 
## "Runner"

### A Legend from the Great Wood

### By A. Foster aka Annette Foster

"This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental."

In memory of Betty, Jeff the Bear and friends now gone.

Table of Contents

Chapter One - Strangers Meet

Chapter Two - Mayir, A Small Town

Chapter Three - Unexpected

Chapter Four - Brother

Chapter Five - The Wind

Chapter Six - Reunited

Chapter Seven - Drellin and Freedom

Chapter Eight - Signs of the Civilized

Chapter Nine - Money

Chapter Ten - Rescue

Chapter Eleven - Unleashed

Chapter Twelve-Bracar

Chapter Thirteen-Brother of My Father

Chapter Fourteen-Norban is Safe

Chapter Fifteen-The Tall Hammer

Chapter Sixteen-Eyes in the Shadows

Chapter Seventeen-Welcome to the Celebration

Chapter Eighteen-The Prize

Chapter Nineteen-Escape

Chapter Twenty-Norban Gets a New Rider

Chapter Twenty One-Found

Chapter Twenty Two-The Promise

Chapter Twenty Three-The North Wood

Notes and Acknowledgements

Surprise First Chapter of Book Two

More Books by A. Foster aka Annette Foster

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Chapter 1-Strangers Meet

Thick, black smoke billowed slowly, up into the cold morning sky. Its origin, the remains of the pilgrim settlement locals called Moreer. That was common tongue for gathering point. Not really a town at all, more like a group of quiet people trying to follow their own path. Peacefully living in a rough land or so that was their intent. Moreer was also the site of an earlier ancient ruin locals' called Prat. Even Drellin had no real history on it. Just stones with carvings long forgotten, by people that obviously did not last. Normally Drellin would have avoided the whole place as this was not her business. But these people had never harmed her or her kind. They had always offered food and shelter. It was now her turn to help if she could.

Drellin urged her great mount forward cautiously into the clearing, then continued until she was in front of the main building. Bodies of many humans cluttered the ground all around and a foul stench emanated from the structure itself. Those killed that she could view easily were mostly apprentices, or pilgrims of no great consequence. They did not put up much of a fight to be sure. However, there were also some healers and teachers present among the dead. Drellin could gather by their robes or what was left of them, their stature and importance, or rank to this village. The meaning of that is, or in this case was, all were killed with equal violence. There were, also a hand full of mere servants too. All the bodies looked as if they had been physically torn apart in one manner or another. The scene was gruesome.

The sight of it all did not bother Drellin so much but the smell, that was another thing entirely. The ground was so soaked with blood that it pooled in places and no longer seeped into the dirt. The smell of death was pungent upon the air, thick and sickly with the hint of rot and decay growing by the moment. It made Drellin nauseous, but she held on to her wits with equal zest as to the contents of her stomach. Now was not a good time to show weakness. There may still be enemies close at hand.

A loud snort startled Drellin. To her right, some forty paces or so away stood a huge brown and white, stallion. The beast was incredible. She had not taken notice of it until that moment. A sign the creature was well trained, it had made no noise up until that point. It was a war horse by its armor and the weapons it carried attached to the saddle. That was obvious. Slowly, Drellin urged Norban, her own steed, to move forward toward the great beast. She then caught sight of the young boy at the animals' feet. He was probably no more then fourteen seasons if that. His hair was almost pure white in color except where it was red and matted with blood. The boy lay on his front, hands to his sides. She could not see his face. Drellin starred intently, yet could not see any clear injury without getting much, much closer.

The war horse watched her as she neared, never moving from its position. Now, only a few feet away, Drellin began speaking softly to it directly, "Mighty one, I want to help the boy. He may die if I do not." She slid gently from Norban's back and walked forward closing the short space between her self and the animal with care. Drellin reached up, her open hand to the beast, slowly, confidently and with long practiced ease. She stroked the great beast's neck and patted it warmly. The war-horse whinnied softly in answer. Calmly Drellin stoked his nose and repeatedly made, low, comforting sounds just under her breath, for his ears alone. Drellin had always loved animals. She preferred them to people. Shendar, the forest Elder had told her it was one of her greatest gifts. She loved animals and they loved her back. This horse was no exception. It trusted her, for it finally moved to let her near the boy. That was a good sign.

Drellin knelt down beside the youth, prone and still on the ground. She carefully ran her hands all along his body searching for injuries. Then ever so slowly she turned him over to lay on his back. His face was ash gray colored, and she heard his breath pass in and out, with a tremendous effort. The practiced hands of an experienced healer danced swiftly over her patient. A long, bloody wound ran from the far side of his neck, down all the way to his ribs. It was deep, but she knew with some hard work, it would not be fatal. There was also a sizable lump on the back of his head. That was perhaps more serious, but she could not be sure, only time would tell.

Norban stood calmly nearby. Drellin finally rose and crossed the distance back to her mount. She retrieved her water skin and healing pouch from her saddle and returned to the boy's side. Drellin glanced about continually for scavengers and predators that would inevitably be drawn by the reek of death, pungent upon the air. She knelt again, opened the soft leather herb bag and pulled out a tiny flask, a handful of dried plants and a silver cup. Quickly she mixed the ingredients and gently held the boys head up at an angle for him to drink the contents. He coughed and sputtered a bit, but she succeeded. He drained the cup. Gently she lay him back down. He was quiet within moments, his breathing, easier. Drellin muttered to herself about the bump on his head, but he had responded and that was a good sign. Shendar had taught her the healing arts well. He had also told her she had a natural gift. Somehow Drellin hoped that he had been right. Well for the sake of this young boy anyway.

Why Drellin should care at all was a funny thought. It had never mattered before? The pilgrims and people here in this place had been kind to her and the "people" or forest dwellers, true enough. Drellin told herself that she was merely repaying that, passed kindness. Charn, rat-men like creatures that roamed the dark places of these mountains had been here this day. That plagued her. It was not like them to attack a sizable settlement.

The injury to the boy and the damages Drellin had already witnessed, screamed "Charn". She reflected, low and out loud to herself. Then, hurriedly, Drellin cleaned the wound thoroughly with water from her skin and dressed it. By all indications, it appeared that the charn had left, but they could always return. They were well known to eat their victims after robbing them, dead or alive. Why they would do all this and leave, was a question that made her deeply worried. Banding together to attack this large of a target was unnerving. Shendar will want to know everything that she could learn from this attack.

Drellin finished with the boy and gathered up her belongings. She then placed them back in her pouch. She stopped short and became instantly motionless. Footsteps, headed in their direction. Drellin left the items and sprang to her feet. From somewhere inside she thought more than spoke the words, "Oh great animal, watch over the boy again." Drellin's verbal utterances were low and deadly, mirroring the intensity of her inner alarm. Again Drellin made more low sounds in her throat, translating to "Norban, watch also. Let no one near!"

Drellin then turned and set off toward the direction of the noise, making no sound herself at all. The steps had originated from the small stable only a little way down the dirt road, now a mud path from the days of rain. Drellin continued. The entrance was wide open because the door had been knocked off or perhaps even torn off its hinges. The darkness caused by the black smoke blocked out the inside. The few other outbuildings nearby had already been consumed, leaving smoking piles of charred wood. All of it prevented even Drellin from seeing well. Cautiously, Drellin entered the building, trying to suppress her immediate choking response to the black, sooty air. There may be someone else within, hurt an unable to get out? she thought to herself. Either that or the enemy still lingered. If that were true and it was a straggler or even a scout? It would bring back others. The protector insider her, would not let that happen.

Drellin's eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness, but far too slowly. Before she could pull her blade from its sheath, she was attacked. Drellin rolled with the weight of her assailant to break her own fall. The hard ground pressed against her back and strong muscles of human flesh held her down firmly. Drellin could see the bright glint of the shiny blade held high above her throat. With her only free hand, Drellin tried desperately to reach it, while she cursed herself inside at her own stupidity and carelessness.

"You are a girl?" The man's loud, deep voice rang out like thunder. Instantly, he stopped his attack in confusion. The knife wavered from its path only for a moment, but that was enough. Unprepared, the fighter was thrown as Drellin's foot came away from his hold. It found new placement against his breastplate, she kicked hard, and the man knew flight. With a loud crash, he found himself flat on his own back several paces away.

"Yes, I'm a woman!" Drellin shook with anger. She was now on her feet and prepared to fight the stranger. "I might have killed you, foolish man! For all, I knew you could have been a charn?" The look on her face was pure defiance. It would not be an easy task to take her down a second time. The stranger was not sure he wanted to try even if he needed too.

Before he could reply out loud, a deep growling, cut him off. It was the challenge of a mountain cat. The blood of the dead had surely brought it here. It would not be long before many other beasts and animals found this place too. Food was everywhere on the ground, and it would not be wasted. The fire from the remains of the settlement was dying out. Having hungrily, eaten the pilgrim's homes to the ground nothing was left to save. The stable and little else held more than the skeletons of their original shapes. Moreer would soon be forgotten. It would be forgotten just as Pratt had been in the past.

The sun was already high in the sky, near noon. It was blocked off from view at times by bad weather black clouds. In this case, Drellin believed that rain would not be an awful thing. It would help reclaim the dead by washing the area. By nightfall, there would be no bodies left. If the charn did not return, the forest animals would take care of the rest. This settlement and all that remained would be welcomed back into the arms of the green mother and forgotten. That was the way of the forest. That was the way of the north.

Drellin did not waste words on this stranger. The man had caught her off guard the first time, without a doubt. He did not seem to be immediately ready to fight again now that she stood face to face with him. The horses and the boy were a more significant concern. Drellin did a one-eighty and left the fighter standing there alone. She ran back out the stable doorway and toward the horses. Both mounts stood watchfully for the big cat. A credit to their race they had not abandoned the boy but held firm.

Quickly the man recovered from his slight surprise and moved to follow her out of the stable and into the clearing. He headed toward his own horse only a few paces behind the girl.

Drellin was fast, very fast. She had the agility no elf could match, because of her bloodline. In only the space of a single intake of breath; Drellin crossed the distance from the stable to Norban, leaped over his back, retrieved a huge leather whip in mid-flight from the side of the saddle and landed strategically between both mounts and the lion. It had been a fluid movement like water in a stream, the fighter thought. In the back of his mind, he suddenly counted himself lucky he had gotten the best of the young woman in their first encounter. It was evident that she would not be an easy mark if not taken by surprise.

The giant cat sprang at Drellin with practiced ease and an absolute evil grace. Its fur was black as purely polished onyx. Its claws were incredibly long, fully extended to make the kill. The animal's great white fangs glistened and resembled not teeth but daggers, white as new snow. This was life and death, pure and simple.

The animal's target had changed. Its new aim was now Drellin, instead of the horses or the boy. Drellin's movements had brought her directly into the animal's path as she had meant it too. Drellin had helped to save the boy earlier and was not now ready to let him get mangled by this new enemy.

Norban would protect the young one with his steel-shod hooves even if Drellin died. It had been her last command to him, and he would not let her down. At the very least the animal would die in the attempt to fulfill her wishes. His bloodline like hers was a long story of honor and strength. The beast had seen more than one battle at Drellin's side, and this new threat was not so different then any other they had faced together.

In mid-leap the cat screamed in agony. Drellin danced the heavily barbed, black whip through the air as if the weapon was a mere extension of her own arm. There was a terrible cracking sound as it struck a deep gash into the flesh of the cat's, sleek, muscled neck. The weapon had left a crimson trail of blood from the wound. Then, Drellin leaped and was on the beast with her dagger drawn before it had barely hit the ground. It died at her hand, quickly. It deserved nothing less from her. She hated taking its life, but that did not slow her movements or give her any hesitation. Death was always to be swift when necessary.

"Well done!" The man's voice broke the sudden silence of the clearing. He had been surprised at first by her swift, agile response to the situation. Now, he merely looked at her with a new feeling of respect. Drellin found herself extremely uncomfortable under his direct gaze. The fighter found that he too felt a bit strange in a way he could not quite put his finger on. The undercurrent of emotion between them was swift and chaotic but enticing in its mystery.

There was something measurably special about this girl. Or should he say, woman? Something he could not place as yet, which seemed vaguely important. He let it go. She was quite pretty for a woman dressed like a man he thought quietly. Now that the fighter could see clearly away from the smoke, he was unusually surprised at her looks. She resembled a hunter from back home, all dressed in dark, brown leathers and riding gear. Her dark hair was long and loose down her back, yet braided on both sides of her oval-shaped face. The man could not take his eyes off of her. She was beautiful.

He did not often think such thoughts in general, but it was hard to miss or put aside casually. A fog had settled over his brain. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Boy, she was pretty, and she could fight. That was unique.

"There was no choice." Drellin's reply was weak but, matter of fact. She spoke calmly

as she coiled the great whip up and placed it back onto Norban's saddle. Drellin had used the common tongue. It was yet unclear where the stranger hailed from. His horse, weapons, and armor were all unknown to her. She paused for only a moment to pat Norban's broad nose with affection. He whinnied back softly. Then, Norban nudged her a little playfully, affectionately.

"Come let us leave this place." The fighter halfheartedly invited. Whatever did this could be back" He made a sweeping gesture with his right hand. "Or something else will be, to clean up. If you know what I mean?" The man surveyed the area for a few beats longer. "We need to get out of here. There is no one left. I looked."

"The charn happened here. They are evil creatures. Normally they are not too bright, and never do they strike large targets. Something is very wrong." Drellin offered in answer to the indirect question. Where was this man from that he did not know charn? Better still, there was a place in the world that did not know charn? Drellin would like to go to that place someday.

"I don't know anything about these charn creatures. I will need to know more. We could help each other. I am on my way to the city of Bracar. It is some ten days or so travels to the south from here. I will rig a carrier for the boy." He motioned toward the still body of the youth. "It won't take long to build. I intend to take him there where he can get proper care." The statement was very, matter a fact, as if there were no room for discussion. The fighter was not exactly sure why he had asked her to come along, but after doing so, he was somewhat satisfied with himself. Generally, around girls or rather women, he was pretty backward in his manners. Perhaps it was the way she was dressed? A warrior or a hunter he was not sure? Maybe the fact she just took down a mountain lion by herself? Or the fact that she had attacked him and got the upper hand? even if she did not get to keep it. That made her different in a thousand ways than any girl he had ever met before. A smile crossed his features. His best-winning smile. It would be okay to have her around. It would be very okay.

Drellin led Norban by the reins to stand next to the dead cat. She lifted the animal with difficulty and placed it over her saddle. Norban was not particularly pleased, but he did not move. Her heart had not slowed much and Drellin could still hear the beating of it drumming in her ears, but she gathered her wits quickly. Breathing heavily from the exertion of lifting the cat, she replied to the fighter. "I will ride with you for a while toward this city of Bracar. The direction you speak of also leads to Mayir. It is a village not too far from this place. If you will go there first," Drellin looked toward the boy on the ground and continued, "I can and will help him. I am a healer. The wound he has will take time and proper care to heal right. However, he needs to be taken care of along the way. If not, he will not make it to this Bracar at all." Drellin kept her own voice rather flat. She did not want to seem too friendly, or too anxious. The fact was that she did not trust strangers as a general rule, but the man had made it clear that the boy held some importance. Where the boy went, Drellin would go, at least for now. If that meant hanging around this fighter a short while, then so be it.

The fighter stared a little longer at her, sizing her up one last time. Before he continued "I would know your name First, that is before we go further down the path together." A kind, friendly look spread across his handsome features. He was every inch of six foot and weighed at least 200 pounds. His piercing blue eyes would not let her go quickly. He held her with them, waiting for her reply.

Names were significant. Typically she would have never answered. But, for some reason, it just came out. "Drellin." She spoke low while tying the cat into place. Funny the sound of her voice had a bit of a shake to it, at least to her own ears anyway. It took a great effort on her part not to be lost in those eyes of his. Drellin worked purposefully at keeping her mind focused on the business at hand. She had killed the animal, but she would not waste the gift of its life.

"My name is Annon. I am the fifth son of Kalamar, from the Isle of Kings. That is a great island chain to the west of this place, several moons hard travel. Your company south would be most welcome, as I have traveled alone for too long. I am on a quest. Your little excursion will not delay me unduly. Let us go to this Mayir." Walking to his horse, he pulled a short ax from the saddle. "I will get to work on that carrier." He quickly applied himself to the task. It was good to have something to do suddenly. If he had continued to stand there, the awkward silence that usually overcame him in the presence of females would undoubtedly have risen up and consumed him swiftly. Being busy. That Annon understood.

"Have you already checked the rest of the settlement, or what is left of it? Are there no other survivors?" Drellin asked one last question, knowing the answer inside but needing to hear it out loud. So many deaths. The charn were rising. This event was important, and the news needed to be spread.

"No, there are no other survivors. These Charn you called them, are very thorough. Come, let us move with purpose and prepare to leave this sad place." The fighter's tone was strong and built an instant wall up against further questions. Drellin finished with the cat. Then she went back to where the boy still lay on the ground. She retrieved her bag of medicines and put it on her mount's saddle. Then, silently, together they, Annon and Drellin worked to build a carrier. Once done they carefully placed the boy onto it. Annon tied the pole ends to the sides of his horse. "Should we burn the rest of bodies?" Annon asked in a hushed, respectful whisper. "There are so many, but we could try."

"No, they lived here. They cared for this forest, and it was their home. Now it will take them back." Drellin felt that was the right answer. She knew these people, not many but at least some of them. They chose to live in this harsh mountain range because they wanted to be close to their Maker. Their spirits would be free here. Their bodies would merely feed the hungry animals the Maker loved as well. That was a fitting end perhaps to mark there passing. Even the burnt buildings would become nothing but dust and soil for new plants and trees. The passing would be complete. It would take a long time, but it would happen. Maybe that is what happened to Pratt?

Together the new companions started off into the forest away from what was left of the settlement. Healers, teachers, pilgrims and servants, all equal in death. It was a good feeling to walk into the forest and breathe fresh, clean air. Physically, the dead smell was soon gone altogether, left far behind them. The sight of that place, however, would never fade from either of their memories as long as they lived. It would be part of their darkest dreams and deepest nightmares. No one could ever have seen such a sight and not be changed.

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Chapter Two-Mayir, A Small Town

It was incredibly late by the time Annon and Drellin arrived at the Village of Mayir. Annon looked skeptically at the odd collection of buildings. The last settlement they just came from was about the same size or had been anyway. It was plain to see why Drellin had called it a village instead of a town. The old, decrepit structures were basically just a hand's breadth above absolute hovels. There was indeed nothing here to write down in any journal for travelers. No matter, the darkness of night claimed it all for its own.

The gray clouds above had threatened more rain for several hours as they had journey south. It had been freezing cold and slow going with the carrier being dragged. As yet those same clouds still held their bounty, but the threat remained real. Even without the actual rain, they served to magnify the bleak smothering feeling that emanated from the village. Annon could only make out about ten to twelve structures.

They passed a tavern called the Leaping Frog. The sign depicted the small green creature in mid-flight on a hand-painted wood plank. It was hung high on a post near the front door. Loud laughter and poorly played music drifted out to them on the dirt road, now turned to thick mud due to an earlier downpour. It was all decidedly uninviting, even to strangers passing through, on a hard trip. Perhaps it was the overall, dirty, run down look of the place, or else it might have been the simple sign above the actual entrance. Larger than the one depicting the frog, it read: "Service Costs". Red-lettered scrawled with intent, the second sign gave the place that truly special, unwelcome disposition. It was all the same to these travelers. They passed on by.

The new companions had stopped twice along the way to Mayir, for Drellin to check the boy. The second time, she skinned the great cat. To Annon's surprise, it took half as long as he would have expected. He had protested at first due to the time wasted, but Drellin said that she would not leave the fur. Then she argued the point that the strong smell would draw unwanted predators on the trail. It bothered him that she was not only beautiful but smart. Annon had never met a female fighter before. He had heard of them but never had the pleasure, or pain in this case. He swiftly reminded himself of how she had thrown him with ease. Annon finely agreed about the cat and proceeded to watch with fascination as Drellin made short work of the task. It was more than evident that it had not been her first kill.

The sky above had grown nearly completely, black. A storm which had already hit the hills to the east was brooding. No lightening just heavy rain, to wash the land, or in this case flood it further. The time of its arrival was not far off. It would surely make this night colder and even more miserable unless they found a place to take shelter soon. Annon was half tempted to go back and try the tavern. He could ask about rooms?. Drellin had motioned him on before he spoke his first word. It was apparent she did not care for the place. Annon was glad as he felt the same way. He would have to keep following her directions. Drellin seemed like she had a plan. That was more than he had at this point.

Drellin had led him this far, so she must have an idea as to where to go from here, he thought to himself. Well, at least, Annon hoped anyway. It had been a long while since he had slept indoors. Funny thing was the cold hard ground had grown to be a very uninviting bed, but perhaps not as disagreeable as the tavern in some ways. It was not only the decidedly negative vote by his companion but the funny aura of the building. The noise was a bit too loud from the crowd inside also. It made even Annon uneasy.

They wandered together, on down the empty, muddy, street with Drellin still leading the way. A cold, gray mist seeped up from the damp ground and wrapped around Annon and his companions, like an evil blanket. It soon embraced the buildings with a dark veil. The lanterns shining out here and there from the little village around them were like glow flies in the mist. Annon felt a tinge of homesickness. It passed quickly. There was nothing for him back home on the Isle. This was his new life. Not good to dwell on what can not be changed. "I will make you proud, father," Annon whispered just under his breath. If Drellin heard, she did not respond in any way.

Drellin led them on into the night. Soon they came to an old stable yard. It was in desperate need of repairs. The fences that surrounded it were broken in random places. They would not have securely held any beast. The huge, barn needed a new roof. The whole building had a slight unnatural slant to it, which further showed its apparent age and lack of care. Drellin slid from Norban's broad back in a fluid action of well-practiced ease. She then motioned for Annon to wait just inside the yard. It only took a simple hand gesture.

The street was still empty in both directions, and they were not followed. No one had taken any notice of them at all since they had entered Mayir. That was a comfort of sorts to Annon. He liked to be on the edge of things. The corral was empty too except for their own mounts. Business must be bad, for there were no other animals. There were two doors. The larger one that allowed horses and carriages to come and go and a slightly smaller one for bad weather. Soundlessly Drellin opened the walking door and went inside. She seemed to disappear. The darkness got just a little deeper. Annon thought time was going to stop altogether.

Annon was not particularly comfortable taking orders from his companion. After all, Annon was a prince. Here, however, he was not. That was harder to swallow then he liked, but it was the truth. He was just another traveler, nothing more. Regardless, Drellin gave the impression she had been here before. There was a sense of alert confidence that all was well, or at least it felt that way. If this were her stomping grounds, then Annon would give in to her wishes for now, at least.

The stable was dark inside but Drellin's eyes adjusted immediately. She counted two stock horses and one young mare in the stalls. There was a strong, wet smell of sour hay too long on the ground permeating the air. The horses also had not been tended well. It made her stomach a little sick and queasy. She could stand a lot, but this place needed tending. The old man was getting behind on things. She made a note to come more often to this place. He needed Drellin, even if he did not ask outright. She stopped still, several feet from the door to the inner room, but still in the central area of the large stable.

"Lat? Where are you? I brought you some visitors." Drellin called out clearly. Her voice was strong, but not too loud. It carried well. She did not want to surprise her old friend or worse, scare him.

There was a distinct, shuffling sound at the far side of the great room. It came from just beyond the small door at the end, which was currently closed. That inner room was the place Lat called home. Drellin could easily see the warm light, that shown brightly out, from the crack at the bottom. That was because the wood of the door did not quite meet the floor. Drellin also knew that inside that room was where Lat would be this night. He hated the cold almost as much as she did. Drellin was still a good twenty paces away, but her eyes were extremely sharp. She could see the slow movement of feet blocking the light slightly as the old man crossed the floor. He moved stiffly to open the creaky old door.

An odd looking, round-faced, aged individual peered out. He held up an overly smoky lamp, above his head in his left hand. There was a beautiful inviting glow of firelight behind him which made the interior of the stable itself feel a bit warmer. The old man stood legs slightly apart in a battle stance of sorts as he opened the door a bit wider. In his right hand was a large club hefted high and ready for a fight. There were few burglars that would have feared such a rolly, polly, old fellow. Regardless, he would have thumped them squarely on the head, if given the chance.

Quickly recognizing who the intruder was, Lat tossed the makeshift weapon aside. He turned and placed the lantern on the hook, next to the door. Then he threw up his hands in sheer delight. "Drellin! Come on in, and bring your friends." He gave a warm, deep laugh. "What is it this time, a squirrel, her babies, a fox with a broken leg or even a gray wolf with a toothache perhaps? What homeless, needy one have you brought for me this night?" He laughed hard and loud, happy to see his longtime friend. She was always a welcome sight. Then seeing her face clearly, he stopped. Lat walked forward into the main stable. He looked a bit closer at her and could sense her mood was somber. There was also a question in her eyes. "What is wrong little one?" Lat asked softly. "All is well here. You are safe! Come closer, come inside." The old man tried to sound comforting.

Drellin swallowed hard. She drew herself up and closed the short distance between them. There had been a reason Drellin had come this way. A reason, she had come to Mayir. Even before she had met up with the fighter Annon, and the boy, Drellin had been on a quest. It had been given to her by the elders. It was a quest that would affect the entire north. All of her people were in danger. All of the people were in danger!

Lat's home was safe. Well as safe as any place could be in the north at this time. Lat had welcomed all of Drellin's kind over the years, but Drellin was special. She had made a point to come and help Lat and others in Mayir. When food was hard to come by, Drellin had hunted for them. When trouble was near, she had guarded and even fought as needed. Few knew of the real contributions the young woman had made over her lifetime. Few would admit they had accepted her help if called out. Her "kind" were generally unwelcome. Half breeds or otherwise, they were all hunted.

Drellin looked more human than most, but that was just appearance. Her long hair was loose behind her, but for two tight braids. The soft brown ropes framed her features nicely. There were a few small lose wisps, escaped strands about her face too that made her look young. Drellin would pass for human sure enough, but not for long. An experienced hunter would pick her out in a moment. For that reason alone, caution was necessary.

The clothes Drellin wore, were all fashioned for the north. They were nothing special exactly. Hunting gear. Brown leathers and a dark brown cloak. Again, nothing to draw attention. It was the way she carried her body. The strength and speed she commanded. With her heighten sight, Drellin was a match to any northern elf. Drellin gave herself away for being a mutation, by just being herself. Her agility and dexterity were incredible. The only outward sign of her real skill was the leather strap at her neck. There was a carved redwood bead strung there. Lat knew it to be a designation of "Master Hunter" skill level. In a rare moment, years back, Drellin had shared the story. That was the only time, and it had been fleeting.

Drellin gathered her thoughts. Slightly above a whisper, "There has been an attack at the settlement. It was charn. I am glad to see you safe. Things are getting worse my friend." The old man looked reassuring. His haggard, face gave a slight smile, and he nodded his head in response.

Lat knew the importance of her visits to her kind, even if she did not voice them out loud. She was a runner. That meant she was considered less than human by most. That also made her path in life, dangerous and lonely. He was honored in his own way to call her friend. Lat did not follow the views of the general populace. He had fought for the real King in his youth. Later, however, when the King's son had taken the throne, honor was a questionable trait at best. Lat had retired here in Mayir because this place cared not for your past, only for your current skill or trade. Lat liked being a keeper of horses. They had honor without question. Horses that is. It was age that ran him into the ground and prevented him from doing what he liked to do well. Which was ride horses? Now he just kept them.

"No. They have not been here. I have heard nothing. All is safe." Lat's voice finally broke the silence of the thick air between them. "Come, we will talk inside. First, however, bring in your friends." The tone of his voice held nothing but reassurance. "We will sit by the fire, and all will be better. I don't get much news so I would love to hear all that you have." Lat smiled again very warmly. Drellin was on edge. His efforts to soothe her were wasted.

Drellin's face grew dark. A worried look crossed her features, he had not seen before. "Lat, I have brought humans, and they do not know about me." The tone of her voice was somewhat defensive, yet held a single note of fear. That was uncommon for her and set him back a bit. If Drellin was afraid of something, it was good to be watchful.

Quickly Lat grasped the situation. He drew himself up a bit, taller than before and smiled his best fatherly smile. "How did you come by humans? No, never mind," He shook his head slightly and held up one hand in a gesture to stop her before she started. "I don't think that I want to know. Don't worry, they will not find out from me." Lat gave her a secret smile, which finally put her somewhat at rest. He meant every word. They would not find out anything from him this night. Drellin trusted Lat, more then she had trusted any other human in her past. Drellin smiled back. There was no need to say anything more about it.

Lat smiled and turned back to the inner room, "I will get things ready."

Drellin watched him retreat for a few breaths, then walked back to the entrance of the stable. This time, instead of the smaller door, Drellin cautiously shoved her wait against the wood bar. It rested on two huge hooks to keep the double door tight. The bar gave way with an aged, creaking sound. The doors opened. Drellin stopped them part way. She did not want to invite the world in, only her companions. Annon was waiting in the deep darkness of the shadows, just beyond. "This way," Drellin whispered in Annon's direction. Drellin motioned with her hand, more from reflex or habit then the man's ability to see her actions. Norban came to her immediately. Drellin's voice was enough. Annon followed her horse with his own mount into the stable. The stretcher with the young boy passed inside behind Annon's mount. It was still tied tight and attached to his saddle.

Before the door had opened, while Annon had waited for the girl, he had kept a close watch. The black clouds from the coming storm covered the world above. No stars. There were only a few small lights here and there that could be seen in the little buildings nearby. Annon sat waiting on his horse patiently. The streets were mostly empty, but Annon was still on serious alert. Unconsciously he shifted his weight in the saddle from side to side. His bones hurt from too long in the saddle. There had been no movement at all, back down the street they had traveled to get to this place. Annon watched intently none the less. They were not altogether that far away from the settlement. Those so-called Charn, or rat-men, could take down this whole village just as easily as they had that place. Annon had no doubt. In fact, he saw little reason to think they would not eventually do just that. If these creatures had grown bold enough to attack the other settlement, there was no limit. It was a good idea to stay absolutely ready.

Annon sensed the movement from the barn. He turned his attention back to the entrance. Drellin was nearly invisible, but he knew it was her. "This way," Drellin called softly for his ears alone. Well, he thought he heard her anyway? Annon felt a bit relieved to have finally arrived at their destination, for this night. A real roof over their heads, even one with a few holes here and there were better than being drenched again by ice-cold rain. Not for the first or last time, Annon found himself remembering how warm his homeland had been. This place was cold. Maybe it never got warm here?

Annon was aware they were not alone from the moment he entered the stable. He did not immediately see the old proprietor, but long years of experience taught him caution if nothing else. His sharp fighter awareness made him just a bit edgy. Annon had only a moments' hesitation at the entrance, which was soon set at ease by the unspoken assurance he received from Drellin's pretty face. She glanced directly at him as she stepped near, leading Norban. Once all were inside Drellin went back and pulled the big door closed behind them, then lifted the heavy bar, high above into place. There was a hard scraping sound again, as the old wood fell into the deep iron brackets. The bolt was secured.

The warm glow that came from the small room at the far end of the building was a pleasant sight. That is where Annon noticed the actual outline of the old keeper.

Lat turned as if he felt Annon's eyes on his back. Then he waved with his right hand and headed into the big room. "Hello, friend." The keeper wheezed a little as he spoke. "My name is Lat. You are welcome here." And in a much lower voice. "You are safe here." All the while Lat was talking he walked closer to Annon. Finally only a pace or two away, he presented his open hand palm up. This was a good sign, Annon knew. Travelers had told him it was the best greeting you could expect from a stranger on the mainland.

Annon smiled back and grasped the man's hand warmly. "Thank you. It sure is nice to be out of the weather." Annon spoke in rough, common tongue.

"You can put your horses in any of the stalls." The keeper spoke in a matter of fact tone. He made a tsk tsk sound. "They are mostly empty, as you can see. Only a couple of customers is all. Business has been very slow for a long time. The fresh hay is in the bins near the far wall," The old man motioned with his hand held high, pointing. "I will see what I can find for you all to eat." Lat abruptly turned on one heel and headed back toward the inner room. Funny until then Annon had not given eating much thought. He did find however that his stomach was now growling loudly in his own ears at the mere mention of food. "When you have seen to your mounts, come and join me. I have a good Boomera wine from the beautiful fields of the south country." The stable keeper continued speaking over his shoulder as he disappeared into the chamber beyond. His voice carried well for an older man.

Both travel companions made short work of the task before them. Annon and Drellin said little to each other, while they removed saddles, and made sure their horses were handled properly. Annon unhooked the carrier with the boy and lowered it gently to the ground. Drellin could see from where she stood next to Norban, that the kid was still out. Hopefully, it was only sleep, and he would wake before long.

Annon moved to the boy's side, bent down and gently lifted the small body lightly into his strong arms. The burden was nothing to the big fighter. Drellin led the way. Together they headed quietly, for the warmth of the inner room. There was a fire at the hearth. It was small but inviting as they drew closer.

"Lat, this is Annon." Drellin immediately formerly, introduced the fighter as they entered through the small doorway into Lat's actual home. She motioned Annon to follow her closely. Lat gestured toward his own bed in the far corner, and Drellin led the fighter directly to it. There she helped to lay the youth down and cover him in warm blankets.

The inner room was not large, but the fireplace gave off a pleasant glow of welcome. "We found the boy at the settlement to the north of here." Her voice dropped slightly as if the very walls had ears to hear. "It was destroyed by charn. They killed everyone there Lat. Everyone." She repeated more for herself then for Lat. It was to help give her self, a sense of the reality to the surreal situation. "There is not even much left of the buildings themselves. A fire took almost everything. It is not clear if it was set intentionally or not. Regardless, it had nearly burned everything to the ground before we left." Anger was plain to hear in her tone too. Such waste was hard to swallow. In a land where life was more than harsh, often life-threatening, Drellin had to respect the settlers. In the face of great odds, they had always stayed.

"Come, let us all warm ourselves. My fire is very inviting." Lat smiled broadly. "Any friends of Drellin's are welcome here in my humble home. The little man motioned with one hand for Annon to sit in a big chair close to the fire. "Let me get the wine I spoke of, and we will breathe easy for a while and speak of better days."

Lat watched as Annon sat heavily in the wooden seat. It was obvious how tired the human was from the long trip. Lat then crossed the short space to Drellin's side with ease and wrapped her in his stout embrace. "Come, I will get the wine." He commanded in his best, fatherly voice again. "I tell you now, you have taken too long between visits to my house little one. That is a wrong we should set aright." He took her by the arm and led her to another chair. It was near the wall and the boy. Lat knew she liked to watch the door, and it was easy to tell the boy meant something to her. It was always that way with Drellin. He did not know precisely why. The lonely, lifestyle of a runner, made her want to save the world? Or was it simply, her heart was too soft? It did not really matter, the outcome was always the same. Drellin had too much empathy, and it was going to get her killed one day. That is how Lat saw it.

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Chapter Three-Unexpected

The rain poured down in buckets, when the full storm finally hit tiny, Mayir. Lightening lit up the night sky outside, bright as full daylight for several heartbeats at a time. Then the thunder that followed shook the walls of the little room, even inside the big stable. The roof leaked a bit here and there, but the small fire continued to keep the place warm. Annon and Lat sat by the hearth drinking Lat's stash of Boomera wine and eating hard bread and aged cheese together. Annon thought to himself that the wine was as good as Lat had promised for sure. To his amazement, Annon thought the food was the best he had ever eaten as well. It was probably the fact that he had not eaten for a couple of days that flavored the meal.

Drellin had refused the food. She had too much on her mind and found that even if her stomach was empty, her mind was full. Drellin kept mostly to herself as the other two talked. The hours passed but she did not sleep. Her eyes moved back and forth between the door and the boy on the bed. She listened to Annon and Lat for a while, but not too closely. Mostly Lat went on about nothing important because nothing important ever happened in Mayir. As for Annon, he was full of questions. Lat was considerably more talkative in the last couple of hours then Drellin had been since they met.

Lat's home had always been a safe haven for Drellin. Even if she did not eat, she was still at home here, or at least as at home, as she ever could be. Runners were never really home in any city, town or settlement. They were generally shunned or even hunted. Not so much this high up in the north, but the south was a different story. It was a different place with a civilized king. Or so they said. Drellin's lips drew back just a little bit to show a thin line of sharp, white teeth. Not a smile.

Drellin also listened intently to the storm. This night would be hard on anyone foolish enough to be caught outside. Pretty much, all seek shelter on nights like this. Even predators. The north was known for tremendous storms. This one was no different. Tomorrow there would be even deeper mud and slower traveling. Not a good prospect.

Lat told Annon what he knew of the settlement to the north and the people that had lived there. They had been a generally peaceful sort as Annon had expected. On rare occasions, the people of Moreer would come and trade their wears and healing services for supplies. Taking in strays such as the boy, was a bit unusual for them, Lat said. He had seen the boy in the past once or twice. Lat believed he remembered the boy's name too. It was Talma. However, he did not know much more than that. At least Annon thought it helped to know the boy's name. There was importance in a name. Well, at least where Annon was from, on his side of the world.

Annon also wanted to know all he could learn about the surrounding countryside. Lat loved to talk and was doing his very best to answer every question. The main reason for Annon's own quest was that he wanted to further his knowledge of the region in general. He had come from the Isle of Kings to the far west, where the land was warm and well settled. He shared with Lat that he was the fifth son in line to a great thrown. It was fine with Annon that he would most likely never be king. However, he felt that being the last in line to such a legacy, left his heart a bit unfulfilled. So he had left his own country, to find high adventure. Perhaps, one day he would return and prove that being fifth had nothing to do with being the last in line for anything. Drellin merely listened to both men intently, taking in every detail. The storm did not let up.

Abruptly the small door burst open to Lat's inner room where the group had been resting. A young man of about sixteen seasons ran in. The fact that Drellin had not heard him coming shook Drellin out of her lull. She was apparently more tired then she had let herself believe. "Lat?" The young man's voice was filled with the exertion of running. His clothes were soaked to the bone, and his teeth chattered slightly, as he spoke. I have news!" Talor was a petty thief and often came to Lat's home to hide from an angry victim. Lat found he was often the home of several strays. They came in all kinds of shapes and sizes. Strays asked little of you but truly needed you.

"Talor, what is wrong?" Lat asked as he rose from his chair. "Slow down and catch your breath boy, I can barely understand you!" The old man crossed the short distance to where the youth stood. He reached out and grasped him by the shoulders and looked him squarely in the eyes. This had a tremendous calming effect on the messenger. One breath. Two breaths. Then.

"There are some men in the tavern looking for," and Talor's voice died there. He did not finish his sentence. His eyes met with Drellin's. She now stood only a few paces behind Lat. She had covered the short space from where she had been swiftly and soundlessly. Her gaze held the boy still, petrified for several heartbeats. It was immediately evident that something was seriously wrong with the scene playing out in front of Annon. However, he could not quite put his finger on it. He just knew it, by the way, the boy reacted, as if mortally afraid of Drellin. That puzzled the fighter. Drellin was just a girl. Yes, she could handle that crazy whip she was carrying around, but still, just a girl.

"Go on, boy?" Lat prodded again shaking him a bit. "Who are they looking for?" Lat's face was now wearing a great scowl at the youth. He knew he needed to take command of the situation quickly, or the boy might say something he should not. That could go badly for Drellin. Lat was not going to let that happen if he could help it.

"Shadow riders from the far mountains, they're looking for her." Talor finally blurted out in, answer. His eyes were still glued to Drellin. "They are at the tavern, but they will not stay there long. I came here to tell you because I thought," Talor stammered a moment then finished, "I thought it would be important to you." What was not said, was best kept unsaid. Lat thought quickly. It was known that he crossed boundaries and made friendships with the forest people and even "Others." It made people a little afraid of the old man at times, knowing he knew such "kind." But no one ever bothered him about it or tried to enforce the laws regarding the matter. Lat was protected. Or at least that was the way the resident's of Mayir felt about it.

"Why? Annon boomed out across the room." He had decided swiftly that no matter what the undertone of the situation, this was obviously bad for Drellin. Annon rose from his chair and moved nearer to listen and to get some answers for himself. "I have never met shadow riders. Who are they?" He aimed his question toward Drellin. "I have a lot to learn about this land. You seem to have enemies just about everywhere."

"They are a clan of warriors that live in the deep mountains to the north and east of here. It is rare they ever come this way. I do not know what they want Annon. Wait here with Lat. If I do not return before the morning, leave without me. I will catch up with you again soon. The mud will be thick tomorrow, and the going will be slow. Here," She reached into her belt and pulled forth a tiny pouch. She tossed it to him lightly. "Give a small amount to the boy twice each day until he wakes. Mix it with water and make him swallow."

Annon wanted to say something like "Stop." But nothing came out. The look on Drellin's face was plain enough. Whatever the problem, nothing could change her mind. Annon had only known her for a few days, but that much was certain. Drellin went where she wanted to go when she wanted to go. The young woman had already proved that she could handle herself. Annon saw that first hand in action the day they met. In fact, a half smile came to his face as he recalled she got the better of him back at the settlement. Well, only for a moment. But the truth was, that had never happened before to Annon. Never! That was irritating and embarrassing. But it also made his stomach feel funny, but not really in a bad way. Odd?

Drellin allowed only a glance toward Annon and gave him a somewhat reassuring expression. Without waiting for a reply of any kind from either Annon or Lat, Drellin immediately pushed forward. She passed Lat and the young man at the entrance, then headed out into the main stable. The messenger did not wait for anyone to say "leave." He simply took his queue and followed Drellin out. He tried to control his fear and not bolt. The young man was thrilled to have given his message and now was released to leave, or so he thought?

The Runner stopped in the main, area. Talor stepped to the side and tried to make himself small. If she left, he could just walk out. Maybe he should have stayed with the old man? What was he thinking? She was just a girl? Then his pulse beat faster, as he remembered the stories. There were lots of stories.

Drellin called low to Norban in the big, dark, room. The horse whinnied back in answer. She grabbed her saddle off the rail and swiftly handled her mount. Talor did not run, perhaps out of respect, but more likely out of fear. When she was finished Drellin faced Talor directly. "You will take me to the shadow riders now." There was no chance of declining the request, for it was actually an order. She swung up into her saddle. Commanding eyes looked down at him, "Open the big door."

Talor immediately went to the double doors. He pushed hard up on the bar, and it gave way. Drellin urged Norban forward and outside. It was ice cold and pouring rain. Talor closed the door and went around. He stood for a moment at the small entrance. He could refuse. That was not really a good option. What did it matter? She had not offered to harm anyone regardless of what people said. Making some inner, important decision, Talor passed through the door to the outside. He walked slowly, but purposefully to Norban's side. Talor could see no way out, and there was nothing to do about it. He accepted.

Drellin pulled him up to sit in front of her, easily. She could feel him shake. From cold or fright, it did not really matter. To his credit, the young man simply sat in silence. Together they rode off into the storm.

Before Annon could gather a protest of his own that would hold against her steadfast strength of will, Drellin was gone. Both her and Talor had disappeared first into the big room and then out into the rain. Well, what did he care? They had just met. Then, she had looked his way, before leaving. Confounded, why did his stomach always feel so funny when she was around. Or in this case, worse yet, gone off who knows where?

Lat turned to Annon, "Oh, don't look so mystified. She runs off like that all the time. Drellin will be back like she said she would." Lat then closed the small inner door to his home. He stepped around the big man and went back to his own big chair. It was late, it was cold, and he was tired.

"I don't take orders from any woman." Annon quickly replied. He turned to face Lat squarely from where he stood in the middle of the tiny room. In one hand he held the pouch Drellin had given him and the other he had made a tightly clenched fist, which he shook in the empty air.

"The storm awaits you, my friend." Lat, smiled warmly back. "I believe it will be some time before the rain stops. I don't like the cold myself, but you are welcome to give it a go." Lat leaned forward and pushed a full mug on the table, a bit closer to the fighter. "Do you need help getting the boy back on that carrier?" Annon said nothing. His face was a mixture of anger and confusion. Lat grasped a short log from the stack near his chair and tossed it onto the small glowing flame. He kept his eyes down. The old man could tell that Annon had a lot of pride. He wanted to give the man a moment to compose himself. It was hard to be pushed around by Drellin, but she had a real knack at doing it really well. It was not something Drellin thought twice about. It was Annon that could not understand a woman of such uncommon, traits. She was brave, selfless and by all accounts, he had seen so far, nearly his equal.

"Well," Annon paused and listened to the downpour outside as it played loudly on the roof. "I think I will stay until the storm is passed, for the boy's sake. Not because she said too, mind you. It is because I have decided to do so, my self." Then, Annon lowered his clenched fist to his side and released it. Annon slowly went back to his own comfortable chair near the bright fire and sat heavily.

Lat smiled knowingly, and casually opened another bottle of wine. It was going to be a very long night.

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Chapter Four-Brother

The dilapidated, building known as the Leaping Frog lay not much more than a couple thousand yards down the ugly, muddy street. Thankfully, it was also an empty street. The lightning has stopped flashing, and the main storm had moved on. Yet the water continued to poor. Drellin rode most of the distance as she did not want to leave Norban too far away. They had been basically, inseparable from each other since her childhood. Drellin's father had given the great beast to Drellin the day he left. That had been many years ago.

With their destination clearly in site even threw the hammering rain, Drellin slid from the horse's broad saddle and helped the boy down. Together they walked the remaining distance to the building. The mud sucked at their feet, and tiny rivers of dark, murky, water trailed around them with each step. Drellin let her horse's reins drop behind her, but knew Norban followed on his own. He was only a hand full of paces behind. Drellin searched the black shadows for danger constantly, but could not see well, even with her eyes in this weather. The rain beat down heavier from the black clouds. Caution vibrated in Drellin's every limb the nearer she drew to the tavern entrance.

Drellin left Norban in front of the place. She did not tie him to any rail. The runner then followed the scared boy into the filthy establishment. The lights were dim inside at best, emanating from smoky, poorly kept lamps. The fire in the stone hearth which was built in the center of the main room, danced low. It eerily cast horrific images about the room. Between the terrible weather outside and the unquiet feeling inside, it made even the wary, nervous. There were only a handful of people in the establishment. It was late now, and most had gone home, turned in for the night. There was a stairway on the far side of the main, area that led up to the second level. There would be rooms for rent, and the innkeepers own residence that direction. This was the best Mayir had to offer travelers in the way of refuge, but Drellin much preferred the old stables.

Three dark men sat waiting near the fire. Their eyes were extremely intent on Drellin's every move since she had entered. They were what the boy had called Shadow Riders. Their clothing was obviously their calling card. Their name was perfect because they melted into the deep darkness of this place with ease, due to the color of their cloaks. They were also humans. Drellin knew that from their smell. She had run across their kind before she remembered, now that she faced them squarely. They were a standoffish type group in general. They lived in the high mountains to the north and east. Their land bordered the Maralan Forest. It was quite unusual for them to be in these parts. That is unless it was a very, hard winter and game, was too scarce. Thankfully, that was not often. Drellin knew they were fierce fighters. They also did not like strangers much. Her kind had few dealings with them. It was more a, mutual respect of territory than anything else.

Drellin walked, slowly toward the table. As she did so, she released Talor. He had done all that she had asked. He quickly made himself absent from the situation. For that matter, no one else stayed around either. Even the keeper of the place had found it prudent to head toward the kitchen area in back. The electricity in the air was easy to feel, and the smell of fear nearly choked Drellin. It did not come from all the shadow riders at the table. Only two of the three were afraid.

To her surprise, Drellin recognized the one rider as she drew close. "Pranl!" Drellin's voice rose slightly, as she realized it was her childhood friend. The man had spent two summers with her in his youth. They trained and learned from the elders, deep in the Maralan. Pranl's father had sent him to serve Shendar, Drellin's own master. In return for helping take care of the old teacher, Pranl had been allowed to learn healing knowledge. That had been a, great time for Drellin. They were never romantic but instead had formed a unique bond. Challenged by each other constantly at the games, yet cheering each other on at every turn. They were more like brother and sister rivals.

Pranl, had been in high standing among his own clan even as a youth. He was born to be a leader. His face was that of the youth in Drellin's memory, but a man of tremendous strength and will set before her now. Only a hint of that true boyish charm remained, detectable now by just a handful that cared to savor the memory, as she did. Yes, the other two smelled of fear, but Pranl, never.

"I carry grave, news my friend. Come, set with us." Pranl motioned to the empty chair nearest him. He poured wine into a bronze goblet and held it out to her. The rareness of the situation made Drellin all the more uneasy. She did, however, take the drink offered and sat none the less. The other two riders watched closely but said nothing. They did not particularly like Drellin's company, but they did nothing outwardly to object to her presence. The fear they had radiated, seemed to have lessened slightly after Pranl had greeted her so warmly.

Pranl waited as was customary among his people. Drellin lifted the glass to her lips and drained the cup quickly. The liquid left a warm, gentle fire in her stomach. Perhaps she should have eaten something earlier Drellin thought. Well, that could not be helped at the moment. Then Pranl was able and ready to speak. The customs had been met. The formality of prudent etiquette, and now he could wait no longer.

"The Master sent a courier. Shendar sent a messenger to find you." Their eyes met. "It is an elf. " Drellin's eyes went wide. She cursed herself inside. Drellin knew her emotions must be all too easy for Pranl to read. Pranl continued "He bears an important message, but he will not tell us what it is. We found him some twenty strides out, from here. He had been attacked by charn. We could not move him. We could not bring him here. He would die from such a journey. You will come with us?" Pranl's tone was flat and emotionless. It sounded like a question, but it had an underlying feeling of something much deeper.

"There is more?" Drellin finally voiced her own thought softly. "What else weighs upon you so heavily? Yes, you are right, the elf is paramount. But what else? We were friends once, or at least riders on the same path." That was the term the shadow riders' used to announce their loyalties. "Tell me and know that your words carry great weight." Drellin tried to ease him into trusting her. They had not seen each other in so many years it was hard to reignite the past. Familiarity in the passing of a handful of moments was a daunting task at best.

"My men and I were searching, when we found your elf by accident. Barbarians came upon our camp some two days back. I have not crossed with their kind before. Human, but not really, I tell you." Pranl watched her closely and knew he had hurt her with his words. "No, not like you think. I mean to say, more like animals driven by the dark one himself." His hand strayed to hers on the cup she held at, table level. "Not like you think. Let us be clear on that." His eyes said more then his words could. He had meant, not of mixed blood like her. "They took my daughter and three others of my party. I would have left the elf to die, but he spoke the ancient words of law." The bitterness in his tone was painful. He had learned much in his time with her master, Shendar. The laws were specific, and all runners were taught to obey. They were sworn to it in fact. That included humans or any other kind that trained under the care of the masters. "He told us he was a messenger from the forest elder Shendar, himself." Pranl's voice was filled with anxiety. They both knew that Shendar did not lightly send messengers into the woods, lest it be of tremendous importance.

"What do you want of me, Pranl?" Drellin felt her friend's pain with her eyes. He knew what could have already happened to his daughter. He refused to believe it or let himself think of it. Time was his enemy, and Pranl was no more than a pawn in a high stakes game. The wager was his own flesh and blood, but to win both his honor and his daughter his path was clear. He needed Drellin. Their time together years back gave him the information he required. Drellin could find his daughter when no one else could.

"We have lost the barbarian's trail. These new warriors. Beast-lings. There were signs that they did not kill her, as she left clues. The trail is cold now. Drellin, you must find them for us! Help me! Please, help me find my daughter." The desperation that now seeped into his tone was potent. His left hand shook ever so slightly, and his right hand clenched into a hard fist.

"Why do you ask me, my friend? What can I do? You know that you can track as well as I, perhaps better." Drellin returned his even gaze.

"It would take me too long. Yes, I am good. You are faster and better. My daughter would be dead, you know it." Pranl had finally said it out loud. He then paused for a time, as Pranl let his own words sink into his own troubled heart. "Yes, she would be dead for sure by the time I find their party. You know how to speak to the wind." The last word having more than a single meaning. Wynd in the old tongue. It meant, movement of life. Pranl paused, "I know you do. Help me.! I have helped you. I am helping you now. I saved the elf. I saved the messenger and followed my oath. The price to be paid for my word will be my own flesh and blood? I will take you to the elf. Remember, I could have let him die." I know you know how to save her. You must help me!" Pranl's ending plea was almost inaudible. Drellin thought she even saw tears at the edges of his deep, warm brown eyes.

"No friend. You could not have let him die." Drellin held Pranl's eyes in a locked gaze. "I know your heart and know what this has cost you, much already." All the time she spoke in high Sharkin, the tongue of the elders. That way her words were for Pranl alone. To do the thing that he was asking? It was a death sentence according to the law of this land. Not just for Drellin if she were caught but for Pranl, his men and even his daughter if the truth was known. But that was the King's Law, and Drellin was not much on following such guidelines. Since it was a fact she was not a subject of any king, it was an easy decision. When you are breaking the law by just being alive, everything else is much smaller in perspective. Better to help a friend and take a chance to die for a cause, then to die just because you are born a runner. That was a mixed breed. Unacceptable by the masses.

"Let us go." Drellin's words lifted the spirit of the small group immediately. The other two riders with Pranl did not fully understand everything that had passed between their captain and the warrior woman. It was not important. There was a powerful connection they could sense to be sure. It had lifted Pranl's mental state, and that had been enough for them. Whom ever she was, Drellin was now accepted. Together they all left the Leaping Frog without another word. The boy Talor watched from the far door near the kitchen, but he did not get close. He did not want to go. He was not taking any chances Drellin would ask him to do anything. Information, now that was always worth something to someone. So Talor watched intently.

Norban was right outside, just as Drellin knew he would be. He was drenched, but it was only going to get worse. It was still raining. Not as bad as before. Bad enough. Too much time had already been wasted since Drellin had first met the messenger back at the stable. There was no time now to go again that way to speak with the man, Annon or Lat. Lat would not be surprised she did not return. That had happened more than once since they had known each other. That made Drellin smile. Lat was a good friend if she dared to call him that. She would never say it out loud, even to him alone. It was just a fact. Perhaps her only friend the way she saw things.

Pranl and his riders gathered their own mounts with experienced speed. They had them ready nearly before she had mounted Norban. Too much time had escaped. All Pranl could focus on was his daughter. If it had not been for the forest law? Yet, he could not escape his oath. He spoke a silent prayer as he mounted his own steed. It was a powerful black beast. The water only made the color of its hair shine brighter like black water rippling. Norban was the only mount equal in size and breeding. Their kind were few. Horses all, but the breeding line of the ancients was clear to see. That of course was all gone. Gone with the way of the Wind Riders. That is what they called the winged horses and their riders that once ruled the skies of Arel. Now gone. All gone.

The rain continued as they rode their horses on. The four of them were all covered with mud and drenched to the skin. They road briskly, as weather permitted. North now, into the southern tip of the Maralan Forest. The path became more and more treacherous. The chance of flash flood or mudslide was present at every turn. They did not stop, however, for Drellin feared the elf might die before she could reach him. Pranl had his own reasons for not stopping. Again and again, Pranl thought of his daughter yet he was virtually helpless. Trapped by time, he could not even begin to look for her until Drellin had met with the elf. He was bound.

Annon talked with Lat until late in the evening back at the old stable. They traded more stories and information back and forth over several goblets of good wine. Annon found himself liking the older man and his easy, way of looking at things. The rain finally ceased its seemingly endless pounding on the roof. The lightning and thunder had long since moved on southward. Now there were only a few flashes from time to time, followed by low rolling rumbles ever farther away. That was comforting to both men, even though they said nothing.

Lat yawned loudly and moved to rise. "You can sleep in here, near the boy if you like. You can bed near him in the corner." He gestured with one large hand as he rose. "I will be sleeping in the stable tonight. He has my bed, but I don't mind. I like the company of horses in general. The hay is soft, and they don't usually snore. I don't get up very early these day's, it's my joints you see. The older I get the slower I move in the morning." He yawned again and turned to leave the room. They had talked most of the night, which was fine with Lat. Horses did not keep clocks. They did not care much about the time in general, so that was okay by Lat too.

"Do you think she will come back soon?" Annon asked, finding that it seemed to matter to him a lot more then it should. The wine had passed the time a bit more easily, but he could never let his guard down completely. Drellin had captured his heart somehow. This bothered him more then he wanted to admit. Drellin should have been back, or at least he thought so.

"Get some sleep Annon. Drellin always comes back. I have known her for far too long to worry. Running into the night is not new to her, believe me on this subject." Lat smiled warmly and openly to the man. "Sleep, my new friend. This place is safe, and you have a long journey ahead." Then Lat turned and went out into the main stable to find a soft, clean hay bed. Or at least a soft bed.

Annon sat in the chair a while longer. He stared into the dying fire until his eyes became too heavy to hold open any longer. Annon could not seem to put her out of his mind and found he dreamed of her that night once sleep claimed him. They were riding together across a deep, green meadow. The air was clear and crisp, like that of the early spring back home. She was softly laughing at something they had been talking about, but what it had been, he could not remember. They stopped, and Annon leaned over to kiss her. Sadly he woke abruptly. He had fallen out of the chair.

Annon regretted falling asleep in the chair in the first place, but landing on the floor was icing on the cake. His neck ached, and Annon thought he may never get the kinks out again. He picked himself up off the plank floor and looked out of the small window. The dawn had brought a dim light, but the rain was still threatening to make the day's journey cold and hard. "That would not be good for the boy," Annon told himself in a low persuasive tone. "I think a little more sleep would not be a bad idea." The fighter did not take much convincing.

He walked back over to the corner of the room near the boy's bed. There really was no reason to start too early. Then satisfied that he deserved a bit more time before putting himself back in the saddle, Annon lay down and stretched hard. He was soon, fast asleep. However, try as he might, he never returned to that crazy dream. Annon chided himself a little that he even wanted to return?

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Chapter Five-The Wind

Pranl, Drellin and his loyal riders continued moving throughout the night. It was slow going, but there was no stopping. The rain was relentless at times, then intermittent. Pranl had his own daughter at stake. The north men with him, his men, were fiercely loyal. That was their reason. Then there was Drellin. Pranl had risked much and traveled far just to find her. A message from Shendar? That was extreme.

The charn, were evil, but attacking settlements? There was the settlement, decimated by the animals where Annon and Drellin had met. Now Drellin knew of other attacks according to Pranl. Taking prisoners? None of this was okay. Were the barbarians somehow connected to the charn? None of this was even, normal in the way of charn characteristics. They were just creatures. No one was really, clear as to their origin. North, deep north was the answer. But no one bothered to go there. It was cold enough here in the mountains. Charn stayed even further north, mostly. So again, no reason to bother. But now? Why had things changed? What had changed?

The small camp where Pranl had left the elf messenger with a few of his men was a welcome site. No one cheered but the return of their commander obviously lifted their hopes. They did not understand why Pranl had placed so much importance on the outsider's life, but it did not matter, they were loyal to Pranl. They followed his commands without question. While they had waited, the men had built a small lien-to over the elf to provide some shelter. There was also a pitiful fire, which sputtered and fought to stay alive, near the structure. It offered little warmth, but the site of it was consoling.

Pranl's men knew Drellin too. By word of mouth mostly, perhaps even by Pranl himself. No one here would bother her. They respected and followed Pranl's commands. Most avoided looking at her directly. Was it respect? Fear? It did not matter. Norban road right into camp with the rest of the band. Drellin slid from her saddle and lightly landed on the muddy ground.

The rain had stopped almost at the same time Pranl's party arrived. That at least was a blessing of sorts. It was still hours before dawn. The black mud stuck to everything. All were equally covered. Drellin was extremely tired, hungry and utterly chilled to the bone. No doubt the others felt the same way. None complained.

A younger man came forward, "My name is Kettis." He was maybe fifteen to twenty seasons in age but running with Pranl like all the rest. Kettis must be fearless Drellin thought. Not much more than a boy by Drellin's way of thinking. Talking to her so calmly, or at least trying to be calm, was very brave. However, if he was with Pranl, he must be good with weapons or other skills. "I will take you. The elf is this way. We have made him as comfortable as possible." Pointing to a small make-shift structure. Drellin did not hesitate but followed him as directed.

She sat stiffly next to the dying elf under the tiny, roof of twigs and leaves. It amazed her that he lived at all. Claw marks covered his body completely. He had lost a great deal of blood and would not see the next sunrise. Drellin had strong healing talents, but his life was far too close to the edge.

"I am Drellin. I am the runner you were seeking. Pranl said you bare a message for me." Drellin spoke low and unconsciously filled her voice with sympathy for his pain. Desperately she wished she could have eased it somehow, but he was just a breath from death. She could read it in his face. The riders had done the best they could by him, she could see. With the terrible weather of the past few days, the small shelter was like a palace in these woods, Drellin thought to herself.

"Shendar, sent me to you alone. He said you were his only hope. It was important to him. He wants," The elf's voice was broken and hard to understand. A long shutter passed over his whole body, like the black hand of death grasping at his soul. He closed his eyes for a few moments to gather what strength he still had. Drellin grew concerned that he may not open them again, but he did. "Shendar wants you to go to the City of Bracar. Balor, the great Red Paladin, is dead. He was murdered within the city walls. Shendar wants Paladin's ax. Bring it back to the teacher. Bring it back to your master." A long, thin trickle of blood trailed down the elf's chin from his mouth. He wheezed now between words, and there was a bad whistle coming from his lungs. The blood must be pooling deep within his body. It must be killing him by drowning him, methodically with each heartbeat.

"Bracar?" She murmured low, not specifically to the elf. The name was familiar to her. It was however only the second time in her life she had heard of it. Drellin was sure that was the place that Annon had mentioned he was bound toward, from the first time they had met. Perhaps it was the fates that had led her to cross paths with the warrior. "Elf, I know of many cities, but I have not seen the walls of Bracar." Drellin returned finally in a strong voice. "What can you tell me about it?" She needed all the information she could obtain, but it was still hard to push. Sadly she had little choice in the matter. Drellin feared the worst.

Bracar must be beyond the white oaks. It had to be, she thought. The huge, ring of trees to the south was often referred to as the White Gate. It had been one of the markers or boundaries of her life since she had been old enough to ride. It was an enormous stand of white oak trees that marked the pass to the southern lands. Drellin had never gone that way before. Few of her kind ever did. The south, lands were unfriendly at best to all but pure humans. Shendar had never commanded her like this before.

The whole group sat nearby, waiting and watching Drellin's every move. The wounded elf was still alive, but barely. Pranl tried desperately to be patient and hated himself for wishing the elf, dead. Pranl was bound by a code he had sworn to uphold in his youth. It had been part of the teachings his father, the Chief had wanted for him. Pranl mulled that over now again, and again with regret.

His father had wanted Pranl to be the best leader he could be when it was his time to take command of their tribe. So he had sent his son to the Maralan Forest. Being accepted there by the masters had been a great honor. They did not take many students of the human race. Sadly Pranl did not think that his father could have ever foreseen those teachings to be a hindrance to saving his own granddaughter. Now Pranl silently cursed that valued training and his past. However, it did, now give him an edge. It gave him Drellin. The runner may be his daughter's last chance in the end.

Pranl was a prince. Pranl would be king of his tribe one day. It was not like a kingdom so much, but there were many of his people to be sure. "Free men." That is what Pranl had told her as a kid when they first met. He had been so serious, and so full of ideas. The reality of fighting, training, and leading was much harder then either Drellin or Pranl had expected, as children. Growing up with the masters changed your way of thinking, or at least gave you the information to make your own decisions about the changes you make.

Going to study with the masters had not been a choice. Pranl's father had sent him to Shendar directly. That teaching, that way of life is why Pranl did what was expected. That is why he had put aside his own needs in favor of the Forest Law. The real difference between Pranl and Drellin, was that Drellin's father also sent her to the masters. Also to Shendar directly. But in Drellin's case, there had been no choice. Can you still be friends, and know you are of different races? Can you still be friends when everyone else will hate you if you are friends? Pranl had never really been a friend, but the forest law was specific. Pranl to his credit had honor. Did it matter then if he believed in equality or not if he followed the Law? Drellin somehow thought it did matter. The outcome was the same according to the teachers. Drellin did not believe that to be true.

"You have... " The elf began again, and a spasm of coughing racked his torn body. "The city is south, in the lands beyond our realm. It is past the White Gate. It rests some ten days ride as the crow flies. Shorter for you." The elf half smiled with that comment. He knew her reputation. There was an undertone of respect in his voice. Then he continued, "You have a half brother. His name is Trelonda. He hates creatures. Creatures like you. However, he has been well paid to help you. Beware him none the less!" The elf closed his eyes tightly trying to gather his last words and thoughts. He knew this was important and wanted the last moments of his life to count.

After a pause, a little too long, Drellin asked "Where in the city will I find him? Where will I meet this, Trelonda?" A half brother was somewhat of a shock to her. Worse yet, if this man was a true full blood, their connection would not be a warm one. Drellin did not put much weight in their possible association. The fact was that Drellin was worth a small fortune to the right individuals as a prize. That was not a reassuring feeling either. That made her a target of serious value, dead or alive.

The elf, grasp her hand in his tightly. It was the desperate grip of someone that was sure they would die at any moment. The hand was torn like the rest of his body, and blood touched her skin. The smell of it permeated the wet air. "Here!" He looked down and Drellin followed his gaze. Drellin found, she now held a small parchment and a green jewel the size of a pebble. "What is this?" Drellin whispered low. She had seen a gem like it in the past or at least one similar to it. Never this, this close up. Suddenly Drellin remembered something that made it all clear. It was from her childhood. In a memory long forgotten it came to her. She did know what the tiny green stone really was. She no longer pressed the elf further for an answer. Instead, she quickly put it in her belt pouch. As for the parchment, it was a map of sorts with scrawled notes about Bracar.

"It will help you. Trust in that if nothing else. Trelonda will be at a place called the Tall Hammer. It is a blacksmith shop. That is all that I know." The elf breathed easier, now that he had completed his task. The few moments of his life left to him would be his alone. He closed his gentle green eyes and waited for death. His last gaze had been upon her pretty face. Drellin was beautiful, if not for the fact she was also a runner. It may not have been acceptable to say or even think so to commoners, but it was a fact.

"Peace be yours brother in the land of our fathers." Drellin's words were a prayer on the still air, spoken low with great solemnity. It was more a chant than a true prayer as Drellin did not much believe in peace. At least nothing in her life had given her much hope in that direction. "Thank you Sir Elf." Drellin finally moved from her position on the ground to stand, yet to her surprise, the elf stopped her one last time. He reached up and grasped her hand, desperately, forcefully.

"Drellin! Beware of the Darkness. There is a place, in our dreams, where peace is forever. You must believe me! I pray that one day you will know that peace." It was if her lack of faith had ignited his, like a match to dry leaves. Those were his last words, choked out with his final breath. Drellin continued to hold his hand even as she felt the last remnants of life slip away into nothingness. The elf's eyes grew dim, distant and then blank. Drellin leaned down, gently closed them and kissed his brow. Then she touched the lids of his closed eyes, with her right-hand fingertips extended. In the fashion of her race, Drellin repeated the prayer of passing. She spoke it this time in High Sharkin. Few knew the tongue. Pranl and his men just continued to watch.

Then Pranl, who could wait no longer, stepped forward. "Please, let us go now. My daughter...?" The sentence faded uncompleted. The emotion held in his tone was unmistakable. It was all that he could handle to have led Drellin this far and wait this long. Now he wanted her help! Now he needed it, and now Pranl demanded it!

"I have not forgotten," and Drellin added for his ears alone, "My friend." Drellin rose, the rest of the way to stand tall. She left the little structure, turned and called to her horse, Norban. He came immediately, and Drellin mounted swiftly. She then closed her eyes and cleared her mind. Drellin pulled from her memory the secret knowledge. It was from days long past when Drellin was young. One of her teachers, Medelek the maker of tools, had told her that the wind could speak. Drellin knew how to listen!

Drellin began to call out loud in a low, musical voice. It was beautiful, yet eerie to those that stood close by. "Where do they run?" She suddenly shouted into the darkness of the cold night. Then Drellin waited still as death, alert to the slightest sound. She held her own breath. The men around her could feel the tension in the air. They kept still and watched intently, all of them. Unconsciously, they also held their breath. Waiting! That air electrically charged, made them nervous, but not afraid. Pranl had warned them, to be ready. Drellin listened to her own heart as it drummed in her ears loudly. Many moments slid by. Time dragged as if magically stilled. The whole world seemed like it too was holding, waiting, for something. Then like soft musical bells ringing in the distance, her answer came.

Drellin kicked Norban's flanks hard. He leaped forward in quick response. Rider and horse became as one, knowing each other's minds' due to a lifetime of experiences together. Drellin moved swiftly for the wind was fickle and changed direction far too easily, to be trusted for very long. Norban's ears were flat, back on his great head and his huge rippling muscles worked hard to match Drellin's tremendous, need for haste. They were one, rider and horse. A quest, a mission, a hunt! The thick mud sucked at Norban's hooves but failed to slow the beast. Down the path, rider and horse bolted.

Pranl motioned to the young rider that had met Drellin when they first entered the camp. "Kettis, see to him." Pointing to the dead messenger. Meaning for the boy to bury the body. Pranl had done all that was expected and demanded. Now, he turned his full attention to his daughter. Pranl would protect those that would hurt his family and his people. The boy Kettis nodded. He would stay behind.

Pranl and the others followed Drellin close behind. All except Pranl had to beat their own mounts heavily just to keep up with Norban's pace. Pranl had the only horse that could compare with hers'. The wind encircled Drellin as if it had a life of its own. She rode into the cold, black night fearlessly. The unseen current rustled through her long brown hair like a lover, giving the illusion that she flew instead of rode.

The weather was no longer a factor. Drellin had somehow changed the rules of nature. Norban's hooves had become liter and liter. They now barely touched the ground at all as they sped forward on her command. Faster and faster, finally even leaving Pranl falling back slowly, unable to match her speed. Time passed, a blur. Pranl feared that he and his men would lose Drellin if this continued. However, she showed no sign of slowing at any point and the sun was near rising. The night gave way to an ugly, gray morning, as the storm clouds relinquished their grip on the world above.

The warrior band had covered a great distance. Pranl's own horse was tiring. The mounts of his warriors were near fatal exhaustion.

Suddenly without warning, Drellin burst into a small clearing that was filled with the dead bodies of barbarian raiders and charn alike. They were scattered about in a half hazard fashion from some recent battle between the two enemies. Unconsciously Drellin knew Pranl and his followers were still on her heels, but it did not matter. She did not slow her pace in the least. Drellin had given herself over to the wind. It was her only focus or she would lose the trail. She called out loudly, as before. "Pranl's daughter?" Drellin then held her own breath again, as not to change an unseen current. The bells sounded in answer, and Drellin spurred Norban on even faster this time.

Pranl and his troop were only a handful of steps behind her and Norban. All of them, desperate to keep up with the runner. Then they too burst into the same small clearing. Pranl and his band were immediately alert after seeing the horrible sight before them. Each man knew they were both close to their objective now and dangerously near the end of their own energy. They would urgently need all they could gather from within to be ready for the battle, soon at hand. The weather had continued to drag at them with every step. The morning light helped with the trail a bit. Pranl and his men pressed on.

Drellin heard the sounds of fighting up ahead along the game path she had been following. It was still some way off, but the wind whispered the warning to her far in advance. That whisper came in the form of men and creatures both screaming and dying. The ringing sound, metal striking, and hitting metal, and the softer sound of metal against flesh. The smell of death was already nauseating even from this far away. Drellin's senses were very keen.

First, Pranl came up beside Drellin on his mighty black horse. He was followed shortly by his men, one by one. They road up and joined Drellin on the narrow path the best that they could. Thankful for the moments' rest, no one said anything. They looked to Drellin and waited for instructions. She made the sign for quiet, unnecessarily. Pranl and his men, even the young ones were all seasoned fighters. Pranl could barely contain himself. They had made it. The screams of the dying had grown louder. Close enough now to be heard by even Pranl and his men. Drellin made a sign to follow her with her left hand held high. Pranl and his riders got the message. They had arrived at their destination. Adrenalin now overcame exhaustion.

Drellin atop Norban burst into the clearing between two great pine trees that lined the small path. Pranl and his men quickly followed and spread out to both sides. They all saw the barbarians before them that had caused this long chase. The clearing was about fifty or maybe sixty paces across. It was situated at the very edge of a sheer cliff. The view overlooked a valley, now clearly seen in the morning light by all of them. The clouds were breaking apart to make the scene particularly bright and clear to view. It was an easy, hundred hand, drop down, to the snow-covered valley floor below. The barbarians were surrounded by several charn near the edge itself. They were completely cut off from escape. The charn were winning. Drellin thought it funny somehow to be thankful to the charn for slowing down her prey. The barbarians and the charn both were evil at this point. So picking out who to attack was easy.

Drellin loosened the Thunder Whip with her right hand. She felt the hate well up inside her, that she had carried for all these years. It pumped through her body like hot, wine, and took her over as if she were under some wild fever. It was because of the Charn that mutants and half-breeds were hunted. It was their killings and their lootings of the unwary in this part of the land, which had fueled the fire against her kind for years without number. They were the reason mutants were blamed for unexplained deaths and foul deeds that humans suffered in the north wood. This was not vengeance Drellin thought to herself. It was justice!

Rage overtook Drellin as she wielded the weapon of her paladin father. "For the peace that my father gave his life to defend, I claim your blood! You are the Darkness, I am the Light!" Drellin screeched out the last words in high Sharkin. There was no one to interpret the forgotten tongue, but her tone was enough to make her meaning clear. Together, Drellin and Norban attacked.

Drellin was followed closely by Pranl and the others, their own war cries similar to hers, echoed the anger of their own bloodlines. The charn looked up in fear upon the sight of the Thunder Whip and the shadow riders that flanked her. A funny thought crossed Drellin's mind in mid-attack. Do charn, beasts as they are, have souls? There was also fear in the eyes of the barbarians. On the one hand, they had been saved from the charn, on the other they had not.

Pranl's blade hacked and sliced both charn and barbarian alike as if he were a young man again. Pranl fought tirelessly with the intensity of a berserker. He was a man that was fired up by emotion alone. All sense had left him. Pranl knew only, that he could not lose this battle. He had to win! There was no choice. His followers were true and fought with matching bravery and strength.

The few charn that remained as the battled peaked turned and fled into the forest, scattered in all directions. There were no barbarians left at all. Drellin and the shadow riders had been outnumbered, two to one in the beginning. The numbers had made little difference. The determination of Pranl and his men had made the outcome inevitable. Nothing was going to stop Pranl, and nothing did. Same with those that followed him regardless of their own well being.

Panting heavily and trying to regain her breath, Drellin looked down to find her clothes and body drenched in mud and blood. It was the blood of human and rat man alike. As for the mud? Drellin thought she may never know how it felt to be clean again. She had taken down her share and more of enemies. Pranl now sat nearby on the ground. He was holding his young daughter in his arms. The leader of the Black Rider's face was filled with joy. He looked up at Drellin his friend but said nothing. They both knew there was nothing that needed to be said. Pranl had held up his honor by the code. Drellin had held up hers by helping him. Beyond that, there was only their odd friendship. It was nothing Pranl would openly admit to in front of his own men. It was nothing she wanted him to voice out loud anyway. It was good to know that it existed at all.

Drellin suddenly realized that she had been gone far too long. It was like waking up from a bad dream. Time had slipped away too quickly. It would be dark again shortly, as the daylight in the winter time here in the deep north, was fleeting even in the best of weather. If the clouds continued to break apart as they had done so up to this point, the night would be cold but full of stars. Tomorrow the full, bright sunshine would be a welcome site.

The runner gave a small wave toward Pranl and turned Norban back upon the path toward Mayir. Behind her, she left the honorable man, Pranl, Son of Mayhent, Son of Rayhent, Prince to the Mayt Tribe. She smiled as she remembered his true, title. He had been so young and boastful when he had first come to Shendar's for schooling. It had rolled off his tongue with pride. This day he had earned his place in the ancient lines of his fathers'. He would make a great chief when his father passed. Drellin was sure. Few of Pranl's fighters waved or noticed that she left. Maybe the truth more accurately was that they were glad to use her and see her go. Yet, one or two had met her gaze. There was respect. It was reflected back to them all by Drellin. Pranl had good people in his tribe.

Pranl and his band would salvage what they could, burn the dead and recover from their ordeal. At least they would soon be heading toward their own home. To Drellin, the thought of a home was comforting. Her time with Shendar was the closest she had known since she was little. That was really only a service to the elders. Not a home. A home, is where you are loved and missed. Well, that is what Drellin defined it to be. Drellin allowed a fleeting memory of her father to touch her heart. The young runner had no home.

Drellin had to find Annon, the fighter. She had promised, that she would return. This journey had left her exhausted. They had ridden all night and then directly into battle at the end. What was, in reality, several hours felt like it had been much longer. It felt like days without end. The fact that she had used the forces of the wind had made distances distort. The return trip to find the man and the boy were going to take a while. Drellin also had a quest set before her. She did not look forward to it either. Drellin was instructed to go to the City of Bracar. The elf had told her. That was a death sentence. He knew it when he passed the message.

It would take Drellin two to three days to pick up the fighter, Annon's trail. He had probably left Mayir by now, as he said he had planned to do. Somehow she knew he would be angry at her, but why that mattered, Drellin did not know. She did admit to herself that traveling with him had been somewhat comfortable in an odd fashion. She had never felt at ease with anyone on the trail before. That puzzled her. Drellin's body ached beyond belief. It was a combination of the long ride without rest and no sleep to speak of. However, she also felt an overpowering desperate need, to put some distance between herself and the shadow riders. Pranl was a friend of sorts true, enough, but his followers were not. They may respect her, but it was best not to push things.

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Chapter Six-Reunited

The morning hours passed unnoticed, and it was the smell of hot food that finely woke Annon from his deep slumber. Lat was standing next to the tiny table where they had sat last night. Something wonderful smelling had perfumed the air of Lat's comfortable if not fancy, home. The cups Lat laid out on the table while Annon watched, intently were full of something hot and steamy. "Glad you decided to stay awhile. Are you hungry, mighty, fighter?" Lat smiled broadly, as he chided, his guest slightly. He was not a fancy cook and did not have guests that actually ate from fancy dishes very often. In fact never. Lat found he liked entertaining when he had the chance. Drellin had never brought him, guests, before that talked. Mostly they all had four legs and needed time to rest from an injury. Then she would come back at the right time and re-release them back, into the wild. Drellin saved everything.

"Well, I thought it would be better for the boy!" Annon replied somewhat disgruntled. In general, Annon was not a morning person. He had insisted on sleeping near the boy on the floor. He started off in the chair, but stretching out seemed a better idea. Why he felt so responsible, he was not sure, but there it was. The choice of the floor for a bed? Might have been overdoing it. Annon was up and down several times, cramped and uncomfortable. The man had found little, respite. Who was he trying to impress? Better not to think too much about that.

In the end, it did not matter. Annon set his own schedule or at least that is what he told himself. Annon took one whiff of Lat's breakfast and did not regret his decision to stay at all. In fact, Annon found he could not easily, especially of his own free will, turn down a long overdue, hot meal. It was a fact of life that on the trail those kinds of luxuries were few and far between. Besides, it simply would not have been polite, Annon thought.

That at least is how the big fighter explained it away to his conscious mind. He could never voice the real truth. He was secretly still waiting for Drellin. Annon would not think along that path. He had not known Drellin for any real length of time. How could he possibly be worried about her return, or even for her safety at all? Then, the man thought about the dream, he had dreamt last night. A funny, happy smile crossed his features, unbidden. Annon gathered his current string of thoughts together. "Focus!" he said just under his breath. In a much stronger voice, he attempted to convince Lat of the wisdom, of his intentions to stay. However, it did not make any real difference what the old man thought of his decisions. After all, he was his own man.

"It might be wise to wait a short time here. If Drellin returned then, she could help with the boy. It would be better then I would fair by myself. I can not just leave the kid here either. I know you said he was welcome last night. I do not wish to pass off my burden on to you. You have been more than kind. The people of my land have a code in such matters." Annon looked over at the boy. He was resting quite comfortably.

Annon swallowed hard as there was a growing lump in his throat. "Besides, Drellin seems to be quite a healer from what I have seen so far. Plus as you told me last night, it is the boy's best chance to recover." Annon paused for effect. Then he got up off the floor. He cleared away his makeshift bed. Annon stretched hard and found a chair back at the table. The same one he spent most of the night sitting in. That is when he was not back and forth on the floor trying to find ease.

Lat was listening and stirring a small pot at the hearth the whole time. "As I told you. You and the boy are welcome here as long as you like." The old man smiled. Annon was a fighter by all accounts. The charn attacks were getting worse every day so he would be helpful to have around. Having Annon here was just fine. The boy was no trouble. Just another stray as far as Lat was concerned.

Annon started in again. Funny how easy the old man was to talk too? "The city I am traveling to is a place called Bracar." He grasped the cup of warm broth Lat had made ready for him. "I know it is still about ten days ride from here."

"It is more like fifteen to even twenty hard days journey from here. The weather has a lot to do with traveling in this part of the world. It must be far gentler where you are from my friend. You really should wait for Drellin after all. She knows the trails better than anyone." Lat stopped himself short at saying "or anything." He looked up at Annon from the hearth, "The storms wash some away completely, trails that is. Drellin knows them all. Well." Lat wondered a little that he was trying to get the man to stay? Perhaps it was more than his own preservation regarding the charn? Oh, there was also the fact that it upgraded his own reputation, to have a strong fighter about. Fewer people in Mayir would dare bother him as to who he kept company with. That is if they thought he had powerful friends. Lat was a simple man. All were equal in his eyes. All were welcome in his home.

"I know the location from the maps I studied in my homeland. Several of my kin had journeyed to its walls in the past. When they returned, they told stories and wrote books about the place." Annon had a funny faraway look on his face. Lat had seen that before from travelers that were far more lost then they suspected. No telling this man anything different. He may be the fifth son, but Lat could see privilege well enough. A prince without a kingdom to inherit is just a man. A rich man most of the time, but still just a man. Money does not always define everything. It was not hard to understand being, the last son of a great King. Reputation would be far more important and a man without one needs one.

My father's youngest brother named Vorin, also traveled there many years now past. He was a great scholar in our land, and knowledge drew him to Bracar's walls. There is said to be a grand hall of records gathered by the king of that realm. It was boasted to be full of maps and scrolls to rival even a Time Keeper's palace. That is where I am going, with or without Drellin." The last words he spoke with just an edge of anger to his voice. Annon found that it was actually he, himself that needed the convincing, not Lat, of his wisdom and intent.

"A very shrewd decision I believe you have made." Lat half smiled and stifled a knowing laugh at the same time. He quickly turned on one heel and headed back toward the little cove in the opposite corner of the room near the back. That is where Lat kept his supplies and such. It also served him well as a kitchen of sorts. A few moments passed, and Lat returned again, to the two chairs next to the warm fireplace. This time, he had brought back some brown bread, hard cheese and a pan of scrambled eggs with odd vegetables mixed in. The whole spread looked quite inviting. Soon the two men were seated and returned to chatting together over little things of small meaning. These strangers only a short while ago, had become fast friends. Annon could not remember any place he had come to in his adventures to date that made him feel like home, until now.

By the end of that day, Annon was beginning to feel that Drellin may not return at all. Well, at least within the time frame that he could or would allow for waiting. Lat repeatedly assured him that Drellin was in the habit of such comings and goings often, and the whole secretive way she did it, was just part of the same stuff. Of course, his time was his own, but there were places Annon wanted to be. He had a path in mind. The boy made that a bit more complicated, but the goals were the same regardless of the obstacles at hand. After debating it with himself all afternoon, it was the weather that helped make up Annon's mind.

The storm clouds that barely parted had grown dark again, slowly throughout the day. Traveling in such weather without reason was just wrong. Lat smiled when Annon passed him in the main stable heading to Lat's real home. He made no other outward sign, as he did not want to spook Annon. Lat thought of him more like a wild horse. Spirited, but not stupid. Annon just needed to be persuaded it was better inside than out. The stables were warm and inviting compared to the torrent that let go from above moments later. There would be flooding in the lowlands this year Lat thought. Not good for crops.

Annon spent the next night again, lying on the floor in the warm corner of Lat's home, next to the kid. This time, however, Annon took the time to spread fresh hay. Yes, it was inside Lat's own home, but it was Lat's idea. Lat had even helped to carry some in. Lat liked the company. He was also hoping that he had been right. Drellin was safe and would be returning soon.

The fighter made a plan. He would leave the following morning no matter what the situation was with the boy, the weather or more specifically, Drellin. Annon slept little that night, much like the last. He did find that his body appreciated being out of the cold. In a pleasant way, it helped him to remember his own homeland. The cold of the mainland was harsh. It grasped you and refused to let go without a fight. Annon wondered briefly if he would ever see the shores of his great Isle again? The rain had stopped almost completely by dawn. The clouds had broken up slightly and Annon's plans were set in hard stone. He would leave for Bracar, Annon mumbled as he stood near the undersized window in the little room. There he faced the morning light of the sun Annon found he missed more then he knew. Lat had said Drellin was an excellent tracker. That being the truth, she would have to catch up with them on the road south, if she intended to follow.

Lat came in and started preparing food as before. He said very little. Pleasantly the morning silence was broken by a small voice. "Where am I?" The boy had gained consciousness. He was setting up slightly in the bed as the two men were eating their meal at the table. The boy was starring at Annon across the room. Fear was his first emotion, followed only by absolute confusion. The boy's face was a mirror of both.

Annon was not sure where to begin, but it was heart lifting to see the youth awake. He had even returned to a semi-normal shade of health. Annon stood up and moved his chair a little closer to the bed, slowly. He sat down heavily. "I am Annon." The fighter began the tale. It would take patience and several hours to fill in the many blanks in Talma's memory. Lat joined them early on and provided a hot breakfast for all of them. Again the warm food was a pleasant, benefit to having, stayed. Lat told Talma all he knew as well of Drellin, the settlement and the creatures that had destroyed his home.

It would have been nice to spare the boy the horror, but it would not have been fair. Life was rigid. Death was ever-present. Annon had come to realize that in this land the innocent were easy victims. The boy's face had changed too. It was no longer filled with confusion, but real memory had returned. The fear had changed also, into a mixture of hate and anger. That was sad Annon thought. However, it could not be helped. Knowledge and truth may be the exact key to keeping the boy alive, in the future. Sparing him could be a death sentence. Better to know your situation as it really is. These charn were growing stronger, organizing and killing. The creatures were dangerous, and the news needed to be spread.

The boy had recovered dramatically. He answered questions, willingly between great mouthfuls of soup and bread. Annon found out some things. Talma had been an orphan for most of his life. Sadly this latest event was not the first time the boy had crossed paths with the charn. Turned out they had wiped out his family years before. He had come to the settlement because of that. They had accepted him as their own. Talma was young as the fighter had suspected, but not too young. Talma was already fifteen seasons of age. That was a man even on the Isle of Kings.

As the details of Talma's story unfolded before the fighter and the stable keeper, both men could easily feel the presence of fury and resentment in the boy's tone. It hung in the air like a black cloud. It was darker then even the storm outside. It was easy to see that the soul behind the youth's eyes had hardened by the events of his short life. Annon wondered if he would ever recover from any of it? The man did not think so.

At a long pause in the conversation, "I am going to the City of Bracar." Annon stated. It was a statement for the boy, not Lat. Lat already knew his plans.

Before he could say anything else, Talma dropped his spoon and blurted, "Please, can I go with you?" The teachers had been kind, but the fact that Annon was a fighter intrigued and excited him. This man had saved his life. He would do anything to repay him. "If you take me I will cook and serve you on the road. You will see, I can be useful. You saved my life, sir. Please take me with you."

Talma also felt it might be his chance in life. He had been taught to be a follower of the Time Keepers ways because of the settlers. That was generally the way of peace. Yet, it never sat well with him. Perhaps that was just another of the repercussions of past events. It had been a nice dream, but the harsh facts Talma had seen so far, come to know in his life, were far and away different. The good people had also taught Talma that all things that happened in a lifetime were ultimately part of a greater plan. A chance to leave this land and follow this fighter must be part of that grand picture somehow? Talma chose to think so.

Annon smiled. "Yes, you can go with me." Well, even if Drellin did not return, the trail would not be completely lonely. With the boy feeling better and getting stronger, travel would also be easier. Annon was glad he had chosen to wait.

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Chapter Seven-Drellin and Freedom

Drellin had ridden Norban solidly, with only a handful of stops. If her mount had been any common breed of horse, he would have long since expired. Like her, Norban was a mix of bloodlines. The dark secrets of their history were lost. Drellin was simply a runner. Norban was a gift from her father. They were inseparable.

The weather had lightened up some, but the cold still made life more than a little miserable in general. Muddy pools made progress a bit slower than she wanted. The rain had stopped, but the clouds remained. Sunshine burst through and vanished intermittently. It felt late, but Drellin thought it was still quite early. The storm had gone on so long, it felt like one long dim nightmare. Any break at all was a gift.

Drellin knew that Annon would not keep waiting. More than likely he was already down the main trail. That is the direction she now traveled.

On the second morning, Drellin rode through a clearing and found a small, winding stream. It was only a few feet wide and ran directly across her path. It was at that point that Drellin dared to really stop and catch her breath. She took precious time out to even wash away some of the blood that had begun to cake on her clothes and body. Along with that horrible reminder of the battle on the cliff, the travel mud, from her current journey rinsed away as well. It clouded the clean, clear mountain stream for only moments. It did not take long to disperse, carried away by the current. Death was like that here in the mountains. There were no choices. This land was harsh by any standard.

It felt good to stop, Drellin thought. Norban was showing signs of tiring. The quest to save Pranl's daughter had been long even for him. Since the harsh weather had slackened off, the promise of better days ahead was at hand. Drellin was sure the major part of the storm had passed. Now there were only slight showers from time to time. They served to keep her just wet enough and miserable enough, to feed her hate of winter. An hour later, somewhat rested, Drellin remounted Norban and moved on down the trail.

The mud continued to be a problem, and progress was slow even for Drellin. The urgency had been replaced with stubborn tenacity. The terrain quickly changed around her. It went from the thick pine forest she was used to all her life to low rolling hills covered with tall bushes and lofty oak trees. Drellin's came across rut signs in the mud. She had found Annon and the boy's trail. They had made no attempt to cover their tracks in any way. Drellin had figured just about right on how far they would be along the road. If she continued as she had been all morning, they would be together soon.

The great white horse of Annon's still pulled the carrier they had built together back at the settlement. The two ruts in the pathway were deep and steady, she could tell. Drellin had figured that the boy should have been feeling better by now? Perhaps Annon was just not taking chances. The pace they had set was constant, but not too fast. That was easy to see by the prints in the mud. Also, Drellin based that, on how far she was from Mayir.

"Was he slowing down for me?" Drellin felt a twinge in the pit of her stomach. It was an altogether new and somewhat unsettling reaction. Annon was handsome, but it did not really make much sense. He was a brave fighter, why would he have any reason to desire her company? She laughed out loud at the thought. However, it sounded like a giddy, unsure, nervous noise. To pull her thoughts back to the here and now, she spurred Norban on just a little faster. Drellin told her self that it was a coincidence. The elf gave her a quest that co-in sided with Annon's destination. No more.

It had taken Drellin longer then it should have to find Annon's campsite. She watched the fire dance pleasantly from the trees just outside the small clearing, waiting. The cheery blaze was bright and comforting to look upon. It invited Drellin to come and warm herself beside it. Annon was nowhere in sight, but she knew it was his camp. She knew it mostly because his beautiful white horse stood nearby. He was a magnificent beast to look upon. The carrier was no longer attached to the saddle, but it had been set off to the side on the ground near the edge of the trees.

Drellin could also see the boy. Lat had told her that night, days ago, that his name was Talma. It was a good name. It sounded strong, and he would need strength to survive. Drellin wondered if he knew its' true meaning? All names had importance. Being spared death at the hand of the charn may yet give the boy time to find significance. Drellin liked to think so.

Talma was curled up near the small blaze, possibly asleep. Drellin continued to watch, still mounted on Norban. He looked helpless, from her vantage point. What had drawn her north, toward the settlement where he had been found in the first place? Perhaps it had been curious about the fire, or just loneliness? Drellin never really had a real direction in life as a runner. She did keep watch on the charn and other things happening in the great wood. The teachers always needed information. Well, since she had left Shendar's keep a long time back, that was all she had done. Gather information. It had been hard on her. The choice had been made for her. Being a runner that is. To say there was a choice at all was cruel. Drellin was a runner, and that defined her life.

None of that mattered now she told herself. Drellin felt that she was finally on a path set by fate. Well at least that is what the Time Keepers would have told her, she believed. They were big on things that happened for reasons beyond knowing. Accidents or even coincidence never described the underlying pull of unseen currents. Drellin liked their teachings generally on life and healing but never knew those teachings would have much to do with her directly. Drellin's right hand tapped the small pocket where the green stone rested. Safe.

Drellin slid down from Norban's broad backside and walked very slowly and cautiously into the open clearing. The boy was asleep as she had suspected and did not wake right away. It was not until she was within a few feet of him that he moved a little and began to open his eyes.

Annon was still nowhere to be seen Drellin noted. That was somewhat odd because she could almost feel him. Funny how she had become so attached? Perhaps it was the way he did not seem to mind her company? He was so at ease. Drellin guessed it was due to the fact he came from a faraway land. Perhaps they did not face the same prejudices there as the people of this land? Shendar, her master had always told her to listen to her insides. He said they would serve her well. Drellin's heightened awareness of her surrounds had been a gift and a bane. It had often informed her of danger close at hand, but it also let her know just how different she really was from others. It had kept her apart. Being around Annon made her feel less that way.

Without warning, Talma came fully awake. He jumped up and grabbed a small stick from out of the little fire. In one surprisingly swift movement, Talma had turned toward her and readied himself for a fight. "Who are you?" He demanded the best he could in a young boy's high pitched voice. It was hard to sound too tough when you still had no hair on your chin. His gaze took her in as a long drink of cool water. "Drellin!" Talma's voice wavered in recognition. It was a question, and a statement wrapped together in the same word.

"I would put that twig down and find myself a better weapon if I were you. Or, at least pick up one that is a bit larger and longer." Drellin replied teasingly. "You should also not expect enemies to give you the chance to wake up at all. Going to sleep while on watch could get you in trouble. It could get you dead." She smirked just a little. He looked so serious, and so ridiculous. The two complete opposites were a nice mix.

Slightly upset by her chiding, Talma dropped the stick back into the blaze. He missed slightly, and it rolled away from the dancing flames reach. The weapon had been only smoldering at the one end before he tossed it. It now sputtered out completely as it hit the ground. Talma had to shove it all the way into the red glow with his right foot, in order to reignite it. "You are Drellin, aren't you?" The boy returned to facing Drellin squarely on. He had recovered himself rather well. His voice was less a mixture of challenge and panic, and a bit more calm and controlled. "Annon told me all about you. He will be back soon!" Talma stuttered slightly. Drellin did not think it was a normal reaction for him. She wondered exactly what the fighter had told Talma? Whatever it had been, it had produced a surprising effect to her presence. Talma was young, yes, but he looked more confident than that, at least to her. Perhaps it was the fact she was a mutant. Did he know? Could he tell somehow?

Drellin met his gaze head on and replied to his inquires evenly. "Yes, I am Drellin. I am truly glad, to see you. You appear to be much better." She smiled kindly back at him. That helped to ease the mood quite a bit.

"Come, sit by the fire." The boy tried to regain his composure. He gestured with his left hand at a blanket draped across an old log. "It is not fancy, but it is dry." Talma returned her smile. "Annon told me you helped save my life." He looked a little sheepish with that remark. "I owe you everything. Both of you. My family is dead. Now, my master is dead. That makes me free I guess? I will be your slave if you ask it of me. I would do that willingly for both you and Annon." Talma then looked away in grief or pain? Drellin was not altogether sure.

Drellin had known slavery for a short time. That part of her past she preferred not to remember on purpose. Freedom, on the other hand, had been bittersweet and full of its own plagues and rewards. Regardless, being free to Drellin was still worth everything it cost.

"No!" The single word figuratively slapped the boy hard across the face with the ferocity of her tone. "You are no ones' slave. You are free, now and always." Drellin spoke with all due seriousness. "You do not owe anyone that kind of service!" Secretly she was angry at herself. It surprised Drellin that the very idea of offering himself made her so mad. She had not been prepared for the emotions he had stirred up from the bottom of her soul.

In the great woods where the master's live many go to learn. Most go because it is a great honor to be taught there. Kings and Queens send their children to the north. High nobles pay for the privilege to do the same. Then there are the others. Runners, defining mixed breeds and the like. They are also taught there. The humans put up with the great masters and their odd and unnatural ways of accepting all races. The reason, two-fold. Great healers and leaders came back to their kingdoms. That is the human ones. The others, of mixed breeds, were released and hunted down by the same classmates they schooled with together.

Shendar had been her teacher and master of sorts. He had never been kind in her way of thinking. Drellin's time of slavery was long before she came to the Maralan Forest. Shendar had never been honestly her owner. He had made that clear the day he released her or rather forced her into the woods. However, the deep feeling of belonging to him because she wanted to, had never left her. In her case, she wanted the roots of family, which were never to be hers. That was not the way of her kind. Drellin understood this boy on the level that he wanted to belong, but the difference between desire and choice were too close together.

Drellin moved to the spot that Talma had motioned for her to go. She sat down heavily. It was nice to rest a while. The boy looked back at Norban. He walked slowly and held his hand high. Talma was good with horses, having worked in the blacksmith shop. The great animal accepted him well enough. The boy fed and watered the beast. Then he came back to the fire.

Talma sat near Drellin, only a few feet away. Then there was an awkward silence for a long time between them. Talma finely dared to look up into Drellin's eyes. He was shocked. Talma could see that there were tears quietly tracing a winding path down her pretty face. Even for one so young as he, it was plain to see how sad Drellin must be as she sat before him. Talma gathered his courage and broke the barrier. "I did not mean to cause you pain." The confusion of the moment was overwhelming for the boy. He mumbled on valiantly, "I never wanted to hurt you with my words." Talma could not help but move closer. He took his hand and touched her softly on the cheek. A single tear crossed the flesh of his hand. He brought it back close to his face to examine the wetness. There was a look in his eyes of sheer wonder. "I never meant to make you cry." Talma was beside himself.

"Simply know that you are free," Drellin spoke in a low, whispery tone and tried hard

to smile at him. "My feelings are for that alone." Drellin felt embarrassed at having shown such open emotions. It was unnerving to find she was so easily touched by this young man. What was wrong with her? Since meeting Annon her feelings raged easily. Drellin steadied herself. "You need to be free. Do not take that lightly. Do not follow anyone because you think you owe them something. Follow because you want too. Follow because it is your choice in life to be with whom you want to be. Most of all remember to follow the path you choose to go, always. If the Time Keepers are right and you have a destiny, don't give it away out of misplaced obligation." Drellin swiftly wiped her face with the back of her hand. It bothered her greatly, the salty wetness. She found she hated her own flesh with its physical weakness. Why she had cried was beyond her comprehension? She had not even realized she had done so.

Talma brightened a bit and tried to change the atmosphere of the situation. "Will you tell me all you remember? What happened at the settlement? Annon told me some of what he saw. I would like to know your story?" The boy's face looked troubled. She noted he still wore a thin bandage across his brow. "I was sent there when I was very young. I was sold to a blacksmith that lived among the settlers. My parents were very poor farmers and needed the money to keep their land. They died. Six months ago, a messenger came and said my whole village was gone." His voiced chocked. "My family is dead."

He looked away and sniffled slightly. "I don't remember what my mother looked like, but I know she loved me." Drellin was not sure who he was trying to convince with that last statement? The apparent pride he felt for his family overshadowed any doubt he might have harbored in their intentions. It was not uncommon for the peasants to trade their sons and daughters to those better off for food and supplies. For that matter, the same happened with wandering troupes, merchant caravans, performers and the like. Most of those transactions occurred further south. The weather here was too harsh. Oh and not to mention even if you lived in the civilized lands to the south, the King's there could still conscript your sons and daughters at need. The time of that recruitment was unclear. Was that different than slavery? Drellin thought it was. In one clear way. If she went to war to save those she loved, it would be willingly.

Families that were forced to sell or indenture their children had little choice. The sell or trade helped the families remaining children to survive. This was a rough land even for full bloods'. When you broke the system down and looked closely, it was still slavery. It was just one unspoken law for runners and another for humans. Runners were okay to kill. No one really cared. They were after all, lower than dirt. If they did by some chance have tangible value, they could be enslaved and sent south to the pits. Whereas humans had real value. They were lucky.

Drellin gathered her thoughts and began to recount the happenings of that stormy morning. She was slow and methodical in her descriptions for the boy. She played down the horrible sight she had seen and could still picture in her own mind. The site of the torn bodies left all around the clearing for the scavengers to find was too much to convey. It would be hers alone to recall unwillingly in her nightmares for the rest of her days. The facts were terrible enough without elaborating too much for Talma. The boy must have lived with the village people for quite a long time because his face was a mirror of sheer sadness. She also sensed he felt guilty in some fashion for having survived the ordeal. Why him, while others he cared for had died? Drellin could not give any comfort in that vein. She had never had the chance to be close to too many people in her life.

Reflectively Drellin thought Lat, the stable owner might miss her after a fashion if she did not see him again. He had been kind to her. Drellin thought if he were gone, she would miss his company. Then there was Shendar, but that was not a relationship based on any kind of true friendship. It was based more on loyalty and respect to him. He had made that clear in the beginning of her run. Beyond that, there was the shadow rider Pranl. The fact was she could not claim that bond as being close, even after helping him. They may respect her abilities, but acceptance is different.

If Drellin had died at the settlement or any battle she had seen in her life, few if any would have mourned. Drellin suddenly remembered the words of the dying elf. She did have a brother of sorts. That was kind of a shock. Somehow she did not think that relationship would ever be a close one. Thinking generally along these lines made her uneasy. The fact was, beyond heading in the same direction she did not want to ask herself her own true intentions. The answer would have been all too clear. The "Why" in her desire she had felt to rejoin Annon and Talma? It was the profound, undeniable need for companionship. Drellin's was on a lonely path. It had consumed her.

"The leather whip you wear, it is a fierce weapon." Talma's tone was filled with awe. Drellin found her self thankful to change the subject a bit. "Annon said you were like one of the dark angels from the ancient stories. You used it like no warrior he had ever seen before." Funny, how that statement sounded to her ears. Annon had bragged on her? He had not given her that kind of impression. In fact, he seemed to express his lack of faith in her ability at every turn. Drellin found she felt slightly flushed at the open flattery. Being around people too long did have a downside. It played havoc with her emotions.

"What do you want to be now that you have a choice in your own future?" Drellin changed the subject again quickly. It was the best course of action she could think to take. This boy stirred up too many buried thoughts. He had some kind of gift at it. It was probably his sheer honesty and innocence that brought his questions such power. There had been enough said already this day about her and the Thunder Whip in her frame of thinking. Drellin pushed past the topic as quickly as possible. She found herself reluctant and a little fearful to say too much by accident anyway. The Thunder Whip had been her father's and the feelings she had about him she preferred, remained in the past.

"Annon has promised to teach me to be a great fighter like he is!" Talma piped up happily. He rose and moved to the pile of wood nearby. Then he returned and placed a few more pieces upon the fire. It sparked and grew, quickly in response. The cold was held back by its cheerful glow. Talma sat back down heavily.

"Oh, like he is?" Drellin really smiled this time as she recalled the vivid image in her mind. It was a somewhat funny picture of Annon, just after she had thrown him across the stable floor. The fighter had ended up sprawled out upon his back with a rather shocked looked on his face. Drellin held herself back from literally laughing out loud. It would be hard to explain to anyone unless they had been there to see it for themselves. Drellin did not want to share the joke with the boy. He obviously adored the man. Better to keep silent.

"Will you teach me to fight?" Talma asked point blank, half expecting her to laugh at him. He felt her mirth but was not sure it was directed his way. She did not reply quickly, and her mood turned quite serious. He started to back out. Maybe he had offended her again somehow without meaning too.

The long pause continued for several more beats before Drellin finally answered, "What can I teach you?"

"How to use the great whip you have!" Talma blurted the response out hurriedly in his excitement. "Annon boasted several times that he had never seen anyone as talented as you. He also said that before you came along, he had never even considered the whip to be much of a weapon. Well, at least not a deadly one." The naive look on Talma's face told her that he was very attached to Annon's every word. That was comforting. Talma would need a connection to someone that would take care of him. It would have to be a strong someone too and quickly. The woods were dangerous physically on a daily basis. Talma would also have to replace the emptiness that had been thrust upon him. If not that emptiness would be all too consuming to one so young.

"Well, it seems that you have learned quite a lot already." Drellin noticed the day was passing quickly. They had talked away the morning. Annon had still not returned. "Go to my horse and bring me the saddlebags." She smiled slightly. Drellin could see in his eyes that he was an intelligent, bright young man. He would go far. Teaching anything to him would be fun. Drellin however, did not feel like beginning lessons this very moment. She was sure by his body language that he, on the other hand, was ready now. The last few days of travel had worn her down. In addition, the quest ahead of her would keep Drellin far too busy. There would be time soon enough to consider granting Talma's request. That is what she told herself. He would be a fast learner in any trade he chose. It was sad that being a good fighter was so necessary in these times especially in this part of the country. Talma would probably have been a great healer if given the time to learn the art.

Without questioning Drellin's order, Talma retrieved the bags quickly and returned to lay them on the ground at her feet. His curiosity was almost overpowering, but he waited for Drellin to open them in her own time. Talma consoled himself with the fact she had not said, "No." That at least meant that the possibility was still open. He sat back down a few feet away and kept his eyes glued on her.

Drellin looked long and hard into the small fire before she began talking. Drellin had questions of her own to ask Talma before she would agree to his desire. "Talma, do you really want to be a fighter?" The tone of her inquiry was that of a test.

Talma's late owner at the settlement drilled the boy to have great patience when learning new tasks. He found that his first desire was to blurt out a response, but instead, he tried to hold back. Not everything he had learned from the man had been wrong. However, Talma failed miserably. "Yes! I want to be like Annon." The response was nearly automatic. "I also want to be like you." Drellin was shocked again at his open acceptance of her in general. His enthusiastic reply was the essence of youth at its finest.

"Then you may have this until you win your own." Drellin pulled forth a dark brown whip from deep inside one of the bags. It was no match for hers at all, but his eyes grew wide with wonder none the less. "It is called a Teefta. If it is truly your choice to be a fighter you must understand and remember one thing. You must never kill without a just reason. If you do, you must understand that such is the act of a murderer, not a fighter. You must never kill without mercy, for it is an unforgivable act that holds no honor. That is the difference between a man and a beast-ling." Drellin's words were grave and serious. She looked at him squarely in the eyes with a deep probing gaze. "Promise that you will not forget easily, these two things."

Talma took a long deep breath, "I promise!" The boy pledged with all his will. "I promise never to forget."

"Never is a long time. I am satisfied that you have promised and therefore your heart will remember this day. That my young friend is the beginning of wisdom." Drellin smiled broadly and released him from her hard stare. Perhaps he would not forget, that would be a pleasant surprise. Drellin was seldom surprised by such things, but the last few days had been full of the unexpected.

Filled with Drellin's words, Talma moved a bit closer and accepted the weapon with both hands. He ran the whip through his fingers many times to get the feel of its weight. "When will you show me how to use it?" He finally asked. The energy he displayed was heartening to her tired soul. To be young and ready to take on the whole world was a wondrous emotion too short lived.

"When you are better rested and are free of that bandage. We will make time. I will tan your hide if you open your wound. Do I make myself clear?" She replied rather sternly, still smiling inside, but trying to keep a straight face.

It had been an age that she had carried the teefta among her few possessions. It had been her own when Drellin had first learned to fight. Drellin was not sure why she had kept it at all, not wanting to admit to a weakness. Sentimentality was after all just that, a weakness. Now that it had passed from her hands to Talma, she knew the reason she had held onto it. The answer was given to her clearly by the look on his face. That had been a good thing to do, Drellin told herself. The gift had gone to the right person.

Annon walked into the clearing suddenly, bearing two rabbits at his belt and a broad, happy grin upon his handsome face. "I thought we had lost you." The fighter's voice sung with pleasure at the sight of Drellin. He was also pleased to see the boy up and around. This was a great day, he thought to himself. Clouds or not, he was going to make the best of it. The weather had dampened his spirits too often.

"Look what she gave me!" Talma stood up quickly and hurried to show his friend the whip. He held it out for Annon to see clearly. "Drellin said it is called a Teefta. She gave it to me. I can keep it!" The excitement in his voice was also plain on his face. He looked up into the tall man's eyes seeking reassurance. Talma had attached himself to the big man, without a doubt. There was a connection now between them that would surely last a lifetime.

"Well, we will have to make sure that you spend plenty of time practicing. You will need to know how to use many weapons to be a true fighter." Annon laughed heartily, as he looked at Drellin across the small fire. She was far more beautiful then he had remembered. As Annon had expected, Drellin had found their camp. That was to say he had not hidden their trail very well on purpose. His instinct told him that even if he had tried too, she would have still found them. "Come and tell us both of your little journeys?" He prodded Drellin lightly as he moved forward into the campsite toward the fire.

Annon took out his long hunting knife and began cleaning his kill. Meat for a late breakfast was an excellent way to start the day. He had missed Lat's cooking already, more then he cared to admit. One thing for sure, they would not go hungry this day. As he worked slowly and methodically, he found it hard to keep his eyes off of Drellin. Annon had missed her.

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Chapter Eight-Signs of the Civilized

The sun had teased them off and on with her beautiful warm, welcome face. The clouds parted here and there but it did not last. Winter still had a grip on the land. The weather had returned to being dim and overcast by late afternoon. The growing cloud cover warned of more rain. The three travelers, three companions rode now together south toward the more cultivated farmlands and civilized flatlands. They were in the region Shendar had taught, was the Penzar. The land of purebloods. The comforting tall pines Drellin had grown to love all her life were now fewer and farther between than ever. Oak trees, elms and even a few fruit trees took their place. It was still a somewhat thick forest they traveled through, but the changes were obvious. The path they rode on was well traveled and there were far more clearings, made by the hand of man. Bushes and undergrowth were thinner in this land too. Drellin found she felt unprotected in the growing openness of the terrain.

They had left Talma's carrier behind in the camp from the night before. The boy now rode behind Annon. He beamed with pride and held the big man tightly around the waste. The fighter's warhorse did not notice the additional weight. He was a grand beast. Drellin thought he was perhaps the only horse she had ever seen that rivaled Norban in strength and magnificence. Well, then there was Pranl's mount? That made Drellin smile. Perhaps there were still strong lines left in the world? That was a pleasant thought. Last night she had taken the opportunity to learn his given name. Annon told her the horse was called Morgane. According to him, that meant flood water in the language of his Isle. She thought it was a bit odd for a horse to be named so in any tongue, but the story that accompanied the name brought the image clarity.

Annon had told of a great wave that struck the Isle, where he was born, many years ago. It had killed a great deal, of people and animals in its passing. Morgane had been found on the shores after the tide had receded. He was a young colt then. Morgane had been severely injured so he was going to be put down by the guards that had found him. Annon had begged for his life from his father, the king. Annon's pleas had been heard. His request had been granted. Annon worked hard with Morgane. He did not only live but proved to be an incredible horse.

Drellin thought it interesting that Annon seemed to be drawn to crippled horses, orphaned kids and now too, her? How she would classify their relationship was still just a bit of a mystery to Drellin. The man had made it plain he was glad to see her. He had hugged her for a full ten heartbeats. Afterward, he talked at her most of the night. Mostly he asked her questions, she did not answer. He, however, did not notice so much. Annon simply was glad to see her. The feeling was surprisingly mutual.

Their little group passed a magnificent stand of white oaks on the trail just at noonday. It was an incredible site, one to write poems and songs about. Together, four gigantic trees stood as the huge marker between the north and south boundaries. The sheer size of their trunks marked them to be the oldest trees Drellin had ever laid eyes on in all her travels. The span of each tree's girth was easily forty paces or more.

Their small group was now further south then Drellin had ever been in her whole life. To be honest, it was further than she had ever wanted to be as well. If it had not been for the fighter's company, Drellin might well admit for the first time, she was afraid. Deeply afraid.

For several more, long hours they journeyed on before finally stopping to rest and eat. All were starved. Talma was the only one to voice a complaint out loud. Youth, had little restraint. Drellin was used to going long periods without eating. It was that way most of her life. She had been thankful for the breakfast that morning. Funny, Drellin thought as she recalled the odd but pleased look on Annon face. She had dared to say a pleasantry about the rabbits they ate, in front of him. His look had been a mixture of pleasure and surprise. There was also just a hint of pride, perhaps the kind only felt by a provider?

The dark night drew near and it was decided they would not ride on, but stay where they were for now. There were a few close trees and some bushes to offer a bit of protection from the weather. Annon lifted Talma to the ground and commanded him in a low, serious voice to gather wood. He pointed to a long-dead tree lying nearby. It had been struck by lightning some time ago and fallen down close to the path. It was already charred in a few places, but there were plenty of dead branches left. "Stay nearby." Annon's words were not to be questioned. Talma obediently went off and gathered the wood. He returned with a large armful, and Annon started a fire. The warm glow was more than a little welcoming. The three companions quickly gathered around its cheerful blaze.

The rain still threatened, but nothing so far. Drellin counted them all blessed and even lucky. In her mind, any day without the cold drizzle was a good day. She personally had enough rain, sleet, and snow for this winter. In fact, she had enough of the cold of winter in general, and dreamed of nothing but being warm. In this, southern land there were fewer places to take shelter. It was warmer but far more dangerous by Drellin's way of thinking.

Annon brought out tack bread from his saddle and offered it to the boy. There was very little, but he handed the remains to Drellin. She tried to decline, but he looked angry. Finally, she broke the remaining piece in half, and the unspoken argument was settled. He took it in his right hand then closed the empty bag. Annon would have to consider their food situation soon, for the boy at least. Besides, he did not like to go without when there was a city so close at hand.

There had been no game at all since they had passed the grand, stand of oaks. That set Annon on edge. He had not even seen birds as they had ridden throughout the next day. "This is a strange land," Annon mumbled. They were all quiet and too tired from the days travel to share stories.

Camped again on the side of the road, Drellin heard the boy's breathing become slow and even. He was fast asleep, wrapped tightly in Annon's heavy cloak.

The night closed in around them quickly. Drellin's eyes strayed from the fires glow to the fighter at her side. He was rock still, but he was not asleep. Drellin could tell that Annon was far too alert. Something was wrong. "Do you feel it?" He leaned over slightly without warning. He was close enough to whisper into her ear. He spoke low even for her range of hearing. There was an anxious tone in his question, and his body was unmistakably taught.

Closing her eyes, she listened with her whole being. Drellin once again used the lessons of Medelek. She knew Annon was not prone to worry unnecessarily. "Yes," Drellin replied low in answer. The hackles on the back of her neck had risen slightly, and she was now sure that there was, danger at hand. Drellin rose from her seat in a beautiful fluid motion and glanced at the boy. He was sound asleep. She moved calmly to his side and bent down to where he lay. Drellin placed her right hand over his mouth in case he cried out. Then she lightly shook him awake. His eyes opened, and he met her gaze. "Talma, stay here and be ready. Be sure the fire does not die out." His eyes were very wide and full of fear, but he kept silent. He did not try to scream, so she removed her hand. Talma sat up slowly and watched his companions.

Drellin rose to stand tall beside the boy. Her words to Talma were not a request but an order, he knew. She had not given him a chance to reply. Annon stood and immediately took a fighter's stance of readiness. His own hand strayed to his sword at his side and remained there. A quick glance from her and an unspoken plan was in place. Drellin went one direction and Annon the other. Out of the clearing and into the night. There was a certain comfort, knowing for the first time, she was on a hunt but not alone.

Soundlessly she crept toward the timbre of sound that had set her at odds. Then something only half seen jumped from behind a huge tree. It landed for only a moment and leaped into heavier bushes. It was a charn, Drellin was sure. The animal movements were unmistakable. More then that, it was an advance scout of some kind. Looking for what? Stray, unsuspecting travelers? Annon and the boy or perhaps more than likely Drellin, herself. It was possible that even she was the target? She had, after all, killed more than her share of the beasts in the last few days. Things must be worse then even the masters of the Maralan knew. Even one of the beasts, this far south? Troubling. They, the charn were getting all too brave.

Regardless of the reason, the creature would attempt to warn the others of their presence. The fact that she knew there would be others, left her cold inside to match the weather outside. There could be no time to waste. Drellin whistled low to Norban who heard her urgent call. He trotted out of the clearing in, answer. He went toward Drellin's direction. Talma was unsure if he should stay or go. He sat frozen and watched the horse leave. Drellin had made it clear he had to stay.

Norban was a welcome sight when he came through the trees along the rough path. She brushed his nose affectionately and leaped to his back. The real chase had now begun. Drellin must kill the scout before he returned to tell others of his find. That is one task she understood all too clearly. There was no time to tell Annon what had happened, he would have to trust on her return. A small part of her heart worried slightly

that he too may have found charn on the trail. She could not let her self get lost in the "what if," but had to stay focused on the moment. More than one of her skilled teachers had drummed that point into her head, at weapons practice. Drellin felt her blood begin to race, faster and faster. This is why the forest elders trained the runners. They were to keep the peace. Stopping charn from hurting and killing, was keeping the peace. It did not matter if that was in the north or south, lands. The oath was the same.

Annon returned to the clearing where Talma was anxiously waiting. He was still quiet and trying to pretend not to be afraid. In one hand he held a long stick at the ready. Annon thought it was a poor weapon. He would have to rectify that soon. "Hasn't Drellin returned?" Annon immediately noticed Norban was gone. "Where is the horse?" He walked several paces toward the fire and demanded an answer from the boy.

"I don't know, sir. The horse just left. Drellin did not come back!" Talma swallowed hard wondering if he should have stopped the beast from leaving after all. It was a tough choice to make between Annon's anger now or Drellin's later if he had disobeyed. Talma stood to lose in either direction. Somehow facing Drellin in Talma's mind would be harsher. Of course, he would never voice that to the big fighter.

Annon figured there was little he could do. Like the night at Lat's stable, Drellin had left again. He, himself had gone into the woods but did not find any sign of what had made him so concerned. Annon kicked himself for not prodding her a bit on the plan. Well, at least that is what he felt like, that it had been a plan. Sometimes he knew what she was thinking, or at least he thought he did. Perhaps he was just teasing himself that they were becoming a bit more than strangers to each other. He really had not known her long, Annon kept reminding himself. Yet, the amount of time did not matter to him in the end. He just enjoyed her company.

The fighter crossed the remaining space to the fire where the boy still stood and sat down heavily. He felt like something he had not detected or was unable to track was still out there. That same something felt very wrong. Drellin had to have seen the watcher and most probably went after him or it. Annon also knew that to chase after her, would do little good. Lat had made that clear the night they spent talking at the stable. At this point, if he dared to try, the boy would hinder his actions. Defeated, Annon would have to wait until dawn. That or until she returned.

Talma watched Annon. Even for a kid, he was smart enough to know not to ask too much. He slowly sat down across from the Annon and tried not to sleep. He wanted to help keep watch, but his eyes were like lead weights. Soon the dream master found him, and he was out. Annon continued to watch the forest for signs.

As Annon sat quietly, still has stone it came to him even stronger. He really missed her company. After an hour he actually had begun to worry Drellin might not return this time at all. He shook his head hard to rid the thought from his mind. "Be back by morning," Annon spoke out loud, in a calm tone. "We will wait for you here." Annon knew she could not hear him, but it felt good to say it, out loud anyway.

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Chapter Nine-For Money

Drellin rode rapidly through a surprisingly thick growth of trees. Her prey was close at hand. Her eyes had adjusted to the near complete black of the night. The stars all blocked out by clouds. Drellin's vision in this area was similar to that of a full blood elf, but the territory was strange and unnerving. Norban banked around a huge tree and Drellin's mind screamed inwardly in alarm. She saw the barest glint of a Wiren wire across her path. It was not more than a handful of paces ahead. Whoever had set the trap had placed it right, to catch a rider on horseback. It would tear her throat as easily as a finely sharpened sword. The width of it was not much more than a single hair. The length of it was stretched taut between two large trees on the path. It was nothing less than a small miracle that she had seen it at all.

Desperately Drellin jumped from Norban's back and landed hard against the cold, wet ground. She had missed the deadly wire by only a hands space. Drellin would pay for her acrobatics with severe bruises for sure. That was a good trade in her way of thinking, considering she nearly lost her life.

"Hail creature. You are most welcome." A thick, husky voice, filled with power, boomed out of the night. Drellin rolled to one side and twisted back around to obtain a clear view of the speaker. "I told Chak here," The big, ugly man pointed toward the rat man now curled up in a low stance of readiness. The thing was only a few paces away from where he stood himself. "I told him that you would not be hard to catch at all. I will be a rich man when you are sold. You are a real prize. You look so human I almost could not tell, you know?" The deep rumbling laugh that followed brought a chill to Drellin's insides. It was even colder then the foul weather she had come to hate daily.

Drellin regained her sense of balance and just a bit of her dignity. Then gathered her thoughts quickly, grimaced and replied, "You have not sold me yet!" There was an unmistakable, implied threat within her words. This was not the first bounty hunter she had crossed paths with in her travels.

"Be still or your friends you left behind in the clearing will pay the cost." The hunter watched for the result, the effect his words had upon his prey. He had been correct. The man and the boy had meant something to the animal before him. That was unique and unusual for one such as her. There was power in that one fact. The man intended to push his advantage. It would be the key to keeping her quiet and a docile victim.

"What do you mean?" Drellin's tone dripped with venom and the idea of sliting this man's throat slowly consumed her. He was only a few paces away. Drellin pondered to herself, the possibilities. That was not a great distance. But, he was so very sure of himself? It would be his undoing if she worked it right. Greed had filled his eyes and made him blind to the danger of his overconfidence. The hunter fumbled with a slaves' collar carelessly at his waist with one hand. He was taking a moment to daydream about his future riches. Confidence, or in this case overconfidence was his demise.

The hunter boasted, "Your companions are by now, surrounded by shadow riders. That is to say at least that what they will call themselves. I was in Mayir days ago. I know you went willingly with Pranl and his men so your companions will not be too worried. They will accept them. Actually, they are raiders, my raiders." The full, hearty laugh that followed his statement made Drellin sick inside. He was probably right. Drellin had even told Annon some of what had happened to her on that short journey a few days ago. She had not particularly said the shadow riders were friends, but she did give the impression they were enemies either. Drellin also knew that Annon was an experienced fighter. He would not readily accept any stranger at his word. Their, own friendship had been a bit unique. Drellin would have to trust to Annon's suspicious nature.

Back in the clearing, Annon stood quickly as several riders openly rode into the small camp. He silently cursed himself for having fallen asleep. Days without real rest and trying to wait up all night for Drellin's return had caught up with the man. It was just before dawn, but he could see the strangers all clearly enough. They were dressed in black riding gear. The men did not bear their weapons out for a fight. They attempted to be friendly. Annon's instinct told him clearly things were not as they should be. Drellin had been right about his first impression.

"Hail friend." The first rider called out directly to Annon.

Annon did not want to alert this new enemy of his suspicions. He tried to match their friendly tone. "Who are you, strangers?" That was pleasant enough to his, own ears. Annon hoped it sounded the same to theirs. There were twelve men in all Annon counted, spread out. They were behind him, in front of him and to both sides. Each one that he could see clearly was armed with a sword at least, and a few even had bows. Talma's eyes were wide, but he stayed quiet. The horses had been loud in their arrival, and that had wakened him. One look at Annon told him silence was the right response.

"I am Ban. These are my companions." The tallest man nearest to Annon replied to his question. He was perhaps the best dressed of the mob, but that did not raise his status by much.

"What business do you have here?" Annon replied low, with his best manners showing. His inside alarms were ringing all too loudly. Annon could take the man out for sure. He would be dead on the ground easily, breathing his last breath just before his two comrades nearest him had joined their leader there in the mud. Annon thought he might even be able to handle as much as two others with some speed, but ultimately that would leave Talma to fend for himself. The boy in the mix changed the rules of engagement and sadly the current possible outcome of this meeting. Annon realized grimly that these men were counting on that factor.

"Your friend, the girl sent us. We are here to take you back to her now." The welcome grin on the man's face could not hide his true intentions. Annon had come across his kind before. A thug is a thug, no matter how well dressed.

Annon realized there were just too many of them surrounding himself and the boy at this time. There was no other choice but to play along for the moment. "Okay, we will go with you." The fighter motioned for Talma to gather their things. He gave a few brief instructions to gather Drellin's blanket and such as well. Then he mounted Morgane and pulled the boy up behind him. Annon noticed the youth was shaking slightly but said nothing. He patted Talma's hand reassuringly as it went around his own waste to hold on for the ride ahead.

"Perhaps you are right about the fighter. Perhaps you are not?" Drellin began again to banter with the ugly man. She was buying time. Then as she knew she would, Drellin saw Norban. Drellin's unexpected dismount had surprised him just a little. Now, however, he had returned. The smell of the charn was enough for him to know there was danger at hand. The great beast waited, only a few yards from the little space on the path, where she still lay on the ground. "Perhaps Ban, this raider you speak of, will succeed in his disguise. I would not wager a great deal of money on that if I were you." Pursing her lips tightly together, she whistled so high the charn screeched in pain. The great horse bolted forward in, answer. The rat man had no chance to move before Norban's mighty hooves bared down upon him.

The bounty hunter who hadn't been expecting this new twist of fate was also taken off guard. Pressed to desperation she took advantage of the moment, gained her feet and bounded toward the revolting man. Drellin knocked him easily to the ground and shoved his own knife deep into his chest. The blade had been teasing her, hanging loosely at his belt the whole time, with the promise of freedom on the tip. She killed him quickly, wishing she had more time to deal with this hunter of flesh properly. There were however more important matters and time was not on her side. Drellin rose from the man's bloody body to her feet and called Norban's name sweetly.

The huge horse had finished smashing the overgrown rodent into the mud and trotted proudly to her side. She mounted, stroked his main affectionately and kicked his flanks. They had to move fast now.

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Chapter Ten-Rescue

Drellin backtracked down the trail that led her to this meeting, this trap in the first place. She was a bit surprised as to how far she had actually come in the night. Cautiously, she entered the clearing where Annon and Talma should have been and her heart sank, for it was empty. In the gray morning light, there were no signs of battle, that she could see. At least they might still be alive. That is what Drellin was counting on.

The bounty hunter's threats were sharp like that of a steel knife in her heart. Had the raider's been successful in their ruse? She dared not let herself believe that. Annon was an experienced fighter. He would not easily be deceived. She had to continue to count on that belief. Drellin swiftly searched the surrounding trees and soon found the trail the band had taken away into the forest. Drellin counted eighteen riders in all. Annon would not have endangered the boy by fighting against those numbers. That explained why there was no battle. Annon would buy time. She would have to act quickly to help them both. Time in this instance was her direct enemy. It would take all her resources to free her companions.

Annon rode next to Ban near the front of the group. They continued on along the tree-lined corridor far into the late hours of the morning. Their path was a winding trail north, back in nearly the same direction Annon, Drellin and Talma had come only yesterday. The only difference was they now followed an animal path, a hunting trail. Annon wondered who they might be trying to avoid? Soon enough, the group stopped at the command of Ban. He held up his hand high and motioned to those behind them. The four that still rode in the front went off the trail in different directions. Annon figured they would be the chief scouts for the party.

"Come, my new friend, we shall set the camp here for a while, and rest," Ban spoke to Annon directly. Then he barked a few quick orders to his men. They complied within reason, but not too quickly. On the surface, Annon thought it seemed like any other band of warriors he had ridden with in the past, but there were sure signs that it was not true. Maybe they were on their best behavior, but this loose group of marauders were not a real unit. They grumbled too much between themselves and the hard looks they gave Ban, said more then open words of descent could. That kind of bad feeling and lack of loyalty was reflective more in a common bond between thieves.

"We do not need the rest. I want to go to where Drellin is without delay." Annon suddenly regretted calling her by name. It had not clearly occurred to him until now that this man had never spoken it to him. He did not know it. That was just one more thread of truth to the situation that told Annon he was right about these strangers. Ban had other plans for himself and the boy. What those plans were could not bode well for Annon or Talma. If all of that were true, where was Drellin? Had they done something to her? That thought made him angry. Really angry. It was difficult to hide. But necessary.

"We will be there soon. Do not worry. She told me herself that it was very important to bring you. Now come, let us set the camp and take a short rest. There may be charn in the area." Ban nearly smirked with the final comment about rat men. Annon got the impression that this leader did not fear the beasts. After seeing the damage the creatures did at the settlement days earlier, Annon had a, pretty good respect for the harm they could bring. Either Ban was just plain stupid, or he had some other information that made him at ease. What would make him okay with the charn? How could anyone want to be okay with animals that killed people?

Annon helped Talma to slide down from behind him, off his horse. The look in the boy's eyes said everything as they met his own, directly. Everything from "I'm afraid," to "What should I do?" was unvoiced, but clearly conveyed. Talma was brave, Annon had no doubt. He was just young, inexperienced and untrained. It was possible even if he had, fighting experience to still be afraid. That just made his current actions of quiet reserve and patient compliance an act of courage. Annon had never been that great with kids, but he did his best to look calm, relaxed and unworried. It was the best that he could do for the moment to assure Talma all would be well.

A few of the men gathered some wood and started a fire. Others moved out of the clearing to set a parameter or safe zone. Funny thing Annon thought, "The real question, who were they really keeping safe?" Annon never took his eyes off of Ban. He was the smart one if there was a smart one? "Cut off the head, and the snake dies," Annon remembered his weapon's instructor ages ago. He was not talking about animals on the ground, either.

Ban was busy talking to a few of his riders. Then he turned back to Annon. "The boy can stay here with my men. Come, you and I need to talk." Ban motioned the fighter to follow him in the same direction on foot, down the trail the scouts had left by.

Annon was torn. The obvious invitation was a plan to part him from the boy. There was also no sign help was coming from anywhere. He feared that Drellin must have fallen prey last night and these men knew it too. In the end, he figured it would actually be easier to deal with a few of them at a time. To confront them as a group would surely cost Talma his life. He rolled it over in his mind several more times. No matter how hard Annon thought, he could not see a plan, a way to prevent that outcome. Following Ban might hold the answer.

"Talma, stay with my horse. You are in charge of him now. I will be back soon." The last word Annon stressed with his eyes. The word, "Soon," provided a certain level of encouragement to the boy. Yes, Talma was afraid, but he did not say a thing. Instead, Talma shook his head, he understood.

Ban was already at the edge of the clearing by the time Annon had finished his instructions to the boy. He turned there, on one heel and waited for Annon to join him. The raider was pleased with himself. The arrogant stance he took reflected his condescending mood. The plan had gone well so far, and there was no reason to think it would not continue to do so. "You will be back." The leader assured Annon in an all too syrupy voice. Ban did not say if Annon would be back, dead or alive. He did, however, think it too himself. Ban waited only long enough for Annon to reach him and then turned back to face the forest.

The leader of the rabble, fake riders led the way in front of Annon. He went down the pathway two or three hundred paces. Annon followed close behind. This was so obvious a trap that Annon believed these raiders must be used to dealing with witless victims. The fighter left his great sword on his mount. It was not the only blade he owned. Annon was well armed even now. Leaving his larger weapon was sure to make Ban all the more comfortable at being able to kill Annon. That is exactly how he wanted him to feel.

"Where are we going now? What did you want to talk to me about?" Annon knew the moment was at hand. They had walked a long way. His experienced years of fighting had enabled him to detect the two men stalking them. They were klutzes and made enough noise to wake the dead. Annon figured they were all like pack wolves. They felt safe in numbers.

"In answer to your question, no place really, I guess. You see I did not want to alarm the boy. When you don't come back with me, he will be alone. I can handle him much easier then. He will bring a nice price. He is so young." Ban turned around to face Annon directly. He had drawn the short, dirty blade he had kept at his side. Ban held it out in a menacing manner with a grin proudly displayed on his ugly features.

"What do you intend to do with that?" Annon asked politely. He had already loosened his own long blade as they had walked through the trees. In the space of a single beat, Annon pulled his weapon. It was a rune blade. It had a history. The history of its making was complex. The essence of the tale held magic at its very core. More then that magic it had been a personal gift from his father. That was yet another part of its importance. He had promised to never be without it. Annon had never liked magic in general, but he needed all the help he could get against the odds. He was glad he had made the promise.

Then they came at him. Ban knew suddenly that this business was not going to be quite as easy as he had counted on to finish. The trap, however, had sprung, but on who? The predator or the prey was the question? There were three riders now attacking Annon including the leader. The lack of much space where Ban had stopped had served to be an advantage to Annon, the experienced fighter. Not to his enemies. They could not all quite get at him at the same time, even as they tried. The battle continued for several moments.

Finally, Annon stood alone in the forest. Bodies lay strewn half hazardously across the ground. Ban had an unpleasant empty look, set forever upon his face, which was now lifeless. Blood had splattered up and over Annon's own body. He longed for a warm bath and permitted a moment of slight regret. Annon could not remember being clean and well fed since he had left his father's house on the Isle of Kings. He had taken much in life for granted. He needed to remember that lesson. Annon had always longed for adventure while in the comfort of his childhood home. He surely had achieved that desire by now. However, the old adage wanting is better than having was all too real sometimes. Annon did not care to admit.

Drellin starred intently out over the valley below. From her high, vantage point on the ridge, she could see everything. Talma, the boy was in the clearing below. A bright fire burned high and intensely near him. Drellin noticed that Morgane, Annon's steed stood close to Talma. The raiders seemed to keep a bit of a distance from the horse at least. In addition, Drellin could pick out the two men which, were set to guard Talma, easily. They were trying to keep a low profile. Neither acted like he wanted to make any overt moves in the boy's direction. They were more like guards, waiting for instructions. Drellin figured that they were not taking any chances. It had to be because of the horse. If Annon did not return, they would kill the mount to get to the boy. There would be no choice. A steel-shod warhorse was worth much on the open market. The problem was that few of the greats beasts could ever be retrained after the passing of their masters. Collecting on their value was difficult at best.

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Chapter Eleven-Unleashed

An hour passed. Then two. No sign of Annon. A second, group of raiders joined the original set while Drellin sat helplessly, watching. She was not sure now if Annon still lived or not? It did not matter in the end. Drellin knew she had to deal with what she could see before her, and soon. The encampment was swarming with the evil men. It had gone from a small assembly to a serious threat. The problem was out of hand. It would be impossible for her to attack alone and win out against such odds, so she continued to wait.

Several hours had dwindled away. No one seemed to have missed the man she left dead, in the mud. Maybe he was not yet due back? The boy lay sleeping at Morgane's feet. Most of the men in camp were talking among themselves or sharing food at the fire. There were now many, and they were not particularly afraid of being found. They felt confident in their numbers. Drellin noted, there was only a handful spread about, on guard. She made a mental note of the location of each one. Still, Drellin waited and watched the scene below, soundlessly. Time dragged by. Something, whatever she was going to do, would have to be done soon.

Drellin truly hated the only choice she had before her. She rarely called on other runners for anything. Then only at the behest of her teacher. This was different. This was beyond obedience to a forest elder. This was personal. Drellin could think of no other way. The second problem was the distance from the stand of white oaks? Drellin wondered if her call would even be heard? She stood up, tall and straight, having made a final decision in the matter.

The runner then spoke in the ancient tongue. She closed her eyes and focused hard, "Where are you Karrendek? Where has the wind blown you to my friend? Let it now call your name! Hear me and answer me. Come to my call. I need you! Come to my call." Then Drellin looked up at the sky and spoke the same words again. By her stance and facial expression an onlooker would have surmised, Drellin expected the very forest to hear her and reply. The words in the old speech were nearly, forgotten by this world. Only a handful of runners honored to keep them alive. Those that truly understood still heard the music. They grasped the power held within the melody. That is to say, those that listened to the wind as she did.

Drellin stood very still. She dared not break the unseen connection she now wove in the air. Like a fine fabric, she clothed herself in the essence of the song. Then, finally. Drellin felt it in her heart, she had been answered. A breeze. A message without a voice, only a feeling but it was enough. Help was on the way. It would take time still, as the closeness she felt was just an illusion. However, Karrendek could and would travel at great speed. It would not be, long. Karrendek would gather by Drellin's call that her need was dire.

The runner was extremely tired. It had also cost her a great favor of which she had few to call in. Annon was more important to Drellin then she dared let herself believe. He had accepted her companionship without question. He did not treat her different. The boy was important to him, and Drellin was not ready to let either one down.

The wind continued to whisper meaningless words to Drellin. It was just pieces of things and conversations from afar. The trees above her head swayed slightly back and forth slowing as the soundless music faded. There was no more magic there or hidden message. The clouds were still black overhead, and the cold refused to leave her in peace. Even here this far south, it did not seem to let up by much. Like the very hand of death, it clutched at her body and made her ache, inside and out. Drellin did not move from her vantage point. She still starred relentlessly down into the clearing.

Karrendek had answered, Drellin was sure. He would come, and he would bring the followers, the "Forlorn". They would come like shadows from another time. They would come from the dark place. Karrendek had been her father's true friend. They had fought in the Blind Wars, before this era. It had been a time in this land's history when the alliance between true bloods' and the followers of the light, were considered allies.

Karrendek had been named Tallen. That was the name for a watcher, a protector. Karrendek was Tallen of Drellin's life, the day she had been born. He was Drellin's guardian according to her father's wishes. That was the connection. A blood bond between her father and his friend. They had served together. On the same side. Drellin's father was a pureblood. Karrendek was not. Karrendek promised and swore to protect Drellin. It was a bad time. Only a handful of years after that promise was made, Drellin's father crossed over to the Ice Lands. He was never to be seen again.

The ones that came with Karrendek would be mere shadows. Not like the warriors of Pranl's tribe. These would be very different indeed. They would be illusions or what some considered wraths. Dead themselves, they could not be killed. They swarmed and consumed their victims. They made grown men insane. They made them fight each other. They made them kill each other. These beings were the lost ones. The Forlorn. Drellin knew this too well and a terrible icy shiver ran up her spine at the memory of this knowledge. She had not called for Tallen lightly.

A mighty crack of lightning and a deafening roll of thunder broke the quiet. The sky, still full of clouds was announcing winter was far from over. Night had taken the land, and the sky was starless. The electricity that was building in the air all around, felt strange and disturbing. One would easily believe it was unnatural. Drellin turned from her vantage point of the valley below, to face the forest behind her. She had continued her vigil until now. Drellin's eyes adjusted with the return of the deep darkness and she had to quail, her own inner apprehension. The site before her was nightmarish even in the lowlight. All around Drellin, misty half-formed shapes danced. They were everywhere.

By forest law, Drellin would lead them. They would each take their share of the men's' lives below. These half beings were sworn warriors from her father's time. They died in un-rest. They died in the Blind War. They died cheated of victory and refusing to abandon their sworn duty. Thus they were trapped, ever trying to achieve an un-full-fill-able mission. This was their blessing and their bane. Calling Tallen had been a last resort. The same could be said for having called them. This was her only chance to save the boy. She was going to make sure it happened.

The dark one had sent armies against the protectors of the north long ago. When his forces lost he would not concede. He then unleashed horrible plagues to finish the job. The battles had been fought head-on. That was the truth of the Blind War. The warriors and protectors of the north had willingly lived and died. Yet they had been cheated, not allowed to move on. Evil had tricked them and stolen they're peaceful forever.

The sickness and ultimate outcome from the plague had been horrific. Far beyond even the nightmare of death, was the nightmare of eternal death. The sickness had not allowed them true passing but changed them. It cheated them of something unexpressed by words. The unleashed plague of immortal, eternal death was a reward from the Dark One for their efforts to stop him.

Evil in the world must be fought by good men, of all races. Men without morals, that act like serpents deserve no mercy. Men like the ones in the clearing below. The outlaws, slavers, and scum that would trade flesh for money were the enemies then and the enemies now. The Blind war had truly never ended. A villain had been put down, but evil still continued. Now the very plague the Dark One had used against the north would be used against the wicked.

The encampment came completely alive at the abrupt crack of the great Thunder Whip. It was the weapon of her Paladin father. It was long, made from the leather of a real dragon's hide or so it was said. It had been trimmed with razor-sharp metal studs, to mark the passing of each owners life. It's length measured in the history of lives given in the pursuit of justice. It was also more than useful in the taking of lives. The outlaws leaped to defend themselves, but it was a pitiful defense. They had grown in numbers throughout the night as more scouts and raiding parties joined the original group. Numbers, were not an advantage in this case. It made them careless, by adding a false sense of security. Drellin had last counted them at close to eight or even nine score, but it did not and would not make any difference. Dawn had brought a storm far greater than the weather. It had brought down a rain of death to the raiders.

Drellin raced in riding hard on Norban's broad back, killing two on the outer edge before bounding into the open circle. One of the men across the fire from Talma let out a terrible scream as he spotted Karrendek. He had arrived in perfect timing to Drellin's attack. The beast was a man-boar mutation. It charged into the fray like a hungry wolf diving upon fresh meat. It was one thing to fight against the malformed wraiths at Drellin's side, but the new threat was even more twisted and deformed. This kind of animal was rarely if ever seen in the open lands of men. Superstition alone fed the fear that consumed all the raiders that laid eyes upon it. That coupled with the ghost beings, brought sheer panic onto all the barbarians equally.

Annon had waited in the deep wood all night. He had counted the raiders numbers again and again and could not yet see a clear way to help Talma. Annon was glad he had left his horse behind. The boy must be petrified, and he prayed that Morgane brought some comfort. He thought it sad that they barely missed their leader, Ban? He must have had other business besides killing Annon, so his presence had not yet been an issue. Annon had taken the time to hide Ban's body carefully, along with the others, but thought now that it had been a waste of time. These low-end fighter barbarians could not have found them, with half the effort he had spent. Annon shook his shoulders and figured it was better to have been safe than sorry.

The awesome bolt of lightning had been more of a wake-up alarm then Annon was used too. The tremendous rumble that followed made the ground shake just a little. This land was prone to incredible, harsh and driving storms. Annon dared allow himself a brief thought, a memory of home. Sunny and warm, it was far away. Annon pushed that aside He focused again on the clearing. He watched for signs of Drellin or a way to help the kid. The storm was on top of them. It was growing. The clouds were going to let loose. That was good. Confusion helps when your numbers are small.

A mighty crack, again. This one different. Wait? This one was very different. It was extremely reminiscent of the Thunder Whip, Drellin's weapon of choice. Could it be her? The sound did not insight fear in Annon but made him nearly jump with joy. Drellin was possibly still alive. That one point was worth holding on to. He moved closer to the main clearing with stealth and speed. Annon killed a guard on the way to his destination. The man just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Oh and not doing a very good job. Obviously. Annon thought it a stroke of real luck. There had been a bow and quiver full of arrows on the man's back. Of course, they were now in Annon's experienced hands. The dead raider would find little use of them anyway.

The brave fighter reached the clearing swiftly where Talma was held. Annon scanned the scene with practiced alertness. An explosion of rage fell upon the camp. Annon saw Drellin. She was incredible, beautiful and deadly. Mounted on Norban, fierce as any fighter he had ever known. The woman was surrounded by a mist that swirled back and forth as if it were alive. The raiders immediately responded and leaped for their weapons.

Then Annon laid eyes upon the beast. Of all the possible foes including the slavers, the beast was by far the most dangerous. Annon put a shaft to the bow he held in hand and drew back. He aimed with skill and let go the projectile. The arrow struck deep, Annon could tell. The beast screamed almost humanly as it penetrated the thing's broad chest. The bolt was true and did not miss the mark.

Talma recovered from his own fear, just long enough to see Drellin on Norban heading his way. It heartened him to see her. Talma gathered his own courage and dismissed his fright the best he could. Then he brought out the learners whip Drellin had given him. He gathered his courage. Talma lashed out with it. He did not kill anyone but landed a couple of excellent blows on slavers otherwise engaged in fights for their own lives. Then he too saw the beast and noticed the arrow protruding from its body. He remembered the story of how Drellin had killed the big cat back at Moreer. Annon had told him the tale one night as they had traveled together. Drellin did not believe in letting any creature suffer, the boy was sure. So he aimed the whip at the beast. Talma did not miss. If by accident or fate the outcome was the same. Talma's aim caught the creature around the neck. It wrapped tight and cut off it's air. Busy in battle with the enemy at hand, and the wound in his chest, Karrendek took a dozen more down with him, then died.

The clearing was filled with chaos. In every direction, the sound of swordplay, the solemn singing sound of battle, filled the air. Heads rolled, and blood soaked the ground like red rain. Soon, the raiders still left alive retreated half hazardously in all directions. They ran for their lives. Like charn without a leader, they were nothing less than animals.

The wraiths that had been summoned now drifted off like dry, dead leaves. Then like magic, they vanished altogether into nothingness. They were apparently satisfied by their labors. They took with them, trophies to keep. It was a gruesome payment for services rendered. It made Drellin's stomach hurt, and the open sore on her heart would probably never mend within the remaining years of her life. In fact, she would doubtlessly carry it with her even into the nether world, she was sure. The price had been high, but her choices had been few. At least the outcome, the safety of Talma's life had been secured in the bargain.

Annon half walked, and half sprinted into the camp. He still clutched the bow he had taken from the fallen guard in his right hand. In one look he took grim notice of several men he had killed with it. Annon also knew he had killed the creature. It was still.

Drellin did not have to see Karrendek's body where it lay prone on the mud. She had felt his passing some time during the battle. His spirit had touched hers in farewell as it departed into the nether world. Burning tears now filled Drellin's eyes. The boar-man had saved her life. She had not been altogether sure he would answer her on the cleft last night. It had been so long since their paths had crossed. The bond had been stronger then she thought between them without doubt. Now sadly Karrendek was gone. His blood was dark upon her own hands for he had risked all, for her.

Drellin slid from Norban's back and went to kneel beside Karrendek's body. Annon and Talma both stood patiently by and watched her carefully. Drellin rolled Tallen over so she could see her guardian's face. It had been the face of a friend. An asset she had in short supply by any accounting. It was the twisted features of a beast the full bloods' called, nothing short of animal. Annon or Talma could not have known he came to save Talma at her call. He was a creature and that made him an enemy to them both.

Drellin's time with Annon had made her forget who she was for a while. There was a difference between her kind and theirs that would never go away. Drellin was vividly reminded not to overlook that point again.

Tears continued down her cheeks unchecked. She did not sniffle, or cry out loud. There was just the wetness. It did not matter to Drellin what they thought as Annon and Talma waited. She knelt down next to the beast-man's body. Ever so slowly, she traced the scars left by Talma's whip. Then she caressed his brow. Her gentle hand moved down to the arrow wound deep in his wide chest. She had been responsible for Karrendek's demise. If it were not for her, he would not be here. Drellin also knew he was at peace. No one would hunt him where his spirit had gone. A small part of her envied him just a little.

Drellin dared to stay a few more moments. Then before too many questions grew for her to handle, she bent down and kissed his thick brow softly. "Peace my friend, I will meet you soon." The last part of that sentence she knew without too much doubt to be true. The quest set before her by Shendar to retrieve Balor's Ax from Bracar was hazardous. It was a suicide mission. She did not lie to herself, about her chances of success. That would be futile indeed. After all, Drellin was many things and a realist was high on that list.

Depression and sorrow lay upon her heart like a bruise that would never heal. It would just have to be lived with. Drellin could not remember warm days. She could not remember the sun on the green leaves. Drellin thought, at least going south should have proved to be warmer? It did not as yet. Drellin even voiced a low curse as she stood. She truly hated the winter. Talma continued to be quiet. He knew more about loss then he wanted to for a boy of his years. The fact that this creature had been Drellin's friend was clear. The fact that he had helped kill the animal made him sick.

Drellin could not begin to explain her relationship with Karrendek. No matter what it was, Annon and the boy would never understand it. She was after all a runner and her companions were not.

Drellin looked at both of them as she stood. Annon started to say something but stopped himself, cold. She broke the moment and answered his unspoken question. "No. We do not need to bury his body. Let us go now. This place will feed many soon. It is the way of things." Annon agreed without much effort. He hated taking a life of any kind. He was very glad that Talma was safe and that Drellin lived. The fact that he had killed the beast and that it had been connected to her in some way, weighed upon him. It puzzled him a little to think she knew or even controlled such as his kind. His amazement was not tainted by prejudice but powered by awe.

Annon mounted Morgane and reached his hand down to Talma who swiftly took his place on the saddle behind the man. Drellin mounted Norban, and they rode together out onto the clean path ahead. Mud yes. But mud not seeped in blood was a comfort. The smell of death stayed with them for a short time but soon lost its harsh hold on their senses.

As they rode into the cold morning, the sky still held her bounty. Drellin tapped her inner pouch pocket. The jewel she had received from the elf was still safely tucked inside. Drellin was thankful for a moment of peace. She found herself going back over her meeting with the elf in the deep woods days ago. She remembered what the elf had said clearly before he died, "There is a place of peace." Drellin not only hoped he was right, she was counting on it. Soundlessly she yelled in her own mind, "Where?"

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Chapter Twelve-Bracar

The storm never did let loose upon the travelers. The heaviest clouds had continued north. The water they held would dump in the highlands causing flash floods and damage to the unwary. The remaining blanket was lighter and not so threatening. Their little band as a whole had taken full advantage of the change in the weather.

Annon, Drellin, and Talma moved quickly after leaving the slavers camp, along the path to Bracar. No one said anything. They gained back a marginal amount of the time they had lost. Together, they finally felt safe enough to take a short respite. They stopped by a wide, shallow, slow-moving river. It was good to wash the smell of death off. Well, wash as best they could. All tried hard to remove blood stains. The sad fact, for Drellin being clean completely, would never happen.

Drellin joined in with Talma and Annon at the river bank, but Drellin had only succeeded in handling her physical appearance. The stains of guilt and sorrow that touched her deep inside were permanent. She would carry them the rest of her life. Drellin did not think that was likely to be long if things went badly in Bracar. No one talked about the attack. No one wanted to ever speak again of what they had seen or done. Some things were best left in silent denial.

Drellin had a funny thought as she peered into the icy water. The rest of her life would not be too long indeed. Her quest was extremely dangerous and her chance of success was poor. However, Drellin did not voice her inner reflections. There was no need to share her thoughts with her companions. They would be safe that way, no matter how things came out for her in the end.

As for the companions, the weather had made the going just a little easier. The ground had begun to dry. The sun during the day or stars at night peeked out between the cover above them. Again and again, it would happen, but never for long. Winter had a very tight grasp on the north. She was a brutal master.

It had taken four more long days of camping and hard riding to get this far down the path. It would never be far enough away from the nightmare memory, in Drellin's mind. She tried hard not to dwell on it and focus instead on the quest at hand.

The grand City of Bracar lay quiet below the darkening pre-dusk sky. Quiet for a big city that is. Bracar was the largest city Drellin or Talma had ever seen. There were many lights and fires blinking in and out, here and there in the distance below. It was a pretty site from where their small party had stopped to rest, on a gentle rise nearly straight out from the north gate. It had been a good choice by Annon. They were still seven, or eight spans ride out, but close enough to cover the open country in a short period of time.

That would come, tomorrow. Annon knew they needed to stop for now. The boy was obviously tired and Drellin looked beat. As for himself, he could not quite remember the last time he slept with both eyes completely shut. Pushing them just to get to Bracar to find an inn would be a mistake. They were at their limit. Or at least Annon felt the boy was. Not himself of course. He was a man. He could go on forever. Drellin. Well, that was still a question. She appeared to be just like any other woman he had met. Well not really. Any other warrior woman, if he had ever met a warrior woman, might be a better comparison. Yes, she was tired. It showed. But he was also sure she could take on anything that crossed their path.

A couple of times Annon had slowed their progress. Talma was better. Basically, he had recovered from the injuries he received back at Moreer. That was thanks to Drellin of course. There was no need for knocking themselves out just to get there. Drellin would not agree. She would also not say why. It was her right to have her own personal business, but Annon was annoyed. Of course, they were traveling together, because they happen to be going the same way. That was how it all started. Right? Yet, Annon thought by now it was way more than that. So he conceded to whatever she wanted.

The road to get here had been all but empty of travelers. They had seen no one since the battle. For himself, Annon was thankful for that. They had passed a tiny village a few spans back. It was only a handful of huts and a small inn. It had all been burned down and abandoned. The scene had not been fresh, but it was not that old either. Annon had more than his fill of strangers and would be friends. By the condition of the road they had followed since the white oaks, Annon guessed going north was not the destination of choice. Not for pilgrims, monks', traders or adventurers'. It was never really much better than an animal path at best. As for Annon's time so far in this land, he had found the north-country fairly fraught with danger. The south? Well, that was still to be determined.

The City of Bracar was right there in front of them. Talma looked on the site with anticipation. He was a young man, and the world was huge. Yes, he had lost much to be where he was now. But for a kid that never knew of anything beyond the bounds of his little village, this moment was life-changing. As for Annon, this was simply a small stop, toward his goal to find what? A purpose, a feeling of worth for the fifth son of a King? How could he prove his measure? It was a quest. Maybe one that had no answer. Annon did not voice any of his thoughts, out loud or admittedly to himself directly. It was more like a feeling, a hunger. An emptiness.

The group, more like kin then they knew, stopped. Together on the side of the road, they camped. At first, they spoke only in low voices, near whisper level. Then a calm came. The night was cold but did not bring the killing frost. For a tiny space of time, Drellin knew what it was to be happy. Annon tasted acceptance for just being Annon. A kid who had lost everything found family.

Talma, had ridden behind Annon on his great black horse nearly the entire journey. He had said little. The adventure alone on the trail from the settlement to now had been scary, terrible and grand all at the same time. Added to that, the death of so many and the constant danger of the unknown had subdued his adventurous side quite a bit. Drellin had become used to being with them both, riding Norban ever at their side. It was the first time in her life she had let herself become emotionally close to anyone. Well as close as she could. Lat was still important to her. This was different.

When Drellin slid from Norban's back, she noticed Talma's features in the remaining starlight. The boy was nearly a man in many ways, she thought. He had grown older somehow. It had happened too quickly due to all the events of the past few days. This journey had forced him to be more than he was at every turn.

Talma was obviously exhausted, but his fixed stare at the city walls below carried a potent sense of enthusiasm, none the less. He had never before been any further than the township of Mayir. In his short life, things had moved swiftly. The charn had changed everything. That small settlement of his youth felt even smaller now. Talma tried to take in the sheer size of Bracar. It stretched out before him far into the distance. To the youth it was nearly overwhelming. Twinkling fires like stars on the ground danced brightly. Talma fought to keep his eyes open. He was so tired.

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Chapter Thirteen-Brother of My Father

The sun was rising ever so slowly in the east and the last of the incredible blanket of lights disappeared. The bustle of the day had begun. There was a hum. A rhythm in the air that Drellin empathetically picked up. It was the combined sound of thousands of people, living and working in the same place. Drellin thought is was similar to a monstrous heartbeat. It was a terrible, horrible sound. Not comforting at all. Giant anything's' were always hungry and rarely cared what was on the menu.

Drellin was not excited. Perhaps if things were different that would be too. The city, any city always held death for half-breeds and mongrels. Only purebloods were welcome. This was common knowledge among those such as her self. She was mixed of course. True, it was not easily detectable by her appearance, but that did not change the fact. Her fear was one thing, her task was another. Shendar, her teacher, had ordered her to come here. She was to retrieve Balor's ax.

The Red Paladin had been a fool to enter Bracar in the first place, Drellin thought. He had been too trusting. He held too much hope in his heart. Drellin knew a lot about the man. Her father had often spoken his name with honor. Balor had listened to the promises from the king's messengers one too many times. Balor longed for peace between the humans and the runners. That promise of peace so long desired and prayed for by so many, was no more than a trap. It had drawn Balor in by preying upon his emotions and his dreams. It had also killed him with its deceiving power to sway. The southern kingdoms were all known for their hate.

Shendar had been very explicit in the importance of the ax. The weapon had a long history. The magnitude of its symbolism was not lost upon Drellin in the least. There was still some true magic left in the world, in places and in things. Balor's ax was one of those things. She touched her hand lightly to her father's whip at her side and knew there too was magic of a kind. She did not like the essence of that meaning, but it was Drellin's legacy left to her by her father. She accepted it. That right there was the end of it. Cities had always brought her ill tidings. Shendar had asked and that was the same as a demand to her. Drellin would complete the task.

Bracar itself began to come to life before Drellin's eyes. She watched mesmerized by the masses. Even from this distance, it pulsed with energy.

There was at least one good thing about the day. The morning sun, burst through the cover above. It was truly beautiful. It was the first day the clouds released their titan grip upon the land. Drellin found herself basking in its rays, lost in the moment. Its very presence seemed to help chase the remaining clouds westward.

Talma lay nearby on the ground wrapped tightly in her blanket. He looked so very peaceful, Drellin thought it was a shame to wake him. They needed to be on the move. It was quite late already. For Drellin at least, a quest was at hand and she needed to keep going.

Annon had sat down beside her at some point just after dawn. He had fallen asleep sitting straight up against a great grey stone. He too looked peaceful, if a bit uncomfortable, Drellin thought to herself. She half wondered, "What his homeland must be like? What his life there must have been?" Thus far his heart was so accepting of her presence it had taken her off guard. More importantly, his attitude toward her was that of a true equal. It had unbalanced her way of thinking. He had done more than just gain her trust, he had gained her loyalty and without her consent, Drellin's love. She blushed to think she dared to care for the man. Perhaps in another lifetime she could have called him mate. There could have been a life joining, a forever promise. Here and now that would not happen, so she did not let herself dwell too heavily on that dream. Some things were just not possible.

She stood and stretched her limbs in the golden sunlight. Silently she gathered her things and packed her saddlebags. That is all except for her blanket. Drellin waited as long as possible, before shaking Talma and waking him from his deep sleep. He gave her a huge grin. "Good morning. Are we going to Bracar now?" The boy's enthusiasm was written all over his face in the form of a wide smile.

"Yes, we are going to the City of Bracar now." She tried to smile back in turn. Drellin found herself somehow jealous of the boy. If it were not so dangerous, she too would probably have felt his excitement. Instead, Drellin fought a growing ache in the pit of her stomach. She moved across the camp a few paces, back to Annon's side and touched his shoulder lightly. He came fully awake immediately. "We are fine. All is well." Drellin did smile this time. Her soft response told Annon all that he needed to know. They were safe. Well for at least the moment.

Annon's dreams had been filled with enemies, but they were just dreams or rather nightmares. They were not real. There were plenty of real enemies in the waking hours of the day. All was well with the here and now. He groaned just a little as he stood up from the rock face. Annon chided himself about his choice of sleeping arrangements. He briefly reminded himself of Lat's floor. No one paid him much attention regarding the matter. With practiced ease, he followed Drellin's example and prepared for them to leave. It was a big day ahead, and there was much to do.

The ride to the gate had been pleasant. They passed no one on the trail. The north entrance into Bracar was guarded by a single man. The gate itself was wide open. The guard did not even stop them. He just looked on as their little band passed him by. He did not question them in any fashion. Apparently the north was not considered to be of importance. That or the city father's did not care about the safety of her citizens. Drellin wondered if they had any idea of what could happen? The charn were growing. Bands of slavers and barbarians, pulling together to create what? A force to achieve a purpose? Drellin stopped that line of thinking. Why should she care? She was here for Balor. The ax was her only purpose.

This end of the city as a whole was rather quiet. Even Drellin was aware there were more humans in the southern regions of this land. The three companions road silently on together ever deeper into the long rows of buildings. Drellin felt as if there were a thousand eyes upon her. They were peering out from every open window they passed. Actually, it was not true. Only a feeling. No one paid much notice of the strangers as yet. People passed here and there, busy on their way.

Drellin never actually saw anyone spying on them. Inside she told her self that she was simply paranoid. A commotion of voices up ahead slowed their progress. They had found Merchants' Row. Sellers and buyers were everywhere, coming and going following their daily routines. Colorful wares were laid out on both sides of the long, somewhat narrow avenue. It was extremely crowded with people, things and animals. In fact, there seemed to be a gathering or celebration at hand on top of it all. Streamers and colored ribbons were placed here and there, hung from windows and posted to buildings. Flags of a dozen types were flying on tall poles and lined the walls, walkways, and shops in every direction.

The bustle of city life, in general, was overwhelming to Drellin's senses, but the additional sounds and colors only made it worse. Her first thought was to turn and run, but all of her training held her steady. She felt tested to her very limits but tried to hold a clear grasp on the reality of the moment. Drellin did look very human and for the first time in her whole life, she did not find that to be a bad thing. In her land where it was a failing, here it was an asset. In fact, it may be the one thing that could save her life in the end. She was however afraid, very afraid. That was a feeling she had seldom had to deal with ever. The close-set buildings made it hard to breathe too. The three travelers had not drawn much attention even here, at least so far. That, however, did not ease her mind, or the racing of her heart.

Annon led them around a sharp corner. It was a huge intersection of avenues. A throng of people milled about on business. A vile, hate welled up inside Drellin instantly. It consumed her and overshadowed her fear with tremendous intensity. Before Drellin eye's, she saw the great slavers block of Bracar. Creatures, mutants, and half-breeds, were chained to its edges. A vulgar, overweight, ugly human was hawking prices to a sizeable crowd of possible buyers. There were runners among the slaves. They were mutants similar to her self. She could see in their eyes as they met hers, that they knew what she was, but said nothing. They would not give her away. That was not a concern. It was a simple acknowledgment that there were no secrets among her kindred.

The runners had been hunted and collared. They were just slaves now. They were to be treated has animals and therefore beasts of burden. Their masters would use them, perhaps starve them or even kill them in the end. It did not matter, they had been caught, and all knew the price of capture. Yet among them, they still had honor and the forest law. Drellin was safe at least from them. None would openly give her away. In their eyes, Drellin read a thousand regrets. She comprehended the unspoken, desperate requests for death. Many were not too proud to plead and beg within their gaze. The misery of their life or future here was immeasurable. Desperately, Drellin tried to shut out the loud, obnoxious voice of the auctioneer. He was in full swing, calling prices and boasting about his wares. Instead, she concentrated on the beating of her heart. It was drumming deafeningly in her ears. That matched her pulse. Using every ounce of determination she could muster, Drellin calmed her body and gathered what was left of her will.

Wordlessly their party rode past the evil place. The silent pleas from the chained were etched across her heart forever. There, of course, was nothing at all that she could have done for any of them. They knew it too. A night would never pass for her again, that she would sleep without seeing their faces. The truth, one false move or wrong turn here in this place and she would join them all in their plight.

Drellin observed that Annon had given no notice of the things which froze her own insides like ice. Was his home like this? Did they also have slaves? Drellin pondered what it would be like to up and go somewhere else? Annon had done just that. He had left all that he had known growing up to come here? To find what? Talma also had given no notice regarding the gruesome sale of live meat. His own eyes were huge with delight. He was focused on the grand flags and banners that lined the main road. It was some kind of special celebration? Drellin, rode much slower than her friends, unconsciously lingering longer then she had intended too in the area.

Suddenly she kicked Norban's flanks lightly and urged him on to catch up to her companions. There was a prickly feeling down the back of her neck as they all left the last street and turned down the next. Something or someone had set her inside alarm ringing. Casually she glanced up and down the row of dirty buildings that lined this new avenue. There she found the problem. A city guard was watching the three of them with altogether too much interest. He was standing in the doorway of a filthy tavern just ahead. It was called the Silver Coin. The letters were badly scrawled, but the coin was well drawn. She could read the writing, even though the painter had done poorly.

Drellin found herself grateful to Korak, one of her teacher's from long ago. He had insisted that she learn to read and write more languages then she cared to count. At the time Drellin never would have believed she would need them, as she did now.

Soon their little group was level with the guard. Drellin did not look at him but kept her eyes on the back of Annon's head. Morgane did not slow to stop at the Silver Coin. Annon kept riding so Drellin kept riding. Talma was busy looking at everything and gave the man no more notice than all the rest.

The Silver Coin was an old establishment and not too clean looking in general. The feel of the place mirrored the man's own appearance. Perhaps she was letting the whole situation get to her? Perhaps it was only her imagination or even coincidence? None the less, intuition told Drellin to be wary of the guard. Drellin wanted to look at him straight on to be sure of his intent, but she did not. She forced her own eyes forward and followed Annon ever closer than before. Using every fiber of her body, she listened hard but did not hear his footsteps follow behind them. That was good, or at least she took it as such. Drellin knew she dared not turn around and thereby confirm any suspicion the man may have had about her.

It was already late afternoon, for the morning had slipped by too fast. They had, after all, slept in for a time, before entering Bracar in the first place. One thing Drellin noticed is that the deeper they went into the walls of this place, the less the sun warmed the dark streets. She missed the cool friendly breeze they had left outside the north gate. Inside was stuffy and dead smelling. There were feces in the street. Animal and human feces. The air stank from too many people in one place.

It felt like Bracar went on forever in all directions and that she would never see trees again. In a relatively short period of time, the companions had trekked through several more streets. Drellin had begun to grasp Bracar's sheer size. It was built like a great maze. That was not a comforting thought. Many of the rows upon rows of buildings were too much alike.

Annon rode on, forward to the end of the next street. There he finally pulled his horse up to an iron rail and stopped. Drellin followed his unspoken direction and did the same. They were now in front of yet another tavern. This one unlike the last where the guard had stood was a bit nicer. On the high beam above the porch entryway was a hand-painted sign prominently hung, "Best Ale in Town". The picture on the side depicted a large black bear drinking from a tremendous mug. If a passerby could not actually read the sign, the intent of the building was obvious by the symbolic sign. This was a place to eat and drink ones fill.

Annon dismounted and helped the boy down behind him. He turned to her and stepped to the side of Norban. Gently he placed his hand on hers across the bridge of her saddle, then peered up into her pretty face. "I am hungry. Come now, let us get something to eat and perhaps arrange for a place to stay this night." His words surprised her. There was real, concern in his expression too. She must be showing more emotions then she intended too in general to provoke this response. Drellin had read him wrong somehow. He had been aware of the effect the sites of this place had pressed on her after all. She should not have sold him short. Annon lifted his hand away and released her from his gaze. Drellin did not say anything back, but turned in the saddle in a graceful motion and slid to the ground.

Together the three of them walked up the wide, wooden steps to the taverns main entrance. Drellin pulled her cloak a bit tighter around her face and secretly wished it was nightfall already. That would come soon, but not soon enough for her comfort. Annon led the way through the double doors. Talma, as always stayed ever at the warrior's heels. Drellin took one last glance up and down the street but did not see any sign of the city guard from earlier. She decided right there and then that she had simply been too mistrustful. In fact, she was altogether too anxious about everything. She looked human enough. Drellin would have to count on that for all that it was worth.

Drellin then turned back to the doorway and followed her two companions inside. Just beyond the entrance Annon abruptly turned to face her, letting Talma walk further on by himself. Annon's eyes were suddenly close to hers, and they held her harder than metal chains with the intensity of their gaze. She was suddenly more afraid than before. Had he noticed some danger she had not? Drellin steadied herself and evenly gazed back at the man.

"Drellin, I want you to watch the boy for me. Stay here in this tavern. Get a table. Above all, keep out of trouble!" With that last statement, he half smiled just a little at the edges of his handsome, mouth. He then fumbled at his waist quickly and retrieved a small leather purse. He reached out and grasped her right hand, then pushed the bag firmly into it. "I want you to buy food and drink. I have an errand that I must attend to now." Annon's powerful, commanding voice left no room for question or objection. Both of which she had too many to count. "I will not be, long. Wait here for me." His final words were much softer in tone. He was not trying to make her worry but he simply wanted her to do as he asked. Drellin had left him in this manner more than once, so she figured she owed it to him anyway.

Talma had stood still for a few moments, watching. He was several paces away from his two companions. He was keeping himself busy there taking in the whole room with a mixture of curiosity and excitement. It took a while before his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light completely so that he could finally see everything in the room. It was large, much larger then any Talma had ever seen. That was not really a surprise, as Bracar had been bigger in every way than any place he had ever been before. There were many strangely dressed people crowded around tables, eating and drinking. The air itself was thick with the smells of roast pork, hot fresh bread, and mead. His belly ached for he had not eaten since the night before. Talma was more than just a little hungry. There were noises coming from his mid region. Famished noises.

It was obvious that Drellin and Annon were busy with something important. Talma was young, but he knew by the look on both their faces it was not a good conversation. No matter how loud his stomach growled he thought it was wiser to wait rather than interrupt. So, Talma continued to look closely about the room. A single man in the far corner caught his attention. There was nothing outwardly abnormal about the man to begin with but something set him apart. Something the boy could not quite put his finger on.

The stranger caught Talma starring and returned the stare with equal intensity. For a breath or two, Talma felt extremely uncomfortable, but it quickly passed as the man's face broke into a broad smile. It was a warm welcome kind of look. He raised his hand and even motioned for Talma to come and join him at his table. The boy looked back over his right shoulder toward Drellin and Annon. They did not seem any closer to finishing. He figured it could not hurt to sit down? They may be a while, and Talma was both tired and altogether too hungry. Coming to an abrupt decision, Talma walked over to the man's table without further concern. The fact that he could be walking into a trap of some kind never entered his inexperienced, mind. A sheltered life had given him a great deal of trust in people as a whole.

Annon drew closer to Drellin and held her tightly with his eyes. He was so close at one point that she could feel his hot breath on her cheek. Annon thought for a long moment about this woman or girl, he could not decide. He was truly unsure. There was one thing he did know for absolute certainty. Drellin was beautiful. He shook his head almost violently with that thought. This was not the place or time for such emotions. He was a fighter and women of any kind had no place with him. Until now he had not truly been aware of the full and complete grip that Drellin had on his heart. When he had left his homeland, it was not to find love. That fact was beyond doubt. Yet, Annon had grown accustomed to her presence and even to like as well as respect her abilities as a fighter. She had proved herself again and again during their trip from the settlement. He had never in his lifetime met anyone like her before. That was the crux of the problem. That is what made him troubled for the first time.

"I will return soon. Do not worry. Watch the boy for me." Annon's strong, intense voice had become almost warm, to her startled surprise. He had never used such tones before. Perhaps he had detected her uneasiness since they had entered the city, Bracar. Perhaps he had taken pity on her in some fashion. Pity, however, did not suit him, so she quickly ruled it out. It was some other kind of emotion, but the depth of it was unclear. He was hard to read, both in his words and in his body language. By his stance, Annon seemed kind, yet stern or even angry with her all at the same time. She dared not ask why. There were too many strangers in this strange place. Too many eyes and ears focused on them both. Even a simple conversation, could be twisted by an onlooker or stranger and passed to an enemy. Her paranoia was more than back. It now threatened to overcome her. She desperately held it in check.

There could be no negative answer to his request or even demand if that was what it really was in the end. Thus she shook her head in acknowledgment. She could not seem to find her own voice at all. Drellin was not sure if it was out of the sheer fear of being left here or the chocked feeling that consumed her. Both left her sick inside again. That feeling had been all too reoccurring since she had left Moreer. Emotion. It was getting in her way for all kinds of reasons, too numerous to consider. It mattered little because the cards had been dealt. In quick reflection, it was probably safer here at the moment then outside anyway. She needed to wait for the fullness of night. In this terrible place, it was her best chance to succeed in her own quest.

With her silent assent, he ended the conversation. Annon turned on his right heel and was off. He immediately went back toward the entrance and left through the swinging doors. Annon did not look behind him. Drellin wished that he had for she needed him. She hated herself for admitting that. There was no way she could have expressed that clearly, so his actions were probably best. Annon's original quest had been for knowledge and the gathering or making of maps to this world. He had wanted to bring the information back to the Isle. Like his uncle Vorin, he had wanted to learn, and perhaps make a name for himself someday. That is what he talked about from the beginning. Being the youngest prince of so many, his chance at the throne was small. That did not mean he did not have ambitions of his own.

Now more then ever Annon had to find Vorin. Yes. His brother's brother was said to be still alive. Annon had not mentioned that part to Drellin. Not exactly anyway. Why? he did not know. Holding out one last piece of the picture, until he was sure about who she was? Now to find he could think of no one or nothing else but her?

Originally Annon had planned to seek out, and to meet his father's brother as a point along his path in life. He admired and revered the man. After meeting Drellin in was now at the top of his list. Vorin had made something of his life without being crowned king. That was okay with Annon as well. He could do the same. That is why he had originally, headed for Bracar. Now however it had become altogether too clear that Vorin may be Annon's only hope. That is in his current dilemma he needed a person he could trust. Vorin was, after all, stated to be a very wise, man and a seeker of true-knowledge. Annon needed wisdom because the nonsense in his heart was consuming his very being.

If his uncle, were still here in this city Annon would find him. He had too. He had never before felt this way about any female, much less a mutant. Yes, he had guessed her secret days ago upon his first encounter with Drellin. When one looked at her, there were no outward signs to give her away. However, Annon had learned long before he met Drellin to know and somewhat read deeper into people. Even if they tried to hide from him, time would give them away. They all let you see themselves in the end. Their real soul cannot, hide. It had just taken time for him to admit it.

All his life he had killed creatures such as her with never a second thought about it. Somehow he could not bring himself to put her to death. Vorin was his blood kin, and Annon was sure he would know if the woman had bewitched him or not. That would explain much. Annon would know for sure why he could not kill her. Then again, did he really want to know the truth? "Yes!" He answered his own question with anger. "The truth is my life, and I will not throw it away. No matter what the answer is, I will face it and be ready."

Drellin did not like the idea of waiting, much less waiting here. She had her own quest in this city, even if it left a foul taste in her mouth. Babysitting was not on her list. The only saving grace in the situation is that it was growing dark outside. Drellin loved the night and embraced its promise of safety with every fiber of her body.

She forced herself forward toward the swinging doors after several long moments. Drellin did not want to appear to be following Annon, but she needed to check outside. Swallowing hard, Drellin looked over the doors out into the growing darkness, just in time to see Annon ridding off. Norban was still tied to the post and fine. Drellin started to turn back into the tavern when she noticed a deep shadow at the side. The far building across the dirt street was hiding someone. It was the palace guard. The same man from earlier. He was now staring openly at her. Drellin could see his white eyes clearly enough.

"No, there can be no waiting. That one must die." Drellin whispered to herself quietly with conviction. "Annon, I will try to do as you have asked, I will try to take care of Talma. Yet, I have to do what I must." The last words were more of a declaration to no one, but the air itself. She did not go outside, however, but turned back into the tavern. Drellin's eyes began to adjust to the dimmer light quickly. She glanced about the room and could see Talma sitting at a far table. Time is so short! She had so much to do, and the position that Annon had put her in was bad at best. Talma was not alone at that table. He was speaking to an old man.

Drellin gathered herself together from the inside and hoped that the effort showed on the outside. She walked with measured grace toward Talma and his new friend. She stopped within just a short step away from the table where the two were seated. Drellin took the measure of the man with practiced ease. He was not an immediate threat, but anything was possible.

"Drellin, this is Tark, he's a storyteller." Talma's voice sounded out loudly with excitement. "You were busy, so we have been talking. He has been so very many places, you must sit and listen." The young man's face was so bright with fervor, that Drellin felt just a little jealous. She wondered what it must be like to be human?

"My lady, you are truly a wonder yourself, as well as Annon. That is from what Talma here tells me about your own journey here. Come sit with us. My name is Melill. I have ordered some food and wine. I would gladly trade a story or two with you for a meal." He grinned just a little too broadly to suit her with those last words still hanging in the air. "How long will you be in Bracar?" The man continued. His smile resembled too closely the edge of a sword. His teeth looked to be a bit too white and too sharp.

Drellin disliked this old man but did not want a confrontation. She put on her best smile in return and tried to be friendly in her stance and manner. "I do not know the length of our stay as yet," then adding quickly, "In your beautiful city." She turned her attention on the boy directly. "Come Talma, we have several things to do before Annon comes back." The heated glare behind her eyes was not missed by the youth.

In a desperate manner, he pleaded as any kid would, one last time. "I don't want to leave!" It obviously escaped him that they could possibly be in any danger here. He had taken an instant liking to the storyteller but knew it was a lost cause by her returned flat stare. In fact, the knowing look she gave to him said much without a voiced word.

"Let him stay my lady. I will take care of him." The old man's voice carried an odd undertone that made Drellin's insides crawl. She was sure she had not made a mistake. He was trouble, if not now soon enough.

"No!" her answer was final and directed at both the man and the boy. Talma knew that he had crossed the line and made her mad. She still did not outwardly show it, but he knew none the less. She had that special tone in her words. Drellin was beginning to get really angry.

Talma stood up from the table and stumbled over a fast good-bye directed toward the stranger. The old man gazed at Drellin closely but did not attempt to push her further. He was wise enough to know better. "Perhaps another time my lady, we can exchange a few bits of legend or fragments of a yarn. The pleasure of your company would always be welcome at my table." Then he bowed his eyes slightly in respect?

"Yes, perhaps another time, Melill." Drellin again attempted to put on her best smile. She had used his name in her answer on purpose. It worked as she had hoped and disarmed him in a fashion. His eyes met hers for a single breath, and he did not pursue the point further. Melill had not lied. He was a real storyteller by trade. He also knew with every fiber of his body that there was a grand story here before him, just below the surface of what was not said. The problem lay, in the fact he was just wise enough to know he could lose his life in obtaining it. Because of that, he decided that for now he would wait and see, rather than push for detail.

Talma stood quickly and followed Drellin as she turned from the table, leaving the old man behind. She made her way to the far end of the dark tavern, where a fat, dirty little man, the innkeeper himself stood behind a large counter. A few brief words with him and Drellin had arranged a room for the night. It was upstairs and even overlooked the main street outside. She also had arranged that food was to be sent up.

It bothered Drellin a bit that Talma had told the old storyteller about Annon and herself, but that was her fault. She had not told him to be quiet exactly. Part of her wanted to be angry with him, but it would do little good. The damage if any had already been done. Talma had not caused any intentional harm. The best she could hope for was to keep them both safe until Annon returned. She was trying to do just that, by keeping alert.

Together they followed the pudgy, smelly man upstairs to a room. He opened the door and handed Drellin the key. "Food will be up soon, ma'am." Then he headed back down to help other guests. Drellin went in, and Talma followed her. The room was plain and had two small rope cots. There was a hearth for a fire. They would need that, a fire later. The storm had passed, but not the cold completely. There was also a table and two heavy, wood chairs.

Drellin paced back and forth relentlessly. The food that the innkeeper had sent up smelt good, if plain. However, she did not feel like eating. Talma had eaten in silence. In fact, he had said little to her since they had come to the room. He knew she was mad. Even if she did not yell at him, he felt he had let her down somehow. Talma just could never have any real idea in what way.

Drellin stopped pacing. A little over two hours had come and gone. Talma had fallen asleep on the bed early on and even now snored loudly. He was too tired, from the journey and the bed had been too welcoming.

The runner brought out the tiny, weathered parchment she had carried with her all this way. It was the one she had received from the dying elf. He had held onto it and refused to give it to anyone but Drellin. He had even died for it in the end. She studied intently every word and symbol as she divided her attention between its contents and the wide window overlooking the street below.

The night had engulfed the city outside and stars filled the sky. Drellin memorized each line written in longhand and then finally tore the paper to shreds. She walked over to the remains of the small fire still sputtering low in the fireplace and tossed the small pieces in. Carefully Drellin considered her next move. She made sure there was nothing left but ashes of Shendar's message. Time was running out, and her quest was at hand.

Drellin did not want to leave the boy. She had tried to do what Annon had asked of her, but the pressure of her task had grown great. Her feelings for the warrior and the boy could not be allowed to interfere. It was after the main, dinner hour, and the tavern below had grown a bit less busy by the sound of things. She moved to the bed, bent down and shook Talma by the shoulder to wake him. He rubbed his face and eyes slowly until he met her gaze. The look on her face was so very, serious that even he could not miss that there was trouble of some kind near.

Talma gathered himself together as he thought Annon might in such a situation and tried to pay close attention. "I have to go. I will return within an hour or so. Annon will return soon too. If he comes back before I do, tell him what I have said. Tell him I waited until I could not wait any longer. I have to go on an errand too." She wanted to add, "Tell him I am sorry," but did not. She rose and went toward the door. On the way, she stopped only a moment to unhook the great Thunder Whip from her belt and lay it on the small table at the side of the room. "Relock the bolts and put the chair against the handle when I leave," Drellin commanded without turning to face him. The boy knew better than to question her. "Don't leave this room. Remember that! Don't leave this room."

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Chapter Fourteen-Norban is Safe

Drellin came down the steep stair to the main floor of the inn. From her vantage point at the bottom of the stairwell, she could see into the larger main room just beyond. There were only a handful of customers still milling about. The fire in the large hearth had burned down low and gave rise to obscure shapes on the walls. They were only shadows, however, and not real enemies. That is a fact Drellin knew by her long years of experience and heightened senses. Yet, her heart still ached with altogether too much fear. She crossed the hall area and headed toward the main entrance. No one really took much notice of her.

A quick glance back over her right shoulder told her that the storyteller was gone. That was a relief of sorts. She brought her attention back to the problem at hand quickly and peered out over the swinging doors cautiously. Sadly as Drellin expected, she could still see the guard. The man had followed them from his first position. Now he was only barely hidden in the shadows across the street. He had been watching her earlier that was beyond doubt now. The fact was he would have to be dealt with somehow and quickly.

The sky above was full of bright beautiful stars, and the night air was icy cold. Drellin found herself wishfully thinking of summer. That, however, was months away. Annon had not returned, as he had promised. She had no other choice or option, but to follow the path Shendar had presented to her by way of the elf. There were no other exits so she had to walk right in front of the watcher. Would he confront her directly? Follow her? Raise an alarm?

Drellin pushed through the doors boldly and climbed upon Norban who had been left tied up to the rail outside. She would have tended to him earlier, but Annon should have been back. She felt a little guilty at leaving Norban so long. On the other hand, he was the only welcome site she had seen so far in this strange city. Drellin tried not to think too hard about that. Talma would be safe. She was sure. If anything Drellin, herself was likely the problem. If there was trouble for the boy it would have been because of her. He was a human among humans. "Yes, you will be better off without me." She spoke low in an attempt to convince herself of that truth.

The guard across the street did not make any immediate move to stop her. Drellin found she was thankful, the street was fairly empty. There were only a handful of people coming and going about their final business for the day. She tried not to look in the direction of the guard but kept her eyes on the street. Drellin could feel his eyes upon her and that was enough. Drellin urged Norban forward back down the way her and her companions had come earlier. She did regret again having to leave the boy behind, but she had waited as long as she could.

A sign at the end of the street caught Drellin's attention as she drew near the corner. The funny thing is that she had not noticed it before. Perhaps she had been too distracted by the overall hectic bustle of the people and unfamiliar surroundings. It was a clearly marked symbol in common followed by the human script. It read "Stables". There was also a small carved arrow below the letters. She pulled Norban's reins in that direction. Drellin would need a safe place to leave her life long friend, for the rest of the night. It was a relatively short distance from the sign to the stable building. Drellin found her self glad of that fact anyway. There, was a barn-like structure and a large yard next to it that doubled as a coral. There were four horses loose in the yard area and no one else in sight. She slid from her mounts broad back and led him forward toward the stable door. Before she could reach the handle, it opened wide in front of her. A young boy peered out.

"My lady, can I help you?" He stuttered just a little as he looked into her eyes. He was maybe a dozen seasons old, and thin. He was very thin. Something was wrong with the shape of his face. Not perfect, yet not right either. She was not sure if he was afraid of her, or the horse. "Should I take him for you?" again he stuttered only this time more pronounced. Drellin noticed too, that as she stepped just a bit closer she could see him visibly shake.

"I need a place for my horse this night. What is your name boy?" Drellin tried to smile and reassure him in that one action.

"Marn," his answer was barely a whisper. "My name is Marn." He did not meet her eyes as he spoke. He now only stared at Norban. He shuffled his feet a bit and even coughed low to clear his throat.

"You're not afraid of my horse are you Marn?" Putting every soothing tone she could muster into her words. Drellin then stepped just a little closer to the boy.

"No my lady, I am not afraid." Quickly he recovered himself and gathered all of his courage together. Marn stepped clumsily forward right up to the mighty horse and stroked its wide neck. It was the first time she could see his young face clearly. "He is truly fantastic, my lady. I will stable him safely for you. I will take good care of him. I promise." His final words were much stronger in force and tone. It made her a bit less concerned. Norban was no ordinary horse by any means, and next to him the boy looked too small. However, it did not matter as Drellin did not have any better place to leave him at this point.

"Good. I will hold you to that." Drellin tried to laugh lightly and again attempted as she could to smile and disarm Marn's nervous reactions. "There is one more thing. If I'm not back by dawn, I want you to take him to the tavern where the black bear dances on the sign. Do you know the place?"

"Yes, my lady. I know the place. I know it well." Marn began to lead Norban further back into the main stable building. She stopped him once more. "Wait, I need to ask" She hesitated, "directions. I am seeking a blacksmith shop. It is called the Tall Hammer. Do you know of this place too?" During their trip in from the north gate, Drellin saw no sign of any blacksmith. The city was huge. She had to have help and Marn was a safe bet to get it without too many questions. It was lucky to find only him here this night after all. At least it felt safe enough to ask him the question.

The boy stopped and looked back over his right shoulder. "Yes, I know of that place too. It is not far." He quickly gave directions. Marn felt just a little bit more confident. This woman asked him questions and he had answers. The horse was just a bit larger than he, was used too. He was not afraid. She respected him. She thought enough to ask him questions. He stood slightly taller in stature. He had gotten off to a bad start but had overcome his own fear. His father was always telling him that he was slow minded and no good. "Can't be slow and take care of horses." The boy mumbled under his breath. "Can't be slow and give directions." more mumbles. "Not slow." then he was quiet.

She was a stranger, but it had been more than that which had caused his fear. She smelled wrong. Marn was a mix. He could tell. The lady was not human, not human at all. Why she could not tell the same of him was a bit of a surprise to the boy. His father always said he was an animal, low like a runner. She did not seem to be anything like his father's description? Marn did not think that his father was right at all. He did not believe that he was right about Marn. Marn was smart. Marn is smart. Marn did not want to pursue Drellin's reasons for asking after the place, the Tall Hammer. Her business was hers as far as Marn was concerned.

"Thank you. Here." Drellin placed a solid silver coin in Marn's free hand. A smile finally appeared on his all too serious young face. He even dared to meet her eyes directly for a brief moment. They did not give him away to her, or she did not let on if they did. For Marn however, he would never forget her. She was beautiful. Not human, but that fact did not matter. She was beautiful!

"You are welcome, my lady. Best speed to you this night. Your horse will be waiting for you upon your return." The boy then turned abruptly and moved off deeper into the barn area.

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Chapter Fifteen-The Tall Hammer

It was all Drellin could do to stop herself from running and taking back Norban's reigns. She was totally alone now in this terrible place, the city of Bracar. Her heart pounded louder in her ears than ever before. It took several moments for her to pull herself away from the main entrance and face the empty street. The bitterness of her life swept over her soul like a cold winter wind. Drellin was ultimately just a pawn in the scope of things. Shendar and all the elders, masters of the woods' had raised her for their own purposes. Even now from this great distance, they were still pulling her strings. This time, maybe too hard. The scales were dangerously unbalanced. Death was close.

Drellin resented the situation to some degree, but that would not change any of it. Drellin mentally pushed one foot forward and then the next. Soon she was headed up the street toward the blacksmith shop. The best thing that had happened so far was that by accident, Annon's choice of tavern was close to her goal. Above her, in the heavens, there was a handful of clouds gathering. Drellin so loved the stars, but this night they were not her friends.

In a short space of time, Drellin had come to the smith's shop. She had passed several empty buildings along the way. There had also been a few businesses, but only a few. Hard times hit even in this city, she guessed. Time was slow moving. The hour, felt later than it really was she knew. The city dwellers were calming and going home. Well, except those heading out to taverns and other entertainments. Not here, where Drellin stood. It was fairly remote. That was a blessing.

All the while Drellin had traveled down the road, she had kept an intent lookout for the guard. The man still shadowed her steps she was sure. He had not followed her into the stables? Now he was gone? Her luck was just not that good. His being missing did not give her any relief. Drellin was sure she had not been wrong about him. The man had eyes on her, the kind that made you feel dirty. Drellin would just have to assume he had escaped her detection somehow.

Drellin stood across the street from the Tall Hammer for several minutes. There was nothing very special about the business. It was in a better class of neighborhood than most places Drellin had been in so far. Otherwise, it was nothing extraordinary at all. There was a door in the front and a patio overhang. It was built to allow some protection for pedestrians to linger. Funny, it was not a typical blacksmith. It was actually a jeweler. Not a high-class place by any means. More a place you go to have your shoes repaired with metal or precious stones inlaid in personal items. The runner thought this a very odd place for a meeting.

There was a front entrance, similar to a small mercantile shop. It looked empty. That is except for one young man sitting in the corner near the main doorway. There was no light inside. She could see him clearly, thankfully by the gift of her heritage. She did not need light to do so. The man was no more than twenty to twenty-five seasons old. His dress was that of a user of magic, an apprentice perhaps, Drellin thought. Darkly furrowed eyebrows and a very sharp nose made him look comical. A small child trying to play the part of a grown up? The combination did not fit his true features at all.

Drellin walked a bit slower as she crossed the space in the road to the building directly. The magic user stood up from his seat. His eyes caught hers and starred fixed with intensity. Perhaps he was trying to cast a spell? perhaps not. It did not matter as his magic would not work on her at all. He did not know that, but he soon would find out. Drellin resigned herself to her fate, whatever it may be. She continued to approach until she was a mere handful of steps away. "You are Trelonda!" It was a statement rather than a question, but he responded none the less.

"Yes, I am Trelonda. I did not think you would come. I have waited a long time on this porch. In fact, I have done so now for three nights. If you had not come this night, I would not have returned at all." His voice gave away any pretense of friendliness in lieu of sheer hate. Trelonda's eyes took measure, of her up and down slowly like a predator considering a meal. In one swift motion, he turned and walked through the door of the shop and into the inner room. The fire pit of the forge was cold. The musty, heavy smell of burnt wood and black smoke permeated the air, from years of use and very little ventilation.

Trelonda's heavily decorated cloak swirled like a mini tornado in his wake. He did not look back to see if Drellin followed or not, but assumed she would. Once inside, Trelonda turned again to face her. "We are safer inside. The streets have too many eyes."

Trelonda was perhaps right, but Drellin did not like the place. It was hard to breathe. There were only two exit doors to the room too. The main one she had just entered from and a second door to the back which led out into some unknown darkness beyond. She did not sense any danger there, but it was not too inviting just the same. Other then those, there were only two small windows along the one side wall of the shop, facing the front. Drellin pushed that all aside for the moment. This was his meeting and his choice of meeting place. Caution was a luxury she did not have if Drellin was going to obtain the information she needed to succeed. She would have to bend to his rules and bend to his will.

"Where is the ax?" Drellin decided that she might as well cut to the chase. There was no reason to expect anything deeper in emotion then he had already shown her. If he were her supposed brother by blood? his connection had been made clear. She kept her tone flat. He obviously did not want to make this a family reunion.

"You must enter the castle proper." Trelonda's icy voice left the small hairs on the back of Drellin's neck standing straight up. His eyes told a story all their own. It was a dark tale and Drellin was sure she would not like the ending. All things considered, she would not even like the speaking of it out loud from the beginning either. Drellin was trapped. The runner remained mindful of her goal. Nothing else was important. Let him talk. She had already guessed it would be in the castle. How simple this young man was? His obvious stance revealed he was confident like a peacock. Drellin found him to be a small, stupid boy. He talked on. He wallowed in his importance.

"Can you tell me where in the castle I should go too? Could you draw a map for me?" Drellin's frustration was seeping into her words even as she fought to make them emotionless. Drellin desperately did try to hold a world full of her own personal feelings back the best she could. That was a useless effort, however. "I need specifics from you, brother." The last word she cautiously added to test the underlying mood of the man before her. "Brother." a word spoken there between them alone in the darkness. It was like a blade, pulled from its sheath and held high over the kill. It lingered and waited for the sure, sweet taste of blood.

Trelonda visibly sneered but complied, by giving her a set of directions. They were scrawled on a small brown parchment. Funny thing Drellin thought, as she glanced over its contents quickly and tried to put everything to memory. It looked much the same as the map the elf had given her. That is all except one or two doorways and passages. It was drawn just close enough to the truth to disguise a lie. If she had not had the information from the elf, Drellin would have depended too greatly on this piece of paper. Now, it only served to further confirm Trelonda's treachery.

This low-level magic user threw it at her in pure disdain. He could not bear to hand it to her directly for fear he might soil himself. Somehow by merely touching Drellin, her perceived disease would rub off on him? "That will be all that you need." The smile that claimed his features was just another telltale sign of a trap. Trelonda was not very deep or hard to read. She almost laughed at the irony of the situation but did not. It was obvious he felt sure of his position. There was no need or reason to spoil that for him. However, she had her own agenda and thought there was, after all, no harm in meeting the truth head-on.

"Brother, did you know of me before the elder's contacted you? Did you know I existed at all?" Drellin was not sure why she bothered to ask. In fact, she spoke before she could stop herself. It was a gut instinct. This time instead of a knife, the words just lay there on the floor in the dark. They were held inside a tangent empty space between the two siblings. No retort. It was like a dead carcass, left to rot. Her heart still held the tiniest glimmer of true hope, but that was all it was in the end. Just hope, a bright spark to be stamped out and erased easily from existence.

After a long silence. Drellin nearly thought he was finished. Then, "Yes, I knew of your existence. I simply chose to ignore it until there was some benefit to that information." He licked his lips noisily. There was the slightest gleam of sweat on his brow. "Drellin, your tone sounds like you do not believe you will return from this nights' task. Does that bother you sister?" He now sneered openly. The time for pretense had long past. It had somewhat sickened him inside to play games with her in the first place. She was a low life and he was ashamed to have the same blood as her, coursing through his veins. He was his father's blood son. He was the sun of a paladin. Why his father had chosen to sleep with the foul creature's mother? It must have been a trick or spell. It was beyond his understanding.

"No. That does not bother me, not like you believe it does. I think that in some way it bothers you." She replied low all the time trying to keep the ugly thoughts that she read behind his eyes at bay. They threatened to overwhelm her heart and she could not allow that sentiment. It had been her heart that had been her demise on too many occasions in the past. This situation was nothing different than the rest to be dealt with and handled accordingly. "Brother." She voiced the last word almost in the purest tone of a plea. She was sure however that he did not hear her at all. Trelonda's ears were closed. His mind was set and his plans were fixed. They were cemented in stone and could not be changed.

"It must be something to be so special. To be a runner for the elders of the

Maralan? That says much about you, and how powerful you certainly are, I guess. I myself have fought hard for my place in this society. Being associated to you by blood was like having some black shadow hanging over my head. Your death would not be too hard on me I assure you." Trelonda's ugly sneer was twisted hideously, worse than any face she had ever seen.

"You were paid well for the risks you have taken. No matter, I will do as I need too and then be gone from this city. Do not fear my presence to your social standing." A wave of great anger, came over her insides. This was no brother but in essence an ironic joke of the fates. Blood ties alone would not ever give them any connection now or in the future. Perhaps she had dared dream just a little. That is after she had found out of his existence from the elf. "Now, let us get on to the business at hand. Does the king have a real wizard and will he be about?" She almost regretted her question as soon as she heard out loud. One part of her wanted to push Trelonda just a little, and by insulting his magic she had succeeded too well. His expression was truly vulgar. Drellin did not think it could get uglier, but she was wrong.

"No, the real wizard will not be about." Trelonda spat the words out as if they had left a bitter taste in his mouth. "I have arranged for everything. He will join the banquet tonight held in honor of Prince Sandrek's coming of age." As Drellin listened, a steel wariness came over her. This magic user was not speaking the truth. The man lied with every breath. She could feel they were not alone too. The guard had followed her from the tavern she had no doubt. The real problem was that she knew Trelonda was not by himself. It was not completely unexpected. Although this time, the others that were with the guard were probably not so patient. Drellin could sense at least three more. The odds were not in her favor. She nearly laughed. When were the odds ever in her favor?

"What is wrong, sister, you look pale?" Trelonda's laugh was sickly. "Yes poor sister, I have trapped you. Our mutual father may have favored his bastard daughter with the forest teachers but you are in the city of Bracar now. I claim no blood relation to you, you foul-smelling thing. Where is my father's whip? As for the horse Norban I know of him too. He should have been mine. It all should have been mine. I will break the mount to his rightful owner, me! That one was and is the prided colt of Cana, father's warhorse. He absolutely is rightfully mine! I am our father's son." His last words dripped with venom. Trelonda moved his right hand out from where he had hidden it beneath his robes earlier. In it, he now held a slaver's collar. "I don't care if they kill you or you are enslaved. It is not an important matter to me at all. Either way, it will solve many of my life's problems in one event."

Drellin had expected treachery. She had kept note of his hand from the beginning and anticipated Trelonda's moves far in advance. She guessed from the first moment what he had held. Drellin sprang forth with her dagger held high in a lightning quick reaction. She took his life soundlessly, never giving him a chance to call out or cast a spell. Trelonda's only blood sister looked down and whispered, as he fell limp within her arms, "My brother, the horse chose me and the whip was given to me by our father!" Hot tears filled her eyes. "I am sorry."

Trelonda had not expected her to be so ready. He had underestimated her in too many ways. Funny how he had spoken highly of all her skills that he had learned about, yet thought she would still be an easy target? Trelonda had not even brought a real weapon. It was obvious that he had placed his faith in defending himself on his openly, over-dependence on magic. Trelonda must have thought he would be able to cast a spell on her. He had probably been doing just that from the very beginning.

Magic just never affected Drellin the way it may have if she had only been true, human. Her mother's race was all special in that manner. They had lived among magic beasts and men alike without fear. Drellin felt his power from the moment she had come close to the shop. Until now she had not connected that it was meant against her directly. The funny part was that the magic had no bad effect on her. She felt the blood of her human father rush through her body. Whatever he was trying, only made her stronger. Did she absorb the power in some way? It had given her bit of a headache, otherwise, she felt great. It was one of her mother's gifts by blood. Whatever was the outcome, Drellin gave thanks to the heavens again and again.

Drellin rose slowly, leaving Trelonda prone on the wood floor. His life's blood leaked out from the knife wound and made a large black puddle. In the near complete darkness at the room's center it grew wider and wider, then stopped. She went swiftly to the open front of the shop. In the deep gloom of the cold night, Drellin could sense the guards and their positions along the street. They had, of course, moved in a bit nearer, while Trelonda had attempted to keep her busy. The fates must be with her for sure, she thought. It could not be by chance alone. Great clouds in the heavens above had gathered and blocked out the stars. A deep mist had risen from the cold, hard ground too. Drellin mouthed a silent prayer of thanks.

Drellin then whistled very low, barely heard in the night. The response was immediate. The animals in the stables a short distance down the street came wide awake. All of the horses began to violently kick and tear their stalls apart. Dogs began to bark and howl close by. The hysteria soon spread throughout the city in all directions. It was like casting a small pebble in a large lake and watching the ripples hit against the shores. The effect echoed and rebounded. Like the dance of a wildfire in dry grass, all the animals responded in a variety of untamed manner. The havoc would continue for hours. Perhaps Drellin had friends of a kind after all.

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Chapter Sixteen-Eyes in the Shadows

The young boy back at the stables had been busy cleaning and brushing Norban's massive mane when he too heard the sound. The part of him that was not human, heard it very clearly. He understood as if a gentle voice had asked or even commanded him. In response, he climbed the stool beside him to get the height he needed. Then he slid onto Norban's wide back. "Find for me the man, the fighter you know, you are his until her return." The stable boy quoted the words in the language of the horse, without understanding exactly how he knew what to say. Norban trotted through the stable doors and out into the street beyond. Quickly they headed toward the tavern with the sign of the bear. Norban had an excellent sense of direction. Even in the deepening fog, he could find his destination.

Drellin knew Norban and even the young boy had heard her call. The gifts of her kind would be an asset this night. She spoke loudly to herself, "Shendar, they will not let me pass, yet I can not waste the magic you gave me. There must be away." In the stillness of the dark room, there was no answer. Funny, Drellin really did not expect one.

The guards began to move toward the shop. There were four of them now by her reckoning. Perhaps they had only waited this long in anticipation of some sign by Trelonda. If that were the case, that would never happen now. She glanced one last time at her brother's still form sprawled on the wood floor. Drellin was sure the men knew she was still inside the building. The night outside was extremely dark even here in the city. There were only a handful of lights in the distant buildings she could just make out. Drellin was thankful. The blackness would give her some cover. There was also the deep mist from the ground outside. Maybe it was a special blessing or more likely sheer luck. It did not matter. The guards were cautious about their approach. The animals' reactions had made them extra wary. Her call to the beasts had worked.

Drellin dropped to the floor and crawled out the front door on her hands and knees. She kept as quiet as she could. She used all of her abilities and skills to be at one with the dark. Drellin finally made it to the edge of the building. The way of escape led only down one path which was across the main street to the shops and walkways. Taking a deep, slow breath, Drellin did not hesitate, but ran forth into the night, straight across the main way. "Nothing?" Why had they let me go so easily? Maybe they still waited for a sign from the magic user from within the shop? Trelonda had resonated with confidence all the time he had spoken with her. If he had conveyed that confidence to the waiting men, then they may fear his anger if they interrupted his game too soon." Drellin's thoughts rambled violently on. She dared not press her luck too hard. It did not matter why they had not followed, it only mattered that she was still free. Drellin had to keep that first in her mind.

Years of experience gave her an edge this night even here among the dark buildings. Drellin moved with great speed. She covered distances in a short period of time. Even so, the path felt as if it had no end and time had stopped altogether to her senses. It took half an hour or more before Drellin could finally see the castle proper. Funny, Drellin thought out loud. Trelonda had lied with his eyes and spoke nothing but deceit, but his map had been sure and to the point. Well, at least the first part. The structure before her was huge, and it towered above the entire city in a grand fashion. Its pillars were bright and shiny as if each stone had been hand polished by the mason before he had laid it to rest on its fellow. Even in the dark, it glimmered slightly from light cast up by the city all around its base. If she did not hate Bracar so very much, Drellin might even have thought the place, beautiful after a fashion.

Tonight would be a great feast if Trelonda's words held truth. Like the map in her hand, Drellin placed her faith "in" the moment. Perhaps some part of her brother wanted to test her? He had such little faith in her ability. Or more correctly he had too great a faith in his own. Maybe he thought to give just enough information, to lead her on. Or was there more truth here than at first glance. His lack of faith gave him confidence that she would fail. Drellin hoped that he was not proved correct.

She would have to take things as they came at her and not depend on much else. There were tremendous, bright banners flying on the tall terraces and spires above her. Yet, here where Drellin now stood in the street below there was little or no breeze at all. Perhaps due to the height of the structures, the flags had caught the blissful caress of the north wind. She missed the wind. Drellin noted now that throughout the city since Annon and the boy and come with her that morning, there had been an undertow of feasting. That gave credibility to Trelonda.

Drellin dared not trust her brother's assurances or promises that the king's wizard would be kept busy. For that matter feasting or not, such a large city and palace would have many human guards, and worse. Each step Drellin dared take forward felt like it was very likely her last. It was not the wizard's magic directly that had made her ask Trelonda about there being such a man. It was that king's of importance could afford the best for protection. That would make a high king's wizard a dangerous foe. Being half human made her more nervous than she cared to admit. The reality was that her heart had never really stopped racing since she had entered Bracar. Drellin made herself a promise then and there. After all of this, she was going to find some very nice quiet place in the woods. Sit down and remember with irony how much she hated her quiet life. Ha, that was a bad joke she did not laugh at, even to herself.

Up ahead was the entrance to the palace proper. There were three men at a guard post and two women she could see clearly from her vantage point. One of the men was actually on guard. The other two were occupied more directly with the wenches. They were all carrying on together, feeling too safe this far inside Bracar. The laughter was harsh sounding to Drellin's way of thinking.

Off to the far side, deep in the shadow of the building, she made out the shape of yet one more man. He was young, much younger than the others. He was playing some kind of string instrument badly. His companions did not seem to notice just how badly, because the girls were much too enticing. Drellin could tell he was not a guard for sure, but she would use the term bard, loosely at best. Not for the last time she regretted her fantastic hearing. Some things are a bane.

Not wasting one more moment, Drellin clutched the small emerald Shendar had sent to her by way of the elf. Drellin knew what the small rock was all along. She had seen its' kind before in her youth or ones similar to it. They were stones of power. Green was a lie. That is what she recalled. Shendar had only a handful among his treasured possessions. The elder and teacher had kept them very carefully locked away, in the past.

That fact had brought home the fine point, of just how important this quest was to the elders. How significant it was to her people. The stone was called a deceiver. Its' power was fleeting. The emerald had to be hidden in the dark to keep it alive. Then when needed, for use, you crushed it to powder. Drellin closed her eyes very tightly. She clutched the pebble-sized stone in her right hand and pictured the dancing wench. In every detail from her dress to her shoes, Drellin tried to be accurate. Surprisingly, it was easy to do. When she opened her eyes, her inner vision had been made a reality.

Magic did not directly affect Drellin, but it did work for her as she had suspected it would. Shendar would not have sent it otherwise. Perhaps it was because of her father being of human blood that the magic held its potency. It did not matter in the end as she knew the spell would not last. Time was more than against Drellin. It was her direct enemy. Gathering her courage quickly, Drellin fearlessly walked out to the middle of the avenue. She continued forward without hesitation in her step, or at least none any onlooker might take note of right off. She put on her best smile and tried to act as alluring as possible. Her heart, being that of a fighter, the effort was difficult, to say the least and therefore not an easy task.

Memory would serve her best this night. Drellin trained her thoughts on the image of the moon dancers. She had witnessed their incredible dance the ice cold night of her own ascension. That was a lifetime ago or so it felt. In truth, it had actually only been four turnings of the seasons. Drellin had come of age that night and been driven from the valley to run for the rest of her life. The moon dancers celebrated that event as true freedom. Well, that is at least how they looked upon the ceremony. Drellin had come to realize it was just the beginning of a lifetime, in a prison of loneliness. It just came without walls. However, putting all that aside, she could clearly see the women of Nerin dancing on the gray granite rocks. It had taken place on Belorn's highest cliff face. They were by far the most beautiful women she had ever seen. Drellin used that memory now to her advantage. It enhanced the magic that pulsed around her very being and made the illusion take on a true to life form.

The sounds of animals still going crazy was loud. There was also celebration music coming from the palace proper. Trelonda had not completely lied. Drellin drew cautiously closer to the palace entrance, ever on edge and alert for the unexpected. She fully anticipated the situation to go bad at any moment. However, to her surprise or perhaps shock, the guards outwardly welcomed her immediately. In that, they did not stop her at all. Instead, they were well into their cups and ready for fresh adventures. Especially adventures that dealt with yet another beautiful dancer. The two human women were still enticing the two guards Drellin had seen from a distance. They occupied their full attention, and that was more than fine for Drellin.

Music drifted down from the palace proper louder than before. It beat upon the air and caused Drellin's own heart to match the rhythm. The badly playing bard tried to match the beat that now embraced the very air, but he only echoed the beauty poorly. However, the last guard was still on duty and paid little heed to either the sounds from the palace, crazy animals in the night or the young man's attempts at song. Celebration or not, that guard was going to be hard to pacify.

The man was a giant in stature. Drellin stepped close to him rather quickly. She did so without drawing much attention from the other dancers or guards. They were more than busy. She had found from past experiences that moving into the path of danger head-on, often disarmed her opponents in unexpected ways. He peered down into her face like an ugly troll from an old time fairytale story, meant to scare small children.

"Who are you, wench?" The man's voice was gruff and guttural in tone and his breath stank. It matched his physical appearance all too well. He reeked of sweat and filth. That was common among these city humans that as a whole did not prefer to bathe. It made Drellin want to turn away and wretch, but she did not. Drellin thought wistfully of the clean forest smells she had taken for granted for far too long. The city actually stank and made it hard to breathe since she had entered its' gates. Being so close to this human threatened to make her pass out. Drellin swallowed hard and steadied her reserves.

"Kind sir, the king sent me to make known his appreciation of your loyalties." Drellin's voice was music to the ear, or at least she hoped so. It took a great effort to feed the illusion Drellin needed. She had to constantly stay centered on the moment at hand.

"Oh stop! Targ! You never trust anyone. Do not chase her away." The younger guard looked up from his own wench across the short distance between the two of them. "You would probably suspect your own mother of deception." His other comrades laughed good-heartedly at the joke. "A pretty face on a cold night is an unexpected pleasure not to be wasted."

Targ, which Drellin now gathered was the huge guard's name that held her with his deadpan stare, then leaned forward and peered ever more sharply into Drellin's eyes. He did not seem overly smart or have any discerning gift of magic, but she knew this whole confrontation was not going well. "You are right handsome, it is cold," Drellin responded to the younger man's observations ever with a warm smile plastered on her gentle features. Then she pulled a small bag from her belt. "This will help with that too." She held the gift up innocently to Targ. "There are many ways to hold back the cold night."

"What is that?" He asked in an accusing voice?" At the same time, he stepped slightly back from Drellin as if the man were making himself ready for an attack. Clearly, this was going to either go bad because of his actual reactions or the magic of the jewel would not hold the spell long enough. In either case, Drellin was going to have to make some quick decisions.

Gallantly the younger guard pushed his own dancer away slightly, "I'll be right back!" and came forward to within an arms distance from Drellin's side. "I'll give that a try." He reached out, grasped the little bag promptly and removed the tiny stopper with his right hand. He gladly drank deeply from its contents. A moment later he wiped off his mouth upon the backside of his own uniform sleeve. There was a pleasant grin on his face. "Targ, you can say or do as you like, for if you don't want it, I'll drink it all!"

"Hey Temms, leave some for me." The other guard smiled a slightly toothless expression of eagerness. "Keep dancing little one, I love to watch you." He twirled the wench slightly and she kept going for his amusement. The two dancers joined together and continued to lift the spirits of the men. Without further hesitation, he stepped to the younger man's side and took the bag from his hand. "They party hard enough up there in the king's hall." He stated heatedly and tilted his head in the direction of the palace. "We could use a little of it down here ourselves." He lifted the bag to his lips and drank deeply. "You are right it does warm the insides and stay the cold from a man's bones."

"Don't down it all Larin, I could use another!" Temms laughed and reached for the bag back. He did not mind sharing, but after all the good stuff was hard to come by.

Suddenly Targ had had enough. "Give that to me, fool!" The hold out guard had obviously changed his mind. Lightening fast he grabbed the bag from his companion and put it to his lips. Drellin watched silently voicing a prayer of thanks inside. Targ did not stop at one swallow but drained the remaining contents with relish. Then he threw down the empty bag, turned back to Drellin and grasped her hand tightly. He pulled her toward him with great force. "Now my pretty little lady, what should we do about you? Do you dance also, like the others?" His breath had not improved and the stench of his body again threatened to overwhelm even her strongest resolve.

Temms was the first to go down. Drellin was thankful the man was not as big as the other two. He hit the ground heavily without a word. The girls kept dancing and only laughed. They figured he must have passed out from too much drink, which was a sight both had seen often enough in their line of work.

The second man laughed heartily and chided out loud, "What is wrong? Can't hold a little liquor, fool?" Well, that is what Larin thought he said. In fact, he basically mumbled as the words stuck in his mouth and did not form well at all. His whole world spun just a bit, and the ground came up to meet his face, or so it seemed to him. Regardless the party was over for this night where he was concerned.

Targ had drunk last, and although he had more then the others put together, he did not succumb right away but hung on just a bit longer. In Targ's mind, he knew things had gone wrong and he had broken his own rules, but Drellin was after all so very beautiful. That was true even more so since that wonderful liquid had slid down the back of his throat. The wine also still tasted strong in his mouth, and his senses felt so wonderfully on fire. "Here my pretty wench, give me a kiss." Targ's strong arms pulled her a bit closer slowly if clumsily as well. He bent down to make his face level to hers to obtain his prize, but his lips would simply not pucker up. This made him start to laugh, and then he too went silent. Like a huge stone dropped from a high cliff he hit the dirt heavily, collapsed like the others. It was not a pretty sight, but at least a welcome one where Drellin was concerned.

"Ah, my friends, you will sleep for only a little while," Drellin whispered low to the three guards. The music from the bard had stopped. Now only the music from the palace proper drifted down to them. The dancers looked in Drellin's direction with sheer fear in their eyes. "Don't worry they are not dead," Drellin spoke in common. "If you want to live this night you will find other places to dance." It was probably not wise to let them go, but the smell of panic on them told her what she knew to be the truth. They would not speak, they would be much too afraid. The illusion from the magic stone was gone for the moment too. Drellin noted that her dress had been replaced with hunters gear. That only added to the dancers' nightmare. The fact that she was, of course, a mutant was plain enough. "I will, of course, know if you say anything, and will find you. Begone!" The two did not wait, but like young does' in the forest, fled before a wild predator." Drellin believed she would never see them again.

"You will need help." The young man's voice stated with sincerity from the deep shadows.

Of course, it had come from the bard. Drellin had not forgotten him but figured he too would have left in fear, slinking away into the night. "Come into the light!" Drellin commanded. "I want to see you clearly." Something in the tone of his voice told her he was no threat. "Who are you?" She asked briskly. It puzzled her a bit that the young man acted as if the whole situation was expected or even planned in advance. It was as if he knew who she was all along. He had not given her away, so he must not be an enemy.

"My name is unimportant. What is important is that I know who and what you are, runner." That answer eliminated all doubt Drellin may have had as to his foreknowledge of this night. "Let me say this straight out, so you will know the truth, for time is short. I have watched too long how your kind has been treated by my kind. I also knew the man Trelonda well. Your being here tells me that he is most likely dead. Don't let my understanding and acceptance of that concern you either. I expected it would go that way in the end. He deserved it really." The boy gave a sad, faraway expression. His body language spoke volumes about his relationship with Trelonda. There was no love lost there she was sure. In seeing him a bit clearer as she drew closer, Drellin was now sure he was older than she first thought. In fact probably older by many seasons. "I knew that should you make it to this gate, you may need a hand. I can not go in, for that would let them know who you are for sure being seen with me. So, I will at least help you with these poor fools." He dismissed her with his eyes and walked over to the first body. He leaned down, grabbed an arm and began to pull the prone figure into the shadows back the way he had come.

Drellin started to ask more questions and then thought there was little point. Whoever he was, the man was not setting off any alarms. She did not have to kill him as yet, and he was, after all, making things a bit easier on her back. Having decided that no action was the best in his case, Drellin leaned down also and began to drag another of the guards into the darkness.

"Shush now, no snoring. We wouldn't want to wake anyone or call attention to your being asleep while on guard. Now would we?" Drellin whispered low to the huge man as she gave a great pull on Targ's leg. He was after all the biggest and heaviest of the bunch and took the most out of her. If Drellin had to fight the man, it would not have gone well, that was obvious. That small stone had more than saved her life. She could not help but silently thank her master for his gift. Did Shendar actually care about her? No, he wanted the ax. That was clear.

Finally, they were all done. The guards lay in the dark shadow of the palace wall, several feet away. The stranger stood before her one last time. "I wish you well, runner. May the moon, light your path and blind those that would pursue you." The man smiled still standing in the near complete darkness of the gates, shadow. Even in the blackness, Drellin could feel the warmth and honesty he exuded. "Your father was a great man and understood that we are all one." At the mention of her father, Drellin wanted to ask more questions, to stop this individual from leaving. She wanted to find out all he knew of things past. However, that was not meant to be. He had already gathered up his instrument and obviously did not want to remain. Drellin could see his swiftly retreating back. receding down the way she had come by earlier. The cold mist swallowed him up. She said a quick thanks to the fates, for having him cross her path this night.

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Chapter Seventeen-Welcome to the Celebration

It did not matter, she told herself silently. My task is at hand, and I will do as Shendar asked of me this night. Drellin moved quickly forward. She turned toward the entrance and headed to the castle proper. The music grew ever louder the closer Drellin came to the entrance. It drifted out from the main hall alive with its' own beat. The time was getting late, but the celebration was still in full swing. She held the emerald stone high and peered into it. There was still a small amount left. Only a small amount. It was equal to a large pearl. Much of its outer shell now gone.

Drellin could feel it still pulsed with life. It was not as strong as before, but it was alive none the less. She would have to count on that until the end. Drellin pictured the dress she once saw in her past. It was her mother's gown. It was elvin made. Lovely. Although her mother had not been of that race, she had been well favored in their halls. She had been a magnificent healer. Well honored. The dress was light and supple as if made of spun silk in all the colors of a spring rainbow. Drellin's hair drifted down around her body lose, the full length of her arms. The jewel was no longer in her hand but strung across a solid silver chain resting just above her breasts.

The guards at the entrance to the main hall did not give her a second glance. The smell of dark mead was heady upon the air and it mixed well with the sweat of a hundred human bodies. Drellin found her self glad of the scent, as it masked the fowl side of human stench well.

Drellin did not trust magic, but truly there would be no other choice for her. She knew she would never have made it this far without the stone. The illusion would not last long now, only a matter of minutes. The stones in general never did. Hurriedly Drellin pressed forward into the main hall. On the far side were a dozen bards, all plying their trade with true enthusiasm? The sounds they were creating to drift upon the night air were beautiful even to her. The center of the room held dancers of all shapes and sizes. The rest around the edges looked to be guests, humans of all sorts. They were dressed in beautiful, bright clothes. They made her think of wild peacocks in the forest at the beginning of spring.

A long line of tables in the back, held more food then Drellin had seen in a lifetime. There were fruits and such she did not even know by name. A full stag had been cooked and now lay prone in the center of the feast. Drellin realized then that the servants were all collared. That should not have surprised her, but it did for some reason. There were several runners of low levels. They were mostly crossbred from humans, and they had no special abilities or traits other than the designation of being different. Of course, that also made them second class citizens and slaves.

A pure, seething black hate came to Drellin, for these pure humans that surrounded her in their frilly clothes. They were one and all without compassion or empathy. They would turn on her like pack animals if they found her out. Drellin knew also that she would prefer death to capture this night. It was up to her to make sure either did not happen. The ugliness of these people that ruled this city tainted everything beautiful about it. That was very little in her eyes, to begin with, but it did complete the picture of all Drellin had learned in her life about men. Evil men such as these Bracarins were proof of every bad story about the south. Drellin would have to make sure that they did not find out who she really was.

The runner stopped her self quickly from straying too far from her objective. She began to concentrate once again, only on her reason for being here. It was the best way to conserve the power of the magic stone. Glancing over the room in its entirety, Drellin finally saw the king. He was high on a daze at the far end of the hall. The large, fat man sat on his massive throne. He was slumped over, in a fashion like one who was to board, or too lazy to sit with pride. "That is if he ever had any pride?" Drellin thought with just a hint of irony.

The throne itself was a great carved chair. Its design held hideous faces tooled poorly into its wooden frame. They were the faces of half-humans, and beasts alike. Drellin remembered the king's name suddenly. Funny until now it never seemed to be of any importance. Because of that, she never thought to inquire about it all the time she had been within Bracar's walls. This city was just a city, and the name of its ruler was insignificant compared to her quest, or so she had thought. Now, however, Drellin actually came to realize that she had known it all along, his name that is. Perhaps inside she had chosen to forget on purpose. That, of course, was impossible now, that she saw his face so close. He was called Parand.

Parand was the pronunciation in common. As Drellin looked directly at him, it came to her all too clearly where and why she knew the king. The man was, well known to all the runners. Parand had ruled for many years here perhaps, but he too had spent time in the Maralan. Drellin had seen him, or so she thought during her time with Shendar. Just like Pranl's father, had sent Pranl, many other human kings sent their sons and daughters. It was a common practice for royalty. The high price the rulers paid was nothing compared to the teachings the masters of the forest endowed upon their students.

The mutants, half breeds, and even the others were not allowed to say anything to any of the apprentices that came to the wood. They had to treat them all kindly as their equals, even when such did not return the honor. The practice of this kind of training was not widely known among the common people, for good reason. It would be hard to explain that their young rulers were students among mutants. That would never have sat well, no matter what the benefit. It was a harsh price to pay in the students eyes as well. The value of their pride in trade, to accept themselves as equals to lesser beings, how sad. Most did not, however, look at it that way. To them, it was just the price to be paid for the best to be had anywhere in the land.

Tales of Parand's cruelty were far spread. Yes, he had learned the ways of the forest and the laws, but he had also learned all about hunting and killing. Mutants used those skills to survive, he, on the other hand, was said to use them for fun and sport. On a much smaller plain looking chair beside Parand sat a man, dark and brooding. He was old without age, much the same as Shendar. His robes were deep blue, and star-like shapes moved across the fabric, like an illusionists' best trick for children. "Yes," Drellin told her self. "That must be the king's high wizard." A man came up to her suddenly from on her right side. His presence so close at hand so quickly made her extremely defensive and ready for attack. She tried to mask it but feared her deception was too easily seen through. The human was tall and of some importance by his dress. He held no visible weapon in his hand, only a large goblet of wine, but she was sure he was not unarmed.

"My Lady, we have not met before, and I would truly wish to make right that wrong." The handsome human bowed very low, "I am Sandrek the Prince. Of course, that means I am the son of Talamon, the king. This is my celebration. It is my birthday, and I intend to celebrate heartily." He laughed just a little with that last statement and drew a tiny bit closer to her. "What is your name my beauty and who has been so wonderful to me to invite once such as yourself?" His eyes moved across her like a predator, hungrily.

Drellin stumbled over her own thoughts for only a moment, "I am Tarebes Lamarn of the Maralan Forest." She did not know why that came to mind so quickly. The words were out there in the air before she could take them back or think of anything else to replace them. Drellin continued on in her sweetest, yet strongest tone she could muster. "I am sorry dear Prince for my late arrival. My father sent me, in honor of your father, the king. My invitation came by way of Cham the Courier of Truth." Drellin's voice was musical to all those that heard it. Secretly Drellin prayed he would accept this for she knew of nothing else to say.

Cham, the Courier of Truth, was a legend held by the elvin race, but often known to even ordinary humans. Elves were the only breed other then pure humans to be free of the hunt. The legend of Cham was of a man that could tell no lie. That is until he fell into true love with a maiden. He died on her behalf speaking an untruth. Drellin prayed the Parand remembered this old tale and would be amused enough not to kill her right away. That way at least she still had a chance. His current name echoed inside her. So they called him Talamon here in this hall. Drellin recalled that was also the name of a mythical king of a land far to the south. It was a story of a very just and kind ruler. By all accounts, it did not fit the ruler of Bracar at all. Well, he would remain Parand to her now and always. Drellin knew that man by name, and knew him well, for all his brutal acts committed in her own lands.

"My lady, you must be a jester or riddle master? Come!" He grasped her right arm gently, but firmly. With it, he led Drellin down the short stairway and into the middle of the hall. It was clear his path was heading directly to his father's throne. There could be no choice but to go with him. That is to say, if Drellin did not, there would be nothing left but to fight openly. Obviously, she was more than outnumbered, and the odds were not in her favor. Everything Drellin had ever learned screamed at her to fight or at least run. "Leave this place!" Her heart pounded loudly. A quick look toward the wizard was all she dared. Drellin could see he was actually staring at her openly. She made an effort not to stare back and to pull her eyes and her thoughts toward Sandrek instead.

The jewel upon her neck had begun to burn softly. Perhaps it was something the wizard was doing or a magic spell set as a trap for the safety of the king in general. No matter, it became warmer and warmer with each moments passing and each step nearer the throne. It was not an intolerable pain as yet, but the discomfort would be out of hand, soon enough. Drellin needed to put some distance between herself and Parand's wizard for sure. She also did not know how long she could hold the pain in check.

Sandrek had arrived at his destination a few steps below the thrown on the long daze. "Father," He called out almost pleasantly. "We have been honored by the elves this night. They have sent us one of their grand ladies. I'm sure she must be one of royal blood for she speaks of Cham the Courier of Truth." Sandrek laughed just a little as he repeated her lies openly before the court. The music had stopped, perhaps at the command of some unseen gesture by the prince. Drellin did not notice, but she did feel the dozens of eyes turned now, their full attention on the unlikely couple. "She says he has sent her here on our behalf, to honor us this night." Drellin tried to catch any sign from Sandrek to his father that would give her insight on the next few minutes. There was nothing openly exchanged by way of body language. That is at least that Drellin could read.

One glance at Parand's wizard removed all doubt. There may not have been any message between the father and son, but his intent was crystal clear. It was right there in the evil eyes of the wizard. Drellin gathered her wits and turned her attention to the king. As the crowd parted and the prince led her within a dozen steps of Parand Drellin felt more alive than ever. When you know death is close, but there is no avoiding it, decisions get easier. Pranand sat watching, much more attentive than before.

Drellin no longer feared for her life. This was going to play out the way it was meant too, and there was nothing more for it. She was just a pawn, and the chess board was full of figures to be won or lost. Drellin stopped walking forward beside the prince, bowed low and then lifted her eyes to Parand without hesitation. "Your Highness, your castle is truly a wonder, as well as your kingdom. May the Lords of Light smile down upon your lands forever and one day!" She recited the litany as she remembered it from her youth. It was the welcome greeting, spoken at high council among the elves.

"Thank you, Elvin, Lady. You are very welcome here. It is not often we are graced with visitors such as yourself, from the north country." His tone was, in fact, warm but Drellin knew too well it was not truthful. "You come with no escort?" The man's eyes grew dark with suspicion. Parand did not need to see directly through the magic of the stone. He was aware things were not as they should be. Drellin noticed that he was silently surveying all the guests. Parand did not think Drellin dared to come alone and the king was desperately seeking to weed out any possible enemies that may have come with her in secret. "Who in their right mind would enter Bracar by themselves, to his halls, to steal?" Parand thought hard to himself. "Mutants were often sure of themselves, but none could be that sure." Parand nearly laughed out loud at the foolishness of mutant pride. "We will see." He finished his silent thought.

Trelonda had told Parand much of what the king needed to know, but not enough. The stupid apprentice had spilled his guts for favor, in the court. The low-life scum was bought off cheap. The problem was that Trelonda had not known himself, much about the actual plan.

"Kind sir, a traveler sent from the Courier may ride within the Dark Forest itself and have no fear of man and no fear of beast." Drellin smiled shyly up at Talamon, the king. She tried to put some sense of respect in the name. It did not fit him well, but she hoped the deception would give her even a few more moments to consider her next move. It was her best effort to be sure. Parand's attention was back on her with full force as Drellin answered his inquiries. That was better in the way. If he did suspect Drellin, and she was sure of that, perhaps the unknown held his hand from, action. Maybe, just maybe the king thought she was not alone. Something told her that was the truth of his actions. Drellin had not expected help at the gate, so she was not sure of anything herself at this point. It did not matter because the best part was that the mere possibility in his mind, would buy her time.

"Yes?" I know of Cham. You are most welcome." Parand rubbed his hand over his chin as if debating something not yet spoken out loud. His eyes told her what she needed to know. Parand was deciding Drellin's fate. She had walked into a trap Trelonda had set from the first moment. It did not matter if Drellin had the stone or not. The fact that Trelonda had known who she was from the beginning prevented her from ever accomplishing her task. He had long ago sold her out. Drellin felt confident that was the way of things. Shendar must have known that was more than a slight possibility. The fact that Drellin's master had sent her anyway meant that he either had more faith in her abilities then Drellin did or that he did not care at all. Her life for the ax was a fair exchange. It was nice to think it was the first, but more than likely it was the last.

Then, to Drellin's astonishment, Sandrek turned her swiftly without waiting for further word from his father, back toward the tables laden with food and wine. The young prince did not let go of her arm, in fact, Sandrek gripped it slightly tighter. They approached the tables full of food and drink, the music began again, and the party continued. Drellin guessed the fact that there had been no actual confrontation was sign enough to the musicians, for them to continue. Drellin dared not think she had deceived anyone with the magic of the stone or her lies regarding legends. Yet hope still dangled in front of her, like some kind of ripe, carrot to a rabbit, or delicious cheese to a mouse.

Drellin dared to glance back behind her for just a moment. There it was Balor's ax. Why she had not seen it before surprised her? It had undoubtedly been left lying there on purpose. It was prominently displayed on a soft blue cushion only a few paces from the throne, right out in the open. There was the final goal of her quest. The trap screamed out Drellin's name, with a deafening sound to her soul. Trelonda had more then told all concerned, that Drellin would be here this night. They knew what her quest was and taunted her with the prize. The dark wizard's eyes followed her every step as she walked with the prince. His gaze felt like prickly needles on her skin. The stone around her neck burned much less than before. That was at least a good thing. Drellin was sure now it was a proximity spell. As long as she stayed away from the daze area, the pain decreased. The stone had to be nearly used up by now? Whatever she was going to do, Drellin had better get to it, and swiftly.

The Prince passed the huge piles of food on the main tables. He walked on. They arrived at the long, wide, table. Drellin felt his hand push her down to be seated. It too was full of food, but there were also plates and utensils to eat, set before her. Drellin was appalled at the waste. She could not have possibly eaten all that was in front of her. Even if she tried for the next two seasons, she would fail. It was a mountain. There was just too much food. It would have kept a family of her kind well, through a dark winter with its enormous bounty. Yet, Sandrek the prince acted as if this was an everyday meal to be savored only for the moment and thrown aside at the end.

The Prince sat heavily in the chair next to Drellin. Sandrek munched hungrily on a leg of mutton. Other then the warm meat in his right hand he was also totally, engrossed by her company. Sandrek treated her well and made small talk. She did not have to say much, Sandrek was too enthralled with her looks. That almost made her want, to laugh out loud considering it was all an illusion. Drellin knew she could kill this young man easily if she needed too. It did not matter if Sandrek had a weapon or not, the outcome would be the same. However, that is not what Drellin had come here to do this night.

Parand did not seem to be too worried about his son. That was odd? If he knew who and what she was, did he mean to put Sandrek in danger on purpose? Had the king forgotten all he had learned in his teachings among the masters'? Or, did Parand think she was weak? Did he think she would be easily overpowered? Perhaps it was a test for the Prince of some kind? Her mind whirled with the possibilities. Then, it finally dawned on Drellin clearly. This was, in fact, a banquet for Sandrek. It was a festival for his coming of age after all. The masters of the great forest often put their students in situations of life and death. They were tests, plain and simple. If their students lived, they would be better for it. If they died, it was best to know their weakness and kill only themselves in the process. Parand was using her for his own kind of test. The masters taught reality not humanity or mercy in their syllabus. In a way, this night for Drellin was just another test also. Just like all the rest she had taken and passed all her life.

The curious eyes of the many guests which had starred at Drellin for some time had finally found new excitement to draw their attention away. Several beautiful dancers had entered the hall. They were scantily dressed in veils and colorful ribbon type costumes. Tiny bells lined their skirts and made pleasant sounds as they moved in unison to each other. The music had grown in volume with their arrival to match their mood and rhythm. Drellin could barely hear Sandrek's endless prattle of shallow comments due to the level of noise, even though he sat only a chair away. The center of the hall was awhirl with action, and all seemed focused on its ultimate climax. That is except the old wizard on the daze. Parand was content to watch and wait, but the old one was not, and it was a fact that time was running still. The burden of that truth lingered ominously in the shadows of every moment's passing. Drellin's quest was at hand.

The stone could not hold her present illusion for much longer, Drellin kept reminding herself, trying to gage an opening. Something had to be done. Drellin smiled warmly at the old man from a distance. "He knows!" Drellin's mind screamed. "He has always known, and his patience is thin." Drellin was measuring the possibilities before her with great care. She realized there were already far more guards in the hall than there had been when she first entered it. The situation was only going to get worse the longer she held off. "The ax was bait!" It lay there out in the open, taunting here into action. Drellin's thoughts shifted back to the stone at her neck.

Sandrek, leaned close so that she could hear him clearly as he whispered into her ear, "Yes, I also know who and what you are. They will not try to attack you as long as I sit with you." The young prince smiled a somewhat fake smile. It was an almost friendly expression. "Oh don't look so shocked, I will not let them take you." Then Sandrek paused for effect. "That is until I am ready." The smirk on his face was not pleasant. His handsome features had turned dramatically. They had taken on a sinister look that Drellin had seen before in the slave pens. The kind of look a young girl might fear from the wrong master. Sandrek obviously had his own personal plans for her.

"Fair Prince, I do not know what you mean?" Drellin gained her composure and counted her heart beats to slow them down. No matter what direction she took at this point, getting out of here alive was not going to be easy. It was probably not even possible any longer, but with nothing to lose the scales could only be tipped by harsh resolve. A true lack of fear on her part was easy. Knowing that her death was imminent, gave her both resolve and unwavering courage.

"You see, I want to know what makes you so special. I want to solve a, curiosity. Father has told me all about the teachers in the forest. He has even told me about mutants. The thing I can't believe is why my grandfather would have sent him there in the first place? Why would he have his only son live among the low life, half beings of this world in order to be a better ruler? That is a joke. Talamon, my father has told me all about the tests and the laws of the land. He does not believe what he recites. It is more like a litany he learned to please his father, then a truth." There was an ugly edge of bitterness in the young Prince's tone. Even in the breath of a whisper, Drellin could tell how twisted up the boy was inside. Maybe he believed what he said, or maybe he was actually jealous? Maybe he was angry that he had not been allowed to follow in his father's footsteps. "I have my own plan for the kingdom you see. Shortly, when I replace my father things will be different. Perhaps I might not let them have you at all but keep you. My lady, you might even like it here with me."

The last words told an ugly story of their own. While Sandrek spoke Drellin casually reached up to her neck and unlatched the chain. It fell forward into her open palm. Drellin then calmly lifted up her goblet of wine and drank deeply. It was a sweet draught and a pleasant reminder of better times. Drellin then sat the goblet down rather heavily. "Do you think you can buy your freedom with that trinket?" Sandrek glanced at the emerald. Drellin looked down at the stone and then closed her hand tightly. "You know, I may yet set you free. That is if you do as I say, and you amuse me." Sandrek was all too sure of himself.

Drellin stood abruptly and knocked the chair she was sitting in back to the floor. Sandrek was caught off guard by her actions. She squeezed the stone hard and then threw it toward the center of the room. It hit the solid stone floor in the center of the dancers and shattered. Black, night, filled the hall. Drellin had released all the power left in the stone in one moment. The wizard had realized far too slowly what she was about to do to stop her in time. There were screams from all around, and chaos followed.

In half a beat she had decided to let Sandrek live on. Drellin could have taken his life for no other reason than to hurt Parand. That was not her way. The boy who would be king needed a different lesson than that of life and death. He needed to know that there were other shades besides black and white. There were shades of gray, all kinds. Some in fact so close to black and white they were difficult to see as different at all. It was always there none the less. Right and wrong where often a matter of which side of the great gate you lived on.

Parand would probably have preferred that she killed Sandrek and there was a certain pleasure in disappointing him too. She believed that the king knew she could kill his son. Perhaps he was not ready to give up his thrown to the boy who would be king. Perhaps he even knew of Sandrek's plans on ruling Bracar. Well, Drellin felt that if that was the case, he was going to have to find some other way to take care of his own problems.

Instantaneously the elvin illusion was gone with the stone no longer in Drellin's procession. She leaped across the fallen chair and hit the floor at a dead run. Drellin headed straight for the ax. She let out a horrible scream of triumph and sliced the throat of a huge guard with her short knife. Talamon, the king was shouting orders to all his men to attack but they only stood their ground, lost in the black spell of darkness. They could not see more than just a couple of inches from their own faces. Loyally, however, a few tried to reach the King and Sandrek, the Prince. Each one ended up tripping over guests, tables, chairs or other guards. The trick had not affected the caster as Drellin expected it would not. She could see clearly and wasted no more time in her mission.

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Chapter Eighteen-The Prize

Drellin had her prize in hand. She was also close to Parand. He had grabbed one of the servants, a young boy and held him fast. Drellin realized the young server was now a human shield to a king that feared death. It would have given her great pleasure to kill Talamon, but that was not why Drellin had come to this place. She had not killed his son, and she would not kill him now. They had enough of their own problems. Death would probably find a victim in their family shortly without her hand to assist it. Great power was hard to hold, and even family ties could kill.

The spell of the stone would dissipate soon enough and Drellin wanted to make the most of every moment. Drellin also noted the king's wizard, from her place upon the daze. The man had not moved from his chair. Instead, he just sat there, altogether too calm. Drellin pushed that aside and bent down for the weapon, Balor's ax. She found she wanted to laugh with joy as she touched its handle. Drellin had at least made it this far, and that was so much farther then she thought possible. In fact, the ax lifted easily from the cushion, too easily.

Then, a deafening, roar echoed through the castle proper. It was like the call of a beast straight from the depths of Horren. That was the name pureblood's called hell. Everyone, humans, slaves and mutants alike put their hands over their ears and cowered to the ground. That is, all save, Drellin and the dark wizard. Drellin wanted to join the others, but could not allow herself to falter now. The spell from the green stone had not as yet lifted, and she had to keep moving. The trap however set by the king's wizard had sprung, and she was in it for sure.

In unison, the gates and doors closed and locked all around the palace. An invisible hand, the hand of a wizard's spell, had reached out and moved them all into place. Another deep, ugly growl shook the room once again, and the beast was ever closer. Drellin had never heard the resonance before and could only imagine that it was not of this world. It had to be drawn from the nether place. The world only wizards' dared to tread. Whatever it was in the here and now, it was coming for her.

Drellin grasped the ax tighter and leaped over the guard rolling back and forth on the floor before her. Using all her abilities and experience, Drellin maneuvered to the main hall doorway and out in the walkway beyond. To her left was a wide stairway that looked to be the best path for the moment. She leaped up the incline, taking three steps at a time until she attained the second level.

The corridor before Drellin seemed to stretch on forever in both directions. She trusted her inner intuition. The outside and freedom were to her left. She turned that direction at every chance and ran as hard as she could. Drellin needed to put as much distance between her and the main hall as possible. In her mind's eye she tried to recall the small parchment the elf had given her. That one had been the truth Drellin was sure. Trelonda's map had only helped her define exactly which way her pursuers wanted her to go. There was another horrible snarl from somewhere back the way she had come. Along with it, were frightened screams coming from those she had left behind at the celebration. Whatever creature had been let loose, had found its way to the main hall and the guests did not appreciate the new entertainment.

Then, Drellin found the door she had been seeking. There was a small symbol carved into the upper right corner. It had to have been put there by a creature like herself, as it was the sign for life. It was a sacred symbol among those like her self. Clearly, it was the right one from the map the elf had on him too. Drellin reached up, turned the knob and the latch slid open easily. At the same time, she stepped inside Drellin knew somehow that the lights had returned in the main hall. The spell was finally broken. The stone was gone in its entirety. It was up to her alone now. Drellin had no more magic to help her.

There were torches inside the room where Drellin now stood. The light they cast on everything was eerie and made the air thick and hard to breathe. The room was a bedchamber. In the center, there was a huge bed, piled high with soft pillows. Tapestries lined the walls with pleasant pictures of country scenes and plush rugs covered the floor. There were three chests filled with unknown items on the left side of the room against the wall. To the opposite side was a small balcony which overlooked the courtyard below.

Drellin did not take the obvious escape but went toward the chests instead. She ran her hand along the stones of the wall that still showed between two of the largest tapestries. A large gap, a secret door, appeared. The tiny instructions on the elf's map had been short, but precise. Drellin held her breath and clutched the huge ax tighter than before. Then she entered the secret passageway. A swish sound, and the blocks shifted back into place behind her.

The corridor was longer than the hall she had come through to get here in the first place, or so it seemed. Drellin counted each step carefully. There had been far too many warnings of people who went into a wizard's keep and never came out again. That was, of course, her destination as per the map. Drellin continued to hold her breath. Her lungs burned hard with the desire for air. Drellin held on and kept moving. Her teacher Linnt, the healer and gatherer of herbs, had told terrible stories. Information about potions made by wizards to be inhaled in the dark places as traps. It had been one of his favorite lectures. Linnt had been a tough man to train under. Holding her breath, well that had never occurred to Drellin as a necessary, much less needed skill? Silently the runner smiled. Linnt was a tough man, but he was also smart.

Drellin did not like the idea at first of going into the keep, but there was a certain kind of mad appeal to the whole thing. They would expect her to run from the hall, to attempt escape by way of the fastest route out of the palace. Drellin hoped by avoiding the obvious path, that she had bought herself time. It was a deceptive strategy that could go incredibly wrong. It was also a plan. Having a well laid out plan, promoted confidence that success was even possible. Hope.

Drellin moved as fast as she dared now go. Her eyes had adjusted to the near complete darkness of the passageway, but the violent pounding of her heart was unnerving. Linnt's warning made her continue to hold on just a little longer. Drellin's lungs burned. Nothing she could think of from all her training would work to ease her body. "There it is!" Drellin had arrived at her destination.

"Now all I have to do is pass on through the Wizard's keep, and my freedom lies on the other side." The runner silently assured herself. It sounded so simple when Drellin off-handedly put it in such uncomplicated terms. It was kind of like telling yourself, "everything is going to be okay."

Drellin felt the wall in front of her and found the lever that released the door. The surface slid as before into the wall itself. The entrance to the room was clear. She dared to let go her breath and take in the air. Her training had warned her of such passageways, and surely this wizard was no different from all the rest. Drellin did not intend to be captured by some suffocating magic spell. She stepped down into the room from the secret doorway. A moment later, the wall moved back into place. There was no seam. It was now just gone.

The room was well lit with torches on several of the walls, but the air was a bit fresher in here. That confirmed her suspicion about the passage itself. Her teacher and his stories had come in handy. The balcony on the far side of the room was wider than the last. In fact, it was also just a mere fifteen or twenty paces away from where she now stood. Freedom was close. Then Drellin heard it. The horrible growl from before. Drellin thought she had left the creature back in the hall, but it had followed somehow. It was tracking her. It was altogether too close. How it had found her so quickly was scary. The sound of it made her insides crawl. It was on her trail.

There were dozens, perhaps tens of dozens of scrolls and rolled parchments on several tables. The few she could see quickly were in many languages that she did not know. Drellin loved old things, and this place would have been a treat in a different time. All the walls were lined with real, hardbound books from far away places in the world. The king may have a treasury filled with gold and silver, but this was the true worth of Bracar. Pushing her love of knowledge aside in favor of just staying alive, Drellin ran across the room and leaped toward the balcony.

A huge dog beast, burst into the room through yet another entrance at the far end. It came through just as Drellin had reached the terrace proper. The massive size of the foul thing was mythical in proportion. Where had such a thing come from? Drellin dared to question, fleetingly. That wizard must be more then what he had appeared to be by far, to have such a beast at his command? It was easily twice the height of Norban himself. It glared at her with bright red, malicious eyes. Its mouth gaped open showing razor sharp teeth, ready to tare and shear her flesh into pieces.

Drellin did not wait for it to pounce but jumped over the rail. She knew it had bounded toward her at the same time she had leaped. That could not be helped. Time was everything, hesitation was sure death. Drellin almost made it clear, but not quite. It was not the pain of fangs or claws that burned in her side. It was the pain of a real dagger, sharp and metallic. There had been an unseen servant. Perhaps he had been invisible by way of some magic cast by the wizard? Or simply hiding in the shadows waiting for the right time. The attacker had counted on the illusion to focus Drellin's attention toward the incredible animal. He had been correct for Drellin had become vulnerable. She had allowed herself to be lost in the moment of confrontation. Drellin's own experiences in life should have told her it was not the only enemy in the room. In fact that it was probably not the worst threat. Yet the visible, danger had guided her actions. The man had done his job well, for he had successfully driven the blade deep inside her body. It had slipped right between her lower left ribs.

Drellin hit the ground below hard and rolled the best she could to break her fall. Swiftly she grasped the evil weapon and pulled it from her side. That might have been a mistake because blood poured from the hole. However, Drellin knew she could not run with it in place. She dropped the blade to the ground, and the metal made an unpleasant clanking noise. A wave of dizziness took her for a moment or two into the blackness. Drellin fought it off and shook her head hard. She had not come this far too fail. Gathering all her remaining reserves, she pressed her right hand to her side to slow the bleeding. Then she clutched Balor's ax in her left hand with a grip of death. If she did not make it out of the city, they would have to pry it from her grasp. That did not leave her with any hand left to fight. Holding the ax was one thing, but Drellin had no hope at all of wielding it. She would have to count on sheer stealth to get out of the city.

"The monster had been an illusion! How stupid I have been!" Drellin nearly laughed out loud at herself. That is, if it were not for the pain she would have. The terrible throbbing was no illusion. "It had all been a trick!" Drellin had let her fear of Bracar, the palace, the king and especially the wizard get, out of hand. She had been so caught up in her own illusion she had not seen any other for what it truly, was in the end. Drellin pushed all that aside for the moment. Some part of her tried to hang on to the one fact that was most important. Drellin had the ax. She moved as rapidly as she could, back down the avenue the way she had come earlier. The city felt larger than ever, and the forest was surely on the other side of the world, or so it seemed. Regardless, Drellin steadied her thoughts and focused on escape. She unrelenting moved forward the best speed and secrecy she could muster. It was a bit like placing one foot in front of the other and trusting the direction of her instincts alone.

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Chapter Nineteen-The Escape

In the deep of the night, the sounds of running feet carried like thunder. The walls of the city bounced the echo back and forth, creating unnerving, unclear surreal enemies. It was difficult to be sure in her present condition which way her pursuers were coming from at all. They could not be far behind no matter what. Drellin knew that. Her warm blood ran freely down her side from the deep wound. She dared not stop or even slow down to do much about it. They would spot the blood and realize exactly how close they were she feared. There was nothing Drellin could do about that but move faster. That, however, was a tall order. Balor's ax had grown heavier and more of a burden with every step. It was funny Drellin thought silently, that the weapon had not felt so weighty when she had first lifted it from the cushion. Now it dragged her down as if it were made of solid stone.

Time passed in a slow unnatural fashion. The streets were veiled in fog, and the cold mist Drellin had hated all her life. Funny it now felt almost comforting somehow. She rounded the next, street corner, and braced herself upright against a shop wall. There it was before her. Bracar's north gate was no more than another three hundred paces, or so in front of Drellin. How she had made it to the right place and especially this far without passing out was a sheer miracle. Drellin's freedom lay close, and that gave her an adrenalin rush which fueled her on.

In the back of her mind, she pushed away her shame. Drellin would not be in this mess if she had, paid better attention. It was her own fear that had gotten to her an enabled the wizard's illusion to have such power. Because of that, the success of this night was in jeopardy. It felt so odd to Drellin that she had been fooled so easily. Drellin did not like the thought of facing Shendar either, even if she did make it to his forest keep. What pride, what arrogance to believe she could use magic and not have it so used against her? Illusions were strange. They fed on the victims they deceived. She had expected Shendar's stone to work the way it had without question. Drellin did not expect that her own dread of the wizard, the castle and the king would be made manifest against her too.

The steps that followed Drellin were closer now than before. They sounded more like only two or three guards then the full detail she thought the king would have sent. The north gate stood open, and that was a grain of hope in and of itself. However, there were far too many guards posted around the area, waiting. Perhaps that is why Drellin heard only a few following. They had simply decided to block her escape and wait it out. The gate being left open was an invitation. Drellin sized up the wall of the city as far as she could see in either direction. The actual, battlements were reasonably empty. Was that yet another deception, another trick to catch her? Drellin felt shaky, and the cold made her bones ache. Drellin could not wait until daylight, for she would stand out like a beacon among the humans. It was now or never.

Drellin worked her way across the street to the right side and down a few buildings. Then with as much stealth as she could still gather, Drellin crossed to the outer wall. She laid the great ax down for only a moment, just long enough to release her belt. Then Drellin quickly tied the weapon with the length of leather to her back for safekeeping. This climb was going to be hard, and it would take both her hands-free. She pulled out two, elegant thief style climbing spikes. One from each boot. Drellin then took five deep long breaths and began to climb. It felt like the wall got taller, or more likely she got weaker with each handhold.

Drellin attained the narrow walkway at the top edge. She dared for half a moment to look back toward the city. There were several fires, like great glowing suns scattered on the horizon. They lit up the sky quite brightly, even with the fog and last hours of the night. They were slowly consuming the shops in the distance and Drellin was sure they were located near the palace too. There were screams and panic in the streets. Not to mention her animal friends were doing their best even now. Perhaps it was a stroke of good fortune or more than likely it was merely unexpected help. The sources of that assistance she had no clue. Yet, Drellin realized some were on her side. No one had told her about the man at the gate either. He had helped her enter the palace. Maybe there were yet others taking a hand in her escape. The fires were a perfect diversion regardless and she found herself more than a little thankful.

Drellin's wound hurt badly. If she gave into it now, it would engulf her completely and send her deep into unconsciousness. If that happened, there was little chance she would ever wake again. Drellin was not going to go down that path if she could help it. So she turned with renewed strength of will alone, toward freedom. It was evident to her that she no longer had the power in her arms to use the thief spikes, so she glanced about for another way down. There, some several feet away on the high, thin walk was a pile of netting. Drellin could not think of anything the guards would have used it for up here on the battlements. Perhaps it had something to do with the slavers and the block she had passed on her way into the city with Annon. It did not matter. Now, it would serve her needs nicely.

Drellin dragged the heavy mesh to the edge that faced the plains and forest beyond. Then she tied one loop on a wooden wall pike that strutted out on the outer, edge. The ugly jagged poles were put there, built into the wall every so many foot to repel enemies. It was in case the city came under siege. It was ironic Drellin thought, that she would use one to help in her escape. She kicked the rest of the heavy material over the side. It dropped into the darkness beyond without notice. Time moved so sluggishly by as if she walked somewhere within a dream. She felt strangely detached. The sun was coming up, and it was not her friend this day. She had to keep moving. Drellin grasped the first loop in both hands with Balor's ax still strapped securely to her back and dropped over the edge. The shadow of the wall hid her passing.

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Chapter Twenty-Norban Gets a New Rider

Annon looked out the small window of the upstairs room over the tavern. Talma was still sound asleep in the small bed. They had all traveled a long way to get to this place, this city of Bracar. It had taken a heavy toll. Annon found he was more than a little angry that Drellin had gone off earlier on her own. The boy had been safe enough, but he had asked her to wait. It must have been important, or she would not have left. At least that is what he told himself. They had not been companions together that long, but he felt sure of that one fact. She would not have left otherwise. Everything was quiet in the main room downstairs. At least that is how things sounded to Annon as he listened with all his, hunter's skill. It was only a few hours before dawn.

The fighter found himself in a bad place. Annon was torn between loyalties. Some part of him wanted to go after Drellin. He wanted, to track her down and make sure she was okay. It was a larger part then Annon wanted or cared to admit. The fact was Talma still depended on him heavily. He could not let down the boy at this point. Then there was the fact that Annon just simply did not know where to go or where to look in this vast city. It had taken him several hours to find his uncle. It had not been as hard as Annon had expected it would be, but it had not been altogether, easy either.

Vorin was a great man of learning in Annon's homeland. The fighter had figured correctly, that where there were books, scrolls and maps he would find his blood kin. His instincts had been right on. There was no better source for such important things in this land then the palace itself for information. It had not taken much persuasion to get past the guards, once they knew he was a blood kinsman of the great Vorin, wise man of the Isle. Well, that is what they called him at the gate. Annon had been ushered straight into the wizard's keep. That would not have been a place Annon wanted to be usually, but to his shock and surprise, it was the very residence of his uncle.

Vorin had been more than pleased to see his nephew, and together they talked for several hours. Like Annon, Vorin had found life on the Isle of Kings hard. Because he was the younger brother of Annon's own father, the man would never be king. It was much the same way Annon would not likely find himself on the thrown. He had too many brothers in line before him. That did not seem to bother his uncle, because he had come into his own here in the city of Bracar.

Annon found out that the old wizard, Polletto had only passed away a few months ago. He had died of an unknown ailment. Vorin, had been in the palace at the time by coincidence of course. Maybe it was by design. Only Vorin knew the truth. He had returned from their homeland on the Isle. The situation had been perfect for his uncle to assume the position. In the months prior to, Polletto's death, Vorin had worked with the antiquated user of magic. He had become both friend and apprentice in a fashion. His uncle had learned quite a bit in the time he had spent with Polletto. Annon's uncle did not actually know too much magic, but he was well read and understood concepts easily. Many of the scrolls' were magic themselves.

While Vorin and Annon talked, his uncle entrusted him with a great secret. Vorin said, "If a man knew or could learn many languages, he could ultimately read the magic held, nay locked on a paper or scroll, and perform great tricks." By his way of thinking and a small amount of persuasion Vorin had convinced the king of just that fact. The tricks Vorin had spoken of would be enough to protect the King of Bracar. Well, at least that is what Vorin believed. That is also what Vorin had wanted all along. He needed the king of Bracar to need him, and with Polletto's death, that was assured.

Annon in return for his trust had told Vorin that afternoon of his own adventures in the north country. He talked lightly of home because the subject hurt both of them in some fashion. They shared a deep love of the Isle but knew their destinies' where along different paths than that of home. Lastly, Annon had spoken of Drellin. He had always thought well of his uncle and knew he could trust him. Up until now, he had never had any reason not too. Annon knew also that he had very little knowledge of women and found his heart in turmoil over the girl, the fighter, the companion and ultimately the woman. She had ridden the last several days together with him and Talma, yet she was so mysterious.

On the one hand, he had found out quite a bit about her past. He also noted, how she treated strangers that she had just met. Drellin had a strong belief in right and wrong as a whole and most importantly that she was alive with spirit. Drellin had shown loyalty, courage, strength, and compassion. They were all traits that Annon admired. The fact that she was also incredibly beautiful to boot was somewhat daunting.

Vorin was more interested then Annon imagined he would be or actually should be. At some point, he had begun to regret speaking of her to his own kin. Why Annon felt that way, he could not tell. Vorin did give him advice none the less. He repeatedly tried to tell Annon not to trust her. He was also a bit too curious as to where Drellin was at the moment. Annon could tell the conversation was not going well by that time and quickly pressed to leave. Vorin let him go without openly attempting to stop him, yet Annon was sure there had been a point, things had gone wrong. He was also convinced that if they had not been blood kin, he would not have found leaving so easy in the end.

Annon left the wizard's keep, with a haunted look on his face. All he could center his thoughts on was the conversation. Vorin had told him repeatedly not to trust Drellin. The funny part is that they had never met each other, Vorin and Drellin. Well, that was that Annon was aware of anyway. Why would his uncle be so adamant about the girl being wrong or bad? Annon had expressed that he merely wanted to know about that all too magic feeling called love? Had he fallen in love? Annon never expected to do that with anyone outside the Isle. The wild, huntress that had snared his heart was another matter. He wanted to know if it were real or some kind of spell? Vorin was more worried that it was her directly that was dangerous, a person he had never met. That added to his own confusion and Annon was no closer to an answer then before he had come to the City of Bracar.

On the way out of the grand palace, Annon was surprised to see all the servants bustling about. There was going to be a huge celebration this very night. Vorin had mentioned that it was the Prince's birthday. He had even half-heartedly asked Annon to stay. The fighter just did not feel comfortable, and he wanted to get back to Drellin and Talma. The hours had passed too quickly. Drellin would be very mad he thought to himself. Talma was not too hard to take care of generally, but he did tend to find ways to get into trouble.

Annon returned to the tavern about dinner time, back from the palace. At first, he suspected that he had been followed, but could not pick out anyone specific. Annon brushed it aside and chalked it up to his odd meeting with his uncle. It had left him with a bad, reaction in the pit of his stomach. Upon his arrival, Annon had found out from Talma that Drellin had gone sometime before. The boy was not specific about when because he had not actually seen her leave. Talma finally admitted that he had been sleeping. Annon had not said too much after that short confrontation over the way things had gone.

Then the man and the boy had taken a meal together in their room. They had eaten in complete silence. Talma could tell that Annon was angry still, but he did know exactly why. After they ate, the boy went back to bed. The trip had taken much from him. He was still weak from being injured. The night was so cold, and the bed was warm and welcome compared to the many nights before. They had all slept out on the hard ground. Annon, however, had posted himself at the window ever since. He waited. Hours he waited. He waited for her.

The boy snored, a low, mournful sawing sound. It made the fighter admit to himself that he had been too hard on Talma. It was not the boy's fault that Drellin had left. He promised himself there and then to make it up to the kid later. Then just as Annon was about to try to join his noisy roommate for a bit of rest, he noticed several fires in the distance. They caught his attention just as he was thinking about going to bed. He starred out now more interested than before. Something told him inside that this new turn of events had to do with Drellin. Exactly how, he was not sure.

The sounds of fighting men, perhaps guards were also getting closer. That just reconfirmed his suspicion. Only Drellin could cause such a ruckus. Annon found he smiled at the mere thought. She sure could be trouble when she wanted to be? Annon could hear other screams in the distance. The fires were causing quite a panic. Annon was not too concerned about Talma and himself as yet. The danger was definitely still some distance away. The street directly below his vantage point swirled a bit. The mist had lingered long, like a heavy-handed fog that refused to let go of the buildings. Every now and then he saw a figure pass, but the real commotion was several sections away.

The longer Annon stayed at the window, the more he felt an odd hate for what was happening. The screams in the distance had become much clearer, and the words he heard intermixed within their awful howls were ugly. "Mutant," "Half Breed", "Slave" and "Runner." It dawned clearly on the fighter that these people, these humans of Bracar were the real problem. It was they that acted like animals and low, halfling things. Worst of all, he realized that Drellin was undoubtedly at the center of it. Before when he had laughed at the thought, Annon found himself now more than concerned. He was outright worried. It was all too obvious to Annon that Drellin was not human of course. He had known but did not want to admit it.

Below, in the dim light from the two small lanterns of the tavern, Annon could just make out the figure of a horse and rider. The mist-veiled much even at this reasonably close range. Annon strained hard, but could not be sure who it was. He found that he wanted to believe it was Drellin returning, but the rider did not quite look tall enough in the saddle. He glanced back at the bed in the far corner. Talma was still softly snoring away. Annon pulled his attention from the window and headed for the door. More as a reflex than an actual intent, Annon strapped on his short sword but left the long blade propped against the wall. Trouble was running high this night, and he did not want to meet it empty-handed. He opened the door soundlessly and stepped out into the hall. All was quiet, and there was no one about to notice his passing. That was somewhat comforting. Annon crept closer to the opening at the top of the old stairwell. He carefully peered down into the main room below.

With each step he took forward Annon found it harder to focus on his path. In the back of his mind, he was still heavily plagued by the words he had exchanged with Vorin. His uncle had said something just before Annon had left the palace that stayed with him. It was like a dark shadow. Annon did not even want to admit it. Vorin had said, "All love is and was a choice." It did not exactly feel at the time like the new king's wizard was speaking about the kind of love a man has for a woman. The words moved around in Annon's mind back and forth. They were a dozen pieces of the same conversation which finally formed to create a finished puzzle.

Vorin was trying to reach him in a different way, then speaking plainly. He was trying to make him think. Perhaps it was a message he wanted to give his nephew out of some blood loyalty without others knowing the intention. Annon would have to make a choice between the love of his kind and that of the others, not of true, blood. Drellin was one of those pieces. Annon did not like the picture, his uncle had shown him. The end product was ugly if seen through honest eyes. Annon would have to make a choice between humans and what he felt for Drellin.

A grin found its way to the man's handsome features. "No contest." He openly smiled as he thought of her now. "There is no choice to be made, or if there ever was one, I made it long ago." The fear Annon had so concerned himself with earlier that day that she had put some kind of spell on his heart was true. The spell was not wizard's magic but life magic. Annon admitted to himself with conviction, that he was in love. With that admonition, came a kind of freedom. The shadow that Vorin had placed on his thoughts and even on his heart, lifted.

Annon continued down the stairwell. He finally let go his misgivings and grasped the here and now tightly. He was mindful of the present. Annon needed to find out the identity of the rider that had just come up to the front of the tavern. If it were not Drellin, and he dared to let himself hope that it was, then he would just find her, no matter where she had gone.

Annon arrived at the bottom of the stair, glanced from right to left and took in as much of the room as possible. Satisfied that no one was about, he pressed on across the open area and through the double wood doors beyond. He came up short when he was confronted with Norban. That is to say Norban, but not Drellin. The rider was a young man, perhaps only a couple seasons older the Talma. Annon felt a huge lump in his throat. If she were not with the horse, then she was in trouble deeper then he cared to think about. This was an ill tiding indeed.

"Are you Annon?" The youth stuttered just a bit. The fighter did not believe it was from the cold. The haunted look on the rider's face told a story all by itself. "I was to bring this horse to you." Marn gathered his courage, lifted his leg over the saddle and slid to the hard ground. He did not even wait for a response from Annon, but simply turned back the way he had come from and walked into the thick mist.

Annon found himself rooted in that same spot for several very long seconds. He watched the young man disappear, swallowed up. The screams that had been so far away only a short time ago were defiantly louder now. It sounded like a mob, or even a hunting pack of some type, seeking a victim. One long, deep breath woke him from his stupor. Annon tied Norban to the rail. Then swiftly turned on one heel and went back into the tavern. He took the stairs two at a time with no trouble. Annon forced himself to slow down when he finally reached the room Talma was sleeping in. There was no reason to alarm the boy. He turned the knob and went inside.

Deliberately he gathered his and Talma's things together. He found Drellin's whip. It was just there, right there in front of him. It yelled answers to questions he did not want to ask. In one motion, he grasped it tight and stuffed it in his own bag. Every few minutes he dared glance out the small window back down the street toward the way the young man had gone. He also looked straight down and checked on Norban who was waiting patiently below. The screams and angry voices had no effect on the horse at all. Annon admired his training. The fires in the distance that Annon had seen earlier still glowed, a friendly, bright color. They had not spread very far, to the fighter's surprise. He had expected the blaze to be out of control by now, considering that there were so many wood buildings in Bracar.

Finally, Annon walked to Talma's bedside and shook the boy awake. "We have to leave." He kept his tone level, but there was no questioning his intent. Talma did not even try. The youth had been on the road with this fighter long enough to know when to follow a command. Talma would like to have asked about Drellin, but clearly, the timing was all wrong. He got out of bed and dressed as swiftly as he could.

A few minutes later, Talma was ready and together the two companions headed out of the room and down the stair. Annon stopped briefly at the bottom landing to make sure there was still no one about. There were sounds in the kitchen on the other end. Nothing or in this case, no one else to bother them as they passed. Then he went straight out the front door with Talma on his heels. Once outside, Talma noticed the huge horse that belonged to Drellin. Now more then ever he wanted to ask where she was, but one quick look at Annon told him it was a bad subject. In fact, pressing the fighter now might even make him mad.

"You will ride Norban," Annon stated in a steady voice. "Wait here, and I will get my horse." Talma did just that, waited. The boy moved across the short space of the wood porch walkway and stood next to Norban. Annon thought for a brief moment, how small the boy was yet how much he had grown since that day at the settlement in the north wood. The fighter walked on around the right side of the tavern. There was a small alleyway there. At the end of the dark path was a wood structure, built poorly but secure enough to keep the weather out, mostly anyway. Just inside Annon had boarded Morgane earlier that evening. At this point, Annon guessed it was more like yesterday then that same day now.

The sky above was getting ever so slightly lighter, promising a clear and bright day ahead. The mist was also quite a bit less thick at this point, which was fine for Annon and the boy to travel by. However, Annon wondered if the clearing of the morning sky would go badly for Drellin. Perhaps she was counting on the foul weather? Funny thing was it changed so quickly from rain to sun and back again in this part of the world, yet always the wrong way you needed it to be.

Finally, he was standing at Morgane's side in the tiny makeshift stable. Annon gave his great, war horse an affectionate pat on the nose before he put the heavy saddle on his back. Then, he grabbed the reigns and led the animal back down the little walkway path that led to the front of the tavern. Talma had not moved at all from where he had left him only a few minutes before. Annon tried to drum up an unworried half smile for the boy's behalf. It probably did not work, because Talma still looked a cross between frightened to death and too tired to be up this early.

"We need to be on the road," Annon spoke in a matter of fact manner. "Drellin will meet up with us shortly. She sent Norban back so that you could take care of him for her." He could see that last bit got to the boy. A broad smile crossed Talma's features.

"Really? Drellin wants me to take care of him?" Talma moved to Norban's side. It took quite a bit of effort and a couple of attempts, but Talma finally gained the saddle. "I can handle it. She can count on me for sure."

Annon knew that the horse was more likely to take care of the boy then visa versa. He did not say that out loud. Annon mounted his, own great steed and kicked its flanks lightly. Together they started off toward the gate they had initially entered the city by. Norban did not wait for Talma to signal what he should do as Morgane moved off. Norban simply fell into step behind Morgane as if it were the right thing without question. The weight of the boy on his back was nothing, but in his own way, he moved a bit slower. Norban could not remember a time without Drellin. This made him uneasy, but she would not have sent him down this path if it were not her wish. He merely longed for her return in his own way.

Annon and Talma finally turned down the main street they had entered the city by only yesterday. To the fighter, it felt like they had overstayed their welcome in this place by a full lifetime. The air now held quite a bit of ash from the fires here on this side of town. It was obviously from the many burning buildings Annon had seen ablaze earlier from the Tavern's window. It floated down from the sky and mixed with the remainder of the fog in an unsightly fashion. The stuff swirled unnaturally together like a gray, dirty, sticky drizzle. It also made the air thick and hard to breathe.

The tavern may have been quiet when they left, but it would not last. If the fire continued at its present rate, significant portions of the city would be lost. Annon figured that what remained of the mist was still a good thing for the residents here in Bracar. It would help keep the flames at bay until they could put them out. As for himself, he longed for the fresh air of the countryside. He also longed for the green grass and tall trees that went with it. Most of all he longed for Drellin's company.

There were more people along this road than the rest. The closer they came to the gate the more he heard angry people here and there. The bits and pieces of the conversations he caught all went along the same line. A mutant had been in the city lose. It had killed or murdered several guards without mercy. It had even dared enter the palace and threaten the King of Bracar. Something told Annon that the story was probably more than a little exaggerated. He knew she would not hesitate to kill, but Annon had never seen her do it other than in self-defense.

Annon and the boy came at last to the north gate. It was open, and that was more than welcome sight to both companions. The two guards gave them a suspicious glare. The tallest one stepped forward at the last minute. "Hail! Where are you going stranger's."

The fighter did not slow his horse down at all and Norban followed Morgane's every move. Annon rode down the center of the road, much like he owned the whole thing. At the last moment when he was quite close to the guard, Annon turned and gave him a hard look. All the time his horse continued on without hesitation. Annon's right hand rested comfortably on the hilt of his sword. There was no outward challenge, but the overt action to the guard's question was enough.

The gateman sized the warrior up and swiftly made some inner, decision. His life was worth a bit more than to hassle with this stranger. Besides he was no mutant and after all that is what they were looking for, was it not? He stepped back into the shadow and called to his fellow gatekeeper, "Let them pass." Annon and the boy went on through without further question, out of Bracar. They were both glad to be rid of the city. Secretly the boy chided himself, that he thought it had been so very, beautiful only yesterday. Now, however, he too longed for the deep woods.

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Chapter Twenty One-Found

Drellin collapsed heavily upon the forest floor. The hard ground was actually welcome. The smell of green grass, broadleaf fern and especially trees, real trees assaulted her senses. Black darkness seized Drellin quickly as she felt herself slip away. Some part of her still tried to fight and hang on, but all she could hear was a sad muffled cry. It was her, own.

After a long time, the sobbing ceased. Drellin dared to open her eyes, or at least she thought she did. Her hopes lifted. Drellin found she was back. She was back up on the ridge overlooking the endless valley. It was the same place she had left Shendar years ago. From that place, a rider could take in the view of the entire valley of Omirin, so beautiful and so endless. She dared to turn her head to her right, where she half expected to see her teacher. Well at least in her memory. Shendar was there. Drellin realized it was either high magic or plain, memory at that point. Perhaps she was closer to dying then she had counted on? The survivor in her told her it was not worth questioning, just accepting at this point.

Shendar's ever deep, and commanding, voice, spoke. "Where and why do you ride, my little princess of the vast forest?" That was the exact same question he had asked the day she had begun her run. It gave more weight to the possibility this was only a memory, but she still dared not ponder the moment too hard. It was pleasant just to live it or even re-live it, no matter which.

Drellin found her self uncontrollably pleading to him. It was, of course, the wrong thing to do even if she were really in his company. Shendar had taught her better. He despised weakness, but the weakness of her soul was all there was left at this point. "Shendar, please help me. The ax is so heavy. I did all that you asked of me. Now please help me. Please!" He did not move of course. Shendar did not even look at her straight in the face. The moment was more like the memory than ever. Drellin felt a wave of dizziness and then the welcome black. It was a kind of sleep, a sleep that was without dreams and without rest of any kind.

Drellin woke, lifted her head from the dirt and the world swam by before her eyes. She closed them tightly once again for only a few moments longer and tried to clear her thoughts. Drellin heard horses. They were still tracking her. How long had she lain in the dirt and thick mud? How close were the riders? It did not matter she had to keep moving. The wound in her side had stopped pounding, and the pain had become less. It was a dull continuous ache now. She could almost handle that, considering everything else. Drellin dared to open her eyes again and found the world had slowed down quite a bit. For that Drellin voiced a prayer of thanks.

She gathered her remaining strength what little there was left and tried to rise. It did not happen. Drellin laid her head back down once again upon the hard ground. She realized she had no other choice but to stay where she was and let them find her. That made her mad. It made her so very angry that she had come so far and still failed. The pain once again grew in intensity. Perhaps it was the movement of trying to rise, but unconsciousness took her.

The Saltrana River lay directly in front of Drellin, upon the morning of the fifth day out from the City of Bracar. She could not truly remember how she had gotten here, to this place. Part of her tried to recall what had happened or how she had made the journey this far, but it was all a gray, haze. Drellin knew she had come, a great distance, but what had happened evaded her completely. She staggered painfully across the small clearing to the water's edge. It was such a welcome site. The cool, clear water of the Saltrana rushing by was like a healers remedy to her very soul.

Drellin bent down on her knees and scooped up a drink with both hands cupped together tightly. The water was ice cold. A fine wine never tasted so sweet. She let herself relax for just a moment. Drellin needed it. She finally sat down heavily there on the bank. It was a pleasant spot. The trees around her were old and brought a kind of peace to the area. There were even a few birds playing in the boughs above Drellin's head. After a while, she dared to glance down at her wound. It had quit bleeding and clotted, but it looked ugly. If she did not tend to it soon, it would be the death of her. Drellin did not have her healing pouches. In fact, she had almost nothing on her except the ax. Almost as an afterthought Drellin felt the heavy leather belt across her torso and ran her hand up to the hilt. It was still there strapped securely. That fact brought even a greater, sense of relief and peace then the water before her now.

Drellin dared to take a long rest. Well, several minutes anyway seemed long by the standards of the last few days. Then she heard the clear sound of horses. It broke the moment like ice breaks on a winter lake. The nightmare just would not end for Drellin. She realized the guards or the hunters whomever "they" were would catch her if she did not cross the river. Determined not to fail Drellin, rose to her feet slowly and methodically. There was a dull numbness in her legs now, from sitting too long. It hurt to walk, and running was out of the question. The pain in her side throbbed, but it was not overpowering. For that Drellin was more than a little thankful. She could not comprehend how she had possibly evaded them thus far, but she would not give up now. Drellin clutched at her last chance.

The renewed peace of the clearing had given her one more gift of hope. The deep water ran quickly before her eyes. Its color was clear and murky all at the same time. The winter runoff was causing currents of dark mud to streak the pleasant surface. It was unsettling to be sure. It did not stop Drellin. She stepped gently into the water without hesitation. The cold did not take long to seep into her bones. Drellin hated the cold. The river was no more than fifty feet or so across at this point, but it felt like much further than that to her.

Exhausted beyond thought, Drellin was only about halfway across when she felt her legs give way from beneath her shaking body. The cold liquid quietly covered her brow taking her down into the depths and to her death. Well, at least she thought in her final moments that the ax, would not be in the hands of Bracar's king. That was worth dying for. Perhaps Shendar would look kindly on her in the afterworld if she ever met him there.

Strong, muscular hands grasped Drellin firmly around the middle. With amazing, gentleness she was pulled from Saltrana. It would not be her fate this day to meet the water king or pass beyond to the afterworld. Drellin sputtered hard and felt her lungs burn with the effort. Her inner self would not give up. Another chance of hope and life presented itself, Drellin grabbed it. After many attempts air finally replaced the icy water and her breath returned. She gulped it in desperately.

That was the end of her strength. She could not resist the powerful hold she felt on her body, nor open her eyes to take in her own surroundings. The sounds of horses that she had feared moments before battered against her mind. There was a certain kind of relief with that sound. First, whomever the riders were had saved her from certain death and secondly charn did not ride. The worst case was that hunters or even the palace guards had caught up to her. Either would have had good reason to save her she guessed.

The first group would be to gain money and the second would be the admiration of Bracar's king. Well, if that were the case, they should have let her die. Drellin told herself that as soon as she could overcome her weakness, she would get free again. She had after all escaped Bracar and made it this far in pretty poor condition. That was no small feat.

"Balor's ax?" Drellin found enough energy to panic inside if not out. "Have I lost it?!" Frantically she tried to remember the last time its weight laid upon her back. No matter how she tried she could not even open her eyes to check. Ever so slowly, unconsciousness stopped her worries altogether. Her fight for freedom and the end of her quest had come for now.

"Will she live?" Talma, the boy asked, filled with concern. He stood nearby holding Norban and Morgane's reigns tightly. His face was lightly streaked with tears. Annon and Drellin were the closest thing, he had left in the world to a family. He was not ready to lose them, either one of them.

The fighter carried Drellin to the bank side, sat her down and untied the broad leather strap that was hooked around her body tightly. Annon removed the huge ax and laid it upon the hard ground. He then gently picked her back up in his arms and carried her close to his broad chest. She was a treasure lost and then, found to him. He was as careful as he could be. "I don't know, I just don't know!" Annon's reply to Talma's question was faint. Annon walked a few more feet from the water's edge and laid her lithe body down upon a warm fur. He had spread his own blanket for his lost love. Her skin was so cold to the touch, he feared she may never wake. The warrior brushed that thought aside, stood up and looked back at the boy. "Get her blanket from Norban's saddle. Cover her with it and then start the fire. Keep it low, we don't want company at this point." Annon felt better already. Getting off the subject of death was a good medicine to begin with and keeping off it was his intention altogether.

Talma jumped at Annon's command. He needed to be doing something. He was so glad to see Drellin that he wanted to hug her there and then. However, it was not the time. She had to rest, and he was going to make that rest all that it could be. Besides, even a young boy knew when it was time to be quiet on occasion. Annon's face told a story all its own and Talma realized once again that further questions would be of no use. He turned to Norban and pulled down the thick wool blanket. Walked to her side and covered her up the best he could. Then Talma moved off into the woods to gather wood for a fire. He could not help but feel some relief. They had finally found her after days of tracking.

Annon had grumbled at times and even marveled at other instances during the journey here, ever on her heels. Drellin was like no fighter or hunter he had ever seen in his travels. She had so much power of will, it amazed them both. Talma just found that he had two very, powerful heroes to look up too. That made him very happy indeed. With that thought strong inside him, Talma moved all the faster to set up a small camp around the only two people he cared for in this world.

Norban moved to Drellin side and stood close at hand. The great, horse was glad to see her too. The beast would not leave her side now that he had found his master once again. Talma had been kind to him, and that was the truth. No matter, Drellin was his rider and would remain so until her death, his death or both.

Annon had moved back to the water's edge after giving his orders to Talma. He stood over the ax looking down at the weapon. It had been the cause of everything. The man knew that now. The man thought it started with his desire to see his uncle, but he should have questioned her intentions to follow so easily into the city. If he had only admitted to himself that he loved her long before, perhaps he would not have allowed her to enter Bracar at all. Something told him that she would still have gone. The weapon there before him on the ground would have drawn, her to that path. Well, there was one thing for sure, when she woke up Drellin was going to have to answer a few of his questions. He was going to tie her up and keep her in one place for a bit if necessary. That thought almost made him laugh out loud.

The fighter reached down and grasped the handle of Balor's ax. It felt good in his hand. There was a kind of power that coursed through its wooden surface and directly into the Annon's body. It dawned on Annon that it was more than likely the reason Drellin hand made it so far. The power made him feel good. It probably had helped her maintain energy to keep going when any other fighting man he knew would have given up and died. Annon walked back to Drellin's side. He bent down quickly and placed its handle within her reach. Drellin would want to know where it was when she woke, and Annon was going to make sure she knew.

The day passed without incident and the night closed in upon their small group. Annon had sat for hours now by Drellin's side, most of that time arguing with himself. He wished he could have changed some part of the past to prevent this whole event. Annon knew that was impossible, but he dwelt on the idea. As he and the boy had trailed after Drellin, Annon had thought her dead several times. He had almost given up, but his heart would not let him stop looking. That and the boy had given him a kind of strength to believe too.

Talma had survived death at the settlement, and his faith was strong. He had even told Annon that there had been some reason for it all. The fact that Drellin and the fighter had found him and saved his life was no coincidence to the boy. He had talked fiercely about that fact often over the last few days. Annon held onto hope if only in desperation. It amazed him, the feelings inside that he felt for this creature, this mutant, named Drellin. All his life he had been taught the law against letting a thing live. This was not the dangerous animal he had been led to believe, his entire life. She was a woman, plain and simple.

Annon continued in silence to keep guard a few feet from her side, his back propped against a large rock. Norban too continued at all times to stay close by his friend and master. Talma went about trying to make the camp more comfortable for his companions. It was good to keep busy for the boy. Drellin had traveled in the dark forest of the north wood for five solid days, five days! Annon was bewildered by her, in so many ways. The slash in her side was enough to stop most fighters her size twice over. Why had she carried the ax? The thing was huge. She could not possibly have wielded it with any accuracy. Why would she leave her Thunder Whip and horse to go after it in the first place? Boy, when she woke up, he was going to get some answers.

In the black, far away, darkness, of her mind Drellin felt the trap close around her. She told her self she was only asleep, but her body told Drellin that she might die. Drellin then woke without waking in a clearing where silence ruled. Everything had a faint discoloration to it. The trees and grass had a surreal tint, unnatural and unsettling. Then it began. It started with the wound in her side. It suddenly burned hotter, and the overall pain intensified abruptly. A creature, scaled from head to foot appeared in front of her, hunched over slightly, resting on its back legs. The beast was only a handful of paces away. The thing's ears were sharply pointed, and its eyes were too large for its face. It lay half hidden in a mist of its own making. Huge wings sprung outward from the creature's broad back. Talons as sharp as throwing daggers, glistened as if made of polished bronze. It spoke! Like hard rock grinding on a gristmill, an altogether chilling noise, "Drellin! Come, and I will make your pain leave you! Come to me, and I will make you human. Annon would wish that! Do not look surprised, I can read your mind very easily, perhaps better than you, yourself can! You love him, don't you? Come I will help you. Yes, and take away the pain!" The hideous laughter that followed turned her insides cold.

"No!" Drellin found her voice, and shouted within her mind. You are him or one of his minions. You lie! I hate magic, and I hate you for you are a creation of magic. I will not be human! I was born of a runner and her love for a man. My father fights through me. His light is the light of the world carried in my heart. You can not destroy that, and therefore you can not win." Drellin focused her thoughts back to her teacher. It was a lesson from her youth. Something nearly forgotten until now when she needed it most. Shendar had warned of the creature, the black wizard. His power only grew stronger if he could feed on his victim. She could not afford to let that happen. The pain was nearly overwhelming, but she continued to focus on her master. He had never loved her, but she had never expected that he should. Shendar had done one thing well, taught her the laws and treated her with honesty and fairness. "Shendar!" Drellin screamed it loudly, a last sad and desperate call to pierce the black.

"You should listen to me, animal! That is what you are, a mutant. You are no different then I am, and will never be part of their world." A terrible, rank smell emanated from its mouth as it spoke each word. "I can take that pain away, you must believe me. Shendar can not help you. Come to me!" The power of his persuasive voice was compelling to be sure, but not enough.

Drellin knew this was a battle of life and death. It did not matter if it were reality or magic in basis, only that the outcome would be real. Then when Drellin thought she could hold out no longer, the memory of her father's face seemed to overlap with that of the thing's presence. "Daughter, you are a creature of the love I shared with your mother. Remember the trial of adulthood. You chose long ago against magic. Now I tell you to choose again. The ugly thing grows with the magic and with your fear." Drellin refocused her emotions and thoughts to the image of the green emerald. The same one that Shendar had sent to her by way of the elf. It was gone now, but the remembrance of it had power too of a kind. That would be true, especially in this un-real realm. "No! Do not play their game. Remember only the trial of adulthood. Remember your choice then, and choose now." Drellin's, father's voice was strong. He felt so close she could smell his scent. Then he was gone.

"Yes!" Drellin remembered the trial. It was clear in her mind. She banished the image of the jewel to nothingness. That was the wrong path. Then she stared into the creatures face without fear. "Fandran, I wish to see you. Now! I have called you out by name, you know the law." She had known his name all along, but few dared to say it in their lifetime and live. Drellin had very little left to lose, so she used the name, like a weapon.

"You do see me." The image wavered and shifted in the unholy mist.

"No, you lie. I do not see you. I see what you wish me to believe is you. Now show me the real you and speak the truth. Again, I have called you by your true name, and you know the law." Drellin felt mentally stronger. If she was going to die in this magic dream, then she was going to cause as much suffering back upon this enemy as she could, first.

The thing before her changed slowly. Soon, a man stood before Drellin. He was very handsome in form, but something still seemed to lack. It was just another trick from a high powered magician. Drellin had more than her share of tricks. She was on to him. "Try again. Fandran!" The form of the man before her flinched visibly. "You do not like it when someone speaks your true name, do you? I stand for truth. Now let me see, without your magic lies."

The man writhed as if in pain. Then, the mist returned, and the fowl thing was lost to sight for several long moments. As its image faded in and out, it continued to speak. "Come with me Drellin." The black wizard beckoned. "I did not lie to you. I will take the pain away. You do not belong to them, you belong to us. We are the same. Please come! Bring me the ax." The last words drifted away with an unpleasant hissing sound.

Then it fell together like pieces of a vast puzzle. "No. You lie! You are the king of lies! The ax belongs to the Light, not the darkness." Drellin never saw his pure form. The image was suddenly gone. It had been Fandran, Drellin was sure. He had failed. That renewed her hope for the future.

Drellin opened her eyes to a cloudy overcast sky. She blinked hard a couple of times and finally made out the figures around her. There was Norban, only a few paces to her right side. She glanced to her left and found her heart elated, and filled with joy. Annon was sitting right there. He was close at hand, kicked back against a huge stone. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was measured. She almost wanted to laugh out loud, because he looked so disheveled. Drellin had no idea of the marry chase she had led both of her companions on, just to find her.

"How long have you been here?" Drellin whispered softly. Her throat was parched and too dry. "Where is Talma?"

Annon's eyes opened wide. He swiftly leaned in close to Drellin and gave her a kiss lightly on her brow. The open display of emotion surprised her, and she flushed visibly. The man could hardly bring himself to speak for a time, also somewhat embarrassed by his own actions. Annon was not, however, sorry in the least. He just stared at her as if she had actually risen from the dead. Drellin did not know what to say to break the silence, so she waited.

Talma walked into the clearing carrying a rather large rabbit from his own hunt. He had grown by leaps and bounds since that day at the settlement. His skills had also grown, for she was somewhat surprised that the boy had brought back a prize. Talma dropped it instantly when he saw her looking directly at him. He ran and kneeled beside her, a massive smile on his face. "Drellin, I didn't know where you had gone. We thought you might be dead. You are going to be alright, aren't you? You have to be!" His questions rolled out as fast as he could possibly speak. Annon continued to sit in silence. He simply looked at her, as if seeing her for the first time. Drellin was touched that both her companions were so genuinely thrilled by her presence. She had never known anyone to really miss her being around, her whole life. Drellin found that she too had a huge smile on her face, to match theirs.

"I am going to survive it seems." Drellin found her own voice to answer Talma. "Looks like you have been busy. That is great because I am famished. I see you have learned to hunt, can you cook too?" She chided just a little.

"Yep, sure can." He replied, bounding to his feet. Talma swiftly turned and headed toward the tiny fire he had made earlier. It still smoldered nicely and would be easily brought back to a pleasant, friendly blaze. He went on about the chore of cooking up his bounty, all the time keeping one eye trained back on his two companions.

Drellin noticed the ax was at her side. There was a huge relief in that knowledge. She had succeeded. The fact was she did not know how she had done it, only that it was true. "Thank you." Drellin looked into Annon's crystal blue eyes. "You saved my life, but more then that, you saved my honor."

"I don't know about your honor, but if you head out again without me, there will be more trouble to face then you can handle. Count on it!" The man tried to sound as tough as he could. "You must have had some extremely important reason to acquire that thing." Annon motioned toward the weapon. "We will rest here a while, then finish what you started. After that, we need to talk." He did not want to press her with his deep feelings so quickly. There was time now. That was the point. Annon had longed for her to simply wake up. That prayer had been answered. The rest would follow.

Drellin found she was tired. She was not sure exactly what Annon wanted to talk about, but it was a good thing to be here. It was good to be with him and the boy. For the first time in her life, Drellin felt safe. She also felt loved.

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Chapter Twenty Two-The Promise

They had stayed in their small camp by the river for that entire day and then into the night. Drellin had slept nearly the whole time. She tried to make up for the last few days, but that was impossible. Her body ached badly, and the knife wound would take a long time to heel. Annon had fixed her up nicely and even used the healing powders that she had kept in Norban's saddle on her. Norban had warmed up to Annon quite a bit, Drellin was amazed to see. That was an excellent sign. It only served to confirm how she felt about the fighter.

The next three days they traveled slowly and steadily back toward the great gate. Drellin longed to be in the north wood. She also wanted to rid herself of Balor's ax badly. Annon had tried to carry it for her, but she would not have him bear the burden. Instead, she had strapped it to Norban's saddle, and there is stayed. It was a good time in their lives. They did not speak much, but riding together was more than pleasant. It felt right. The best part is they did not seem to be followed by anyone. No guards or hunters at all. They had also not come across any signs of shadow riders, charn or bandits. In fact, they're, were no signs of any enemies at all.

Daybreak on the fourth day out from the Saltrana river clearing, Drellin woke before the others. The cold morning seemed to breathe a life of its' own. The sun had not even come up over the distant mountains as yet, but sleep was Drellin's no longer. She rose slowly and treaded quietly, through the encampment. Norban watched her leave but did not make any move to follow. She walked a short distance into the forest, alone. This hour of the morning gave her a calm feeling of being part of everything. It was the runner inside her that needed a space apart now and then to be at peace. Drellin was exhilarated to be part of their company, but it was slightly overwhelming after so long alone. The weather had warmed up dramatically, and spring was coming soon.

Drellin stopped on the path and held herself quiet, listening. She heard the happy sound of water. There was a stream near. Her side had healed some, but it still kept her weak. Drellin had been so close to death, that life was all the more sweet to her. Her body had healed better than a typical, purebloods. It was a gift, from her bloodline. It had been far too long since she had last bathed. It would be nice to rid her self of the dust, dirt and thick mud acquired in her travels. Not to mention clean away the dried blood from her side and re-dress her wound.

The runner walked on ahead toward the sound. She came to another small clearing. Drellin's hearing had been right on. The bubbling, swirling, stream, was right where she expected it to be. She did not hesitate. The young woman took off her leather tunic and laid it across some short bushes near the water's edge. The chill air tingled against her soft skin. Then Drellin sat down on the bank and removed her boots, slid off her riding pants and stood. Almost as an afterthought, by habit Drellin strapped on her short knife, tightly to her leg. The water was so very, clear here and inviting. It came from the north, runoff from her homeland and moved slowly southward through the trees until she could no longer see its path. Yes, it was cold, but being clean, really clean was an, inviting proposition.

Drellin did not hesitate but stepped right in. She began to wade to the middle where it became a bit deeper. The current was not too swift, but caressed her, happily washing away the long trail memories and filth of travel. The weariness that Drellin had carried mentally, since the day she had left Mayir, gently drifted away with the current to be lost in the distance. The stiffness in her side from the evil wound also seemed to pass away with it. Drellin found she nearly wanted to giggle out loud. She so loved the forest, and the memory of the city of Bracar was only a nightmare. Like all dark dreams, it was now losing its last hold on her to be replaced by the clean, green forest.

"Good morning!" Annon's voice broke her revelry. She turned back to the bank side and found he was just sitting there, watching her. Drellin felt a twinge of shyness to have him so close by, while she bathed. However, he made no move to join her, but to merely stand guard. Drellin had felt safe, but Annon was not of the same mind. He refused to let down his guard if he could help it. Drellin looked at him with a, measured stare. He was a large man, yet there was a kind of gentleness held within his stride, that she would be hard put to describe to anyone. That is except to her, own heart, which accepted him for all that he was. His eyes were large and almost un-ending in their depths. She could easily get lost within their fathomless pools of crystal blue color.

"Good morning," Drellin responded to his greeting with a bright smile. She could not help that she also blushed at the situation. Drellin made no attempt to leave the water. Instead, she continued her bath.

"You know, I have wanted to talk to you for some time now. You are hard to hold down in one place very long to do so. Drellin, you have a real knack for disappearing on me too." Annon had his best matter of fact look, plastered to his face. He wanted her to take him seriously.

"You can talk to me. I am not going anywhere. Just let me finish here. You leave, and I will come out, get dressed and go back to camp with you. Then we can talk there." Drellin tried to match his serious look but failed completely. The circumstances being what they were, he had the upper hand.

"No, I don't think so. That won't work for me, Drellin. Instead, you will stay right there while I talk." He kept his face stern. "There I know you won't run off on me again." Annon's felt unsteady but refused to waver in his quest. He did not want to give up the small advantage he had acquired.

"What is it you want?" It crossed her mind to get mad, but she did not. Drellin could see this was costing him emotionally. Something was way too heavy on his mind. She decided to hold her tongue. Drellin also decided that she was going to stay exactly where she was for the time being. That is since her clothes were entirely out of her reach, for the moment.

"I," Annon stuttered and held his breath for a few long beats. "I," He tried again but did not get it out. Then just as he was going to explode with the whole intensity of his question, "I want you to marry me. I want you to be my wife or mate, or whatever you call it." There. Annon had done it. The question was out there hanging in the air. What would she say? What could she say? Why had he been so foolish to ask? His mind was overcome by unspoken new questions and un-requested answers he gave himself. Answers like, "NO!" It occurred to Annon that fighting shadow riders was far easier than asking for her hand.

Drellin looked at him blankly. Then she finally croaked out a question of her own, once she found her voice. "You knew? You knew I was different?"

"Yes. I believe I knew since the first time we met. I just did not want to know then, so I ignored it. Now, I just don't care. Be my wife, Drellin." Well, at least she had not said no, right away. That was a good sign. He could allow himself to take in air, again. There was another long uncomfortable silence, so Annon dared to continue on his, own. "I have always preferred the forest anyway, you see. So we are a good match. You had just better say yes!" The tone of Annon's voice was playful but pleading for sure.

Drellin only starred at him. It was hard to take in the fact that not only did he know her bloodline was not pure human, he, wanted her anyway. Annon wanted her to be his wife. He was a prince. A real prince. Yeah, the fifth in line to a thrown he would never see, but still. In her wildest dreams, Drellin never dared to think any man would want to be part of her life. Now this handsome fighter before her, was asking Drellin to marry him?

Finally, Annon could wait no longer. He just could not stand the prolonged hush. "I think I will take that as a yes!" Then he jumped or rather, leaped into the water. He swam out the short distance to where she stood, starred into her eyes and then hugged her with both arms. He continued to hold her for a long time. Annon was angry with himself that he had waited so long to see the truth. Now he was taking no chance and wasting no time on pretense. Annon's heart beat loudly, very loudly in his own ears. His spirit was light, liter then he could ever remember in his whole life. He pulled away just far enough to look into her beautiful face. Then swiftly, he bent down and kissed her squarely on the lips. It was the kiss of true love like they only tell of in fairy tales long past.

"Annon, come quick!" Talma's voice rang from the distant clearing. It sounded more than urgent. The boy was in trouble. Something was wrong. "I'll return!" He found that he felt lightheaded as he climbed from the water's edge. It never failed, that trouble found them at the worst of times.

Drellin began to cry. She was so happy. In all her life, she had never been so happy. She moved to the stream's edge and tried, to quickly brush the water off her body. Then she proceeded to her clothes. Talma and Annon would need her too. That was sure.

Annon burst into the clearing of their camp. There he saw it. A terrible creature floated within a gray mist. It was hideous to look upon. The eyes were bulbous and had no whites to them at all. The mouth gaped open to reveal razor sharp teeth and slimy ooze dripped from the corners. It even had wings like a bat. Annon had traveled far in this land and never seen its like before.

Talma stood near Norban with Annon's sword held high in both hands. It was too heavy for the boy, but Talma was giving it his best effort. He was shaking hard too, Annon could see, but standing his ground none the less. Annon was proud that Talma had not run. Annon moved swiftly, the short distance to his blanket he had laid next to Drellin's on the ground. He looked down and realized that the ax was his only choice. It lay ready. The brave fighter bent down, and grasped it tightly in both hands, turned and faced the new ominous threat.

"I come to take Drellin." The words were more of a hiss then true common, speech. The intent was clear enough, however. There was a sound, constant. Like bones rattling in a jar. It came from it, yet it was not of it. The air felt unpleasantly thick, and it was getting worse.

A vicious hate welled up inside of Annon. He would have preferred his own sword, but the ax would have to do. The fighter just wanted to get in close and cleave, the monster in two. "I am Annon. You will not pass me. You will not hurt any of us." Annon felt that the odd power he had noticed the first time he held the ax, had returned tenfold. The weapon grew liter in his hold, and he noticed that the mists were clearing, revealing the thing before him. Perhaps the weapon had some kind of magical power to see beyond illusions. That is if this was an illusion?

The monster did not make any moves toward the man or the boy. It just stood there. Then Annon heard a scream. It was close by, and it was Drellin. He knew it! Before Annon, the thing faded, but as it went, it laughed at him. It was the kind of laugh that Annon would remember forever. Talma did not know what was happening, so he just held his own ground and tried to be ready. Annon, however, turned on his right heel and ran for all his worth. He went back to the clearing of the running stream. His heart sank. Something told him ahead of time what he would find, but he wouldn't believe it. He did not want to believe it.

Drellin lay out upon the hard ground. She was covered in blood from head to tow. It looked like a group of charn had tried to tear her apart with their sharp claws. It was the same death the people had received back at Talma's settlement. He dropped the ax next to her with a resounding thud. Annon went down on his knees beside Drellin. He lifted her head gently. Then, he leaned and kissed her face. Tears filled and stung his eyes, but did not fall. He would not let them. "My dear one, you cannot leave again! You can not die. Not now, please not now."

Drellin's eyes opened halfway, and she smiled up at the man. "Annon, take Balor's ax for me and give it to Shendar. Take the Thunder Whip for yourself. Use it! I have failed, but the Light must not." She coughed a racking, grating sound for several minutes. If it were not for her strong constitution, she would have already left the land of the living. Her love had allowed her to hang on when hope had drained away.

"It's okay. We will fix you up. We'll be together." Annon choked on his reply. Still, he would not let the hot tears that clouded his vision, fall. She deserved better. He would be strong, for her, if for no other reason.

"No my love, you cannot fix me. Do not let my death be in vain. Take the ax. Shendar was my teacher. He still lives in the high hills of the deep north wood. Protect the ax and protect the whip. They must not fall to the darkness." The strength in her voice began to fade completely. At the very last she whispered, "I love you. I'm sorry I never said that before now." Then she died there in his arms.

The sound of the stream was loud to the man. The air was too thin! The world had grown ice cold, in an instant. Annon found he could not speak for a time. Then softly he whispered, "I promise Drellin. I will do as you have asked. I will do more then you have asked. I love you, and I will serve the Light, for you. You will not have failed. The darkness of this world took you away, and it will pay for that mistake. It will pay dearly!" Annon leaned and kissed her one final time. It was a sweet, long kiss of good by. A single tear slid down his cheek unwilling to be held in check. Happiness had been his. It had been!

Talma had left the other clearing and found the path to where Annon and Drellin had gone. When he saw the scene before him, Talma was struck motionless in his tracks. He could do nothing. Hot tears ran down his own cheeks, freely. No sound, however, left his body. He did not want the fighter to know he cried. He wanted to be strong for both of them. Annon would need that of him. Talma just watched as the man, his friend sat there holding Drellin for the last time. Then Drellin was gone.

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Chapter Twenty Three-The North Wood

Several days later in the deep north wood, Annon found Shendar. He was in a place Annon learned was called the Maralan forest. It was the farthest north the fighter had ever been as yet. The weather was extreme here in this part of the land. Talma had gone with his companion, every step of the way riding Norban one pace behind Morgane. Balor's ax had been strapped tightly to Annon's saddle. The Thunder whip too was included in the fighter's belongings now. He had spoken little on the journey to the boy. Talma let his friend grieve silently as he did himself. Annon could not drive the picture of Drellin's kind face from his mind. It made his heart sick, an illness so deep Annon doubted he would ever recover from.

The old master now sat quietly watching the fighter across a heavy, wood table. The boy had brought them tea from a tiny pantry in Shendar's cluttered dwelling place. It was a cabin of sorts, built halfway into a rock outcropping for safety. The trees here showed the stress of heavy storms and the need for the extra precautions were well founded. "I will take the ax, and Drellin gave me the whip," Annon stated in a rather matter of fact tone.

"Annon, you don't know what you say. You don't know what you would be getting into. The darkness will destroy you as it did Drellin." Shendar sat with his head in his hands. He loved Drellin so very much, and the news of her demise went hard on him too. Funny thing was that Shendar had never dared to tell her of his feelings. He had thought of Drellin as his own daughter. Shendar simply was unable to share that with her for fear it would make Drellin weak. He could not allow that because it would endanger her. So she died without knowing.

"I find her death so impossible to believe. It will take some time to get used to the idea, I guess. It will be odd that she will not be among the runners that return here from time to time. They do not often come to my house, but never returning at all, is a sad concept indeed." Shendar rambled on very low, mostly to himself. His final unspoken thought was that he would never have the opportunity to right the wrongs of his own heart.

Annon lifted his eyes from the wood grain in the table he had been mentally tracing with his eyes. He starred at Shendar directly. "I don't know why she did all the things that came to pass, but I do know I will not let her death go unpunished. I will do all that I can to bring honor to her memory." Annon stood slowly. He placed his hand on his own sword. "Teach me, old man. Teach me as you did her." It too did not sound like a request, but more like a statement of what was to come.

"You are not a breed, human. This fight is not yours. You don't even come from this land. You come from across the sea. The powers of the Light reaches there as do those of the dark, but they are muted and distant. Here they are life and death. Annon, you would be playing a very, dangerous game." Shendar did not even look up from his sitting position as he responded to the man before him. He continued to stare down at the table. His chipped mug of tea was untouched at his elbow.

"This is not a game. Death is never a game. Drellin served the Light. Now I will serve the Light as well. Teach me, old man." This time it was a statement without a possibility of question. Annon made it very clear by his stance that further challenge was not an option. Annon had made up his mind, committed his heart and offered his soul.

"Okay then. I will respect Drellin and do as you ask. Remember you were warned." The old man lifted his eyes to meet Annon's directly this time. There were words unspoken between them that were best kept that way for now. They exchanged something unseen for the space of many heartbeats. Talma could sense that something wonderful and terrible had happened here in this room. What that was? Talma could not know sure. The old man pushed back his chair and stood. As Shendar drew himself up to his full height, he seemed to grow more powerful. His weakness of emotion tangibly diminished. Shendar was no feeble old man, but a teacher, and elder. "If this is what your heart leads you to do then I will honor Drellin's memory."

Shendar held out his right hand to Annon, palm up. The fighter had no clue what was going to happen but waited. "Flesh and blood, Annon. We are all flesh and blood. The color is different, the shade, the hue, but inside? Same. There has been a war going on since the first snow. Maybe it will never end. It has roots, but that is another lesson. For now, it is about right and wrong in the land. People are hurting and dying. Drellin was part of the answer. Serving the Light is the answer." Shendar's gray eyes clouded up with visions of past victories and defeats. "Listen to my words and become one with the Light." The teacher changed form ever so slightly. His face shifted to show a mirror of faces. It was like he had recorded all of history in his facial emotions. Shendar's robes rustled about him as if they were alive.

Talma moved back to the small pantry and stayed close to the wall, in an effort to be invisible. He was mesmerized, riveted to the moment, watching this new turn of events with a mixture of real hope and honest fear.

"Weapons of war and keepers of peace, do not turn from the shadow. The Light of the sun that burns in the heart embraces the truth, and lives in the fire of forever." Shendar held Annon's gaze. "Do you believe?"

The 5th prince from the Isle of Kings did not hesitate. "Yes. I believe. I will serve." Both men continued to be locked in an unseen exchange. It was a silence that allowed all present to fully understand the enormity of the word. "Yes". Giving everything to serve something greater, was a selfless act. It was the act of faith in tomorrow and the right of Light.

Finally, the old man let go. He released the fighter. Annon was still a bit unclear as to what was expected of serving, but regardless he had found worth. He had found value. Things going the right way, his father would be proud of him yet. Shendar sat down rather heavily, and his appearance returned to the simple old teacher from a handful of minutes before. Annon remained standing for a bit longer, the old man's words still echoing in his mind. He felt different, but could not quite say how or why? Annon was sure of the divergence none the less. Finally, he too sat down. Talma who had continued to watch dared to move from his hiding place. He grabbed the little kettle from the hearth fire and refreshed the old man's tea.

"Shendar, you will keep the boy here. He will serve you well. I want him to be safe, and this is the best place." Annon glanced at Talma to see if the boy would object. He did not. Talma had come to realize that as much as he would like to follow Annon, he would also be in the way. That is only until he could gain a few inches. He needed to be able to hold a sword just a bit tighter. Talma was smart and knew that Annon was still watching out for him.

"Yes, I will keep the boy. Drellin would like that too." Shendar actually smiled. "Now fighter, I will tell you a tale, and you will know your place in it, by the end of the telling.

Kilar Danfast was the greatest user of magic. He lived in the first days. That time we can no longer clearly remember. It has long since passed into myth and legend. If one would believe the stories, however, there are truths to be gained. It was a peaceful realm, where color was no more than fanciful- illusion. Black and white, were also merely opposing ends of the same rainbow. Prayer, magic, and something called science did not have such different definitions. They were spoken of in the same room without dread.

No one knows exactly what happened next, but there were changes in the land. These changes came with the birth of a creature called the Armilander. It was the first dragon. Like a top put out of balance, the world wobbled. It became unstable and thereby induced panic among the people. Winter came early and stayed too long. There was a huge famine that continued for years. It killed thousands.

Kilar Danfast tried to set things right. He used all that he knew to heal the land. The problem was that he did not fully comprehend the nature of power. The Armilander was not born at the wrong time. It was destined to mark a change that was meant to be. The creature was not good or evil, but he brought about its demise, anyway. Sadly that did not solve the problem but made it worse than ever. There were dark men, that had secretly envied Kilar's power. They claimed the beast's body and drained the blood from its veins. Then they drank it to gain supremacy, magical power. Well, it gave them what they sought in a fashion, but it changed them too. That part of the story is harder to follow. The long dark nights that consumed the world after were steeped in blood and death. The line between the Light and darkness had been drawn in that blood.

Kilar wanted to set right his mistake. So he used his last days to gather what power he still had, and made weapons. They were great weapons to fight against that darkness. He called forth the sons and daughters of the worthiest kings, queens and even peasants of the land. All had reason to fight. They were the last that still understood a time without fear. He made them swear an oath to protect the Light. Along with that, he made them swear to protect the Armilander's line. Kilar had found that the beast had given birth to three hatchlings before her death. He no longer wished to question the reason for her birth. He only wanted to repent for her death. Her innocent blood was on his hands.

Those armaments were given to the warriors that were soon to be called Paladins. That was the ancient word for Protector. In the common tongue, it meant guardian. They were to hold the darkness of fear from our world forever. Drellin was the daughter of one such Paladin. You Annon, now wield her father's whip. By accepting such a gift from her, you have stumbled into a promise made that can not be broken. I tried to free you from that future, but you are just too stubborn." Shendar stopped talking for a while. Annon did not break the stillness, as he wanted to know more. He knew the old man was not finished. Then, "The blessings were seven, made for three warriors at that time. There were only three to match the hatchlings they would protect. Legend says these gifts were split apart one from another. The ancient text is even now difficult to read and interpret.

The armaments all have power, unique and different. Some to protect, others to be used in judgment. All still aid those that carry them. Over time, the weapons themselves have grown their own histories. There is much to teach you. Balor's ax which you brought to this house was one of those creations. I will not take that from you. It too is yours. In return, I think you will find you have paid a great price. Far greater, than just the death of someone you cared about. The Light surrounds you, Annon. Now fight to keep it! To save our world from the darkness. The ugly shadow that covers all men's hearts that no nothing but fear and worship hate." Shendar finished. He went silent, and Annon was sure at least for now the story was at an end.

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Notes and Acknowledgements

This Book received the CAMP NANOWRIMO AWARD 2018

**#CampNaNoWinner2018!**

** **

Just a note to say thank you for your time. Hope you enjoyed the adventure.

I have more new titles already started. The best part, they range from a penguin in space, back down to Earth with a hard as nails woman detective.

Please read, review, like and follow my work. I love to hear from readers!

All rights reserved, copyright by A. Foster aka Annette Foster

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Surprise First Chapter of Book Two

**Paladin** by A. Foster aka Annette Foster

Chapter 1-Far Town

Glenfel stood near the entrance, just within the shadow of the doorway itself, to the tiny tavern. The room inside was filled with music and the sounds of many people speaking all at once. She could hear them, clearly. All of them, all at the same time. It was confusing. That made her uneasy. There was an extremely strong smell emanating from the doorway. It was a strange mixture of plain honest food, sweaty, dirt-covered townspeople, travelers, pipe smoke and slightly sour drink. It made her stomach turn, just a little. There were also other food smells. Some did not smell bad or turn her stomach but made it rumble instead.

Finally, soundlessly, Glenfel took a deep breath and pushed through the double doors.

It was dark and hard to see in many areas. Not like the night outside, but darker and more sinister. The lighting was terrible and the crowd was an ocean of movement. People sitting at tables, mingled together, talking loudly. Two wenches, walking back and forth from customers to the kitchen. There was one rather huge man, angry and yelling about a servant or wench being too slow. A tiny man with an overly large waste, setting near the fire was playing his instrument badly. He was a harpist, trying to entertain but plucking a tree cat might have sounded better. No one was really listening. Glenfel was wishing she did not have to listen. All the sounds were mingled together and then separated in her head. It was disorienting.

Glenfel felt a twinge of uneasiness. It left a bad taste in her mouth. This was not a safe place. She counted ten tables in all and perhaps twenty bodies in the room. It was good to take and keep count. Obviously. The large fireplace in the main area was open on all sides to keep the inner room warm as well to bring a little extra light to the interior. It crackled and popped vigorously. It did a good job, warming the main area and adding a faint golden glow to everything and everyone near it. The problem was that it also added a lot of extra, smoke and made the air that much thicker and suffocating.

Even with the dim light from the fire and the few candles upon the tables here and there, the feeling of the room was a sharp contrast to the deep darkness, of the street outside. There had been no moon and no stars, only the dark winter clouds that threatened snow. Yet the weather was a welcome threat as compared to this place.

Glenfel continued forward a few more feet, to just within the entrance of the little tavern. Her ears heard the undertone of questions nearly tangible within the foul air, but no one came forward. This was Salor Far Town. That was one of its many names anyway. No one asked questions of strangers here. It was an unspoken rule. A rule few travelers or townsfolk dared to break. On a rare occasion, someone did decide to try, there was always bloodshed. It never went as planned, at least to date.

Adjusting swiftly to the dimmer light, Glenfel saw an empty table off to one side. It would allow her a good view of the main doors as well as the passageway back to the kitchen. Covering all the entrances and exits in one chair. That was perfect. She could also keep a general eye upon the strange array of customers and guests of the roadhouse while she sat. There, Glenfel could wait for Shilon, better known as the Leech.

Shilon was a low-grade scavenger of everything from information to the leftover items among the dead. That is how he had acquired his name. Shilon had been caught stripping boots off of fallen shadow riders by the Teekmar, the local sheriff types, during the border skirmishes a few years back. They let him go as no one really had much pity for shadow riders, but the name stuck. Shilon should be able to find her here easily enough. Besides his message had been clear and specific concerning this place, "The Laughing Snake". The name suited the patrons' as far as Glenfel could tell. Most were sly, ugly looking hunter types and a few greedy, dirty merchants of questionable wares. However, anything was better than waiting outside with the icy mist coming on again. The longer she could avoid the cold, the better. Well thinking and focusing on that, gave her small comfort.

The time passed slowly, Glenfel could almost have counted the beats of her own heart. The sound was deafening in her ears, but it was just that, in her ears. Life had become so dreamlike, almost a nightmare, waiting for his arrival. Close enclosed places bothered her more then she had anticipated. "The cold outside may have been a better choice," Glenfel thought to herself.

After what felt like an hour, but was in reality only a few minutes, a very, heavy set, a middle-aged woman came waddling over. Her eyes were set too close together upon her overly large, somewhat dirty face. Her mouth was small, much too small compared to her other features. She leaned over, nearly on top of Glenfel's table and her hair feel forward in tangles. "I'm Clara, the owner's wife. What can I get for ya? Chamek?" Her smile was a yellow toothy sight, and the voice grated hard on Glenfel's ears. After no answer, Clara continued with a slight shake in her tone that seemed completely out of place for a woman of her size. "The Chamek's the best around here. It's the best drinking wine we' ave."

With no more than the slightest nod from Glenfel, Clara had her answer and left to retrieve the wine. Moments later the old wench returned. She placed a dark, plain colored wine bottle and a clean heavy mug on the wood table in front of the younger woman. In one surprisingly fluid movement, she finished, spun on her back heel and moved on to her next task.

Once more left to her self, Glenfel slowly sensed something was amiss. There were simply far too many people in the room. However, the feeling was more than surface anxiety. Glancing precariously about, she spotted what set her to the uneasy side. In the far corner, past the huge fireplace, but still within view, were three hunters. Not just any kind of hunters, these were mutant hunters. The bounty for high-end types like herself was rather large. The slave trade was in full swing in all the southern kingdoms.

They were killers of half-humans, more beasts themselves then the poor creatures they murdered or sold into slavery. "Why?" Glenfel thought to herself. Why had she not seen them before now? Alas, even here is Salor these men were dangerous. Glenfel would have to make sure she kept an eye on them specifically. She also could not help but mumble an angry curse in Shilon's name. Why he had chosen to meet in the city, even here in Salor, was beyond Glenfel. It was after all extremely dangerous in the best of times.

"Yes!" She berated herself. Glenfel was sure the bounty hunters knew what she was even with her hood covering most of her features. As yet they had made no outward move. Perhaps they thought to wait until the tavern cleared a bit first. That was a wise plan in general for the Teekmar, if they were about, did not like fights in Salor. They would not be on her side at all, but they would not allow too much of a ruckus to take place either. It would be bad for the town. Many races came here to trade goods and services. There was no place quite like Salor anywhere else in the northern reaches. It had a reputation, and the townsfolk meant to keep things just as they were, it was best for everyone.

Glenfel's thoughts once again turned to Shilon, the Leech. "Curse him, where was he? Why did he want to meet here and not on the outskirts of town as they had previously arranged?" Her hand had unconsciously moved to her dagger and released the loop that held it fast. The feel of its cold, hard metal was somewhat reassuring. It cast a shadow of reality to her unreal, nightmare-like situation.

A great sigh escaped her unbidden. Glenfel was tired. She found herself wishing not for the last time to be back within the Maralan Forest where she was welcome and at home. A sudden movement at the main entrance to the tavern drew her gaze. It brought her attention back to the reality of her present situation. Tight closed in places made her weak and vulnerable. Glenfel centered her thoughts on leaving.

A young human had entered through the main doors. He did not even hesitate slightly. Brazenly, in fact, he half walked, half ran straight to Glenfel's table and heavily sat down. This youths astounding arrogance puzzled her somewhat. He could not likely have been more than eighteen to twenty seasons at most. Five hands high or less, he was and had looks has plain as stone. The clothes on his back were filthy and warn. They marked him as no more than a simple peasant. His breath came in short gasps and he smelled of sweat even with the cold outside. He must have run here, from some great distance away.

Glenfel was aware, the hunters openly watched now, both the young stranger and herself. The facade of just being patrons of the same tavern was gone completely. They like Glenfel were also puzzled by this newcomer and his offensive, pretentiousness. However, no one else in the tavern noticed or even seemed to care. That was a blessing really. Glenfel could handle the three men. Well, if she could not, she would not live to know it. Yet at the moment, she was fairly sure of the outcome. A mob, however, was perhaps a different matter altogether. It was a good thing that the other tavern customers were lost in their own affairs.

The tallest of the hunters met her gaze directly and sized her up with his eyes, but still made no move to rise. There was an unspoken challenge held in check only by the general circumstance of the place itself.

Perhaps the hunters did not want a direct confrontation either? Glenfel would like to think that, but she would not depend on it. Age, experience and quick, decisive action had saved her often enough. Never let your guard down was the way she lived her life. It was the safest.

Glenfel turned her attention back to the newcomer. Without the slightest trace of fear, the boy leaned over; picked up the mug Glenfel had been drinking from and drank deeply. The dark wine ran down his chin and splattered slightly on the table. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he spoke very softly, whispered words only Glenfel could hear, "Shilon is dead. He died several hours ago. He was murdered, I am sure. It was made to look like a mutant did it. There is a large group of men forming to go on a hunt. You are no longer safe here even in Salor. I believe it was set up on purpose. No one really liked Shilon, and most would never miss him. However, the people here only look for a reason to release their hatred. The thirst for blood toward the mutants is still very great. A man named Ponar, head of the Teekmar itself is leading them. He has a history with your kind and would take any opportunity to deal out a little personal justice. They will come here soon. You must leave, and leave now!"

"Do you know if the main gates to the city have been blocked as yet?" Glenfel's voice was low and measured in response. She did not panic easy but knew it would not be a simple task to get out. Glenfel had also moved closer to peer into his eyes. He was telling the truth, of that fact she was sure.

"Yes, they have. But there is a way. I shall go with you!" The young man was no longer a child in her eyes. He stood. Before Glenfel could voice her objections to his company, he turned and started for the door. Moving rapidly behind him, they found themselves outside, together walking easily toward the stables without incident. To Glenfel's surprise, no one had moved to stop them. Glenfel breathed a sigh that at least they were no longer within the walls of the Laughing Snake. The icy winter mist had claimed the streets with a dark, gray blanket filled with empty ghostly shapes. She found herself thankful now for its cold hand and bleak, unfriendly presence. It would obscure their passing to the unwary eye.

The hunters within the tavern stopped puzzling over the reason any human would be with a mutant. They exchanged a few harsh words amongst themselves and quickly recovered their weapons. All the movement between Glenfel, the kid and the hunters themselves had finally caught the attention of the other patrons. None, however, would get in the Boar Hunters' path. A hushed silence fell as the three men were watched with interest as they left. Several moments later, the low whispers and general talk resumed.

Clara smiled slightly. She was glad to see them go. The mutant was one thing, but the hunters were somehow more, rank in her mind than ten half-breeds. Not pausing to give it much more than a single thought she loaded her tray and returned to serving those still left in the place. Finally clearing the table where the mutant had sat she noted there were two extra copper coins next to the empty mug. Clara stopped for a moment, glanced toward the kitchen and then slipped them into the pocket of her skirt. In a way, it did not amaze her at all that the young woman had been kind enough to leave a tip. Clara had seen all types come and go through the old tavern. The young woman may have been different, but the old wench could tell she had more class than most. Clara could not say the same about the hunters after cleaning up the mess they left behind. Quickly she moved on about her business. It really wasn't her place to judge, after all, just to do her job. So she got back to it.

Approaching from the main street toward the Laughing Snake tavern, was a large mob of people. Their voices carried loudly and echoed slightly within the mist. It was a trick of the night perhaps, but the effect intensified the tangible hatred that permeated the air. Turning, Tram the tallest and most adept of the three hunters', detected the mutant and the human retreating behind the far buildings. The mob had missed them completely. The mob had, but he had not and would not. A sick grin danced across his scarred features. An idea struck him. He jumped quickly into the main way, much to the surprise of the other two hunters, Marlo and Chalt. Suddenly he yelled loudly, "The mutant escaped! The evil thing attacked me. It tried to rob and murder me. My friends tried to catch it, but it escaped I tell you!"

One of the men in the front of the mob mounted on a large brown horse yelled back, "Where has the filth crawled off to?" His shirt had the golden Teekmar emblem emblazoned on the sleeve. There was venomous hate in his eyes. It did not take much of an adept to recognize the sneer on his face, to know what the man had planned for the creature.

"I saw it myself. The thing is heading toward the old slave block. It probably thinks it can get around you!" Tram yelled loudly and added just enough fear and loathing in his voice to fuel the mob forward. There were many loud replies and curses in general as they all turned and moved quickly back the way they had come. The momentum of their abhorrence and disgust was near a frenzied level. If they did catch an animal tonight, any animal, Tram found he pitied the outcome for it, just a little perhaps.

"Why did you do that?" Chalt's voice was accusing.

"Marlo knows why. You are a fool. Chalt you are far too young. You have not learned yet. There is so much you need to know so pay close attention. If we capture and collar that thing, we can take it to the City of Litherine or even Bracar for the auction block. It is a hunter or tracker by the look of it. That one will not be an easy catch but if it is as skilled as I believe, it'll bring a kings price. Come, we must not lose them!" Tram and the others started off at a half run in the direction he had watched his prey take a few moments earlier. Tram loved the hunt and could feel his heart pound a little faster in anticipation.

Glenfel and her new companion had made it as far as the stables with no problems. There was an old woman standing in the front of the aged building holding their horses' reins and waiting for them. To Glenfel's astonishment, she seemed to be very at ease.

"This is Kell. She is my mother." Lar spoke very low. His tone was whispered.

Kell smiled. She had helped raise Lar with Shilon. They were not truly related either, but that did not matter. Kell did not question the boy, nor saw any reason too. When Lar brought the mutant forward, Kell only glanced up into her face and gave a half smile. She said nothing. Kell could tell however by the boy's desperate look that this was a dark night. "Be careful, I will leave the door open for your return." The old woman croaked low and then went back into the big barn. They both mounted in silence and trotted off together down the street.

The north gate was clear. There was no sign of the townspeople. The single guard was standing casually in front. He looked tired and a bit angry. The cold night and long hours had weighed heavily upon him. Glenfel pulled her cloak down over her face. Lar rode straight up to the gate and raised his voice, "Gilon, open the gate." He commanded. "I have to take a message to Litherine before dawn."

"You know I can't. No one is to leave the city tonight. You better watch yourself too. They are all out looking for some mutant. Sakel came by earlier and told me that I am stuck here until dawn. I have to pull double duty because of some freak of nature. No one can be spared from their little hunting party. Hey! Who's that with you anyway?" Suspicion raised his tone a notch higher in response.

"It's a friend. In fact, it is a special friend." His reply was playful. "You know the kind of friend you said we should both get to know soon. A girl, you stupid fool!" Lar's tone held a chiding note.

Lar rode his horse closer as he spoke, and moved his hand to the blade he had hidden in his tunic. There had been no time to plan. There had only been time to do what was necessary. The guard had droned on until it was just too late. Suddenly Lar leaped upon the man and drove his sharp dagger deep into his chest. Removing it, Lar then wiped the blood upon the older man's breast tunic. The sorrowful look on Lar's face was clear to anyone that this had been his friend. He turned and moved swiftly now. He half ran to the guardhouse and pulled the levers that released the counterbalance. Lar then rushed out to the gate itself. He lifted the great bar out of the brackets. "Hurry up!" Lar called back to Glenfel. Her mount responded to the slightest command. She guided him through the entryway to freedom. She was clear of Salor. Lar let the bar drop, gave one last look at his dead friend on the ground and mounted his own horse once again. He then kicked its flanks hard. He caught up to Glenfel and they rode on together briskly.

Lar and Glenfel both knew they had to gain time and space between them and those who would soon follow. It had been an ugly business at the gate and Lar's stomach ached. Killing someone especially someone he cared about, had not been his intent. He only wanted to help Glenfel escape. Lar tried not to allow himself to dwell on anything but the next moment. To do anything else would make him freeze in place and want to die. Taking a life, saving a life, owing a life? his thoughts raced as they moved together down the road.

Tram, as he expected, found the North Gate open and the guard slain. The mutant would spare no one to save its, own life he knew. "We are going to have to split up here. Marlo, take Chalt and go northeast, inland toward the hills. I'll go north along the coast. I'll meet you back in the city of Bracar ten days from now." with that, Tram turned and began his heavy ride, without any chance for the other two to object. The dark sky overhead was still black as pitch. The smell of water was thick; it would rain or even snow shortly. Tram focused hard on the trail ahead. Time was not on his side, but he would win he told himself. This thing would be worth a lot of money. It would all be his because he was the best, he assured himself out loud. No one was listening of course, but he liked the sound of it in his own ears.

After almost two hours of riding, they slowed to stop and rest. The horses were tired and sluggish to respond. "I can not go with you any further." Lar stopped altogether and looked directly at Glenfel. His teeth chattered together from time to time as he spoke. Even in the near complete darkness of the wood, she could see his young face clearly. It had changed much since they had left the Laughing Snake. He had grown old too fast. That was often the case when death was involved.

"Why did you help me? I do not even know you?" Glenfel began. "I want to thank you. I am sure however that you did not set out on this adventure for my sake." She tried to sound reassuring as best she could. His face was so full of sadness. Killing someone, especially for the first time, was a difficult life experience, to say the least. Glenfel silently prayed that he would not have to make it a habit. The pressures of these lands swallowed up the weak and made them stronger or made them dead.

"You are right. I do not care that you are mutant or half- breed. It was never about you personally. You see my father was Shilon. Yeah, the man everyone called the Leech. He was not my real father you understand, but he cared for me for the last eight years of my life. He saved me. I had been abandoned in the ruins west of here. It was his wish you would be free. He said you helped him once and I return that to you." Lar did not wait for her to reply. He turned his horse and was gone. Lar was headed back toward Salor. She was left there in the darkness.

Glenfel sat quietly on her horse and watched him go. The mist soon swallowed him up into the night like a great beast consuming its prey. Continuing on from here would be hard in the dark because the country rapidly became rougher and the hills steeper. Glenfel could lead the horse but thought rest a better course for the moment. Glenfel dismounted and led her horse forward into the trees and then into a small clearing. She sat down on a large rock. Without a fire, or the will or wish to build one, Glenfel was all, alone once again.

Hope you enjoyed the sneak peek. Obviously, it is still in progress and could change. The fun part is the window it gives to the next adventure. Don't worry friends, Annon will be back. He is, after all, a hero!

Thank you again for supporting a True American DREAMER!

God Bless.

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More Books by A. Foster aka Annette Foster

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