone present, Jaz began to incant the spell to get them out of there, causing the crystal in the teleporter to grow brighter and brighter.

Aislin watched as large hammers and swords struck Boris, denting him and cutting off pieces of metal as he punched and span about. She could only clench her teeth and wait for Jaz to finish her spell, at which point they were suddenly enveloped in violet light once again, this time smoothly landing back in the little shack they'd been hiding in for days. Aislin breathed a sigh of relief as Jaz attempted to summon Boris to her, with no result.

"Thank you, Boris," she whispered to the absent construct that had most likely been destroyed holding back the soldiers. With a little sniff of sadness, Jaz cast the spell again to bring Conrad to her, which actually worked this time. He appeared before the front door and stood there impassively, curiously covered in floral wreaths, brightly coloured paint and with a straw hat on his head.

"I guess the locals wanted to brighten him up a bit?" Jaz wondered aloud with a tired smile, then shrugged away her concerns as she, Oni and Aislin immediately set to work caring for the wounded, which more or less included everyone except themselves. Jaz passed a jar of her salve to Aislin and produced another from her satchel, along with several healing draughts to speed their recovery. Of greatest concern was Amadi, who was unconscious and barely breathing.

"He gave everything he had left to get us out of there," Jaz remarked sorrowfully while stroking his forehead with a damp cloth. Oni doted over him, tending to his injuries with practised ease while wiping tears from her eyes.

It took the better part of an hour to stabilise everyone, at which point Jaz, exhausted to the point of collapse, left her mother and Aislin to finish up. Gordon's injuries were extensive and fresh, but a few bandages wrapped over a layer of magic salve seemed to be all that was needed.

"I'll be fine, lass," Gordon assured her.

"You were amazing," she remarked with a smile.

"I did me part, but it was yer furry little mate that got us out o' there," Gordon suggested, looking at Keg who was darting between a chair, table and shelf at incredible speed, as if playing with his new abilities.

"Oh, I should probably take those off now," Jaz mumbled. "I'm not sure how healthy it is to have so many enchantments at once." She heaved herself out of a chair and reached for the bundle of enchanted bracelets around Keg's neck, but he sensed her motives and snarled at her. "I'm not taking the gem of intellect Keg, relax," Jaz protested, yet he resisted further attempts to remove the other gems.

"I think he likes being faster and stronger than a tiger," Aislin remarked with a wan smile.

"I've created a monster," Jaz lamented as Keg glared at her with his tail lashing back and forth.

"Thank you all for rescuing us," Uriel said, his voice still shaking from the experience. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't come to our aid, though I expect nothing good."

"It was a big risk you took, coming for us like that," Oni added, looking pointedly at Jaz. "Did you even fully understand the magic you were using? You're still only a student."

"I had to try," Jaz responded simply. "I couldn't just leave you there."

"What happens to ye now?" Gordon asked of Jaz's parents. "Are ye fugitives from yer government?"

"That group we were taken by must be some kind of fringe organisation," Uriel mused. "They caught me off guard, but now that I'm free I'll use my contacts in the government to find out who they are and have them arrested. Just the fact that they were working with the Kurhanir in a secret plot to make a powerful weapon should be enough to get some heads rolling, metaphorically speaking of course."

"You know as well as I do heads will actually roll when this gets out," Oni pointed out to him.

"You think traitors should get a slap on the wrist?" Uriel snapped.

"I think we need to go through the proper procedures of law to make sure they're made an example of, not behead them like a bunch of savages," Oni shouted back. Aislin cast a wary glance at Jaz, who appeared distressed at their impending argument, but then she did something completely unexpected.

"Oh, will you two grow up!" she shouted, stunning both her mother and father with the outburst. "Honestly, this constant bickering and arguing is just unbearable, and for what? I still have no idea what you are even talking about. If you actually despise each other so much, just separate already and save us all from getting ulcers. I mean really, get some perspective – we have some truly awful people wielding unimaginable power preparing to do who-knows-what with it, and we just don't have time for this nonsense."

The silence in the room was deafening, though none seemed quite as shocked as Jaz, who seemed embarrassed at making a spectacle of herself.

"I'm so sorry," Oni apologised, speaking delicately so as not to startle Jaz again. "It's been a rough few days, as you can imagine, but it's been a rough year for the country too, and we've both been caught up in it. We should never have dragged you into our dispute though sweetie, I promise we'll do better in future."

"Whatever we can do to help, just ask," Uriel added, equally mollified after his daughter's outburst.

"You could start by keeping it down a bit," Amadi croaked, drawing everyone's attention.

"Dad, you're okay," Oni gushed, wiping away a tear of relief as he looked at them with rheumy eyes.

"I'll need a week of rest to recover, but I'm not done for yet," he defiantly declared, then looked to Jaz and took her hand. "You have to stop Viktor from using that staff."

"Me?" Jaz squeaked in protest.

"And your friends of course," he added belatedly. "I'm happy to see you've finally been able to make some, and people of good character at that. I knew you'd try and rescue us, yet I had no idea you'd actually succeed. I'm so proud of you right now that I could burst. Uh, where are we, anyway? I don't recognise this place."

"A safe house, sir," Gordon answered. "Ye and yer family can rest up here if ya please, 'cause we've got a bit of a ways to travel it seems."

"Fort Nordgrenze," Carthack rumbled, joining the dwarf and Aislin at the rickety dining table to look at the map Gordon had spread open on it.

"Right there," Gordon remarked, tapping a finger on a location less than a hundred miles away. "I take it that's the one ye saw in yer vision earlier, Jaz?"

"Yes, the location looks right," she agreed, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "It's too far to walk or even travel on horseback, to say nothing about getting across the border. We'll have to use the last teleport gem to get there promptly and try and figure out how to escape afterward."

"Aye, but not tonight. Now we rest a bit, and figure out what we do about this tomorrow."

"Grandpa, why did you send me away with that powerful gem around my neck?" Jaz asked.

"And why didn't you tell us?" Oni added in exasperation.

"You'd never have agreed to it," Amadi breathed as Aislin carefully placed a fluffy cushion behind his head. "Ever since that Kurhanir ambassador came to Decklyn, they've been sniffing around trying to get their hands on those relics. I knew they'd force me to hand them over sooner or later, and since they're indestructible, I had to get them out of the country quietly."

"So, you sent me on a wild goose chase," Jaz sighed, clearly displeased.

"Kaden was supposed to keep you busy for a year or two until I could figure out a permanent solution, but it wasn't meant to be," Amadi agreed. "You can all blame me for this mess, I should have dumped those relics into the sea years ago."

"Grandpa, why did all those messages I sent to my parents end up in a pile of your stuff at the castle?" Jaz asked Amadi.

"Ah, that," he answered with a modicum of guilt. "I found the first one outside the front door of their house, trying to get inside. When I saw who had written it and more importantly, what you'd written about, I had to hide them in case anyone else found out where you were. The whole point of sending you north was to make you harder to find, girl, and it turned out those messages have landed us in a spot of bother."

"Anyway, I placed a charm on your mother to make the magic think she was at my tower all the time, so all of those messages made their way right to my doorstep. I wish there was something I could have done to help you, but the Kurhanir force was just too large and I'm not exactly a warrior. Fortunately, you had all the allies you needed to see them off."

"I certainly did," Jaz responded with a smile at Aislin and the others.

"Anyway, what's important right now is that you get to Viktor before he figures out how to use that staff, or he'll probably burn half the country to cinders," Amadi advised.

"I'll start workin' on a plan," Gordon agreed while Aislin stoked the embers in the fireplace back to life. "The rest of ye, get some sleep. Tomorrow, we're going to hit that fort with everythin' we've got and we'll need to be at our best if we want half a chance of survivin', let alone walkin' out o' there with Madelyn."

Once the fire was roaring again, Aislin handed out blankets and pillows and made sure everyone was comfortable, then curled up with Keg next to the fireplace.

"You did well today too, mate," she whispered to the cat, who mewed in reply and purred happily as he closed his eyes, content once more.

By the time Aislin awoke next morning, Oni and Uriel had already left to speak with their contacts in the city. Jaz was snoring softly in an overstuff chair, and her grandfather was tottering about examining Conrad up close.

"Ah, you're up," he remarked to Aislin quietly. "I want a quick word with you before you head off. I notice your cat is wearing every single augmentation gem I own right now."

"Yes, sorry about that," Aislin answered, secretly hoping that he wouldn't demand them back again.

"Don't be, we're standing here right now because of him. I've never heard of such magic being used on a simple creature before, and I find it remarkable that they've worked on him as well as any person. I guess my point here is, you can consider them on an extended loan until such time as you don't have need of them anymore, you know, given the circumstances."

"Oh, thank you," Aislin gushed, relieved and thrilled at the same time. She was momentarily distracted by the sound of metal scraping across the floor, and turned to see Carthack, still bruised from his experience in captivity, take up his armour and begin strapping it on. Gordon was at the table checking his firearms were loaded, and he cast a knowing look at Aislin's inquiring gaze.

"I think we have to leave soon," she remarked quietly, both nervous and excited at the prospect of finally reaching Madelyn.

"The sooner the better," Amadi nodded, then tapped Conrad's metal hide. "This construct of hers is quite a feat of magic and engineering. I knew she was gifted but this is on a whole other level. She will, one day, surpass me in skill and imagination I think. Please look after my granddaughter, Aislin, I couldn't bear the thought of losing her."

"We're all making it out of there alive," she assured him firmly. "All of us."

"You are a courageous young woman," Amadi remarked, then turned to Keg and crooked his finger at the sleepy cat. He yawned and stretched, then ambled over and sat before him. Amadi reached for one of the bracelets around the cat's neck, causing Keg to flinch back a step. "Hold still my little friend," Amadi murmured soothingly. "You have a duplicate augmenter around your neck that isn't doing you any good. I think Aislin should have it, don't you?"

This time when he reached for the gem, Keg allowed him to take it, which Amadi then wrapped around Aislin's wrist. She held it up for a closer look, marvelling at the shining green stone fixed in the middle of the leather strap.

"What does it do?" she asked curiously.

"It will protect you from harm, though it does have its limits of course. Keg already has one and similar stones tend to conflict with one another. You may have seen some sparks around his neck when you put them on."

"Thank you," Aislin answered, giving Amadi a hug which the crotchety old man reluctantly accepted.

"Fine fine, get it over with," he advised. Once she finally let him go, he spooned out a thick, hearty soup that had been bubbling over the fire for some time. Jaz finally woke and shuffled to the table to eat, her hair a wild tangled mess. They all ate their fill as Gordon went over the plan for the assault, and his grim tone left no doubt as to what they faced.

"They might have hundreds o' soldiers guarding the place," he warned, pointing at a diagram he'd sketched out during the night. "If it wasn't fer the prospect o' teleportin' in past the walls, we'd probably have no chance."

"Viktor knows you have that capability," Amadi interjected. "He won't risk letting you inside, not after the debacle at Castle Decklyn. That fortress will be warded against magical entry I'm afraid. You'll have to find a more mundane way to break in."

"Did ye have anythin' in mind?" Gordon asked with a raised eyebrow.

"This weapon of yours," the old artificer mentioned, pointing at Thunderchief. "Perhaps you could blast through a wall?"

"It'd take a dozen blasts to get through walls o' that thickness," Gordon grumbled. "We'd need a proper siege cannon to get through quickly, but we don't have time t'make one and we'd need an army to protect it. Nay, we'll appear outside the walls and without somethin' pretty bloody powerful, we're not gettin' inside."

"I have an idea," Jaz suggested, producing a small piece of yellow paper.

"Message paper?" Aislin blurted, brightening as she recognised it.

"Viktor left one on his bench at the castle," Jaz explained. "I was hoping to figure out how to make my own but once again, we've got something more important to use it for."

"Salinder," Aislin said with growing confidence, realising what Jaz was getting at. "I'll send him a message and he'll come to our aid."

"Who is that?" Amadi asked.

"He's a dragon," Aislin explained casually. "He helped us at Aurumgaard and said he'd be around. I'm sure he could help us get into that fort."

"I hope so, because I'd certainly like to examine that paper myself," he lamented. "If this dragon doesn't show up, I might have a way to improve the firepower of your cannon by concentrating the powder. I use this method when creating high-potency herbal concoctions. It's dangerous, but might do the trick."

"I'll take what I can get," Gordon gruffly thanked him.

"A fort with hundreds of soldiers, Osric and his ancient sorcery and Viktor, a corrupt and powerful artificer working for our enemies," Aislin stated clearly for them to take in.

"I'm not sure even Salinder is going to be enough, lass," Gordon advised. Aislin nodded sadly and after a moment's thought, took one of Jaz's ink pens from the table and carefully scrawled out a note pleading for help. She folded it in half and pictured the dragon in her mind, then watched as it folded itself into a dart and zipped out the window.

"It's done," she remarked grimly. "I hope he's not too far away." Carthack, now fully clad in his old iron armour loomed over them, a look of determination on his face.

"If dragon come, is good," he rumbled. "If not, we still get in there, even if we have to take front gate."

"Ye seem pretty motivated there, Carth," Gordon observed.

"Have seen the result of big magic gone bad," came the answer. "This world too pretty to die." His words had a chilling effect on the group, which focused them on the task before them.

### 18

### Return

Maximilian's breath misted in the air before him as he and Yuri crouched in the snow, looking over an expansive field at the looming shape of Fort Nordgrenze, just before dawn. The moon had just dipped below the horizon, leaving only faint light from the sky above to see by, but lanterns along the walls ahead were lit, along with sentries walking the parapets with torches held aloft.

"I never thought I'd have to break into my own fort," Max remarked, assessing his old command as he would any other objective. "They've increased the guard."

"Those reinforcements you wanted finally arrived," Yuri confirmed. "Kopernic was in charge of selecting the men, and I'm certain he's picked the roughest, meanest veterans to complement the ranks."

"That's a mixed blessing," Max murmured. "The newcomers won't recognise us, but once things heat up we'll be vastly outnumbered."

"You weren't planning to fight your way through this, were you sir?"

"My plans involve rescuing Lady Madelyn from prison and killing Osric with this dragon's tooth, or shooting him with cold iron bullets," Max answered in a detached manner. "Viktor may also have to die, if it's necessary to stop him using that staff. You can throw Sergeant Kopernic on that list somewhere too, we'll see how we go for time."

"So that's two powerful sorcerers and the several dozen armed soldiers defending them," Yuri remarked as if checking off a list. "My real concern, is what will we do with the rest of the day?" Max smiled grimly, enjoying his lieutenant's dry humour.

"I had contemplated walking straight through the front gate," Max continued, "but the chances of being recognised are too high. We can't fight our way in, as there are far too many and I'd prefer to avoid unnecessary losses of our own men. This isn't their fight."

"I'm waiting with baited breath to hear your alternative," Yuri prompted dryly.

"The Ramidian officer who built this fortress was paranoid about being trapped inside during a siege. This was not an uncommon trait amongst their generals, and so each of their forts were constructed with a hidden escape tunnel."

"I hadn't heard about this," Yuri remarked curiously.

"We discovered one at Aquilonis two years ago," Max answered, his eyes still carefully observing the fort. "A little research confirmed how common they were among our captured forts and Nordgrenze is no exception. I considered having the passage blocked to prevent Ramidian insurgents making their way in, but decided to have a lot of traps set along the corridor instead."

"You... remember where you set them up, right?"

"You'll be able to see better than I can," Max answered with a faint smile. "I'm sure you'll do fine."

"Lovely," Yuri grumbled in reply. "Before we head in, I have something else to tell you." He removed one ice-crusted glove and reached into a pocket to retrieve three small blue gems Max had seen before.

"You took those from Osric before he left for the Battle of Aurumgaard," he pointed out, recalling Yuri's clever sleight-of-hand.

"I had the elders of the Khoda examine them closely, and they confirmed these are rare sources of power for Osric's magic. Each use of his sorcery weakens them until they become inert. It is highly unlikely he had many of them to begin with, and after so many instances of him teleporting or using his formidable weapons, he must be running low by now, especially since he's missing these three."

"It might be dangerous to try and find out just how much power he has remaining," Maximilian mused. "Nevertheless, it's good to know. I suggest you throw those away, or if we fall he may find them and regain their power."

"As you wish," Yuri answered, tossing the priceless gems into snow and burying them from sight. With that issue settled, Max took a deep breath then started moving towards the south-eastern side of the fort, with his lieutenant following not far behind. Snow crunched underfoot as they covered a few hundred metres through open terrain, interrupted only by a few bushes and trees. The place appeared different at night, and it took him longer to find the tunnel entrance than he'd anticipated.

"A rock?" Yuri remarked as he watched an opening appear when Max pushed on the side of a bulky piece of stone jutting from a rise.

"It's not as easy to find the opening mechanism as you might think. We certainly never knew it was here when we first took the place from the Ramidians. Come on, stop gawking and go through." Yuri sighed and eased himself carefully into the passage, having to duck his head to avoid hitting the ceiling.

Max retrieved a torch from his pack and held it towards Yuri, who lifted one hand and cause a small flame to appear on one fingertip. The torch roared to life and Max quickly shut the secret entrance to prevent anyone outside spotting the light, then held up the light as both men carefully proceeded down the passage.

They brushed cobwebs out of the way as they crept forward, with Max recalling exactly what traps had been placed down here shortly after first taking command. Trip lines and pressure plates connected to loaded firearms were all disabled as they closed in on the fortress, all of which would have ensured a bloody end for any interloper seeking entry. Yuri and Max put these additional weapons into their belts, knowing they'd be needed in the not so distant future.

"Wait," Max ordered, putting his hand on Yuri's shoulder and stopping him in his tracks. Max crouched low and carefully pushed a small piece of bark into a barely visible box nestled within a large crack in the wall. He then pulled the box out, severing the line that would have triggered it and then made sure it was properly disarmed.

"I'm guessing that one would have been a little more energetic than your other traps," Yuri remarked, correctly guessing it was an explosive of considerable size.

"If insurgents made it this far, it would have collapsed the tunnel, yes," Max confirmed. "I'll shortly be putting it to an altogether different use." With the box tucked carefully under his arm, he handed the torch to Yuri and the two men continued along the passage, until the carved stone bricks of Fort Nordgrenze's foundations were visible, forming a tunnel beneath the fort's outer wall. A dozen metres further along, their torch revealed a narrow stairway leading up into the darkness.

"This will be the keep itself," Max noted aloud. "We will emerge on the top floor at the end of the main passage, not far from the commander's office." Yuri nodded yet remained silent, and although appearing stoic as ever, Max remembered how young his loyal lieutenant was and hesitated.

"It's not too late to back out, Yuri," Max pointed out, turning to look down on him in the narrow stairwell. He had planned to say more, but was interrupted by the sound of Yuri drawing his broadsword.

"I am a patriot, Major," he answered firmly. "I would no sooner allow these monsters to unleash hell on our homeland than you."

"If all goes to plan, we'll be the ones unleashing hell," Max growled, angry at the prospect of what Osric and Viktor were preparing to do. Glad to have Yuri by his side and lamenting ever having doubted the man when they first met, they continued ascending the stairs until they reached the top, where a handle mounted to the wall was the only indication of a secret door.

Yuri doused the torch, then Max slowly turned the handle and heaved the door open. It made no noise as it glided on oiled hinges, revealing a dimly lit passage on the upper floors of the fort. Maximilian checked to make sure nobody was around at the moment, then led Yuri through the door, closing it quietly behind them. If he hadn't known what to look for, he'd never have known it was there. It was extremely difficult to spot, appearing just like the rest of the stonework along the corridor except for one small piece of brickwork out of place, behind which was the mechanism to open it.

Max crept along the passage towards the stairs, listening intently for the sounds of people moving about. At this early hour, the bulk of the fort's personnel were just starting to wake up, and the place was quiet but for a faint humming sound coming from somewhere below.

"Sorcery," Max whispered to Yuri, guessing that Viktor and Osric where in the final stages of piecing the staff together.

"Do we attack?" Yuri responded in similarly hushed tones.

"They will have defences set up, and many guards I'm sure. I have a better idea." Sensing their time was limited, he led Yuri back along the passage to his old office, expecting to find it guarded by a single soldier. He wasn't disappointed, and flattened his back against the wall while Yuri, having anticipated this contingency, moved a little closer then moved his hand in a curious pattern.

The guard, who seemed to have been on duty all night, succumbed to Yuri's unspoken suggestion and slumped to the floor, snoring before he hit the ground. Max clapped Yuri on the shoulder as he went past then, quietly drawing Drachenzahn from its sheath, knocked twice on the heavy wooden door.

"Enter," came a muffled reply, prompting Max to boldly open the door and stride right on through. Yuri followed immediately afterward, closing the door behind him as Sergeant Kopernic, half-way through dressing in his uniform for the day, stared back at him.

"I would ask for your surrender," Max addressed him quietly, the point of his dragon-toothed sword held towards the sergeant, "but I suspect you wouldn't accept my offer."

"I wouldn't surrender to Ramidian scum, and I certainly wouldn't surrender to a traitor like you," Kopernic answered in a threatening baritone. Yuri aimed his sidearm at Kopernic too, which didn't seem to faze the veteran soldier. "Go ahead and pull the trigger," he urged Yuri, "you might even hit me at this range."

"And bring everyone in the fort to your door," Max surmised, shaking his head slightly at Yuri to make sure he understood. In the split-second Max's attention relaxed, Kopernic lunged to the desk and picked up his own broadsword, holding it easily in one hand as a sneer made its way across his heavy features.

"I don't know how you escaped Ostermacht or got past our guards, but when I'm done with you, I'll make sure they throw what's left of you into the dungeons with your wench," Kopernic rumbled. Max's instinct was to attack at this provocation, yet he held his nerve a little longer.

"Where is Osric?" he snarled, stepping in closer and tightening his grip on Drachenzahn's hilt.

"Busy, along with that robed mate of his. See, those two aren't the sort of people I'd normally associate with, or even take orders from. But whatever it is they're doing down there, they're working to bring Kurhain victory, and in my book, that puts them one notch above you. Also, they're paying me a lot of money so who am I to complain?"

"He isn't one of us," Max tried to explain. "Osric is a foreign sorcerer relying on magic to make up for his endless list of deficiencies. Whatever power that relic grants him is fleeting, and once it's gone he's nothing but a sadistic homeless wretch who'll be begging for scraps on a street corner."

"Sir, he's delaying us," Yuri hissed as the sun peeked over the horizon at last. Realising time was running out, Max decided to end the conversation right there. Kopernic sensed this as well, and lunged with his blade before Max could act.

The major sidestepped the attack and cracked the big man on the head with the hilt of Drachenzahn, causing him to stumble briefly. Moving faster than Max thought possible, Kopernic whirled around with his blade extended, giving Max hardly any time to parry it with his own. Their swords clashed back and forth as their duel began in earnest, neither of them armoured, relying only on their skill to keep them alive.

A little out of practice from months of working at a desk, Max was taken aback by the man's ferocity in a fight. Kopernic was a hardened veteran well versed in fighting for his life, and as such, his style was brutal and vicious, unafraid to throw in a left-handed fist now and then while his opponent was busy fending off his sword, slugging Max hard not once, but twice before he adapted.

Kopernic kicked a chair in Maximilian's direction which he narrowly avoided, yet now that he had a measure of the man's style, Max whirled around with his blade extended. Expecting the big soldier to lunge in behind the chair to catch him by surprise, Drachenzahn gashed Kopernic along his right shoulder and Max followed it through with a punch of his own, catching Kopernic on his square jaw and staggering him backwards over the desk.

The noise of the fight was almost as loud as if a firearm had gone off, so the sound of people trying to get through the door was not a surprise. Yuri had locked it when they came through and now threw his weight against it, when the guards outside began slamming against the thick wood from the outside.

Max had his own troubles to deal with, for in spite of several wounds, Kopernic wasn't showing any sign of slowing down. Max came at him with an overhead swing from Drachenzahn, attempting to finish him off, but the big man continued to prove how quick he could be on his feet as he rolled out of the way and kicked Max in the side of his chest.

As he struggled to regain his footing, Kopernic was upon him and wrapped his huge arms around Max, pinning both arms by his side and threatening to crush him with the man's immense strength. Try as he might, Max could not shake him off as the two of them thrashed around the office, laying waste to chairs, tables and stacks of papers.

The sound of a firearm going off brought the struggle to an end as Kopernic was struck by a carefully aimed shot from Yuri, who was still holding back the tide at the office door. Max stumbled out of Kopernic's grasp and gasped for breath, then noticed a flash of metal from the corner of his eye and rolled over the floor, narrowly avoiding Kopernic's broadsword which struck the stone wall instead. Finding his balance once more, Max lunged forward and swung Drachenzahn in a powerful arc, meeting the sergeant's own blade mid-way.

In one powerful stroke, the ordinary iron blade was cut clean in, clattering to the floor and leaving the big soldier all but unarmed. The door to the office burst inwards at that moment, sending Yuri sprawling to the floor as three soldiers came to their commander's defence.

Max didn't have time for long goodbyes so in the moment after sundering Kopernic's blade, he ran the man through with his own and kicked his crumpled body to the floor. Turning to meet the oncoming soldiers, Maximilian saw Yuri kicked in the stomach as he tried to rise, so he quickly drew his sidearm and shot the man who was about to slay Yuri.

The thunderous report echoed around the stone chamber, momentarily deafening those within and giving Yuri and Max time to regroup. Facing lesser men, he swept Drachenzahn back and forth, slashing and cutting at the soldiers who were simply unable to stand against him. Yuri stabbed one from behind while they were focused on Max, and suddenly the two men found themselves standing in a room with only dying soldiers in their wake. Max noticed the picture of Gunhilde he'd left in this room, the last thing he had to remind him of her, was on the floor, torn and smashed during the fighting.

The sound of an alert from the sentries along the walls woke the rest of the fortress, and Max knew their time was short. Quickly scanning the room, he found Gunhilde sheathed on a coat rack and took it back.

"Find some rope and tie it to something sturdy," Max ordered Yuri as he loaded the weapon with regular bullets.

"More coming up the stairs," Yuri warned just as Max was finishing up. "I don't see how we're getting down to the dungeons to free Lady Madelyn, let alone stop Viktor."

"We're not taking the stairs," Maximilian answered, taking out the bomb he'd taken from the secret passage and sheathing his sword. On his order, the two men took position on either side of the door and with sidearms at the ready, waited for the right moment to act.

"Should we warn them off instead of shooting them?" Yuri whispered. One of the men outside shouted before Max could answer.

"Is that you, Major?" he asked. "Sorry we missed you in the carriage that evening. It's bloody hard to shoot these things while belting along the road like that. But don't worry, we've followed your training and we won't miss this time." The sound of heavy booted feet on the flagstones grew louder as they approached, and Max glanced at Yuri, replying to his question with a dark look and a shake of his head.

As one, they stepped through the door and fired their weapons, with Max firing off three shots for Yuri's two. The soldiers shot back almost as soon as the two officers came through the door, but their aim was wide and they never had a chance to fire a second round. With a cloud of smoke obscuring the passageway, Max sheathed his sidearm and set the bomb down on the floor halfway along the corridor near their bodies. A fuse line extended from the volatile box, which he strung out to its full length.

"If you would do the honours, Lieutenant," Maximilian suggested, prompting Yuri to reach down and ignite the fuse with a tiny flicker of magical fire. The fuse fizzled into life and both men ran back to the office to take cover behind the heavy desk which Yuri had tied a rope to.

"Are you sure it's not going to collapse the entire floor?" Yuri asked as they reloaded their firearms, Max using the cold iron bullets Anika had provided.

"Moderately certain, yes," he answered. "If my guess is right, it should drop several floors of stone right on top of the central storage chamber. It's almost identical to the place they had set up in Castle Decklyn, ideal for their experiments. Let's see if they can survive twenty tons of rock falling on their heads."

Anything Yuri said in response was drowned out by the tremendous explosion of the bomb, which shook the entire fortress and was immediately followed by an avalanche of stone and debris.

By the time the dust cleared, a coughing Max and Yuri, covered in dirt, emerged from the office to find a huge, gaping hole before them leading down into the very heart of the keep. Max tossed the coiled end of the rope down the gaping hole and took a firm hold of it as he rappelled past two floors, and landed on a huge pile of stone bricks forming a small hill in the centre of the destruction, hopefully on top of his enemies.

Once Yuri had joined him down below, they carefully made their way through the rubble to the intact floor below and then along a corridor towards the stairs leading down to the cells. They kept an eye out for signs of movement from the surrounding area, which was choked with smoke and dust from the collapse, yet saw no signs of life.

"Could they have been some other part of the keep?" Yuri asked as they paused at the stairwell. Max thought about it for a moment, torn between verifying the death of Osric and rescuing Madelyn. His mind was made up when cries of help emerged from down below, from the prisoners who may have been caught in part of the collapse.

"We free her, then finish what we started," Max answered firmly. They immediately headed down the stairs to find a scene of chaos amidst the smoke. Part of the ceiling here had collapsed from the explosion, injuring some of the prisoners and leaving gaping holes in the cells. A few prisoners had escaped and were trying to free others, while more were struggling to make their way to the stairs.

Max and Yuri pushed their way through the throng, checking each cell for signs of Madelyn. The bulk of the dungeon was a cramped space, not designed for long-term holding of prisoners, but there were a few cells that were larger at the far end. The crowd thinned as the two officers made their way to the back, then turned a corner to reveal the large cells beyond, with Osric standing there, a hand raised towards them.

The sudden appearance of his rival caused Max to hesitate for a split second. He stared at the sorcerous weapon pointed at him, the one that burned Lord Heinrich to death in moments, and saw the sadistic smirk on Osric's face. Then, something impacted Max from the side, just as a flash of green light erupted from the alien device strapped to Osric's forearm.

The chamber was lit with a blinding green light for the better part of a second, and an intense heat scorched Max's side. He roared in pain and fell to the ground with smoke rising from the left side of his body, yet he was still alive.

As the light subsided, he looked back to see what had saved his life and saw a statue of smouldering ash in the shape of Yuri, standing where Max had been only a heartbeat earlier. The ash crumbled away, leaving a pile of unrecognisable remains.

"Loyal to the last," Osric remarked as Maximilian stared at the remains of his lieutenant, his loyal assistant and indeed, his friend. "I was never able to invoke such feeling from my subordinates, no matter how I chastised them," Osric continued, speaking casually while Max lay there, refusing to scream in pain to rob his enemy of the satisfaction.

"You are a monster," he managed to say through gritted teeth, both of his hands holding with white-knuckled strength the weapons that could slay Osric.

"Perhaps, but I am also a King," he mused, then crouched to stare malevolently into Max's eyes. "You should have stayed in prison where I could not reach you, Major. To return here in pursuit of me was folly, and another of your friends as paid with their life. Did you really think you could kill me? At what price will you achieve this goal? I know you are 'selfless' and 'noble'," he mocked, "but how are you going to live with the loss of both your lieutenant and the women you obviously care for?"

"Yes, I'm afraid you're too late," Osric smirked when Max's face twisted in fury. "My schedule has been extremely busy of late, what with the recovery of this remarkable artefact and all, yet I still found the time to interrogate the prisoner you failed to extract any information from. Sergeant Kopernic has proven very helpful ever since we first met. Granted, as foreign royalty he was very suspicious of me at first, but I know his kind very well and he agreed to aid my efforts to help both our realms."

"The man has his own kind of loyalty you know, where he puts his country above his feelings, as any man should. I think I'll make him the head of my personal security when we're done here. Not that I'll need it, mind you. Nobody is going to stop me when I hold the 'Apocalypse Staff' in my hands. That's the name Viktor is calling it apparently. A little dramatic for my taste but it certainly seems to be an accurate title."

"He's dead," Max grunted back, struggling to stay conscious with half of his body burned so badly. Only sheer stubbornness kept him from blacking out completely.

"No, Viktor is alive and well, I assure you," Osric answered. "It would take more than dropping a building on top of him to finish that one off. He's over a hundred years old now and so steeped in magic, I'm probably the only one in the country who could kill the man."

"Not him, Kopernic," Max snarled, stealing the joy from Osric's face.

"That's a shame, he had such potential," came the fallen king's reply. "It seems your former allies are dropping like flies, Major. You can add Lady Madelyn to the list – after she screamed out all the information I could want, I tossed her broken body aside like so much garbage." An inarticulate cry erupted from Max's mouth at the thought of Madelyn being murdered by this despicable man.

"Still fighting, after all you've lost," Osric mused, standing up and dusting off his fine coat. "You are strong Major, I'll give you that. Perhaps you still have the strength to crawl to your lady's side before you join her in death. I was going to finish you off myself – and believe me, that would be immensely satisfying - but I have a kingdom to reclaim. Farewell, Major Strauss, we will not meet again."

Max's head slumped to the ground as Osric walked away, a faint laugh heard as he disappeared into the darkness. Max's heart was pounding so hard he thought it would escape his chest, and he could barely move without blinding agony shooting along his left side, yet he managed to crawl ever so slowly to Yuri's remains.

"I'm so sorry," he muttered, knowing the man was gone and couldn't hear him, yet saying words he had to say before darkness descended. A sound of an explosion somewhere in the fort shook the room, followed by another shortly thereafter. Curious what was happened, he heard a third explosion that sounded like a battering ram smashing through the outer wall. Max desperately wanted to stand and locate Madelyn somewhere in the darkness, to be with her in his final moments, but he could hold off the darkness no longer. As consciousness faded away, he felt his weapons pulled from his grasp.

### 19

### Assault

Aislin's head reeled as the violet light engulfed them, obscuring the little shack they'd stayed in overnight then vanishing a heartbeat later, to reveal she and her companions were now standing on a snow-covered field at the edge of a copse of trees as dawn was breaking. They'd had a restless night preparing for the assault, knowing how little time they had before Osric and Viktor assembled the relic staff and tried to use it, not to mention rescuing Madelyn from her plight.

"Well, we're stuck here now," Jaz sighed as she plucked the cracked and smoking crystal from her teleporter gadget and tossed it into the snow, then glanced around to take in their surroundings. "This is roughly where I aimed for. I hope grandpa is okay, it couldn't have been easy to give us so much of his strength just to get us here."

"I think he's gettin' better with practice," Gordon grunted, rubbing his painful shoulder before noticing the others had seen it. "Don't worry about me, I told ye I'll be fine. I think we all coulda used another night to mend afore tryin' to storm a castle, but it is what it is."

"I know what you mean," Jaz sighed, rubbing the sleep from her dark-rimmed eyes. "I spent a few hours on the crystal ball looking for a weak spot to break through the fortress walls."

"And?" Gordon prompted.

"Success, of a sort," she answered without certainty. "It looks like the builders skimped on the interior brickwork on the keep, where it backs onto the eastern wall. It's our best shot."

"But we have to get close to wall, yes?" Carthack pointed out, receiving a confirming nod from Jaz. The big man's eyes lingered at something in the distance, and when Aislin turned, she saw the walled fort only a few hundred yards away in the morning mists, the top of its towers catching the light of the rising sun.

"It's big," Aislin remarked dourly.

"I've seen bigger," Gordon responded with a shrug, reaching into a pouch to retrieve a small bundle of cloth. "Are ye sure this is gonna work?" he asked of Jaz as he poured a foul-smelling green powder down Thunderchief's gullet. The weapon was tightly wrapped in leather to keep it free of moisture in the damp conditions.

"We concentrated the powder as much as we could," she explained. "It'll pack a wallop, so be ready for it. But to answer your question, no, I've no idea if this is going to work," she added, looking at Conrad standing impassively in the snow a few yards away. More of the strange markings Aislin had seen back at Mawgan were visible now, snaking over Conrad's left leg and over part of his torso, giving him an increasingly alien appearance.

"There's only one way to find out," Gordon remarked, loading a solid ball of metal into the gaping pipe, then hefting Thunderchief and eyeing the distant stone walls.

"We try now while fog covers us," Carthack advised. "If we can't get through, we pull back."

"Uh, any sign o' yer dragon friend?" Gordon asked Aislin, who had been on the lookout ever since arriving.

"He might have been further away than I'd hoped," she answered nervously. "We need to give him more time."

"We don't have any, Ace," Jaz warned. "If we don't stop the staff being assembled, not even Salinder will be strong enough to face them." Aislin bit her lip and nodded in understanding. Although she knew something they didn't, she had to agree that without any idea if the dragon was going to show up, they could wait no longer.

With a glance to check everyone was ready, Gordon led them at a steady jog across the field, with Fort Nordgrenze looming larger by the minute. Aislin watched the skies, hoping to see or hear dragon wings sooner rather than later. While she looked around, the sound of a thunderous explosion from within the fort rumbled over the landscape, causing each of them to freeze in their tracks.

"Was that us?" Carthack asked in confusion.

"I didn't even pull the trigger yet," Gordon reminded him, "but somethin's happenin' in there that might work to our advantage."

"It might be Viktor using that staff," Jaz warned. They glanced at each other in consternation then, with a renewed sense of urgency, ran as fast as they could for the fortress wall. Aislin was puffing hard by the time they were within twenty yards, where they stopped and fell to the snow. Gordon crouched and quickly unwrapped Thunderchief, then brought it to bear on the wall just ahead.

Aislin covered Keg's ears and, squinting in anticipation, wasn't disappointed when Gordon fired the weapon. A deafening eruption of green flame shot forth, the recoil rocking the dwarf backwards. Smoke and debris enveloped the area as the shot struck the wall where two stones joined, obscuring the results of the blast.

"Hit it again!" Jaz ordered, peering through the cloud with her omnigoggles to see the results. Gordon poured more of the strange powder into the weapon as shouts of alarm rose from inside the wall. Whatever was going on there was enough of a distraction to keep them busy, giving Gordon time to shoot at the wall one more time.

A second blast came from the mighty weapon and this time, there was a definite 'crack' in the air when it struck. Gordon was knocked onto his back and Jaz didn't hesitate to point Conrad to the area of the impact.

"Conrad, charge through that wall!" she cried, and the hulking metal construct lumbered forward at a run, shaking the earth with each step. He disappeared into the smoke, then came an earthshaking impact as he struck the wall, though nobody could see what was happening. Only the cries of alarm from within indicated they'd been successful, followed by the distinctive roar of Conrad's fiery gaze as he scorched the fort's defenders.

Carthack said nothing, instead choosing to simply follow the construct into the smoke and join the fight, with Keg poised and ready to strike from his broad shoulders. Aislin and Jaz helped Gordon back on his feet as he shook the snow out of his beard. Thunderchief lay in the snow next to him, the weapon cracked and smoking from the force of the blasts.

"I think you understated how powerful that was gonna be," he muttered, shaking his head to clear the ringing.

"We needed it strong enough to breach a stone wall," Jaz pointed out, pulling a couple of small bombs out of her coat. "Come on, those three can't take on the fort by themselves." Aislin's heart raced as she followed her friends into the smoke, where the effects of the blast were clearly visible. Great stone bricks had been cracked by Thunderchief's final shot, then rent asunder as Conrad used his considerable mass to break through.

Gordon drew a pair of sidearms as he headed through the breach, with the two girls following closely. Aislin drew Sliver from its sheath and darted to one side as soon as she entered the fort, looking to stay out of any direct fighting, for which she was simply untrained.

The hallway they'd breached was long and narrow, though it was difficult to see or hear through the smoke and noise as the fort's defenders clashed with Conrad and Carthack. There wasn't enough space for the escardi warrior to wield his massive sword effectively, so he resorted to stabbing his opponents and holding them at bay while Conrad bashed his way through with little finesse. Regardless of the confined space, they were unstoppable as they hewed through the ranks of the defenders.

From the other direction, other soldiers were approaching cautiously with long firearms aimed towards the trouble spot. Large chunks of broken stone from Conrad's entrance had piled along the hall, which Gordon and the girls used for cover as shots rang out. Gordon kept under cover as much as he could, reaching over the top to shoot back when he dared while Aislin covered her ears.

Jaz had better results when she tossed small bombs of black powder over the top of the stones, detonating in and around the enemy's position. After helping Carthack with the initial assault, Keg scurried to Aislin's side and held close, looking for another opportunity to assist in the noisy chaos of the fight. He peeked around the side of the stones and saw his chance, darting out of sight while the battle continued.

His screech cut through the noise, co-incidentally at the same time the enemy shooters stopped firing and started screaming. Gordon peered over the top and saw they were preoccupied with a furry orange blur tearing through their ranks, so he drew two sidearms and charged around the corner, taking down a soldier with each shot from his weapons. The sounds of fighting died down as Aislin's companions took control of the situation and regrouped near the breach.

"That's it?" Gordon asked as he quickly reloaded his array of sidearms. "I was expecting a few hundred, to be honest."

"Wait, do you hear that?" Aislin interrupted, falling silent as they listened carefully. It was a low, faint hum that seemed to vibrate throughout the fort's stone walls, causing tiny motes of dust to dance across the surface of the floor.

"Viktor," Jaz breathed, covering her eyes with the omnigoggles and adjusting their setting as she glanced around. "It's coming from the centre of the fort, the only place I couldn't see through the crystal ball. This way." With Jaz pointing the way, Carthack led them along the corridor, expecting more resistance yet finding none. The distant sound of shouted orders indicated the soldiers were busy elsewhere, and when Jaz turned a corner into a large chamber, they found where the noises were coming from.

The centre of the structure had collapsed, quite possibly from an explosion, judging from the faint aroma of black powder residue. Aislin looked up through a massive hole blasted through two upper levels, ending in a huge pile of stone in the centre of the large chamber. Above, soldiers were moving around the gaping chasm, but not to help anyone caught in the fall or attack Aislin and her companions. Their concerns seemed to be about something taking place outside.

The vibration and hum were much more noticeable here, and before Aislin could say anything, some of the stone on the pile began to shift and fall, until a man in dusty black robes levitated clear of the destruction, holding a staff crackling with lightning in his hands.

Gordon reacted instantly, aiming with both sidearms and firing at him. As before, the bullets struck a field of power around the ancient artificer with little effect.

"You've got to hit a demigod harder than that, 'mate'," Viktor mocked, a twist on a phrase Gordon had uttered when they broke into Castle Decklyn.

"Oh no, we're too late," Jaz moaned as Viktor looked down on them with eyes glittering from the depths of his hood.

"You certainly are," came a familiar voice from behind them. Aislin whirled around and saw Osric standing in the doorway they'd just come through, his glowing sword of power in one hand and a murderous look in his eyes. Carthack instantly moved towards him but froze in place when Osric raised his deadly weapon's tip to the escardi's chest. "I would have been content to let you go free, until the time comes when I roll through Aielund and force everyone there to kneel before me. Instead, I can think of no better test for the Apocalypse Staff than to shred the lot of you."

"You will be the first enemies of Kurhain to fall to its might," Viktor added, about to say more when he was interrupted by a distinctive roar from somewhere in the skies above. The sound sent a chill down Aislin's spine, as it must have done for everyone else present, for every single person looked upwards as a shadow obscured the morning light streaming in from above.

"Salinder has a knack for dramatic timing," Gordon nervously chuckled at Aislin, who didn't share his enthusiasm.

"I didn't send that message to Salinder," she answered quietly as a deathly silence fell over the fort, broken only by the flap of huge wings. "You were right, Jaz – he was too small to deal with Osric and Viktor should they put the staff together." Aislin's companions stared at her in disbelief as something immense landed on the fort's roof, accompanied by the screams of men outside running for their lives.

"What have you done?" Osric cried as dust and small rocks, shaken loose from the ceiling cascaded over the chamber. Stones crumbled and fell as the roof was torn open by a dragon's claw the size of Carthack, tumbling down upon Viktor, who's protective shield was tested by the pummelling rock. Revealed in the new opening to the sky was the unmistakable appearance of Leviachon the Destroyer, bearing the scars of a thousand battles, the largest, meanest dragon to fly the skies and enemy of all civilisation.

Knock, knock came the sound of his dark and terrible voice within Aislin's mind, no doubt something everyone present could hear. His leering snout protruded into the top of the chamber, and his glowing red eyes fixated on the staff in Viktor's hands. A little bird told me I'd find a certain staff here, and there it is, as promised. You are not worthy of such power. Relinquish it at once, and I'll make your deaths swift and painless.

Aislin knew she had taken a risk bringing Leviachon here, and that the others would never have allowed it, had she told them in advance. She had also hoped to avoid attacking the fort altogether, and definitely hadn't planned on being inside when he arrived. Both Viktor and Osric had been taken aback at the dragon's sudden appearance, yet the ancient artificer quickly regained his composure, even if Osric did not.

"Your kind is on the brink of extinction, worm," Viktor shouted in defiance. "With this weapon, I shall finish the job our ancestors started." At the very moment he finished speaking, Leviachon roared and dove in through the hole he'd created with his massive jaw wide, intending to swallow Viktor whole. Aislin's heart leaped into her throat at the sight of the dragon plunging towards them with his teeth bared, her feet frozen in place even though she knew they were all in danger.

Fearless Carthack was the only one other than Viktor to keep his head. He turned and spread his arms wide, shoving everyone back through the door as Leviachon struck Viktor's magical shield. The dragon's tremendous weight caused stone to explode from the mound in all directions, showering them in chunks of rock that would have caused serious injury if not protected by Carthack's armoured body.

Osric, frozen to the spot, was knocked clear with the rest of them as stone rained down, followed by the dragon's tail as it swept around the room, knocking down supports already damaged from the initial explosion. The crash of stone tumbling down was deafening and Aislin felt a sharp pain across her chest as piles of rock pinned her to the floor beneath Carthack's bulky frame, knocking Sliver from her grasp.

Through the cloud of dust and debris, she saw a flash of lightning illuminate the chamber and heard the dragon's agonised roar as he was struck with a raw blast of power from Viktor. Despite having Leviachon practically fall right on top of him, the cunning old magician appeared above the carnage in a flash of violet light and then pointed the staff at the dragon's hide.

A bright lance of green light seared his hide as Viktor swept it back and forth like a twenty-foot long sword, opening terrible wounds along Leviachon's flank. The dragon responded by inhaling deeply and breathing a torrent of fire that covered half the room, blasting upwards into the morning sky. The heat washed over Aislin and her companions, who were still struggling to regain their footing.

"Everyone get away," Gordon ordered as the fight escalated behind them. Only Conrad remained within the room, half-buried by stone and unconcerned about anything happening around him until Jaz gave him an order.

"Conrad, attack Osric," she gasped through the choking atmosphere. The construct immediately complied, moving stone aside as his ruby eyes bored into Osric's. The exiled king finally snapped back to reality and raised his hand to shoot a blast of green energy at Conrad, but nothing happened. As Gordon escorted Jaz out of the way, Osric was forced to use his energy sword against the lumbering construct which moved towards him fearlessly.

Trying to focus through the sounds of Viktor and the dragon battling only a dozen yards away, Aislin struggled to shove the unconscious Carthack pinning her down but she just wasn't strong enough.

"I can't move," she called, though the others were already out of sight at this point. Keg, completely grey from all the dirt covering him, hurried to her side but there was little else he could do other than stick with her as Osric and Conrad fought right beside them.

Conrad was as subtle as a hammer tied to a brick, which would have been effective against lesser opponents, but Osric was far from that. His sword left glowing hot welts across Conrad's metal body with each swing of his sword, yet this didn't slow the construct down. He landed a solid hit on Osric, only to meet the same mystical armour that had kept him alive all this time.

Aislin was dismayed, having quietly hoped Conrad would finish him off, yet it became clear Osric was going to win this fight. He even grew confident enough to sneer at Aislin, and began moving around to close in on her position. Keg saw him moving in and hissed at him threateningly, though Osric seemed to ignore this.

"Get him, Keg," Aislin ordered, which the angry tomcat was eager to follow. He darted in and grabbed hold of Osric's leg, thrashing about with sharp claws bolstered by the magical gems he wore around his collar. Keg was unable to damage him through Osric's powerful protection, yet the hefty cat added enough weight to the exiled king's leg that he stumbled when he should have dodged.

Conrad, showing a little more finesse than Aislin thought him capable of, grabbed Osric with both hands and with one mighty heave, threw him against the nearby wall, sending Keg flying in the opposite direction. Already weakened from the loss of supports, the impact sent Osric right through the crumbling stone into the room beyond. Continuing to follow his last orders, Conrad stomped through the gap, searching for his target.

"Carthack, wake up," Aislin begged, poking him as best she could to bring him around. Her heart fluttered with hope when his eyes cracked open a little and gazed at her in a way that suggested he wasn't entirely coherent. "You have to move the stone," she told him slowly so he would understand. With a line of blood trickling down the side of his head, he shifted his arms to either side of her and, ignoring the bellowing dragon and the ancient magician battling only yards away, started to lift.

Nothing happened at first, and Aislin feared they would both perish here. Turning her head as far as she could, she gasped at just how much stone was on Carthack's back.

"Come on, you can do it," she urged him, even though she thought it was impossible. With dull, glazed eyes, the huge man's face flushed red as he heaved with all of his might. Astonishingly, the stone began to shift and with each passing moment, he raised it up just a little bit higher. With the pressure on her removed, Aislin was able to squeeze her way clear of the rubble, and as soon as she turned around to help him, Carthack gave her a faint smile and let go, crashing back to the floor and toppling more stone over him.

"No, you do not get to give up," she cried, tugging at his hand to prod him into action. It was no use, however, for he didn't budge and Aislin didn't have the strength to free him. She staggered backwards as Leviachon unleashed magic of his own, causing loose stone around the chamber to fly into the air and converge on Viktor with deadly speed, encasing him in rock.

The fight paused for a long, tense moment, until the stones moved again, this time forming a giant fist of rock on the end of Viktor's free hand. He then dove towards the dragon and struck him so hard the giant monster was thrown against the wall, cracking the keep open like a smashed box and revealing the full light of day.

The sound of dozens of firearms echoed around the fort as the defenders opened fire on the dragon, though it was unclear to Aislin if they were having any effect. Leviachon responded by breathing fire over the entire fortress grounds, resulting in a series of minor explosions as black powder detonated throughout the area. She couldn't worry any more about that now however, for she had a mission to accomplish.

"Gordon?" she called into the ruins around her. "Jaz?" There was no reply, and with Carthack unconscious, Keg gone and Sliver buried under piles of rock, she had to go on alone.

Leaving the terrible battle behind her, Aislin searched through the dusty halls of what remained of the keep and found the stairs down to the dungeons, from which injured men – some of them in rags – were emerging. They took one look at the fight and fled the scene quickly, though their appearance made it difficult for Aislin to get past.

They ignored her completely as she descended, finding open cells along the hallway where those men had apparently been kept. More were passing her by as others freed them, jostling her about in the near-darkness as they sought their freedom.

"Madelyn?" she called through the chaos, holding her arm aloft so her magical light could shine within each cell as she passed. There was no sign of her at all, and Aislin was becoming frantic as she kept looking. Was she already dead? Had she been moved from here overnight? In spite of the damage done to the fort, the area around the cells was almost completely free of casualties, save for one poor man who appeared to have half his body burned, lying next to a pile of ash.

Aislin knew her time was short, for the entire fort was likely to be destroyed and she wanted all of her friends clear before she left. Her thoughts turned out to be a premonition, for part of the ceiling collapsed as one of the dragon's claws came through. Aislin squealed and dove to one side, looking up through the new window to see Leviachon, bloodied and terribly wounded, facing off against Viktor who was surrounded by a nimbus of power which expanded further and further by the moment.

Unsure who was going to win this fight, Aislin had her answer a heartbeat later when Leviachon lunged straight into the aura of deadly power surrounding Viktor and bit down on both him and the staff in one giant mouthful.

Viktor's cry could be heard all the way down where Aislin watched in horror as the dragon, even as his scales were flayed off by the magical might of the staff, bit them in half. As the staff was broken its inner power was unleashed, engulfing the dragon in a storm of darkness and electricity that sent it flying backwards through the air to impact the fort's outer wall with earthshaking force.

As the dust settled, a deathly silence fell over the fortress. Shaking so hard she could barely stand, Aislin staggered along, determined to check the entire dungeon before leaving. She could only imagine what Madelyn had been through during her time here and wanted to get her safe. Before she reached the last cells in the block, Aislin gasped as a rough hand grabbed her by the arm.

"Found you," Osric snarled at her. His fine clothing was torn and ruined, and he appeared bruised and battered in spite of his protective magic. "You've ruined my plans for the last time, girl. You and I are going on a little trip, and then I'm going to make you regret ever meeting me." Expecting him to whisk her away with magic, he instead pulled her along the collapsing passage with surprising strength, made all the worse by the weakness of fear Aislin felt take over her.

### 20

### Mortality

Aislin screamed, kicked and thrashed about with all of her strength, but she couldn't shake the grip of the ruthless mad king who practically dragged her along the dungeons of Fort Nordgrenze.

"Are you proud of yourself?" Osric asked her as he searched for the way out. "In your efforts to stop me, you may have killed all of your friends."

"What have you done with Madelyn?" Aislin asked with a shaking voice, unwilling to contemplate the death of her companions.

"I had my fun and then tossed her away," Osric answered with a sneer. "Just like what I'm going to do with you, once we're clear of this mess."

"Why don't you just teleport us away then? Why not simply leave the fight when you had the chance?"

"Never you mind," he snarled back, giving up all pretence of civility and royalty, revealing the man's true nature. Just like the dragon above, he was a monster through and through. Aislin wished she had Sliver here right now so he could finish him off once and for all, but she was helpless and at his mercy.

They turned a corner and saw a way up through the rubble Leviachon had left behind when he crashed through the ground above. The ground was uneven, but Osric seemed eager to be free of the fort as fast as possible. The light streaming in from the clear, bright day was blinding, and both Aislin and Osric had to shield their eyes after walking through the dark.

Squinting against the light, she thought she could see the silhouette of someone up ahead, blocking their way. Osric didn't seem concerned, as he still held the glowing-edged sword of light in his other hand. As they made their way up the fallen stone, Aislin noticed figure was approaching them and as it stepped into the darkness, she could see the figure holding a curving sword in one hand and a sidearm in the other.

A deafening shot rang out from the weapon, lighting up the figure enough for Aislin to see it was Madelyn, wearing the remains of a tattered blue dress and sporting bruises and bloodied wounds over her body. All of this paled into insignificance by the mask of pure rage distorting her pale beauty as she bore down on them.

The shot went wide, striking stone, but a second shot struck him in the leg. Aislin thought he was still almost impervious to damage, yet as close as she was, she could see the bullet pass through his magical shield and go right into his leg. He screamed in pain and Aislin pulled free of his grasp, stumbling out of his way as another shot came from the firearm, striking Osric in the shoulder.

Gasping in pain, he struggled to keep his footing on the uneven terrain, yet Madelyn wasn't feeling remotely charitable. Gravely wounded herself, she cried out in rage and swung her strange sword at him, meeting his own magical blade which he managed to raise in time. The two weapons sparked and crackled against each other but Madelyn's sword did not shatter or break.

No words were spoken between them as the two duelled. For whatever reason, Osric had lost his magical speed and strength, along with his ability to teleport and shoot burning green fire, leaving him only slightly better off than Madelyn. The two of them swept their swords back and forth with little finesse, two people trained in fencing who were too wounded and full of anger to do more than savagely cut each other with their vicious weapons.

Madelyn proved to be a little quicker on her feet than her opponent, able to dodge the attacks she couldn't parry and riposte when Osric thought he had her on the back foot. Both of them grunted and heaved with each swing, testing the limits of their endurance, leaving Aislin to wonder what she would do if Madelyn lost.

Her sword, which appeared to be made out of a large tooth, was clearly able to cut through Osric's protections as if they weren't there. More than once he narrowly avoided a killing blow, leaving a trail of blood on his fair skin. For all of her courage however, Madelyn was exhausted and in spite of her best efforts, her swings were slowing.

Wrapped up in the deadly dance, Aislin jumped when she felt something brush against her leg. Glancing down she felt a measure of relief to see Keg, covered in layers of dirt and dust, with Sliver held in his jaws.

"I could kiss you," Aislin whispered as she took her cherished weapon from his mouth, feeling her confidence rise. Grasping the hilt tightly, she rose to her feet and waited for the right time to strike. Madelyn was consumed with the battle, throwing everything she had into trying to cut Osric down, which kept him too busy to notice her until Sliver stabbed him in the side.

He bellowed in pain and swung around, the edge of his enchanted blade coming in fast. Aislin quickly ducked, yet wasn't quite fast enough to avoid feeling its unearthly edge gash her across the side of her head. She felt a sensation of warmth from the bracelet Amadi had given her and knew its magic had kept her alive, though the vision in her right eye was obscured by her own blood running down her face.

Osric staggered up the mound of rocks, searching for higher ground from which to keep both of the girls at bay. His sword strokes were simply to keep them back while he tried to recover his composure, but he was visibly slowing now. Madelyn tried to get inside the arc of his weapon but she was slowing too, resulting in a nasty cut along her arm that sent her spinning to the rocky ground.

With the pressure off him, Osric backed up a little further, clutching his side with one hand and holding the tip of his weapon towards Aislin with the other. His hands were shaking and a cold sweat beaded his brow, a sure sign he was just about done in. Aislin wasn't prepared to let him regain the upper hand, but she was wary of his deadly sword. Keg came to her side, his fur standing on end as he snarled and spat at his adversary, aware he couldn't harm the man.

"You can't beat me," Osric spat, followed by a hollow chuckle that made him seem unhinged. "I will get away again, and again, until I find a way to reclaim my realm and burn your homeland to the ground."

"You're not getting away this time," Aislin retorted, holding Sliver steady as she looked for an opportunity to strike. "You're done." Osric continued to slowly back away, rising up the rubble until he stood on part of the collapsed wall, a decent height above the ground beyond. Seizing her chance, Aislin lashed out with her dagger, catching his sword once, then again as she put a terrible choice upon him – be stabbed, or risk falling to his death.

To Aislin's dismay, he chose the latter. With a look on his face of sheer desperation, he fell away from the broken parapet. Aislin rushed forward to watch him fall, and saw him land in the snow far below. Her hopes of a quick demise for him were dashed when he picked himself up and started hobbling away.

"No!" Madelyn screamed in frustration as she saw their bitter foe getting away yet again, with the two girls too injured and exhausted to pursue. While Madelyn furiously tried to reload the sidearm with shaking hands, in the silence after the fall of the dragon Aislin heard the faint shout of someone's voice, and turned around to see Jaz, on the other side of the ruined keep, making her way towards the girls with Conrad stomping along beside her. Jaz was waving her arms and shouting something, yet she was too far away to be heard.

Madelyn slumped next to Aislin, staring out at the sight of Osric getting away from them, when a shadow obscured the sun above his position. Osric noticed this too, stopping in his tracks and staring up in horror as Leviachon the Destroyer dove from the sky and landed right on top of him with a sickening 'thud'. When the cloud of snow he kicked up finally cleared, Aislin watched in morbid fascination as the dragon appeared to be trying to fling Osric's remains from the end of his claw.

"Well, that's a hell of a way to go," Madelyn remarked between heavy breaths. Aislin let out a little squeal and raised her weapon triumphantly, only to have her feeling of victory cut short when Leviachon's head turned towards her.

The fight with Viktor had left him hideously wounded, with bone showing on his snout and jaw from when the staff had exploded in his mouth. His visage was set in a permanent toothy grin from the missing flesh, yet the look in his one remaining eye indicated he wasn't done quite yet.

I do not leave my enemies alive, came his terrible voice within their minds, sending a stab of fear through Aislin's spine as the immense dragon turned and started limping in their direction.

"Back away!" Jaz called, puffing hard as she finally joined the two girls on top of the broken wall. At her command, Conrad, who was missing a few pieces of metal from his fight with Osric, stomped into position next to Aislin, who did as she was told and helped Madelyn back away from the wall.

"Conrad, attack the dragon," Jaz defiantly ordered. The construct immediately stepped off the edge of the wall and plummeted to the earth, landing with an audible impact on two legs before marching fearlessly to the dragon, who roared a challenge and spread his wings wide.

"He can't beat Leviachon," Aislin hissed at Jaz. "He's going to get melted."

"Don't worry," Jaz confided as the three girls lay down flat and watched carefully from the relative safety of the wall. "Remember those markings I said I carved on him? I was lying – they just appeared there on their own."

"I thought so," Aislin remarked, still fearful yet suspecting Jaz had one last a trick up her sleeve.

"The book I found in grandpa's lab talked about the Dracari, a strange offshoot of the elven people. It's their language that's appearing on Conrad's body, they originally built him and their sigils have magical properties that protect him against fire."

"Even dragon fire?" Aislin asked.

"Specifically, yes, because the only reason I could think of for this, is that the Dracari built Conrad to fight dragons." As soon as she finished speaking, Leviachon inhaled deeply and breathed a firestorm right over Conrad. The girls ducked low as the heat washed over them, even at this distance, then Aislin dared to peek over the top to see Conrad still standing in a pool of melted snow, right in front of the dragon. With one mighty punch, he slugged Leviachon right in the snout in a blow that would have shattered stone.

He roared in pain as the blow added to his extensive list of injuries. Although Conrad was relatively tiny, his mighty iron fists would never tire and the dragon must have realised this, for he spread his wings and leaped into the air, turning tail and flying awkwardly north to lick his wounds. Aislin bowed her head and closed her eyes, relieved and spent at the same time.

"You came for me," Madelyn quietly said moments later, prompting Aislin to turn and regard her bruised and bloodied face. In spite of her trials, Madelyn's blue eyes shone brightly and the faint hint of a smile appeared. "Took you long enough," she added with a hint of sarcasm. Aislin didn't reply, choosing instead to simply give her a tired hug, which said all that needed saying.

When they finally separated, Madelyn turned to Jaz, who seemed nervous yet opened her arms as well. Instead of giving her a hug, Maddie reached for Jaz's satchel and pulled out the jar of salve.

"This is no time for hugs," Madelyn said dismissively. Moaning slightly as she got back on her feet, she made her way down the pile of rubble as fast as she could, with an embarrassed Jaz and curious Aislin following closely behind. Madelyn stopped when she reached the burned man Aislin had seen earlier, and began applying the salve to his extensive wounds.

"Glad I made a second jar," Jaz remarked, taking out another lot of salve and applying it to Aislin's injuries, then tentatively dabbing some onto Madelyn's.

"Hey, that stings," she protested while still focusing on the injured man. Jaz apologised, reminding Aislin that the two of them had never really gotten along. After using an entire jar on the injured man, he finally stirred, his eyes opening to see Madelyn crouched over him. His grey eyes looked into hers with what Aislin immediately recognised as genuine feeling, and she nudged Jaz to quietly point this out.

"Hello Max," Madelyn softly greeted him.

"I thought you were dead", Max answered with a hoarse voice. "Serves me right for believing anything Osric said."

"Obviously," Madelyn gently scoffed. "Did you come here to rescue me all on your own?" Max's look of affection faded to one of grief, and he shook his head, glancing at the pile of ash next to him in sorrow.

"Poor Yuri," Madelyn gasped as they spared a moment of silence for whoever it was that had been hit with Osric's terrible weapon. Madelyn helped Max sit upright and the two embraced for what seemed like a long time.

"You're trembling," Max remarked once they'd finished. "We need to get you into some warm clothes."

"You as well," she responded, picking at the remains of what appeared to be a Kurhanir uniform covering half his body.

"I don't understand any of this," Jaz confessed. "Isn't this man one of our enemies?"

"Not this one," Madelyn answered, making a point by planting a kiss firmly on Max's mouth. Aislin found this fascinating and couldn't take her eyes away, though she was blushing by the time they were done.

"Max, I want to introduce Aislin Ballard and Jaz Katan, two of my companions who also came to save me." Max turned to regard them with an approving gaze and with Madelyn's help, he stood up and bowed.

"It is a genuine pleasure to meet the young lady whom Osric hated so much," he said in a very formal manner to Aislin. "Speaking of him, where is he now?"

"A dragon landed on him," Aislin explained simply, which drew a satisfied look from the Kurhanir officer.

"I would have preferred to shoot him myself, but a win is a win," he said with a shrug. Aislin thought he was quite handsome, and he clearly had more scruples than any of the other Kurhanir men she'd met.

From down the corridor, Gordon and Carthack approached, with the dwarf doing what he could to help the big man stay upright. The side of his head was caked in blood and he seemed unsteady on his feet. Jaz immediately rushed to his aid, and once he'd descended to her altitude she went to work on his injury.

"Madelyn, you're okay... sort of," Gordon grunted when he laid eyes on her. "Should I be worried about this one?"

"I am no longer a soldier in the Kurhanir army," Max answered for her. Gordon nodded then spied Aislin on the other side of them. With a look of relief, he hurried over and took her in a crushing hug.

"I lost ye in the chaos," he muttered, sounding more upset than she'd ever seen him. "I could nay find ye and thought the worst."

"You should know I'm tougher than that by now," she told him, astonished to see his cheeks glistening with tears.

"Well, we've a lot to talk about, but this ain't the place to do it," he grunted, wiping the moisture from his eyes. "Most o' the soldiers fled when the dragon arrived, but they might return now that it's gone. We need to leave."

Wise words well spoken, a familiar voice spoke into their minds. Aislin's eyes lit up at the sound of Salinder, and she glanced around looking for the small golden dragon. She spotted him peering into the chamber from atop the fallen wall and was about to greet him when Max, moving with astonishing speed, grabbed the heavy looking-sidearm Madelyn had used and pointing it at the dragon.

"No, wait!" Aislin cried, moving to stand in front of the weapon to obstruct Max's aim.

"He's an ally," Madelyn added, placing both hands on the gleaming firearm and gently forcing him to lower it.

"That creature fits the description of the one that attacked Kurhanir soldiers at Aurumgaard," Max growled. Aislin feared they would come to blows, when Max's expression softened somewhat. "Yet that battle was started in service to Osric's twisted ambition, and I cannot blame any of you for defending yourselves. Today I fought men who pledged their allegiance to Osric all too easily, my own countrymen willing to sell us out for money and power. Kurhain is not what it once was, or perhaps it never was truly noble to begin with. I don't know any more."

If it helps, I don't start fights - I finish them, Salinder offered, slowly moving into view. And I will always fight to protect the weak and innocent.

"Then you may be unique among your kind, for my people have known dragons only as monsters to be vanquished."

I can understand that. Perhaps we can work together to change things for the better, but we can discuss that another time.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here," Aislin remarked. "How did you know where to find us?"

I have been skirmishing with Leviachon for weeks and was surprised when he suddenly flew further south than I'd ever seen. I followed at a discreet distance and caught the last part of the fight. You are both brave and reckless for luring him here, though given the result, I cannot argue with your decision.

"Would have been nice if you'd shown up sooner," Carthack pointed out, holding a folded piece of cloth to the side of his head.

It would have been nice if you'd invited me, Salinder responded evenly. Osric is an old enemy of mine and I would have gladly assisted in his demise. Apparently, you did just fine without me.

"Says you," Madelyn grumbled, picking at the remains of her dress and shivering. When she spoke, it was with heavy feeling, revealing some of the torment she had endured. "I want to leave this place right away and never return."

I think I can manage to teleport you all to a place of your choosing, Salinder offered hesitantly.

"The western side of Decklyn," Jaz requested brightly. "I know just the place to rest up."

"It better not be that bloody shack," Gordon muttered.

"No, we're going home," Jaz answered firmly. "And if there's any trouble there from the authorities, I'm going to set Conrad on them." With that, she closed her eyes for a moment and summoned the construct to her side.

"Home," Aislin repeated dreamily, as she realised her mission here had been accomplished and a wave of homesickness swept over her. Salinder cautiously entered the chamber under Maximilian's suspicious gaze and after concentrating fiercely for a minute, they were all enveloped in violet light and deposited just outside the Katan family home.

* * *

Salinder managed to get them safely there, though he was wearied from the effort. Jaz briefly quizzed him about how to teleport around without the use of high-quality gemstones to channel energy, and his answer was simply 'be a dragon'.

Uriel and Oni were surprised at their sudden appearance, but rallied to aid them in any way they could. Wary of any further trouble, Jaz had Conrad stand guard at the front door, which proved to be effective at keeping away neighbours as well as prying eyes.

Over the next two days, Aislin and her companions were treated to fine food and comfortable beds while they recuperated from their efforts. Jaz's grandfather stopped by to see them, and was relieved to hear of their success in stopping Viktor. Mirembe, assisted by Aislin, cooked a huge meal for everyone that evening and they all sat around the dining table to enjoy it.

Aislin even invited Salinder, though the Katans baulked at trying to fit even a small dragon at their table. He was very understanding of the issue and contented himself with curling up as small as he could near the fire, sharing the space with Keg. Once the meal was done, Max raised a glass of wine in the air and proposed a toast.

"To the fall of tyrants, and to the memory of those who fell fighting them," he solemnly spoke, with everyone else quietly raising their glasses in kind. Aislin had never known Lieutenant Yuri Vetrov, but from the stories Max told while they sat at the table, he was a good man who had given everything to stop Osric. Though he tried to hide it, Max was clearly upset at the loss of his loyal aid and friend.

Once they were done they retired to the lounge area for the evening. Amadi and Salinder spoke quietly together, the old artificer taking the opportunity to speak with a real dragon about magic and its varied applications.

As for their other problems, Mister Katan had apparently sorted out any issues he had after being abducted by some in his own government, sparking a major furore that led to a number of officials being dismissed from service, and many more being formally charged.

"And before you ask, my wife and I have had a good long talk about our problems, and we're not breaking up any time soon," Uriel explained to Jaz, who's large brown eyes reflected her silent gratitude. "I'm not sure where we lost our way, but we're determined to stick together and figure it all out." The two of them held hands while seated on one of their couches and exchanged a fond smile, still a little chilly with each other, yet obviously progress had been made.

He went on to say that any chance of closer relations with Kurhain was scuttled, something which brought no tears to Max's eye. The Kurhanir officer explained that he had bent too many rules regarding Madelyn's captivity, leaving him an exile from his own country, though he took great comfort in the demise of both Viktor and Osric and the destruction of the relic staff.

"Because he loves me," Madelyn added cheekily, drawing a bashful grin from Max. The two of them had become inseparable, and her whole demeanour had changed from the time they'd all spent together during the siege of Aurumgaard.

"What will you do now?" Aislin asked while they sat in the lounge room near the roaring fireplace, their injuries and spirits both on the mend.

"There is no place for me in Kurhain, save that of a cell," Max responded grimly. His head had largely escaped the burns that covered half of his body, except for the upper part of his neck, just below his left ear. The healing salve had reduced the severity of his wounds, yet he would carry visible scars from the assault for the rest of his life. "I will seek paid work abroad, perhaps visiting the Kingdom of Clydach. Those swamplands are an excellent place to lay low for a while."

"We've no money or equipment to our name, but we'll make do," Madelyn added, placing a hand onto his leg in support.

"You're staying together?" Carthack rumbled, appearing somewhat amused.

"There's nothing for me back in Aielund," she answered sorrowfully, "and Kurhain's reputation will precede Max there and in Lyden. Best we get out of the way for now." Carthack nodded in understanding, then leaned over and picked up a sack of coins from his equipment piled behind his small couch and tossed it to her.

"We get this from people of Mawgan," he explained to her confused look. "Ancient treasure from their deep forest. Is wedding present," he added with a wink, drawing a look of unabashed gratitude from Madelyn. Aislin had wondered if there was anything left of the feelings between the two and from this gesture, Carthack clearly had no hard feelings towards either of them.

"Well now, let's not get ahead of ourselves," Max protested weakly, slightly perturbed by the look of hunger in Madelyn's eyes. "What about the rest of you? Are you remaining here for some time or moving on?"

"I return home, to escardi lands," Carthack answered. "Job done, time to tell my people about our great deeds."

"Me too," Gordon agreed, looking content and well-groomed sitting in an overstuffed chair. "I'm itchin' to know how me cousin Jock is fairin', and tell him our weapons were a big hit down south." This last part was spoken with bitterness, which he went on to explain. "I don't know what I'm gonna do, to be honest. I was so excited about bein' able to create a new weapon and makin' some money, I never stopped to think if I should. The cat's outta the bag now though – Kurhain is full o' the things. No offence," he added for Keg's benefit, though the cat was still sprawled flat in front of the fireplace and barely acknowledged the comment.

"If not you, then someone else would have," Max pointed out, taking his sidearm from its sheath and tossing it to him. "It was just a matter of time. My ex-wife is an expert at this sort of thing, and I've no doubt she would have invented them herself, given enough time. In fact, she took your idea and ran with it." Gordon examined the three-chambered firearm with obvious admiration.

"It's absolutely beautiful," he conceded. "You've given me somethin' to think about, if nothin' else mate. I'll talk with Jock and see if we can find a way t'move forward with our plans, in a way that doesn't make me uncomfortable."

"And what of you?" Madelyn asked of Aislin, who had remained quiet for most of the evening. "Back home to the inn I suppose?"

"Yes," she answered softly, "I'm really eager to see my dad again and tell him all about what's happened. He's probably worried sick about me." What she didn't say is that the thought of leaving her new friends was just as painful as the prospect of never seeing her father again.

"I'm going to miss you so much, Ace," Jaz said, on the verge of tears. "You've become like a sister to me. If only there was some way you could stay a while." Then her eyes brightened, a sure sign she'd had a moment of inspiration. "You can stay a while, if my mother and father would allow you to. You could come with me to school!" Aislin was hesitant to reply, suddenly caught between two possible futures.

"You'd be more than welcome to stay with us, Aislin," Oni offered, further adding to Aislin's inner conflict. "After all you've done for us, we'd be happy to cover to cost of your tuition."

"I'm sure we could slot you in to one of the classes," Amadi added, giving Aislin an approving smile.

"I need to see my father," she finally answered. "Family has to come first, am I right?"

"You are at that," Gordon chuckled in reply, though Jaz was sad at the answer. "It's a long journey back north, though I'm wonderin' if maybe someone could give us a ride?" he added, glancing at Salinder who was watching from nearby.

You want me to take you all the way back to Bracksford? That's hundreds of miles away!

"Please?" Aislin begged. "I once knew a brave man who would never turn down someone in need." Salinder practically sputtered at the remark to his previous existence, but finally calmed down.

Fine, he grumbled. We could be there in a few minutes, so if you want to leave now, we can. Aislin squealed and practically hugged him to death on the spot. They said their farewells to Jaz's family, then Gordon and Carthack gathered around the small dragon for the first leg of their journey home. Aislin took a little longer to join them, lingering with Jaz a while longer.

"We'll see each other again, I promise," Aislin assured her, though Jaz was obviously upset at her leaving. "Soon."

"You'd better," she sobbed, giving her a hug before finally composing herself. Reluctantly, Aislin joined the other two with Keg and Salinder, and let him work his magic. It took several jumps to reach the distant town of Bracksford, and when they finally appeared just outside of the inn, Salinder collapsed from the effort.

"Poor bugger," Gordon offered in understanding, having difficulty standing himself after the brief flurry of magical travel. Aislin steadied herself and glanced around at her home town, with the lanterns hanging along the main street glowing softly, accompanied by a similar glow of warmth from the windows of the surrounding buildings. It was just as she remembered it, before all of this began months ago.

She hugged Salinder with deep gratitude, knowing he needed to rest, then with trepidation and an overwhelming sense of relief, she stepped through the doors of the Bracksfordshire Arms Inn to find the place packed with travellers, merchants and locals, all enjoying the hospitality. The noise and bustle of the inn washed old memories over her, and Aislin recalled a dark time when she thought she'd never see it again.

In front of the crowd was a familiar shape, a big man grown slightly overweight with time and too much good eating, an old tavern brawler and merchant guard who retired to start a new life. Time seemed to stop when he turned around and saw his daughter, standing in the doorway, tears of joy streaming down her face. Tom Ballard gaped in disbelief, clutching at his chest as Aislin bounced into the room and wrapped her arms around her father at last.

Aislin Ballard was finally home.

###  Epilogue

After sleeping in her own bed for the first time in months, Aislin spent most of the next day telling everyone about her adventures. The inn's common room was packed with locals, and some new faces from the local akoran tribes who were visiting at the time, all listening to her tales. It was a strange and beautiful thing to see former enemies getting along so well.

Aislin had never had many friends in town, yet the children around her age took the morning off school to hear about the events that had played out hundreds of miles away, events which started with their very own little town. It was rather disconcerting for Aislin to have so many people hanging on her every word, especially sandy-haired little Toby, who always had stars in his eyes for her. Yet, with her father sitting by her side, she found the strength to get through it.

Towards the end of her story, Tom pulled out a pile of little yellow papers, the messages Aislin had sent him while stuck in Aurumgaard.

"I treasured every single one of these," he told her, tearing up as he smoothed creases from the little bits of paper in his trembling hands. "I took comfort in the fact you were safe and happy, but you weren't."

"I'm sorry I lied," Aislin whispered with eyes like saucers. "I couldn't bear the thought of you knowing I was trapped there, and there was nothing you could do about it. But I'm okay now, and Osric will never hurt anyone again, I promise."

"I believe you," he said, fighting back tears once more.

Gordon learned that Jock hadn't stayed around long, returning to his home at Stonegaard in the north to continue running his business, so the dwarven engineer made ready to leave after enjoying the show and backing up Aislin's account of events.

"You kept her safe and brought her back to me," Tom Ballard thanked him as he shouldered his pack. "I don't know if I can ever pay you back for that."

"Don't even think about it mate," Gordon dismissed with a wave of his hand. "It was me honour to look after yer kin, and me pleasure to see her grow into the brave young woman she is today."

"Grow is right, you must have shot up half a dozen inches, chook," Tom remarked, ruffling Aislin's hair affectionately.

"Goodbye, Mister MacTavish," Aislin said sadly as the crowd dispersed, not wanting him to go.

"You're a young lady now lass, ye can call me Gordon," he chuckled, giving her an affectionate hug, only slightly marred by all the firearms he had strapped to his body. "When ye get right down to it, Feydwiir isn't a huge place, especially if yer cuttin' corners with magic and such. I'm sure we'll meet again." With a confident wink, the plodded off down the road towards the wagon belonging to a merchant who was giving him a ride north.

Along the way, he bumped into Carthack who shook his hand and bent down to pat Gordon on the back, before heading for Aislin.

"I hate goodbyes," she confided to her father.

"I'm right there with you, Ace," he mumbled back as Carthack walked up to him and shook his hand.

"Aislin very strong now," he informed the man in his rumbling baritone. "Defeat many enemies. You must be proud."

"I'm livin' the dream," he answered dryly, still upset Aislin had been in so much peril, a fact which was lost on Carthack.

"I return to escardi lands now, meet with new wife."

"Wait, what?" Tom interrupted.

"My mother will arrange marriage to strong escardi woman," Carthack explained. "We make powerful children, they too fight monsters one day."

"Well, yes, that's one future for them I suppose," Tom conceded. Aislin couldn't stop her eyes brimming over as she looked up at his towering form, her arms wide in an offered hug.

"You hug many people today," he remarked. "Aren't you all hugged-out yet?"

"That's not possible," she assured him, drawing an affectionate grin and a crushing embrace from the big man. "Take care of yourself, Carthack. You've become like a brother to me." Carthack's smile turned sombre at these words, and for the first time she could recall seeing, his eyes misted up with emotion.

"You like little sister to me too," he responded with a sniff. "You take care of family, okay? Escardi lands only a few days from here. I be close if you need help."

"I'll be sure to stay in touch," Aislin promised, finally releasing him. He bent down to ruffle Keg's fur as the cat purred loudly and rubbed against his leg, and then with nothing else to say, Carthack smiled at them and lumbered down the eastern road, with the locals staring at him as he passed.

The sounds of children laughing and talking could be heard as they headed into the schoolroom not far away, a noise which swamped Aislin with pangs of regret. Her father noticed her mood and guided her to a bench outside the front of the inn.

"Listen, I've been speaking with Vicki," he began. "When you were gone, we had to hire someone else to take your spot, and she's doing really well. There's nothing stopping you from going to school now, if that's what you want." Aislin's eyes lit up at the prospect, and without the need to stay on at the inn, an even better idea occurred to her.

"Say, would you be okay if I went to school in Lyden? Jaz's parents said it would be okay to stay with them, and I'd learn all sorts of things."

"All the way down south?" Tom echoed, sounding dubious. "But you only just got home..." He put up a mild argument against the idea, but in the end, he couldn't resist Aislin's charms.

"Well, okay, but I want you to write to me, and visit when you can," he firmly instructed.

"I promise, of course!" Aislin assured him, immediately rushing to get her equipment, which she hadn't even had time to unpack yet. With Keg hot on her heels, she hurried to the inn's stables where Salinder had been resting away from the curiosity of the locals.

You want to go back? he exclaimed, sounding less than thrilled at the prospect. Her beaming expression gave him no room to say no, so within a few minutes the tired dragon was stretching his wings out the front of the inn, with a crowd of onlookers gathered around. Aislin gave Tom, Vicki and Kirsty her fond farewells, much to the astonishment of people just getting used to having her around again.

"Not again," Tom sighed as Aislin and Keg jumped on Salinder's back and launched into the sky before promptly vanishing in a flash of violet light.

* * *

"Don't sleep all day," Aislin advised Keg, who had burrowed into her bed while she dressed for her first day of school, a few days after arriving back in Decklyn. The weather was still very cold so she dressed warmly in clothing provided by the Katans, and with Jaz waiting excitedly just outside her room, she put on her coat, strapped Sliver underneath and rushed to the door. She stopped when she reached it though, hesitating for a moment of thought.

On an impulse, she unstrapped Sliver's sheath and held it in her hands, recalling the reason she had to keep it close to her, before all of this began. She fondly caressed the leather and the wonderful workmanship of the handle, then made a decision and put it back in the top drawer of her dresser and push it shut, before hurrying to catch up to Jaz with a contended smile on her face.

About the Author

Stephen L. Nowland resides in Frankston, Australia, where he spends his time creating stories, games and art to astound and entertain.

http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/sln

Further information on this novel and upcoming titles in the Ballard Chronicles can be found at his website, and you can follow his progress on Facebook and Twitter.

https://www.facebook.com/stephenlnowland

https://twitter.com/stephennowland

www.stephenlnowland.com.au

The Ballard Trilogy

In the Wake of War

The Fortress of Gold

Upon the Ashes of Empire

Other titles by the same author

The Aielund Saga

Soldiers of Winter

Soldiers of Avarice

Soldiers of the Crown

Soldiers of Ruin

Soldiers of Legend

Soldiers of Tyranny

Soldiers of the Heavens

