 
## SOLDIERS OF TYRANNY

_____________________________________

### AIELUND SAGA : Book 5

### STEPHEN L. NOWLAND

### Smashwords edition

Copyright 2014-2019 Stephen Louis Nowland

### 2019 Final Edition

Map Illustration by Cornelia Yoder

http://www.corneliayoder.com

The Author asserts the moral right to be

identified as the author of this work.

Table of Contents

World Map

Local Map

Prelude

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Epilogue

About the Author

Prelude

Though the air was heavy with the stench of the nearby swamps, now and then, when the wind changed direction, Rory Ballard could smell the sweet, grassy fields of home. It was little comfort for the young soldier, for his booted feet were mired in constant muck, and his belly never quite full. The towering trees of the forest to the north met with the swampy waters of the Fens to the south, with Rory and nearly a hundred other men camped right in between, awaiting the order to march.

They had come from all walks of life, save for those at the top, of course. War was fought by those who couldn't afford to buy their way out of it. Sons of bakers, smiths, carpenters and farmers made up the ranks the veterans here, those who had been fighting this war for over two years now. With their numbers diminishing every week, fresh reinforcements were essential to keep the war going, and Rory's company had arrived with more common folk to bolster the ranks, including three sons of an innkeeper from a village called Bracksford.

"Stop daydreaming," came a sudden remark, accompanied by a smack on the side of his head. Rory looked around with a start, catching the grinning face of his twin brother Tyler. Though not identical twins, they were very similar in appearance. Both were seventeen years of age, wiry and short, with dark brown eyes and short, brown hair.

"I'm telling you, I can smell Bracksford on the wind," Rory protested as Tyler kept moving through the ranks of soldiers, each of them clad in a mixture of chain and leather armor.

"Sure you can, just like how I can smell all the gold we're getting paid to be here," Tyler called back, drawing a derisive laugh from the closest men. "Come on, the captain wants to see us." Rory immediately stood and hurried to catch up, while spotting the towering figure of his other brother heading their way.

Unlike the twins, Faolan Ballard was head and shoulders above the rest of the men. At almost twenty years of age, he stood six and a half feet tall, with a barrel chest and round features. He closely resembled their father, Tom Ballard, both in appearance and temperament. He was always serious and spoke infrequently, preferring to let others carry the conversation. As such, he was a prime target for Rory and Tyler's more carefree attitude to life.

"Did it just get dark, or did a tree grow right next to me just now?" Rory quipped as Faolan fell into step beside them.

"Look out, a bear! Oh wait, it's just Lan," Tyler responded, adding to the mockery.

"You know, you'd look just like dad if you put on a few dozen pounds," Rory added, unable to keep the smile off his face. Faolan, however, was not impressed.

"Would you two shut your traps?" he rumbled. "Dad would have you two scrubbing the floors of the inn if he heard you saying that. Besides, this ain't the time or place for it." Rory's smile faded when he looked around and noticed a few weary veterans glaring back at him. Most of the soldiers were unshaven and unwashed, going through the motions of cleaning their weapons and armor with no enthusiasm. But more than that, their eyes lacked the spark of life one would normally see, as if these men had witnessed things too horrible to face, and their souls had retreated deep within to hide from the memories.

"The poor bastards have been on the front lines for years," Faolan confided in a low voice. "They've probably seen new blood like us join their ranks over and over, only to fall in their first or second fight. Be a bit more mindful before you speak, or you'll look like a damned fool."

"I still don't know why the captain had us join up with this lot," Tyler responded in equally hushed tones. "Guarding the border down in the desert has its downsides, but it's better than being stuck in this mud all the time."

"We're here because Lord Aiden told us to come here," Faolan replied firmly, referring to the commander who managed the defense of this part of the country.

"You know he's only a year older than you, right?" Rory pointed out.

"Doesn't matter. If the king gave a title to a local lad like Aiden, he must have done something right. So, if he sent the company here, we must be needed. If you ask me, we're going to make a big push on Westgate Keep."

"Wait, isn't that an Aielish fort?" Tyler asked curiously.

"It was until about a month ago," Rory explained. "One of these blokes told me all about it. They've been trying to take it back ever since, but now they lack the manpower to get it done."

"And that's why we're here," Tyler grumbled with a shake of his head. "I really miss home right now."

"Me too," Rory added wistfully. "The smell of the kitchens when the fresh bread is coming out, the sound of bubbling stew, and the patter of rain on the roof as I'm going to sleep."

"Bracksford is only three days east of here, mate," Faolan pointed out as they spotted the captain and other officers, speaking together under a pavilion just ahead. "If we don't take back the keep, we might not have a home to go back to." It was a sobering thought that silenced conversation, and allowed them to listen in on the officers.

Their commander was Captain Reece, a grizzled old campaigner from the south, with dark, weathered skin and a long scar running down his face. He was one of the sharpest people Rory had met, at least when it came to staying alive in the middle of a war. Reece was a survivor.

He stood before a small table that had been set up beneath a pavilion to provide shelter from the unpredictable weather they'd experienced of late. Lord Carbrey Richardson, a tall man with refined features and neatly combed brown hair, sat opposite Reece, sipping broth and eating jam-covered scones in the middle of a war zone.

Rory figured he would be more at home with other members of the gentry, but for Carbrey's heavy mace leaning against the table as a reminder that he knew how to fight. Regardless of appearances, he was in command of five other companies gathered next to the swamps, and was responsible for holding the western flank of the country while the war raged on to their north and south.

The fact that Westgate Keep had fallen under his watch wasn't said aloud, but it was certainly his primary motivation to retake the old fort, a point which Reece had made abundantly clear to his soldiers. The old captain leaned over the table with both fists planted upon it, an intimidating posture that gave Rory the impression things weren't going so well.

"I'm telling you, the keep is too well protected from the eastern flank," the captain patiently explained to Lord Carbrey in his gravelly voice. "They've repaired the walls after your last attempt, and you've only one working catapult. We should wait for reinforcements and resupply before hitting them again."

"That could take weeks," Carbrey replied in his urbane manner as he set down his cup of broth. "The longer we wait, the harder they will be to dislodge. Better to kick them out now before they settle in."

"Westgate is the only way through this region," Reece reminded him, "they don't have anywhere to go except through us, and they don't have the stomach for it yet. We have time, my lord. Give me eight catapults and a solid battering ram, and we can take it back in three days, regardless of how rested they are."

"Only eight catapults?" Carbrey retorted with a raised brow. "While we're wishing for things that don't exist, how about I conjure two thousand men to aid our fight, or a table of assorted cakes? No, we must make do with the supplies we have. We still have plenty of arrows, a dozen siege ladders, and five hundred healthy men to climb them, so we shall do this the old-fashioned way and rush the walls."

"That would be a slaughter," Reece growled, barely keeping his contempt in check, as Rory exchanged a worried glance with Tyler. "A better option would be to starve them out by circling the keep and shutting down their supply lines, while we wait for reinforcements."

"We're too close to the border," Carbrey said, dismissing the idea with hardly a thought. "They could easily break out lines by sending in reinforcements from Lanfall. If we strike fast, right away, we can take back the fort before that happens. Lord Aiden was kind enough to loan me two companies, including yours, Captain, and I don't intend to have good men sitting idle while there is a war to be won. Prepare your troops, we attack within the hour."

Reece stared in silence for a long moment, before slowly standing upright and saluting Lord Carbrey. He then turned about and briskly marched off, in the direction of Rory and his brothers. Reece noticed the three men watching from nearby and gestured for them to follow.

"I trust you overheard that?" he prompted as he stormed through the camp.

"Rushing the walls doesn't sound like the best option," Rory suggested nervously as they followed in the captain's wake.

"It isn't," Reece replied. "I told him the best option, but the stuck-up bastard can't stand the thought of the enemy commander sleeping in his cushy chambers for one more night." From behind them, the sound of a horn pierced the air, a signal for the army to prepare for battle. Around them, the combination of fresh youngsters and weary veterans grabbed their weapons and formed into lines, under the direction of their respective commanders.

"Alright you mean, ugly bastards," Reece bellowed to his company as they arrived back at their camp. "Fall in, and prepare for a nasty fight. Sergeant, you and some hefty lads take up the siege ladder and make ready to charge. Archers, you'll be providing cover for them as they approach the castle. Yes, we're rushing the walls, so grab your shields and have your daggers ready for close-quarters combat."

Reece went on shouting orders to prepare the men for what was to come, with Rory and Tyler falling into line with their shields held ready, while Faolan was ordered to take part of the heavy ladder they'd be using the crest the walls – provided they even made it that far.

Once they were set, the entire contingent of five companies marched west until Westgate Keep was clearly in sight, looming over the muddy battlefield where so many had fallen.

"You know," Tyler confided, "I'm starting to have second thoughts about this soldiering thing."

"I always wanted to be a baker," Rory responded lightly, despite the growing sense of unease within his chest. His heart was pounding and his palms were sweating within his leather gloves, normal enough at the start of any battle, but this time felt different.

"This might be it, you know," Tyler said plainly as a distant roar came from the defenders of the castle, lined along the walls with their weapons at the ready.

"Trust each other, watch each other's backs, and we'll get through this," Reece said, speaking loudly enough to be heard by his entire company. "Do it for Aielund, and the king."

"Bugger that," Faolan rumbled from nearby as he, along with nine other men tightly held the scaling ladder. "Do it for Bracksford. Do it for dad and Aislin. Do it for home."

"Home," Rory murmured to himself, thinking of the inn, his father and his little sister, all waiting for them to return one day when this useless bloody war was finally over. The order came down the ranks to stand ready, but before the command to charge was issued, the wind changed and again, Rory could smell the sweet fields of Bracksford

"I can smell home," Tyler remarked wistfully, catching Rory by surprise.

"So can I," Faolan added, a rare smile on his florid features. The three brothers exchanged a reassuring glance, knowing that whatever happened, they were together. The horn sounded, echoing across the battlefield and a roar went up from the assembled men, with Rory, Tyler and Faolan adding their voices to the noise as they charged for the wall under the banner of the gold dragon.

Prologue

Ice crunched under his feet as Aiden Wainwright, Baron of Highmarch, headed through the courtyard of the fort, inspecting the recently completed repairs before the weather took a turn for the worse. The cold mountain air swirled around him, stirring up a small cloud of powder snow in his wake. He walked through the crowded yard like a ghost, unseen by the workmen as they finished up their final tasks.

Aiden had impressed upon them the urgency of the work, and pushed a relentless schedule to bring the ancient fort back from the brink of obsolescence. Despite doubling the thickness of the stone walls from the original design, Aiden still felt it wasn't enough. Heavy buttresses and immense catapults lined the walls, but he couldn't shake the gnawing feeling that it was all for nothing. Once before, he had witnessed the fort almost completely reduced to rubble by a small army of golems, magical constructs of immense power that smashed through the fort like it was made of parchment.

The people scurrying about their duties in the fort were as nothing to the young lord. As he approached the towering southern gate, the noise of their existence dissipated into the background, fading away until Aiden could hear only the wind and his solitary footfalls upon the frozen earth. From beyond the gate, however, came a new sound — a dull thumping noise that sent a shiver down Aiden's spine, which had nothing to do with the chilly conditions.

The noise grew louder with each repetition and Aiden's legs felt leaden as the strength vanished from his body. He slowly backed away from the gate, trying to run but unable to move any faster. He tried to call out a warning, but his throat closed up in terror. Looking around frantically, he saw with growing despair that the courtyard, teeming with activity moments before, was now completely devoid of life, as if it had never been inhabited.

A thunderous boom echoed across the empty fort as the gate shuddered from a tremendous impact. The gate shuddered and split down the middle, revealing a hulking shape which smashed the remains of the gate open. The entire fort was on fire as an immense silhouette stomped through the debris, a huge sword in one hand and eyes glowing with eerie red light.

Aiden reached for his sword, but when he drew it from its scabbard, he found he was holding the bones of a small, dead dragon. The ominous silhouette stopped its advance and raised its empty hand towards him, and from its palm a brilliant light grew with intensity, accompanied by the sound of a boiling kettle and Aiden's scream.

* * *

He awoke with a start, throwing the covers away as he sat up in bed, struggling for breath. Sunlight streamed in through the small window, forcing him to shield his eyes as he tried to remember where he was. The whistle of a boiling kettle could be heard from nearby in an adjoining room, rattling his frayed nerves until the sound faded.

Glancing around, Aiden recognised the familiar sights of his chambers at Highmarch, and gradually relaxed. The cold grey stone of the room's walls were contrasted by a number of bright, colourful paintings depicting Aielund in springtime, a legacy of the former lord's wife, who never liked the long winters the fort endured. Now, Aiden used them as an anchor against the nightmares that visited him on a nightly basis.

He mopped his brow with a sheet and leaned against the pillows. Ever since their narrow victory against the Ironlord and its metal army, Aiden had refought the battle, or simply been rendered helpless in his dreams and left at the mercy of his towering metal foe.

At the culmination of the battle, the true nature of the creature had been revealed as an ancestor of the king, a withered old man who had simply been wearing an armoured suit of otherworldly origin. But this fact did nothing to alleviate Aiden's fears, for he never saw the armour destroyed.

It had simply disappeared one night, and any attempt to discover the fate of the cursed armour met with silence, or bureaucratic obfuscation. The simple knowledge of its continued existence, still intact, instilled within Aiden a deep sense of foreboding he could not shake.

Presently, the door opened and a small, balding man of middle years stepped through, carrying a pewter tray covered with an assortment of hot breakfast foods.

"Good morning m'lord," he said in greeting as he carefully deposited the tray on a small table beside the bed. The comforting aromas helped Aiden relax, reminding him of oddly enough, of home.

"Morning, Jeffery," Aiden replied, sitting up in bed and pretending he'd had a good night's sleep. Jeffery was a fine castellan, but he also had a tendency to dote on his lord when it was obvious Aiden had endured a rough night. "What time is it?"

"Several hours after dawn, I'm afraid," Jeffery responded with a slight hint of disapproval in his voice. "I would have woken you sooner, but I overheard you talking in your sleep a few hours earlier, and surmised you might need a little extra rest before your meeting this morning."

"For what little good it did me," Aiden muttered, wishing he could keep his mouth shut while he slept. "Has there been any word from Fairloch?"

"No m'lord, there has been no answer to your repeated requests at this time," came the usual reply. Months of communications sent to the University of the Arcane in Fairloch had amounted to nothing, leaving Aiden with the distinct feeling he had been shut out. "I suggest you eat your breakfast before it gets cold. I'll tell your guests to be patient a while longer."

"They're here already?" Aiden asked in surprise.

"They arrived an hour ago. Sir Leonard has been hearing their grievances in your stead, although I suspect he would rather be using his time more productively, such as standing watch out on the wall, or combing his hair for a few hours."

"I'll be sure to avoid mentioning your colourful view of the situation," Aiden said, hiding his amusement at Jeffrey's dry sense of humour. "Inform them I'll be out there as soon as I've finished my breakfast." The castellan bowed and took his leave, allowing Aiden to drop his veneer of nobility once more. His smile vanished as his head fell into his hands, and he wondered if he would ever be free of his memories of that terrible fight.

When he was done eating, the valet arrived to help him dress in the finery he was expected to wear. Aiden pulled on the black glove he wore on his maimed right hand to conceal his missing finger, and tried to ignore the hollow eyes staring back at him from the mirror. Even though his reflection now looked the part, it felt like a thin veneer of civility draped over a man whose soul had been tarnished by the brutality of war.

Chapter One

The comfortable warmth of the fort's small library belied the tension in the air as Aiden idly contemplated the two men sitting opposite. Both were past middle age, grey of hair and sporting beards that would make their fathers proud.

Each had come to Aiden, Baron of Highmarch to voice their grievances and seek his supposed wisdom in resolving their problem. As part of his duties, it was not uncommon for Aiden to settle disputes between individuals throughout the region — tedious though it was. Neither man would acknowledge the other's legitimacy, which again, was not uncommon.

Even with two years of experience under his belt, Aiden was still learning the intricacies of governance. Two years since the battle that had demolished half of the fort... he could scarcely believe it. Time had passed quickly, as is usually the case when one's life is busy.

It had taken nearly a year to repair the damage and restore Highmarch to some semblance of normality. Although difficult and costly, it had been well worth the effort to repair all of the aged walls and fortifications at the same time. Difficulties with supplies and money to pay for such an extensive rebuild had caused many delays, and more than a few harsh words between Aiden and his suppliers.

When he hadn't been overseeing the rebuild, Aiden was kept busy learning how to manage the fort and its surrounding lands. Usually a keen study, the young baron's difficulty sleeping had slowed his progress, and caused more than a little frustration from the elderly Sir Leonard Gustav, a long-serving knight of the realm who was charged with educating Aiden before finally retiring. Aiden had been tutored in how to talk, move and even think while in the presence of Aielund's elite.

It was all part of an effort to increase his standing in the eyes of the nobility, for the king had shown reservations about a commoner marrying his beloved daughter. Princess Criosa Roebec had been destined to marry a foreign prince, a common practice amongst royalty, but that arrangement had all fallen through when that very prince — Osric Davignon of Tulsone — had become the new King of Tulsone and taken up arms against them.

Aiden had overheard King Seamus furiously declare on more than one occasion, that Osric would marry his daughter over his cold dead body. But that fact alone hadn't guaranteed Aiden's betrothal to Criosa.

Combined with the arduous task of rebuilding the ancient fort, the young baron's schedule was so full he rarely had a chance to visit his paramour in the capital. In two years, he had seen Criosa on six occasions, and then only for a day or two at a time. Communication between them was sporadic at best, and she had confided her suspicions that Aiden's distracting workload was of her father's design. Still, their desire for each other had not diminished over time, in spite of continuing hardships on the country.

"Lord Aiden, have I not made myself perfectly clear?" Mister Turner inquired with an arched eyebrow. Aiden snapped his attention back to the two men before him, noticing that they looked at him in anticipation. He felt a flash of guilt for drifting away in the middle of the meeting, but quickly dismissed it. He had already heard their arguments before, which they were more than happy to repeat at a moment's notice.

"You've been very clear, Mister Turner," Aiden replied politely, not an easy accomplishment when dealing with the consistently unpleasant man. "But Mister Banks has been a valuable contributor to the war effort, providing much needed grain for our soldiers, and I won't interfere with the flow of supplies to the fort. I would also add that I have seen enough of the both of you to last a lifetime, so I consider this matter closed."

Banks' smile was tempered by this last statement, but Aiden no longer cared. The trivialities of this matter wore upon him greatly, and he felt his anger rising unbidden. Turner abruptly stood and straightened his jacket, glaring at Aiden with glistening eyes.

"I am not done with this matter, sir," he bristled indignantly as his face turned a deep shade of red. "By failing to uphold my hereditary claim, you have forced me to bring this matter to one of your betters. Your callous disregard for tradition and law is unbecoming of a Lord of Aielund, and I will be taking this to the king himself."

"Considering even I haven't been able to arrange an audience with His Majesty in six months, I don't think highly of your prospects," Aiden answered gruffly. "But by all means, go and bother someone else." Without waiting for further response from either man, he turned and left the room.

"Shall I see them out, My Lord?" Jeffrey mumbled unsteadily as Aiden stormed past him down the hallway.

"Yes, and tell the guards to refuse them entry for the next month," he instructed, heading for his offices in a foul mood. Only when he shut the door behind him did he take a deep breath to calm himself down. He couldn't quite explain it, but he found himself quick to anger these days, and had to take steps to actively dismiss his building fury.

The surrounds of the sitting room were not as comforting as they should have been, for while the place was filled with plush furniture and appointments left over from the previous baron, Aiden still felt a chill the blazing fireplace couldn't dispel. This is where Alaric Roebec had perished, after the long battle to bring him and his otherworldly armour down.

"Are you alright?" Sir Leonard inquired with genuine concern. Aiden hadn't noticed him in the room and almost jumped at his softly spoken words.

"Yes, I'm fine," he blurted, regaining his composure.

"I wasn't expecting you back from the meeting so soon. But we can go over the reports now, if you wish."

"The reports. Yes, that's why I'm here," Aiden muttered, drawing another concerned look from the elderly knight. Leonard had lost weight in recent months, seeming paler than when they had first met. His hair was thin and white, and his brown eyes had lost some of their spark. He no longer wore his armour unless absolutely necessary, and went about his duties in thick winter clothing. "I think it's time for you to retire," Aiden mentioned to the old knight. "I can handle things now, and you've served long enough I think."

"Trying to put me out to pasture are you now?" Leonard chided, chuckling to himself as he led Aiden to a large table covered in papers and maps.

"Don't play coy with me, sir knight" Aiden pressed with a half-smile on his face. "You've been dropping subtle hints for months now."

"I admit I'll enjoy my remaining years in a comfortable chair, half-asleep next to the fireplace, but not until my work is done. By the time summer rolls around, I think you'll be ready to stand on your own two feet. Until then, you'll have to put up with my tedious and painstaking instruction."

"I'm sure I'll be the better for it," Aiden assured him, dropping the subject. "Now, what news from the front line?" Sir Leonard handed him some missives, which he reluctantly opened. They were from one of the lords he had loaned a company of his soldiers to, under orders from the king. After quickly scanning the neatly scrawled handwriting, Aiden sighed in despair. It was as he suspected — more casualties with little to show for it.

"How many?" Leonard asked in a hushed voice, having read Aiden's tired expression accurately.

"Thirty-five dead, fifty-three wounded," he intoned without emotion. "None of them were past nineteen years of age, Leo, and a few of them were as young as sixteen. God, Tom Ballard's sons were in amongst the casualties, how am I ever going to explain this to him?"

"Who?" Leonard asked.

"The innkeeper at the Bracksfordshire Arms," Aiden explained. "Sort of an old acquaintance of mine. Three of his sons volunteered for the war, and none of them made it through. Lord Carbrey didn't even have the decency to claim the objective, so it was all for nothing."

"The Tulsonites are using wizards again," Leonard remarked grimly. "This report says whole squads of Carbrey's his men simply fell asleep in the middle of the fight."

"He's is requesting a wizard or a priest to help counter them," Aiden added. "I think it's safe to assume all of the lords will be clamouring for arcane or divine aid if this starts to spread."

"Replacing them when they're killed isn't really possible, as it takes years to train up new magicians. Both sides are going to run out rapidly if this escalates."

"You think it's easy to replace good men who fall on the front line?" Aiden growled. "We're going to lose an entire generation if this stupid war keeps going. The bloody awful waste of it sickens me."

"I'm sorry, m'lord," Sir Leonard replied stiffly. Aiden took another deep breath and released his misdirected anger. After the defeat of the Ironlord, the hoped-for peace with the Kingdom of Tulsone had evaporated. Despite both nations dealing with a crippled military and shortage of supplies, the war had gone on. After a lull of a few weeks, raids into Aielish lands began to grow in frequency, quickly followed by reciprocating attacks by individual Aielish lords attempting to protect their holdings.

With the demise of King Évariste Davignon, his eldest son Osric had taken the throne and sworn vengeance upon King Seamus Roebec, who had led the fateful expedition into Tulsonite lands. Though both sides of the conflict had encountered the Ironlord and lost many lives to its single-minded rampage across the land, the bitter dispute between the two countries had only escalated after the deranged old man had finally been stopped at this very fort.

"Far be it for me to question the wisdom of His Majesty, but I do often wonder what on earth he's thinking lately," Sir Leonard remarked cautiously. "Given the lack of experience of most of our remaining forces, I find it highly unlikely Aielund will be able to win this war by force of arms alone, let alone continuing to prosecute it."

"I've been trying to tell him for six months, but I have no idea if the king has even received my messages," Aiden muttered, moving over to the fireplace to warm his hands. His thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

"What is it?" Aiden called, and the door opened enough for Jeffrey to poke his head through.

"Pardon the intrusion m'lord," the castellan said, "but there is a young woman here to see you."

"I'm in no mood for any more meetings, especially unscheduled ones," Aiden advised absently.

"As you wish m'lord."

"I'd agree that something odd is going on in Fairloch," Aiden continued after the castellan had withdrawn, "but you've already heard my theories on the subject."

"You still think they're hiding that grotesque armour someplace, don't you," Sir Leonard stated. "There have been no sightings of it for two years, so even if it were still intact, and the king was using it enough to wither his sanity, why would it not have shown up in the fighting? Why risk so much and leave the war hanging in the balance like this?" Aiden was about to answer when Jeffrey made his presence known once more.

"I do apologise m'lord, but she is being quite insistent," came the muted remark.

"Is she a messenger from the front lines?" Aiden inquired with a concerned frown.

"No, she said—"

"Then I'm not interested," the young baron interrupted. Once the door had clicked shut, he turned his mind back to the discussion at hand. "It's not the king I'm truly worried about, Leo," he continued. "He's not a fool. It's his pet wizard Terinus — he's operating behind the scenes, pulling everyone's strings like a puppet master."

"And you have proof of his machinations?" the old knight inquired bluntly.

"You know I don't," Aiden almost snapped at him. "But I never saw the remains of that armour, and my gut tells me the bastard has it stashed away someplace. Until I see its dismantled pieces on the ground before me, I refuse to believe otherwise."

"Considering it was his efforts that ultimately saved us all, I find your position on his conduct... myopic, at best," Sir Leonard remarked in a carefully worded response.

"His life was in danger, just as ours was, and after it was all over, he couldn't take his eyes off that armour," Aiden pointed out just as yet another knock on the door interrupted him. "Yes, what is it?" he snarled in frustration, only to see that it wasn't Jeffrey standing in the doorway, but a woman roughly the same age as Aiden, with long dark hair and a familiar bearing. She was dressed in a longcoat and other warm travelling gear, and her unkempt appearance gave the impression she had ridden long and hard over many days to arrive here.

"What does a girl have to do to get an audience around here?" she said with dry humour.

"Kara, this is a surprise," Aiden greeted her cautiously. "Are you work for the king's spymaster."

"Guilty as charged," Kara replied. "Sorry to barge in on you like this, but I need to speak with you in private, m'lord."

Aiden gave her a considered glance, and then nodded to Sir Leonard, who bowed slightly and exited the room. After the door was closed, the spy moved to the fireplace and warmed her hands for a moment before speaking.

"Bloody cold trip up here in the mountains," she remarked. "It's getting close to summer everywhere but here."

"Now you know why I'm so very fond of the place," Aiden drawled. "So, what is it you wish to speak with me about?"

"I bear greetings from Her Highness, Princess Criosa Roebec," Kara formaly announced. "She has entrusted me with a message for your ears only, and asked that I memorise it so there would be no physical proof." She suddenly had Aiden's undivided attention, for he had been trying to contact Criosa for months without success.

"Of course I trust you — is there a reason I shouldn't?"

"I'm a professional spy, mate," Kara reminded him with a glance from her dark eyes. "We're untrustworthy by nature. I guess I'm just a little less untrustworthy than the rest, which means I should probably start looking for another job."

"What's the message?" Aiden asked impatiently. Kara closed her eyes, reciting the words from memory.

"'Aiden, I haven't received any messages from you in months, and suspect you haven't heard from me either. Someone doesn't want us talking, and I believe I know who it is. My father is not the man he once was, for he has become obsessed with defeating Tulsone at any cost, and those who speak against him are threatened with bankruptcy and exile from the kingdom.

"I won't risk Kara forgetting something important, so I'll simply ask you to drop whatever you're doing and come to Fairloch immediately. I know you have the means. Love, Criosa.'" Kara cleared her throat and seemed to be a little embarrassed. "She's a lovely person, if a little disrespectful of my faculties."

Aiden was hardly listening, for his mind was whirling with the possibilities her message only hinted at. A change in behaviour from their once-beloved monarch was all-too similar to the deranged King Alaric, who had degenerated into a hate-filled monster after wearing the Ironlord armour. Aiden's worst fears may well be coming true, and the isolation from the capital he had experienced over the past months was clearly part of some larger design.

"Thank you for your service," Aiden absently mumbled to Kara. "If you feel it's too dangerous to return to Fairloch, Sir Leonard will see to your needs during your brief stay here."

"I am a loyal servant of Aielund, m'lord," Kara replied proudly. "If someone is working against the country's best interests, it's my duty to seek them out."

"You're with me, then," Aiden instructed while he leaned over and pulled a blue rope hanging from the ceiling. A bell rang briefly, and within moments, the castellan appeared through the doorway. "Jeffrey, I'll be departing for Fairloch immediately. You and Sir Leonard are to see to the fort's needs during my absence. Kara, give me a hand with this armour if you could."

"Very well m'lord," the castellan replied. "May I ask when you are expected to return?"

"I have no idea," Aiden informed him as he began attaching his belts and equipment, including his breastplate, with Kara's help. "I have some urgent business to conduct and there's no telling how long it will take. You'll have to get by without me until things settle down again."

"As you wish," Jeffrey replied without comment, although his face hinted at a hundred questions begging to be answered. "I shall have your horses prepared immediately."

"That won't be necessary," Aiden said as he donned his heavy longcoat and pulled on a pair of leather gloves. "I'll be using the alternate method today."

"Alternate method?" Kara inquired suspiciously.

"You're not afraid of magic, are you?" Aiden asked.

"Only if it's aimed at me."

"Don't worry, we'll probably be fine," Aiden said as he clapped Jeffrey on the shoulder on his way out the door. "I've become quite adept with this particular incantation, and there's almost no chance we'll end up somewhere we shouldn't." Aiden led her through the upper level of the keep until they arrived at a small library.

Aiden walked over to a writing desk on the far side of the room and touched one of the bricks on the wall behind it. With a slight application of pressure, the brick sank into the wall and simultaneously opened a small hatch next to it. Inside lay half a dozen scrolls, one of which Aiden took before closing the secret compartment once more.

The incantation upon the scroll in his hands would transport them more or less instantly to a specific place, and despite the convenience, Aiden had rarely used them. His mentor, Dean Desmond Foster had created them specifically for emergencies, and Aiden would be on the receiving end of the wizard's anger should he use them frivolously. They were interrupted by Sir Leonard, who appeared in the doorway to the library.

"Jeffrey said something about your leaving?" he inquired in disbelief. Aiden sighed to himself, realising that he was placing the fort's continued operation on the old knight's aged shoulders, when he really ought to be comfortably enjoying his twilight years.

"I'm sorry, old friend," Aiden apologised, "but a matter has come to light that requires my attention back at the capital."

"I see you're delving into the Dean's 'forbidden reserve'," Leonard remarked dourly. "I can only assume something of great import has arisen."

"Criosa is involved, so... yes," Aiden replied hesitantly. "I can't tell you more without potentially putting you in danger. The less you know, the better."

"I'm familiar with such situations," Sir Leonard nodded. "Whatever you've learned has shaken you badly, that much I can tell. Don't worry about Highmarch, I can manage here until your return."

"With any luck, I should only be a few days," Aiden suggested. He stepped forward and gave the old man a firm handshake, then unfurled the scroll and gestured for Kara to step out of the shadows.

"Good fortune to you, Lord Aiden," Sir Leonard said as way of goodbye, as Aiden read the incantation while fixing the sigil of the laboratory at the University of the Arcane in Fairloch in his mind. As the scroll crumbled into ash, the room around them vanished into a cloud of purple smoke, swirling in the darkness-between-places, accompanied by the horrible sensation of being pulled in several directions at once. A moment later, the very image of the laboratory he had in his mind coalesced into reality as they appeared within the University.

"That wasn't so bad was it?" Aiden inquired of the spy, who promptly ran for the nearest window to empty the contents of her stomach.

"Good lord, you certainly know how to make an entrance don't you?" Dean Foster barked from the other side of the laboratory, where he sat behind an ancient wooden desk.

"I hadn't planned on my friend's little display, actually," Aiden apologised, moving over to shake the old wizard's hand. He hadn't changed much over the last two years. The long white beard, simple grey robe and grumpy demeanour were the same as always, and Desmond's old grey cat, Major, sprawled upon his desk.

"Some people simply lack the fortitude for our line of work," the wizard shrugged with a half grin at Kara's distress. "Forgive my levity, miss, I haven't had much to laugh at lately."

"You'll get yours," Kara promised as she wiped her mouth and slumped in a seat near the fire.

"I take it from the arcane manner of your arrival that something of great importance has occurred?" Desmond asked of Aiden.

"Yes, I've received word of something happening within the city, and I didn't want to waste time on a week-long journey to find out more," Aiden explained. "Have you noticed anything strange around here of late?"

"Bah, you know me, always with my head in a book," Desmond shrugged. "I care little for the tiresome intricacies of government — that's more the Archchancellor's business, and he was always more politician than academic. What I will speak of, and loudly at that, is the deplorable use of our students as front-line soldiers in this damnable war!"

"I wasn't pleased to see that happen either," Aiden concurred grimly. "It's just another reason this conflict has to end."

"I don't think you fully grasp the magnitude of what's happening," the Dean bristled. "The brightest minds of this generation have been sent into that meat grinder like common soldiers. With each loss, a decade of training vanishes, and it takes years to find a replacement of similar calibre.

"Those young men and women should be deliberating the problems facing our people and serving humanity in general, instead of being used as weapons. The king is sacrificing our very future with this decision, and should things remain as they are, our ranks will be decimated.

"Were it not for my advanced years, I too would have been marched off to war like so many of my fellow faculty members. But it goes even deeper than that, my boy. There have been rumours that the king has reached out to exiled wizards across the land, men and women wanted by the Church for unethical arcane practices."

"Rogue wizards," Aiden stated, more than familiar with such people.

"Precisely. I know of three young ladies from years ago, sisters who should never have been allowed to study here. The Maddox sisters, that's right. Their talent was bountiful and their minds keen, but somewhere along the way their skills became twisted, and they pursued a path of magic long scorned by the vast majority of practitioners. I implored them to abandon such pursuits, but they simply couldn't resist the allure of the forbidden arts. When this was discovered, the three of them fled using some of this dark power and have not been seen for many years."

"You think the king has hired people like them?" Aiden asked incredulously. "I cannot believe the Church would permit it."

"I can scarcely believe it myself, yet the Archchancellor confided in me that there was an amnesty sent out, offering to expunge their sordid past in exchange for service to the Crown," Desmond spat. "The word is, certain concessions were made to the Church to allow this to happen, the nature of which are unknown to me. Yes, you were right to come here m'lord, for I suspect there are dire things afoot in our beloved city."

"I had no idea it was this bad," Aiden muttered. "Why didn't you tell me of this sooner? I know you have the means."

"I only learned of these developments last week," Desmond explained, "and I wasn't certain how to proceed. Political intrigue isn't exactly my area of expertise. These events did finally convince me to do a little digging for a certain artifact, however."

"You have?" Aiden asked, suddenly intrigued. "I thought you had a moral objection to investigating one of your own?"

"It went against every fibre of my being to do so, and although Terinus is a colleague, I couldn't overlook the possibility you may be right, given these recent developments."

"The fact you never contacted me about this suggests you didn't find anything," Aiden surmised, his excitement diminishing.

"If the armour is being kept within the city, I could not locate it," Desmond muttered. "However, I cannot rule out the possibility Terinus may be hiding it at his personal tower out in the Blackwood, but I can't get access to that tower.

"I appreciate the effort, regardless of the outcome," Aiden said, understanding the difficult situation the wizard must have been in. "I'll weigh everything you've told me when I speak with my contacts in the city."

"I'm sorry I couldn't provide more information," Desmond said in a rare moment of contrition. A deep sense of foreboding came over Aiden as his mind assembled the facts together, the culmination of months of uncertainly pointing towards a bleak reality.

"Thank you for telling me all of this my friend, but I have to keep moving. I'll be in touch." He nodded to Kara, who followed Aiden towards the doorway.

"If you feel a need to rest in safety, the University is always available to you," Desmond called as the two of them descended the stairs.

"Did you know about all of that?" Aiden asked his companion.

"I hadn't heard about rogue wizards being recruited," Kara replied, "but I'm sure Kinsey would be keeping that sort of thing quiet. People tend to be skittish enough around magic without giving life to their fears. As for using students and whatnot, well, if you're desperate enough to win a fight, you use every weapon at your disposal."

"They're people, not weapons," Aiden pointed out.

"They're weapons just like any other soldier," Kara corrected. "Wizards just use different means to accomplish the same end — victory."

"I still don't like it."

"You don't have to m'lord," Kara advised. "It's war." Aiden considered this as they passed by classrooms in the silent tower, emptied in the king's pursuit of victory. Although he'd never really connected with the occupants of the tower, Aiden had never wanted the men and women who studied here marched off to war. Even the small metal construct that guarded the front gate of the university was gone, presumably sent off to fight in the name of Aielund.

Aiden was in a bleak mood as they exited the tower and strode across the compound, suddenly eager to meet with Criosa and talk about all of the disturbing things he'd learned.

The streets of Fairloch were almost completely clear of snow at this time of year, with only a light slush still visible on the flagstones, themselves appearing to be overdue for repair. Having been away from the city for months, Aiden was acutely aware of the dilapidated condition of the city. Fairloch had always been the shining beacon of civilisation in the north, and to see it slowly decaying from neglect hurt the young baron more than he thought, leading him to one inescapable conclusion.

There was something rotten in the heart of Aielund.

Chapter Two

The cold grey stone of Fairloch Castle loomed before them, as Aiden and Kara moved through the crowd along the main street. Aiden paid scant attention to the masses of people, absorbed with his thoughts as he was. His eyes drifted across their faces, barely registering their tired and careworn features, until he caught sight of an alluring young woman moving towards them. Her hair was blond, but so pale as to be almost white, and at the sight of Aiden her smile lit up her face.

"Lord Aiden, your presence honours us," Dame Nellise Sannemann greeted him with a curtsey. She wore an elegant and flowing blue dress that was both impractical and flattering. It was the first time Aiden had seen her in anything but a simple white robe, or a suit of armour, and it took a moment for his mouth to start working again.

"You don't ever have to call me that, Nel" Aiden said, somewhat embarrassed. "We've been through too much to start calling each other by our titles."

"A force of habit, forgive me," she explained. "Living on the frontier shields you from much of tedious etiquette I must endure here in the capital." She then proceeded to throw protocol to the wind and embraced him in warm hug.

"That's more like it," Aiden breathed, enjoying the moment. "It's good to see you again — a year is too long to be apart from my close friends. I've never seen you dress so casually before either, it looks good on you."

"That's kind of you to say, but it's a sort of disguise, actually," Nellise said, smoothing down the folds with both hands. "I can't wear a robe of the clergy without attracting the wrong sort of attention."

"I don't understand," Aiden remarked in confusion. Before he could say more, she placed a finger on her lips and shook her head.

"Not here," she said, linking her arm with his. "Come along you two, we'll find some place a little more private."

"We were actually heading to the castle to find—" Aiden protested mildly before being interrupted.

"I've just come from the there and let me assure you, you'll find what you're looking for at the Fair Maiden Inn," Nellise advised. Once the pleasure of their reunion had passed, Aiden noticed a hardness to her features that hadn't been there the last time he'd seen her. The cleric's golden eyes, once innocent and trusting, seemed suspicious and troubled.

"Lead the way," he mumbled with a curious glance at Kara. The spy said nothing, but she glanced around at the crowd in the manner of someone who wasn't entirely sure they were safe.

It was only a short walk to the inn, built conveniently close to the road leading to the castle itself. The familiar warmth of the inn brought back memories of previous visits, though the mood back then was much lighter. A pall hung over the few patrons in the establishment, who sat apart from each other and sipped their drinks in silence. The space above the bar was dominated by the familiar painting of Constance, the naked "fair maiden" the inn took its name from.

"You recall what happened to me towards the end of the fight at Highmarch?" Nellise whispered as she slowly led them across the floor.

"How could I forget," Aiden replied. "You were the vessel of some divine force. It's not the sort of thing anyone would forget."

"Most of the defenders at the fort were dead or unconscious at the time, so only a handful bore witness to the event. Afterward, rumours of that divine visitation began to spread, and the Church took a particularly keen interest but because it wasn't one of the proper members of the Church, they're rather upset with me," Nellise whispered, barely audible. "You know of my disfavour with the clergy — how do you think they reacted when the very person they ejected from the Church is suddenly perceived as the favoured of Kylaris?"

"Poorly," Aiden responded dryly.

"That's putting it mildly. They made every effort to stamp out those rumours, and moved to prevent anyone idolising me. I actually approve of that last measure, but the Church simply couldn't allow the notion of someone outside the organisation being shown as worthier than they. I imagine they were concerned their flock would desert the organisation entirely."

"I thought the Archieros was above such things," Aiden whispered, recalling the kindly, ancient man he had met briefly years ago.

"He is very frail, and has little to do with the daily affairs of the Church anymore," Nellise confided. "Others are in charge now, priests with ambitions more political than ecclesiastical. To be honest, I'm glad to be outside of the Church now, for it has changed in the last year into something I would no longer be proud to be a part of. Only my standing with the Crown prevents them from taking action against me, which brings its own moral dilemmas." They had stopped moving altogether now, and stood close to the fireplace, conducting the conversation in whispers.

"Are you having problems with the Crown?" Aiden inquired.

"Of a sort. I have always been a charitable person, doing what I can for those who need help, but the demands of my office require me to give a large portion of what little wealth my lands generate to the war effort, which I oppose with vocally. Many of the lords are outraged that a knight — and a woman — would dare speak against the king, so I have been forced to walk a fine line between disobedience and compliance."

"It never rains, it pours," Aiden muttered in disbelief. "First the Crown starts acting strangely, then the University and now the Church. The three pillars of power within the city are all changing, somehow. They have to be connected. Did you know the Church is allowing rogue wizards to work for us now?"

"Yes, and that alone speaks of the corruption at the heart of all this," Nellise said grimly. "Criosa and I have spoken at length about it, but we couldn't act without more aid. That's where you come in." She gestured for them to sit at a small alcove near the fireplace on the far side of the common room. One person — probably a woman — was seated at a table, partially hidden underneath a hooded cloak. Aiden took a seat opposite and gazed curiously at her, noticing the dark hair and fine features.

"Aiden," she breathed in relief, reaching out to touch his hand. The young baron immediately recognised Criosa's voice, but couldn't reconcile it the strange face it came from. "I'm in disguise, and apparently it's working very well." She closed her eyes and made a sweeping gesture with one hand over her face and suddenly, her features resolved into her familiar appearance.

"That's a nice trick, that is," Kara marvelled. "I knew I should have paid to study magic."

"You have no idea how glad I am to see you again," Aiden said, grasping her hands with his and staring into her large blue eyes. Like Nellise, she seemed burdened with troubles, the likes of which Aiden could easily guess.

"I think I have some idea," she admonished him as her smile rapidly faded. "Nellise has told you much, but there's more to be said. Thank you for bringing him here, Kara. I need you to continue your work, as discussed."

"As you wish, Highness," the spy replied, getting back on her feet. "I'll be in touch."

"What work have you got her doing?" Aiden asked curiously.

"I'm gathering allies," Criosa said. "People I can trust, such as the two of you."

"She seems like a responsible young woman," Nellise remarked after Kara had left. "Does his presence indicate the king's spymaster is on our side as well?"

"Kinsey is a loyal servant of my father," Criosa responded. "If he has any doubts about his king, he's keeping them close to his chest. Kara is one of his senior agents now, but she's still young and open to alternative points of view. Still, I had to use my charms to bring her under my wing, but it was worth the effort. She's proven to be a valuable asset."

Aiden nodded appreciatively, but found himself entranced in the presence of the woman he had loved for years. He focused on the movement of her lips, the way she tilted her head when she spoke and the sparkle in her blue eyes when she gazed at him. Their time apart had been hard on both of them, far more than he cared to admit.

"So, what else have you learned?" Aiden asked of her. "Things seem bad enough already."

"Did you hear of the changes in the Senate?" she asked, to which Aiden shook his head. "My father championed its introduction years ago, but has recently decided the experiment has failed. 'It is a corruption of the noble ideals from which it was wrought', he said to me when I urged him to reconsider. He cited examples of the nobility simply buying the votes needed to install their preferred candidates, and if true, they should be investigated and prosecuted.

"Instead, he has disbanded the Senate and reinstated the House of Lords, as of a week ago, which is ironic given how corrupt they were known to be in the past. It was this action which prompted me to send for you, actually. We have to do something about this."

"You know what I'm going to say," Aiden cautioned. "Your father isn't himself lately because he still has Alaric's relic armour somewhere around here, and it's warping his mind."

"Not that I've seen, and I'm rather certain if my father was walking around in a giant suit of monstrous armour, I would have noticed," Criosa informed him delicately. "Terinus might still have it, but if the king has been using it, it hasn't been out in the open. Which beggars the question — what would be the point? If he truly had that armour, he could end this war in a matter of days, yet it continues on regardless."

"I'll admit, it doesn't make sense, but your father was always so level-headed," Aiden conceded. "What else could have tipped him over the edge like this?"

"I don't know," Criosa replied, almost sobbing. Aiden squeezed her hands, taken aback by the sudden display of emotion. "I honestly cannot explain why he's acting this way, but... we have to stop him, for his own sake."

"How can we help?" Nellise asked gently.

"My father may be beyond reason, but if we can convince the lords of his fraying sanity, they can declare him unfit to rule and remove him from power."

"Wouldn't that put you on the throne?" Aiden asked cautiously. "They might see this as a grab for power on your part."

"True, but it's up to me to convince them it's in the best interests of the kingdom," Criosa replied. "There are a number of lords who I'm very popular with. I doubt I will have trouble swaying them to the cause, and hopefully they will bring others along with them."

"The king has returned them to a position of power," Nellise warned. "I find it unlikely they will turn on him so easily."

"We have little recourse, at this point," Criosa sighed. "If this fails, I doubt anything short of an armed rebellion would supplant the leadership of the country, and the implications of that are far too dire to consider. We must succeed." Aiden exchanged a glance with Nellise, who appeared doubtful, but neither of them had a better plan.

"Alright, we try it and see where it leads," Aiden conceded.

"Thank you both for your support," Criosa breathed. "I know this isn't the reunion you were hoping for."

"It took an emergency to reunite us," Aiden remarked with a wan smile. "Part of me is being selfish, and is actually glad of it. It's only a small part, though."

"I want to address the lords right away, so we should make our way there at once," she continued. "But first, there's one more task I need you to perform, Aiden." Criosa swept one hand across her face, reinstating the illusion of the strange young woman. She then stood up from the table and opened her arms expectantly. Aiden grinned in understanding, then stood and embraced her, kissing her with a passion fuelled by being apart for so long. Criosa giggled in a very un-princess like fashion, and then they separated once more, avoiding each other's eyes.

Upon exiting the inn, they merged with the crowd as they headed north, towards what was formerly known as the Senate District. Aiden mused upon this name as they walked, pondering the implications of this subtle change in the halls of power. Senators were elected by the people, even if it was only the nobility who were permitted to cast votes. Aiden knew that King Seamus wanted to expand the system to include more of the population, but had found stiff resistance to this amongst the elected senators.

Opting to reinstate the lords was probably what they had wanted all along, but for the king to simply give up on something he had previously desired with great passion was peculiar, at best. The lords would indeed be against any move to rein in their king, given their triumphant return to power. Aiden said nothing of this to Criosa, however, for despite her brave exterior, she was far more upset about this than she let on. Her one hope of avoiding a tragedy rested upon convincing wealthy nobles they should bite the hand that feeds them.

This was all part of a string of strange decisions on the part of their monarch, a large number of minor issues that together, added up to aberrant behaviour that was bleeding the country dry.

They passed through the central marketplace, usually a bustling affair where the people would do their shopping for the day. The place was crowded, but only a few tired-looking vegetables were on display, and even those were rapidly being scooped up by desperate-looking people in search of whatever scraps they could find.

Aiden felt a black mood throughout the city, the collective murmurings of thousands of unsatisfied people a steady noise in his ears, those whose lives were progressively becoming worse as the war went on. The mood remained unchanged as the trio moved into the more affluent parts of the city, but the City Watch was out in force, keeping an eye out for any troublemakers.

In the distance, a muffled roar could be heard, growing in clarity and volume as Aiden and his two companions moved closer to the old senate. A sense of foreboding came over him as the garbled sound resolved into the screams and cries of angry people.

As they turned the corner, the scale of the disturbance became apparent. Thousands of citizens surrounded the senate building, hurling rocks, debris, abuse, and whatever else was handy at the men inside. A vast number of the Watch formed a wall between the disgruntled citizenry and the entrance to the building, and although there was no violence as yet, the air was thick with tension, threatening to plunge the gathering into a bloody riot.

"Damnation," Criosa muttered, noticing they were effectively blocked. "Another protest. We need to find a way through the crowd."

"Another?" Aiden inquired. "How often has this been happening?"

"Every few days now," Criosa explained. "It started to become a regular occurrence last month. Resources are scarce, as there are too few people to work the fields and too much of it earmarked for the military. These people are hungry, and nothing is being done about it."

"It's only a matter of time before gatherings like this end in riots," Nellise lamented.

"I'll ask one of the Watchmen for an escort," Aiden said, spotting a man in the blue tabard of the City Watch nearby. He moved through some of the more peaceful onlookers and caught the attention of the watchman.

"I can probably get you through," the grizzled veteran replied to Aiden's request, "but if you can get your business done some other day, I'd advise you to do so. I've seen crowds like this before and believe me, it's going to get worse before it gets better."

"I'd rather be somewhere else, but this can't be delayed," Aiden said, leaning in closer so he could be heard over the ruckus. "Just make a path and we'll take care of ourselves."

"As you wish sir," the watchman replied. Aiden waved the two ladies over and followed their protector through the crowd. Those on the outskirts of the throng were more interested in passively watching events unfold, but as they pushed forward, they began to meet the leaders of the loud protest.

Aiden was jostled about as some of the rougher participants started to push back against the watchmen struggling to keep things under control. Harsh words were shouted right next to his ears, and he could think of a hundred other places he'd rather be.

Along with their escort, Aiden focused on opening a path for the two ladies, both of whom were bearing the full brunt of the crowd's ire. Both wore expensive clothing, even if Criosa's were partially concealed beneath her heavy cloak. Their slow progress began to fray at their nerves, and none of them were used to being the subject of hurled insults. The vehemence in the voices shocked Aiden, and he wondered how they'd react if they knew it was their king's daughter they were yelling at.

A sharp pain exploded onto the side of Aiden's head and he staggered for a moment, realising somebody had thrown a bottle in his direction. Unwilling to stay in amongst the unruly crowd any longer than he had to, he ignored the assault and pressed forward. His escort, however, wasn't as willing to let the matter slide.

"Oy, you! I'll 'ave you, mate!" he called in challenge to the young, sandy-haired lad who had thrown the projectile. The watchman took out his billy-club and proceeded to subdue him with a series of heavy blows.

"Easy there, man!" Aiden bellowed, appalled at the display of brutality from the watchman. The assault stopped as soon as it had begun, but the lad was left bloodied and bruised. Aiden couldn't stop to berate the Watchman for his actions, but made a mental note to address the issue later.

Much to the relief of Aiden and his companions, they finally made it through to the wide stone stairs of the senate. The sense of security at being freed from the press of outraged humanity lasted only a moment, for they were now in the firing line for all sorts of thrown objects. Aiden spoke a quiet word, summoning an almost clear disc of force with his latent sorcery, providing cover on their final run to the doors.

After he'd slammed them shut behind him, Aiden stood with his back against the doors catching his breath. Nellise adjusted her dress, while Criosa dismissed her illusionary face with a wave of her hand.

"That was thoroughly unpleasant," she remarked quietly as she tidied her hair.

"I had no idea there were so many angry people here," Aiden added in astonishment. "Things are far worse than I realised." He took in the refinement of the décor inside the senate building, a stark contrast to the dilapidated state most of the city appeared to be in.

Two guardsmen armoured in ceremonial breastplates stood watch at the door, while a number of tense officials went about their business. The stairway to the upper floor where the lords gathered, beckoned to them from the opposite site of the large, carpeted hall. Standing before it, however, was an officious old man with white hair and a bristling moustache, glaring at them from beneath an impressive set of eyebrows.

"The lords are in session, ladies and gentleman," he admonished them. "They cannot be disturbed. Whatever matters you wish to discuss must wait until their deliberations have complete."

"I believe they will make an exception for me," Criosa stated, releasing the clasp on her cloak to reveal her identity to all. She wore a flowing red dress not entirely dissimilar to Nellise's, but if anything, it was even more elaborately designed, with all manner of flourishes and clever stitching.

"Your Highness," the official remarked in surprise, bowing low. "Forgive me, my sight isn't what it used to be, you understand. The lords will be more than happy to receive a visit from the heir to the throne."

"I should hope so," Criosa murmured, handing off her cloak to one of the guards. With a quick gesture for Aiden and Nellise to follow, she flowed along the carpeted path towards the stairs. Despite the gravity of the situation, Aiden found himself distracted by the sway of her hips as she ascended with grace and poise, but quickly snapped out of the trance when they reached the top floor.

A pair of ceremonial guardsmen stood to either side of the upper doors, all four men aged, but standing proud and tall in their traditional duties. They recognised the princess immediately and stood at attention.

"Good morning, gentlemen," Criosa greeted them cordially. "I will be addressing the House today, so if you would be so kind as to announce us...?"

"Certainly, Your Highness," one of the men replied with a weathered voice. "It is a pleasure to see you here once more, as well as your companions Lord Aiden and Dame Nellise." He then stepped forward to open the doors, and the near silence of the hall suddenly vanished as the rumbling voices of two dozen men filled the air.

The grand chamber had been refurbished since Aiden's last visit, with large, overstuffed chairs providing comfort to the elderly men who occupied it. An inner row of seating curled around a central pulpit, with another row of chairs rose up behind the first, so all who occupied the room would look down upon the proceedings.

"My Lords," the guardsman declared upon entering the chamber, "I present Her Highness the Princess Criosa Roebec, heir to the throne of Aielund, Lord Aiden Wainwright, Baron of Highmarch, and Dame Nellise Sannemann, of the Order of the Rose Eagle."

The Lords went silent as he began speaking, and erupted in applause as soon as Criosa stepped forward. She basked in the glow of their attention for a moment, all aimed directly at her. They seemed to be ignoring Aiden and Nellise, which was not unusual in the presence of a member of the royal family, but it still irritated the baron for some reason.

Despite their gesture of welcoming, there was reluctance in the manner of their applause. Aiden had always been a good judge of character, and could sense hostility just beneath the surface. Only their respect for the Crown kept this from becoming blatantly obvious, but the thin veneer of civility was more insulting than if they had simply sat in silence.

As the applause died down, the Speaker of the House stepped to one side and allowed Criosa to stand before the lectern. When she spoke, all traces of doubt or stress disappeared, pushed aside with practiced ease.

"Thank you for that warm reception, My Lords," she addressed them, no doubt keenly aware of the coldness of their manner. "I understand you have weighty matters of great importance to the kingdom to discuss, so I will keep my interruption as brief as possible."

"We come before you today to speak of my father, your king, and the choices he has made in recent times. We all know how this war began. My father did his utmost to avoid conflict with our Tulsonite neighbours for all the right reasons, but in the end, war was unavoidable. Our people fought long and hard and achieved a great victory at Fort Highmarch, against an implacable foe of which you are all fully acquainted."

"But it didn't end there. King Osric Davignon, having recently taken the throne left empty by his deceased father, has made known his desire to exact vengeance upon my father for the wounds suffered by his kingdom. I would like to think that our diplomats did their utmost to placate our enemy and restore the peace, but I recently learned there never was an effort to end this war. No diplomats were sent, no missives seeking a peaceful resolution. Nothing. It's almost as if our generals wanted this war to continue."

"Forgive my interruption, Highness," an overweight, richly-clothed man with tremendous mutton chops said, "but with King Osric hell-bent on revenge, what point would there have been to any peace effort?"

"The mere fact there wasn't even an attempt to speak with him beggar's belief, Lord Carson," Criosa responded smoothly. "Would it not have been better to claim the high moral ground, at the very least?"

"Mere sophistry," Lord Carson scoffed, revealing some of the disdain Aiden had sensed earlier. "The Tulsonites have been a thorn in our side for many years. It's high time we put them in their place!" This received some general murmurs of assent, and Aiden found himself fuming at their casual manner.

"Many of our merchants have prospered from trade with our western neighbours over the years," Criosa disputed, "all of which ceased when war was declared. Consider the opportunities going to waste in the name of this bloody conflict." There was a murmur of reluctant consent from many of the assembled lords, indicating they were feeling the pinch of reduced income.

"Our great nation is being crippled by this unceasing conflict, My Lords, and I would have an end to it," Criosa pressed, interrupting their musings. "It is all well and good for you to speak so calmly of war, but the continued hostilities are taking their toll on both people and resources. Have you not looked outside this morning? Have you not heard the cries of dismay as our people go hungry?"

"The hardships of this conflict are not unknown to us," another lord interrupted her, a hard-looking man of lean build, with a balding pate and sharp eyes. "These very issues are the result of a dysfunctional senate, and the very reason it was disbanded. Wartime is hardly appropriate for conducting grand experimental changes to the very fabric of our society. Now that we have been rightfully reinstated, we can see to these and other matters with the utmost urgency."

"Nothing short of ending this war is going to put a stop to these hardships of which you speak, Lord Alwyn," Nellise chimed in, moving forward to stand beside Criosa. "Too many fields are left fallow, without young men and women to work them. You cannot restore our country to its former glory without first finding a way to—"

"You have no right to speak here, Dame Nellise," Lord Alwyn interrupted her sternly. "You are neither royalty nor a lord, and I would ask that you keep your silence out of respect for your betters."

"Then I'll speak," Aiden bellowed, glaring back at Alwyn. "Men as young as sixteen are conscripted into the military and forced to fight in what I can only describe as a meat-grinder. If this war isn't stopped, we are in danger of losing an entire generation to this conflict, over what? A few bruised egos? The prospect of proving ourselves better than they are? All you would prove is that we are more savage, fully prepared to stand on a mountain of bodies to attain our goals. This is not the country I grew up in sir, not even remotely."

"Your words border on treason!" Lord Carson blustered, turning red in the face. "The war continues because that is the decree of our king, sir!"

"Then he's wrong!" Aiden shouted, causing an uproar in the chamber as the lords all began shouting their displeasure at once. The cacophony continued for a long moment before the Speaker rapped his gavel onto the lectern and called for quiet. Criosa gave Aiden a sharp look, and he knew he'd let his temper get the better of him once more.

"I do not believe it is treason to love one's country, My Lords," Criosa said once they had taken their seats once more. "We all love Aielund, of that I have no doubt, but I have come here today to ask for a favour from you all."

"You and your associates have a strange manner of asking, but we will hear you, out of respect for your father," Lord Alwyn stated coldly.

"It is of my father I wish to speak. Something within him has changed over the past two years. We all know him as a kind and just ruler, but the orders he has given of late have been completely out of character. I know him better than any of you, and I fear something terrible has happened to him. No longer does he hear my words, or heed the counsel of his most loyal citizens — such as these two upstanding people here with me."

"For the good of the kingdom, I must ask something I never thought I would have to — I ask... no, I beg, that you remove him from the throne and—"

She never had a chance to finish the sentence. The roar of protest from the assembled lords was deafening, with only a handful of them remaining silent. Once more the Speaker called for silence, and once it was restored, one of the other lords spoke up, a man with chiselled features and a short white beard.

"Just to be clear, Highness, you would have us remove the king on the grounds he is no longer fit to rule, yes?"

"That is correct, Lord Kent," Criosa confirmed.

"This is indeed a grave request, and one that we cannot grant without the vast majority of approval," Kent mused.

"She is trying to take the throne for herself!" Lord Carson blustered, slamming his fist onto his chair's armrest. His words sparked off a heated debate amongst the lords, and Aiden suspected they wouldn't come to an agreement any time soon. Lord Alwyn stood and raised his hand for calm, in stark contrast to the frantic hammering of the Speaker earlier.

"I will concede that a case could be made for deposing the king, given the right conditions," he hedged, to the outraged shock of some of his contemporaries, "but there are many other issues to discuss. I move that we begin an emergency session at once and bar the doors until we reach a resolution." The majority of the lords harrumphed their approval.

"This may take some time, Highness," Lord Kent explained. "Despite the controversial nature of your visit, we thank you for speaking courageously. Why don't you and your companions return to the palace and we shall send for you when we have reached a conclusion?"

"Thank you, Lord Kent, assembled lords," Criosa said with a curtsey. "I hope you make the right decision, for Aielund's sake. She then turned and led Aiden and Nellise back out through the magnificent doors. They shut with a hollow boom, and the sound of a lock being turned could be heard.

"Come, let us speak about all this some more in comfortable surroundings," Criosa suggested.

"I don't know about you, but I could really use a drink," Aiden muttered as he contemplated running the gauntlet of outraged citizenry once more.

Chapter Three

The crackling fireplace at the Fair Maiden was small comfort to Aiden and his friends as they sat, sipping their drinks and allowing themselves a moment to unwind. The crowd had been just as unforgiving on their way out, and small pockets of violence had flared up as the City Watch, their nerves frayed by the ongoing tension, lashed out at the troublemakers.

With Criosa's disguise in place, they relaxed for a while and spoke of better times, though the conversation was embarrassingly short. Still, Aiden enjoyed the closeness with the woman he loved, and wasn't afraid to show his true feelings for her in public. Only when Nellise began blushing furiously did he make an effort to curtail his affections, for the sake of her modesty.

While the two ladies spoke together quietly, Aiden found himself with a little free time, a rare commodity in his hectic life. He retrieved a small, worn metal cube from his pouch he referred to as the Lexicon. It was an ancient device containing the sum total of knowledge from a long-dead civilisation. Though his schedule rarely permitted it, whenever he was able, Aiden would flip through the ghostly pages that hovered above the cube's surface, gleaning whatever information he could translate.

The baron often lamented the course his life had taken. When he was younger, all he had wanted was to understand the strange events he had witnessed in a cave he had fallen into. As time went on, Aiden had simply been fascinated by the world of the arcane, which reinforced his desire to become a practitioner of the arcane arts at the University. But it had all been pushed aside in the name of duty.

Kara showed up later in the day, the spy having conducted some special mission Criosa refused to elaborate on. In addition to her assignment, the young woman had relevant news which did nothing to ease their rattled nerves.

"Sounds to me like you got out of there just in time," she remarked. "Not ten minutes after you left the House of Lords, a full-scale riot erupted out front. The Watch is having a hard time putting it down, and if you were upset over their treatment of people earlier My Lord, you probably don't want to hear more about it."

"I'll let my imagination run wild," Aiden replied dourly.

"That's only the half of it," Kara continued. "It's well-known the Watch are undermanned lately, with too many old-timers and inexperienced newcomers. So, to put down the riot, they've called in priests to help."

"What?" Nellise stammered in surprise.

"Two dozen of the clergy showed up as I was leaving, dressed in chain mail and carrying staves. They reinforced the front line and weren't afraid to dish out punishment."

"Are you sure they weren't inquisitors?" Aiden suggested, speaking of the only Order in the Church of Aielund permitted to use violence to resolve their problems.

"All members of the inquisition are actively involved in the war," Kara answered. "Some of them are even working behind enemy lines, from what I hear. No, these were not the sort of priests you'd normally see cracking a staff over someone's head."

"After all their protestations of adhering to peace, to the point of banishing me from the Resolute Heralds chapter," Nellise stated incredulously, "they end up walking the same path as I. Unbelievable."

"The Archieros must be far gone indeed to allow them to take up arms in this manner," Criosa mumbled.

"I don't think he has much say in the day-to-day affairs of the Church anymore," Nellise remarked. "In his desperation, the king has given them more and more power of late, in exchange for their continuing support for the war. The senior members of the Hierarchy have been reluctant to exercise this power so far, but its corrupting influence will soon change that. Not since the time of the Divine Templars has the Church held this sort of influence."

"Who were they?" Kara asked.

"I take it you haven't studied your history," Nellise remarked blandly. "I can't really blame you, as neither the Church nor the Crown have gone to great lengths to remind people of that dark time. Suffice it to say, they were an order of the Church of Aielund dedicated to strength through purity, and they took their role in the development of society very seriously indeed. Dozens died and hundreds were persecuted for 'crimes of morality'. I fear we might be heading down that road once more."

"Perhaps you should speak up about it before things deteriorate that far," Aiden suggested, disturbed by what he was hearing.

"I find myself in a precarious position," Nellise replied with a mirthless grin. "As a knight of the realm, I am too close to the Crown for the Church to listen to me, and of course my past history with them is less than cordial. Never in my life has it proven so problematic to simply do as my conscience demands. The mantle of my title weighs heavily on me, Highness, and I would be rid of it."

"I need you now, more than ever," Criosa insisted. "Things are moving along more quickly than I anticipated, and if the Lords don't speak in our favour, we may have to take drastic measures." Nellise wore a pensive expression as she considered this for a moment, before answering with a slow, almost regretful nod.

Criosa smiled wanly with relief and touched her friend's arm with an outstretched hand. At that moment, it occurred to Aiden how alone Criosa must have felt dealing with the increasingly erratic behaviour of her father, and he cursed the time he had been forced to spend out on the frontier of the Kingdom.

"How did it all come to this?" Aiden wondered aloud, in little more than a whisper. "Where did we go wrong?" Each of his companions glanced at the other, unable to find an answer.

"Regardless of what led us here, we must keep fighting to preserve our way of life," Criosa eventually stated resolutely. "We cannot let all we have gone through be for naught. My father may be sick, but there are times when he has a moment of clarity, and I see within him the man he once was. He needs our help, even if he doesn't realise it. Even if he's fighting us with everything he has."

"We're with you, Criosa, relax," Aiden said in an effort to placate her. Realising she had become overwrought, the princess wiped a hand over her eyes and made an effort to compose herself.

"All of that drinking has gone straight to my head," she said, turning to Nellise. "Perhaps you could accompany me to the restroom?"

"Of course," Nellise replied hastily, standing up to allow Criosa to squeeze past. "We'll be right back," she said as the ladies strolled across the common room.

"How many did she have?" Kara asked, counting the glasses on the table.

"Just the one," Aiden remarked. "There's a lady with no stomach for strong drink." The spy smirked, but wisely held her tongue.

Patrons were starting to file in as the day wore on, giving the inn a familiar, welcoming ambience, it had been lacking. Kara, seated across from Aiden, seemed content to sit and sip her beer, but the baron took the opportunity to ask about her earlier assignment.

"So, what does she have you running around for?" he inquired quietly, mindful of anyone within earshot. "Something about gathering allies, I hear?"

"Something like that," Kara answered, scratching her nose awkwardly.

"Would you care to elaborate?" Aiden pressed, mildly amused by her reluctance to speak.

"I'm supposed to keep it quiet. If she hasn't told you, you're not going to find out through me. But as I said earlier, I'm working for the best interests of the Kingdom."

Before Aiden could respond, he noticed a group of heavy-set men moving quickly in his direction, their eyes locked upon him. Although dressed in common clothing, their bearing suggested they were trained warriors. Alarmed, Aiden stood up and put a hand on the hilt of his sword, watching their approach with cold confidence. The men reached under their tunics and pulled out billy-clubs, the sort used by the City Watch. Aiden spoke a word of command and summoned his translucent force shield, ready to defend himself.

"If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, you might want to rethink what you're about to do," Aiden warned, unafraid of half a dozen Watchmen. The crowd parted as they caught wind of trouble, allowing them to approach even faster. They had refused to reply, and Aiden was trying to think of a way out of this situation without killing them.

A sudden explosion of pain on the back of his head sent Aiden to his knees, and his mind reeling from the blow. He barely had the strength to turn around and stare in bleary-eyed shock at Kara, who was holding a small club in one hand and looking down on him without remorse, before blacking out.

* * *

A sensation of cold dampness roused Aiden from a dreamless sleep, and the insistent sound of dripping water from somewhere nearby refused to let him return to oblivion. The pain in the back of his skull caused him to groan, as he cracked open his eyelids and turned his head to one side. He was lying on a cold stone floor, in a dark room of some sort. The echoing drips indicated a large, open space with stone walls, but he couldn't see well enough to know for sure. The stench was terrible, a mixture of unwashed bodies, human waste, and death.

Aiden's head was a mess. He couldn't remember where he was or why he was here. Struggling to sit, he gingerly touched his scalp and felt a sticky dampness with his fingers — blood. As his faculties returned, he could hear the quiet breathing of other people in nearby cells, accompanied by an occasional whimper of despair. The vaguest hint of flickering torchlight could be seen through the narrow bars of a cell door, and it was then he realised where he was — the dungeons beneath the castle.

Aiden had been through here briefly, years before, and hadn't harboured any desire to return. He stood and gripped the bars on his cell, peering through the darkness for a glimpse of his surroundings. Sure enough, he was at the end of a long hall with barred cells along each side.

"Hello?" Aiden croaked, his throat parched. After a long moment, a response came from the cell next to his, from a man he couldn't see.

"Welcome, neighbour," a weak voice eventually replied, providing Aiden with a moment of relief — at least he wasn't alone down here. "I thought you'd be out for days, the way those bastards dropped you."

"How long have I been here?" Aiden asked, his voice slowly warming up.

"A few hours maybe? It's 'ard to say," the voice supplied. "Time doesn't seem to make much sense down here."

"Who are you?"

"Someone just like you, I'd wager," the voice grunted. "Someone who pissed off the wrong people. Whatever you did, you must've done a good job at it, 'cause that cell's only for them that threaten the king's life somehow. Is you an assassin?"

"No," Aiden protested, wincing at the volume of his own voice.

"Sure... sure," the voice chuckled. "We're all actually innocent down here, don't y'know?" The sound of harsh, cynical laughter echoed along the dark hallway at this statement. Aiden summoned his latent sorcery and focused his vision, shifting the spectrum of light his eyes could process.

The darkness of the room began to change as Aiden narrowed his focus, until the cell around him was rendered in shades of grey. It was every bit as bleak as he'd expected, but at least it was light enough to see by. As the laughter died down, he saw half a dozen men in each cell, pressed against the bars.

"Well, if I were you, I'd make my peace with God, if you're so inclined, 'cause in a week or so you're going to be taken from that cell and hanged," the voice continued casually. "'Course, you got it easy. Some of us been down here for a couple of years now." Aiden felt a stab of fear at the prospect of being hanged, and wracked his mind trying to understand why this had happened. Kara's betrayal was one thing, but there had to be reasons for her to act. Another thought occurred to him, filling him with more fear than facing the gallows.

"Criosa trusted Kara... she knew just about everything," he said to himself in horror. "I have to get out of here." He rattled the bars with all of his strength, to no avail.

"Oh, there he goes!" his new companion chortled. "I thought he'd last longer before falling to pieces. I owe you my lunch, Jimmy." More cynical laughter ensued as Aiden slumped down against the bars, stricken with a sense of despair at his predicament.

He briefly lamented he never figured out how to use his sorcery to unlock doors, or make himself invisible. The few tricks he'd learned weren't really of any use in this predicament, and he'd never figured out how to pick locks the old fashioned way, like his friend Pacian had once done.

For a long moment, Aiden was filled with a sudden sense of regret over the way their friendship had ended, and he wondered what had become of him after his flight from Highmarch. The laughter from his neighbours died away, leaving him to contemplate the fates of his friends in the terrible silence of the dungeons.

Without the light of the sun, time lost all meaning to Aiden as he languished in prison. At irregular intervals the guards would deliver a bowl of thin gruel and hunk of stale bread to each prisoner, and once they left, the imprisoned men fought for the largest share of the plain food. In this respect, Aiden was lucky to have the cell to himself.

The guards seemed to delight in this sport, watching the savage struggle take place and wagering on the outcome. More than that, they seemed to known who Aiden was and why he was imprisoned, and they taunted him with threats about his imminent demise. On one occasion, a guard Aiden referred to as 'Grimy', in reference to his unshaven, slovenly appearance, held the tray of food through a gap in the bars for Aiden to take. When he reached for it, Grimy dropped the food onto the filthy stone floor.

"Oops, sorry about that," he grunted sarcastically as the other guards laughed. "A real butter-fingers I am." Aiden levelled a blank stare at the man for a long moment, then crouched down and attempted to dust the dirt off the hunk of bread. The porridge was a lost cause, having merged with the floor's own ingredients.

A sudden wave of pain on the back of his head sent him sprawling, and the guard's laughter redoubled. Aiden rubbed the offending area with one hand, and slowly looked back up at his oppressor, who was leaning against the bars with a club in one arm. A metal ring with a dozen keys on it dangled enticingly on his belt, just out of reach.

"That's better than you deserve, you bastard," Grimy snarled. "But you'll get yours, soon enough."

Aiden held back a stinging retort and grasped onto the bar with his free hand, appearing to steady himself. With a whispered word, he reached out with his mind, grasping for the key dangling on the guard's belt. It lifted into the air towards his open palm, but hit the bars with a clang before dropping to the floor.

Grimy looked with astonishment as the keys fell, and shouted an alarm. The other guards witnessed the commotion and hesitated for only a moment before bolting towards Aiden's cell. Within moments they arrived, kicking his arm back into the cell, then charging inside to beat him into unconsciousness.

* * *

Aiden was a mess of bruises and welts when he awoke, and winced at the pain coursing throughout his body. It had been a worthy attempt, but once he revealed just how resourceful he was, the guards kept their distance during the rest of their visits.

His neighbours in the nearby cells were impressed by his display of power, but if anything, this merely spurred them on, for they knew Aiden could not reach them from his cell. They were poor company at the best of times, alternating between silence and hurling derisive taunts as to Aiden's impending destiny with the gallows at all hours of the day and night, a fate befitting a warlock, as a few of them remarked.

The terrible food and lack of sleep began to diminish Aiden's resolve, and it took all his willpower to stay calm and maintain hope. It was entirely possible they would leave him down in this hellhole for years, but considering the possibility of facing death by hanging, Aiden wasn't sure which he'd prefer.

He awoke from a fitful sleep at the sound of keys rattling in his cell door. Bleary-eyed and weak, he looked up as three guards seized him by the arms and dragged him roughly through the door.

"It's your time, mate!" one of the prisoners called as he was hauled past, too exhausted to react. Others banged on the bars and howled in delight as Aiden was taken towards the spectre of Grimy, standing at the dungeon's exit with a black hessian sack in his hands.

"Nighty' night," he grunted as the bag went over Aiden's head, rendering him blind. As his mind awoke, he realised where he was being taken to and began to thrash about in a futile effort to break free. He was slugged in the gut for his troubles, and doubled over as he tried to breathe. Aiden slumped in their arms and was almost carried the rest of the way, unable to summon the strength to invoke any sorcery.

After a few minutes, Aiden heard the muffled murmuring of people and felt the warmth of the air around him. Gone was the rancid stench of the dungeons, replaced by fresh air laden with the strong aroma of flowers. He was dropped to the floor, and his hands were bound by rope before the bag was finally removed from his head.

Aiden squinted at the sudden brightness, unable to make out any details in the intense glare of full daylight. He took a moment to relish the sensation of light and heat upon his face, and the subtle feeling of wind across his unshaven cheeks before a familiar voice began to speak.

"Baron Aiden Wainwright, for your crimes against my rightful rule, I name you as traitor to the Crown," King Seamus muttered, pacing back and forth before a number of onlookers. "To think, I was seriously considering allowing you to marry my daughter. And you, Dame Nellise — I expected better of you."

Aiden looked to his left and his heart sank as he saw Nellise roughly pushed to her knees by two of the king's personal guards. Her wrists were bound and she sported a few minor bruises on her face. She still wore the expensive dress, which was frayed and dirty from whatever place in which she had been held captive. When she noticed Aiden next to her, her façade of strength crumbled.

"Aiden, what have they done to you?" she breathed, taking in his battered appearance with a quick glance.

"They insisted I stay for a while," he whispered through broken lips. "The accommodations were terrible."

"I see a week in the dungeons has not dulled your wit," the king rumbled. "Perhaps other arrangements can be made to relieve you of your faculties."

"With respect, Majesty," the rasping voice of Terinus spoke, "we have a tight schedule which demands our attention. I suggest we get this over with as quickly as possible." Aiden squinted against the brightness and saw the black-robed wizard standing nearby, his features hidden beneath the deep cowl of his hood.

Beside him were the elderly Duke Charles Montague, the king's spymaster Mister Kinsey, and a white-robed priest who seemed familiar to Aiden. Finally, a tall, well-dressed man of advancing years watched the proceedings with sharp eyes. Aiden recognised him as Lord Alwyn, and knew at that moment the Lords had voted against them, despite Alwyn's show of support.

"This man conspired against my rule, and warped the mind of my own daughter to pursue his twisted ends," Seamus growled, levelling an accusing finger at Aiden. The king was always a towering presence, but when enraged he was downright intimidating. "He should be made an example of, so others will think twice before attempting to usurp my rightful rule. What say you, Monty?"

"Treason is a terrible thing," the duke mumbled, his palsied hand shaking as he spoke. He was a shadow of his former self, withered and ancient, and now forced to watch the kingdom he had served his entire life crumble around him.

Aiden had adjusted to the light enough to make out details, and saw that he was kneeling upon a paved surface in the castle's inner gardens. A dozen of the king's personal guards were standing to attention around the garden's edge, their backs against the walls of the castle itself. Behind Seamus and his entourage stood the gallows, its rope noose ready and waiting for Aiden's neck. But it was what he saw of the king was truly disturbing to behold.

Seamus used tgo be robust and barrel-chested, but now he was thin and pale, with red-rimmed eyes from lack of sleep. His ancestor, Alaric Roebec had a similar appearance when he emerged from within the Ironlord armour, and he too had muttered about "usurpers" attempting to steal his rightful place on the throne. The king's appearance and demeanour were not lost on the surrounding people, who seemed to be genuinely cowed at his deranged behaviour. Except for one man.

"It is of course your decision, Majesty," Terinus bowed in response to the king's previous statement, "my concern is simply for the plans you have set in motion. What is the life of one man in the face of the entire realm?" While the king pondered this statement, Aiden spoke up about a more pressing issue.

"Where is Criosa?" he asked in a parched voice. The king snapped his bloodshot eyes onto Aiden.

"She is confined to her room until such time as I find her a suitable husband, preferably one who isn't a damnable traitor," he purred. "It burns me to think of how you twisted her to your own ends. To hear such words coming from her mouth... death is too good for you, sir."

"You truly have lost your mind," Aiden breathed in shock at what he'd just heard. "All Criosa did was attempt to help you—"

"Silence!" Seamus thundered. "I will hear no more of your treason. You are both hereby stripped of your titles and any lands in your name. Nellise Sannemann, I give you over to the tender mercies of the Church, that you might be redeemed. Aiden Wainwright, as you are clearly the instigator of an attempt to seize the throne and place my daughter under some sort of sorcerous control — don't think I haven't heard of your blasphemous little tricks — I see no choice but to sentence you to death by hanging, to be carried out immediately."

Although Aiden had known about his impending death all week, part of him still held out hope of a reprieve. A few of the gathered individuals seemed to be equally surprised at the judgement, but none more so than Nellise.

"You cannot kill him, Majesty," she protested as rough hands grabbed Aiden's shoulders. "He saved our Kingdom!"

"And that is why his betrayal was so painful," the king lamented as Aiden was dragged toward the gallows, his body limp in disbelief.

"Your king is sick!" Nellise called to anyone in earshot. "Why can you not see this? You cannot simply stand by and allow him to—"

A backhanded blow from a guard sent her sprawling to the ground. Aiden could do nothing for her, but as he looked at the faces of the men surrounding the king, he saw no regret or remorse. If they had any thoughts of their own, they kept quiet, allowing the king to go ahead with his insane plans.

Aiden was lifted into place on the wooden platform, affording him an excellent view of the gardens and those watching this macabre show. Stark details became apparent to him as he faced certain death. He could see tears flowing down Nellise's cheeks as she watched on, helpless to stop what was about to happen. The green leaves and colourful flowers of the surrounding gardens seemed vivid, and he even noticed the weave of the rope as it was lowered over his head, curiously interwoven with a fine dark cord.

As he resigned himself to his fate, a sudden bright light appeared next to Aiden, forcing him to avert his sensitive eyes for a moment. When he turned back, he blinked in astonishment at a shimmering doorway which had appeared amidst swirling violet luminescence. When the portal had coalesced into solidity, Desmond stepped through and stood before it, taking in the scene before him with firm resolve.

Moments later, Criosa and another person in a hooded brown robe and carrying a staff, stepped onto the platform. The three guards, momentarily frozen in surprise at the old man's appearance, were unsure what to do about the sudden arrival of their princess.

"Criosa, what on earth are you doing?" Seamus bellowed in outrage. She ignored him and immediately rushed to Aiden's side and began to free his hands from their constraints. Although Criosa was the daughter of their sovereign, the guards had been charged with Aiden's death, and nobody short of the king was going to stop it.

The three men moved to restrain her, but the robed person who had come through the portal with them dashed forward and with practiced expertise, whirled his staff around, slamming it into their ribs and legs until all three were sprawled on their backs.

"We're getting you out of here," Criosa uttered hastily as she worked to unlock Aiden's restraints. A flood of relief swept through him as he understood it was not yet his time to die. Cries of alarm went up from the crowd and the King's Guard hurried forward.

"Seize the intruders, but do not harm my daughter," Seamus ordered. A dozen well-equipped men — loyal soldiers of the king — bore down on the platform with cold efficiency. Desmond reacted by invoking a rippling, transparent sphere which surrounded the platform and separated those upon it from the stunned crowd of onlookers. The guards reached the perimeter of the sphere and came to an abrupt halt, unable to breach it.

"You old fool, you will ruin everything!" Terinus warned Desmond, taking a step forward and raising his staff. A crackle of electricity shot for from the tip and enveloped the sphere, and with a sudden pop, it vanished.

"We need to leave immediately, Highness," Desmond barked in alarm, already preparing another incantation.

"I need more time," Criosa cried as she used a familiar looking vythiric dagger to cut the rope encircling Aiden's neck. A flash of light blinded Aiden for a moment, and a thunderous report echoed across the courtyard as Desmond and Terinus conjured powerful incantations directed at each other.

Sweat beaded on the old wizard's brow as he snapped his hands back and forth, struggling to keep up with his counterpart. A wall of fire erupted across the courtyard, separating the platform from the crowd, only to be doused by a sudden burst of water.

"Finally," Criosa muttered as all of Aiden's restraints were cut, freeing him at last. His heart was pounding rapidly as he watched the two wizards duelling, and he wasn't the only one paying them special attention. The king watched on in cold fury, and although Aiden couldn't hear him, he could see him shouting orders to guards armed with longbows as they poured through the doors into the courtyard.

Just below the platform, their robed ally was making a mockery of the king's elite guard, but a dozen archers lined up and drew back on their bows, preparing to loose a wave of arrows right at them. Desmond invoked the spherical bubble around the platform to protect them once more, but again, Terinus dismissed it with a wave of his staff and a burst of electricity.

"Confound that man!" the Dean blustered as the rescue began to falter.

"Keep trying," Criosa ordered, helping Aiden stand. The archers took aim and just before they shot, Desmond spoke the incantation once more. The arrows flew through the air and bounced off the protective shield, dropping harmlessly to the ground before Terinus dispelled the sphere again.

The black-robed wizard was suddenly struck over the head by Nellise, who had been forgotten in the commotion. Though her wrists were bound, she had clenched both hands together and sent the wizard stumbling, and then ran as fast as her impractical dress would allow her to move, straight for the platform.

"Stop her!" the king yelled as she dashed past. Two of the archers responded quickly to the order, nocking an arrow in their longbows and taking aim. Aiden knew she would never make it, and watched helplessly as they drew down, ready to shoot her from behind. Just as they were about to shoot, Kinsey, who had made an effort to stay out of the fight, suddenly drew his rapier and ran it through one of the archer's arms in such a way as to shift his aim slightly.

The arrow was loosed into his companion's side, throwing off his aim and sending his arrow into the dirt near the cleric's feet. Kinsey then slammed his fist into the side of a third archer's head, dropping him to the ground a sending a wave of chaos through the guardsman's ranks.

"Gather around closely while I teleport us away," Desmond ordered. He plucked out some curious ingredients from a pouch and with the smell of turmeric in the air, began to speak the complicated incantation. Behind them, the sphere of protection suddenly vanished as Terinus regained his footing.

Kinsey was keeping some of the archers occupied with a display of expert swordsmanship. The old spymaster's leg had been injured years ago, leaving him with a severe limp but he didn't let it slow him down. His economy of movement was remarkable to watch, pivoting and spinning on his good leg while he thwarted their efforts to cut him down.

Kinsey held his own until he the king drew his greatsword and cleaved straight through the spymaster's thin blade, cutting through his chest and ending his life in an instant. The remaining archers, no longer impeded, took aim at the platform and shot as a cloud of purple smoke enveloped Aiden and his companions. Just before the view of the courtyard disappeared around them, four arrows suddenly lodged into Desmond's back.

Aiden was torn from Criosa's grasp as they plunged into the Aether, screaming in pain at the sensation of being torn in several directions at once. He caught sight of Desmond's lifeless eyes as the five of them hurtled through the swirling purple mists.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Aiden reached out for Criosa's hand and held onto it with all the strength he could muster. He had used this particular incantation a number of times from the scrolls provided to him by his mentor, and knew they should have arrived at their destination by now. Desmond had died at exactly the wrong time, neglecting to specify an exit, and they were now in danger of being lost forever in the space between worlds.

Criosa reached out a hand and grasped hold of Nellise, who in turn grabbed hold of the robed man's arm. His hood had been thrown back in the turmoil but Aiden only caught a glimpse of white hair fluttering in the mists. He caught hold of Desmond's lifeless hand and together, they hurtled through the swirling mists of the Aether.

They had one small chance of surviving this — although Aiden had never learned the exact details of the incantation, he remembered it from his last reading of the scroll, only a week or so earlier. A brief image of a red-haired sorceress flitted through his mind as he summoned all the reserves he had left, and focused on the words.

The buffeting winds of the Aether pummelled them a few moments longer, and then Aiden felt a sudden change of direction as the forces aligned to his commands. He struggled to hold on to consciousness, for without his direction they would never return to the world.

Aiden spotted a small sliver of daylight somewhere up ahead, and narrowed all of his energies upon it. His heart was beating so fast he thought it would explode out of his chest, but he held on a little longer and within moments, the daylight enveloped them just before he passed out from the strain.

Chapter Four

The droning howl of a dry wind roused Aiden from the blissful darkness of sleep. His eyelids were stuck together, and he was surprised at the effort required to open them. It was a disturbingly familiar sensation, and for one horrid moment, he thought he was back in the castle dungeons once more.

A blast of sand stung his eyes, immediately disabusing him of the notion. The blinding light of the midday sun assaulted his senses, baking his exposed skin with intense heat.

"Easy there, Aiden," a calm, familiar voice instructed him. "Just hold still for a minute. You landed on your head and you're in pretty bad shape." Covering his eyes with one arm, Aiden did as he was told and lay back against the hot ground.

He was famished and in dire need of water, but otherwise alive, in spite of feeling as though he'd been trampled by horses. As his wits returned, he suddenly recalled the events of the past week and the harrowing nature of their escape. Sitting bolt upright, Aiden blinked against the harsh brilliance and took in his surroundings.

A bleak, desolate landscape went on as far as he could see in any direction. The flat ground was covered in fine red sand that cascaded over the shimmering surface, tossed about by the incessant winds. Next to Aiden sat the robed man he had seen during their escape from Fairloch, a small crystal held in his hand and his hooded head lowered in silent prayer. Aiden could feel a slight tingling sensation throughout his body as his wounds were healed, much in the same manner Nellise would have done. Sensing movement, the robed man looked up at Aiden and when they locked eyes, he could hardly believe who he was looking at.

"Pacian?" he croaked in disbelief as the robed man pulled back his hood. The white hair and goatee beard on his old friend's chin had changed his appearance completely, giving him an aged look that belied his youth. But more than that, there was a look of cautious calm in his green eyes that had never been there before.

"Well there's nothing wrong with your eyes," Pacian Savidge remarked in greeting, his focus still on the crystal in his hands.

"What... happened to you?"

"I imagine you have a lot of questions," Pacian murmured absently. "Best to hold them for later, I think. There are more pressing matters to be addressed." With a slight inclination of his head, he directed Aiden's attention to the prone form of Desmond, lying nearby with Criosa and Nellise kneeling before him.

"Desmond," Aiden whispered, crawling across the sand to gaze down at the old wizard's still form. Nellise had removed the arrows from his body and arranged it into a position of peaceful repose, but that did nothing to diminish the sight of Aiden's mentor, killed by the king's personal guard.

"I was the only one to remain conscious after our arrival, such as it was," Pacian confided, standing over Aiden with his white hair whipping about in the wind. "But my efforts to revive him proved to be too little, too late. I'm very sorry."

"I'm amazed you can heal at all," Aiden replied, glancing up at his old friend in disbelief. Nellise also gave him an appraising look, but her face was clear of any emotion. Pacian kept his eyes fixed on Desmond and remained silent.

"I was desperate," Criosa whispered, staring sadly at the dead wizard. "I begged him to help free you, but the cells below the castle are warded against teleportation magic. So, we had to wait until you were brought out to be hanged, and even then, he was reluctant to face off against Terinus."

"He was terrified of the man," Aiden confided, thinking back to the conversation he'd recently had with the old wizard. "Deep down, he must have known how this was going to end."

"And yet he did it anyway," Criosa finished, moving the grey hair from the Desmond's closed eyes with solemn affection. "In the end, he couldn't stand by and allow them to execute you. Courageous to the last."

"We should bury him," Nellise said, and started to dig into the sand with her bare hands. Criosa and Pacian began to help while Aiden slumped to the ground, still reeling from his close brush with death. If it wasn't for Desmond's sacrifice, it would have been Aiden's body they would be burying right now.

Desmond was wearing his usual grey robe, partially covered in grease and the strange, piquant fluids used in the casting of incantations. Protective runes were stitched into the fabric along the ends of the sleeves and inside the lapel, and although they hadn't been enough to keep the wizard alive, Aiden needed every advantage he could get if they were to survive.

He stripped off his own tattered garments and took the wizard's robe for himself. Aiden searched through the voluminous pockets and discovered an old ring and a small, wooden wand. More importantly, Desmond had packed a number of scrolls bearing powerful incantations into a tubular wooden case. Even with all of his considerable power, Desmond had been no match for the king's wizard, who had stripped away all of his protective incantations with a simple gesture.

After a grave of adequate depth had been dug in the sandy ground, they solemnly lowered the body into the earth, and took a few moments to speak well of Desmond before covering their friend and colleague with red sand. It was a moment of stark reality for Aiden, for while he was exhausted and hungry, had regained enough clarity of thought to arrive at an important conclusion.

"I don't know how or when, but someday soon I'm going to return to Fairloch and make Terinus pay for this," he quietly declared. He felt Criosa's hand grasp his own, but that wasn't going to cut it. Aiden embraced her fiercely, and all of the past week's anguish came rushing out of him in a torrent of tears.

"I was so scared for you," Criosa whispered into his ear. "I tried to convince father to release you, but he was livid at our 'betrayal'. I should have seen this coming."

"We underestimated how far gone he is," Aiden said to her while stroking her golden hair and holding her close. "We won't make that mistake again."

"What are you saying?" Criosa asked, pulling back to stare up at Aiden suspiciously.

"Your father has lost his mind," Aiden told her simply. "I don't know if he can be healed, but... I'm sorry to say it, but he might have to die."

"I am not going to help you slay my own father!" Criosa protested, pushing him away.

"He may not give us a choice," Aiden warned. "You weren't at my sentencing — you didn't see how deranged he was."

"It's true, Criosa," Nellise offered. "I begged for mercy, and he offered none. I have never seen your father so addled, and those surrounding him were clearly afraid."

"We will deal with him as required," Criosa stated firmly after a moment's consideration, "but I will do my utmost to help him, do you understand?"

"Pardon my interruption," Pacian interrupted with uncharacteristic politeness, "but we seem to be standing in the middle of a desert for some reason. Perhaps we should calm down and deal with the present."

Criosa nodded and took a deep breath, while Aiden backed down. Aside from Pacian, they were all tired and worn from the last week, and for once in his life, his old friend was a calming influence amidst a storm of emotion. Curiously, Pacian was ignoring Nellise completely, and she seemed conflicted over the appearance of her ex-lover.

"Alright, unless I miss my guess, we've ended up in the Hocarum Desert," Aiden said.

"Why did you bring us here?" Nellise inquired of Criosa.

"This wasn't my idea," she replied. "I instructed Desmond to take us to Lanfall, the capital of Tulsone," Criosa explained. "I wasn't expecting us to end up in a wasteland either."

"When he lost control of the incantation, I did what could to bring us back to the world," Aiden rasped through his dry throat. "I'm not sure what I was thinking, but clearly something about this place appeared in my mind when I took control. It took everything I had just to pull us clear of the maelstrom. God I'm famished — do we have anything to eat or drink?"

"I have a little to drink," Pacian offered, handing a water skin to Aiden, "but I didn't think we would need anything else, so I travelled light." Aiden carefully sipped a mouthful before offering it to Nellise.

"You are in greater need of it than I," she suggested. "I will, however, pray for insight to determine the closest source of water, as we will have need of far more than that soon enough."

"I have your crystal," Pacian mentioned with a slight catch in his voice, producing a small pouch.

"Thank you..." Nellise replied quietly, taking it without looking him in the eye. She turned away from the group and began whispering her prayers. Pacian's eyes lingered on her a moment longer, before he strolled away in contemplation.

"What's he doing here?" Aiden whispered to Criosa when Pacian was out of earshot.

"I asked Kara to gather up reliable allies, but as we discovered, she hadn't been working in our best interests," she confided. "Aside from you, nobody else came to our aid. When Nellise and I emerged from the ladies' room, Nel was taken by the guards immediately, and I was escorted back to be shouted at by my father for a solid hour."

"How is Pace involved with all this?" Aiden pressed.

"He showed up at the inn three days later, after he'd heard Nellise had been taken prisoner," Criosa continued. "To be honest, I never even thought of asking him for help, not after how things had ended at Highmarch. But he's been very helpful, and frankly I don't know where we'd be without him."

"It looks like he made it to that monastery in the Silent Valley," Aiden observed. "Perhaps the monks there managed to turn his life around?"

"You'd have to ask him yourself, for he has refused to speak of it," Criosa shrugged.

"It's odd, you know," Aiden mused after pausing for thought. "We thought Kara was trustworthy and Kinsey was not, but it turned out to be the other way around. A lot happened in those two minutes before we left the site of my execution, and I'm still trying to figure it out. The old spymaster was amongst their inner circle without them guessing his plans, but Kinsey didn't hesitate to sacrifice his life to save us. Another martyr to our cause."

"Too many have died already, Aiden, and it has to stop," Criosa responded. "But we can't do it on our own, which is why I've decided to enlist the aid of King Osric of Tulsone."

"You're what?" Aiden blurted. "Is that where you're planning to take us? He'll have me thrown in the dungeons on sight, and you'll be held hostage while he tries to force your father to surrender."

"Perhaps, but we have little recourse," Criosa answered with little enthusiasm. "We've met a few times in the past, and Osric always seemed rather taken with me. I may be able to convince him to aid our cause, and ending the war is something I'm sure he'll be interested in."

"So long as he's on the winning side," Aiden cautioned, just before he felt a moment of dizziness sweep over him.

"You're exhausted," Criosa stated sympathetically as she helped steady him. "We need to find a place to rest. Nellise, have you had any luck?"

"Faith is not a matter of luck, Highness," Nellise murmured as she opened her golden eyes. "I am told there is water less than a day's travel in that direction." Aiden glanced over his shoulder and saw nothing but the emptiness of the wasteland. Criosa gazed around at the desolate landscape for a moment, before coming to a decision.

"Alright, lead the way. Come on Aiden, let me help you." Aiden accepted her assistance without complaint, leaning heavily on her shoulder as they hobbled through the sands of the Hocarum Desert.

For the first time, he noticed the princess had dressed appropriately for travel in her dark blue leathers and high boots, with a rapier and dagger strapped onto her belt. Fortunately, she hadn't had to use her weapon against her father's own guards, but upon their next return to Fairloch, things may turn out very differently.

Nellise, however, was still wearing the confining dress and fancy shoes she had been wearing upon their first meeting in Fairloch, and found the going extremely difficult. After a while she called for a halt, and took measures to address the problem.

"May I borrow your dagger?" she asked of Criosa, who handed her the vythiric weapon hilt-first. Nellise took it and carefully sliced open the side of her dress, starting at her feet and ending at her thigh. Then she took off both of her shoes and used the pommel of the dagger to smash at the raised heels until they came away.

"I've been wanting to do that since I put the bloody things on, thank you," she muttered, handing the dagger back to Criosa.

"Keep it, you may have need of a weapon out here," the princess advised.

"If it comes to a fight, I don't think an oversized knife is going to be of much use to me," Nellise pointed out. Criosa relented and took the dagger, noticing Pacian was eyeing the weapon with some measure of distress. She said nothing as she sheathed it on her belt again, but Aiden could tell the princess was recalling the lives Pacian had taken with that very weapon.

The sun began its slow descent toward the horizon, and still there was no sign of life in the wastes. Sweat dripped from Aiden's brow as they staggered along, his thirst increasing with each moment, and his legs barely able to support his weight. Strange thoughts drifted through his mind, vivid images of the people he'd killed and the people he'd failed to save. And behind them all stood his father, a taciturn figure with cold eyes judging him for each life lost.

By the time the sun was touching the horizon, Aiden could make out large shapes amongst the shifting sands ahead, and as they moved closer, he could see they were squat, stone buildings. The remains of a low wall were crumbling around them, through which he and his companions made their way.

"An ancient town, lost to the wastes," Nellise whispered as they took in the scene. It seemed like there had been many people living here at some point, but whatever calamity had created the desert, drove them out centuries ago. Now all that remained were the crumbling ruins of their homes, slowly returning to the earth.

Several old buildings were still relatively intact, and it was to one of these that Nellise led them. Gaping holes where windows had once been indicated the place wasn't going to be sealed against the elements, but at least the roof seemed to be intact. Aiden was carefully deposited against the back wall, where he slumped in exhaustion.

"Rest here while I track down the source of the water," Nellise advised as she headed further into the ruins.

"It won't be long now," Criosa assured Aiden as she stroked his hair. He could detect a note of doubt in her voice, and realised she had no idea if Nellise's insight would prove true or not. Their future was most certainly in her hands and her faith.

"Pace," Aiden croaked, lifting a hand to point at his hair.

"Oh this?" Pacian replied, touching his white locks self-consciously. "I suppose this is as good a time as any to answer some questions. You probably want to know what happened to me after the Battle of Highmarch."

"You clearly made it to the monastery run by the Keepers of the Light," Criosa remarked as she held onto Aiden. "I've never seen anyone fight the way you did. How many did you kill?"

"Nobody died by my hand," Pacian assured her in a low voice. "Those men lived, for better or worse. The Keepers do not take lives, Highness."

"This is quite a turn in your life then, isn't it," Criosa pointed out with a cold expression. Pacian cast a haunted look back at her, but said nothing. The wind outside began to pick up, sending a stinging blast of sand across the ruins, but they were almost completely sheltered inside the small domicile. Aiden was content to sit there in the embrace of the woman he loved, while he waited for Nellise's return.

"I can't recall much about the night I left Highmarch," Pacian said after a while. "It's a blur of fear, exhaustion and guilt. I ran as far and as fast as I could, even though a part of me wanted to give in. Why was I running when I wasn't even sure I wanted to keep living? Did I deserve it after all the people I've murdered? I thought I was acting out of a sense of justice at the time, but doubt consumed me.

"Somehow, I kept going," Pacian continued. "The Abbot told me I drew strength from at the possibility of making things right, to undo the damage I had done. Maybe he's right — I don't know. I made it to Bracksford the next day and managed to scavenge some supplies from the inn, enough to get me where I had to go. I didn't know for sure I was being chased, but something told me to keep moving."

"Colt was following you, as was an inquisitor of the Church," Criosa told him delicately.

"Yes, I figured that out later," Pacian nodded. "Oh, and I caught sight of myself in a broken mirror while I was there — my hair had turned white overnight."

"How?" Criosa asked.

"Shock. Apparently, I was so wracked with guilt and pain after I... Sayana..." his voice gave out and he fell silent. The memory lingered still of driving both his daggers into the back of Sayana Arai, the sorceress who had almost singlehandedly destroyed the defence of Highmarch.

"After that, I was never quite the same again," Pacian continued when he had composed himself. "When I arrived at the monastery three days later, I mumbled something about 'sanctuary', and the Abbot took me in without hesitation. Weeks later, he explained that I had the 'right look', which I gathered meant I was obviously at the end of my rope."

"Colt and Mona showed up a few hours after I did, demanding I be released into their custody. Bloody good trackers, those two, to stay on my trail for so long. The Abbot wasn't having any of that, though. Once someone has joined the Keepers, they're granted absolution for their crimes, so long as they serve the order. Colt left empty-handed, and so did that inquisitor when he came knocking."

"So now you're an ascetic with the Keepers, and this is supposed to be an adequate punishment for your crimes?" Criosa asked caustically.

"They're not about punishment, as you think of it," Pacian responded, keeping his calm. "Do you know why they're called the Keepers of the Light? In a world with war, murder, rape and torture, the Keepers exist to remind people that humanity is still capable of kindness, generosity, forgiveness, and above all, the chance for redemption. We keep the light of hope burning when everything around us is falling to chaos and destruction."

"But it's no picnic, Highness. The day after I arrived, they had me training from dawn 'til dusk. I've never enjoyed exercise, and their training methods are downright brutal. Perhaps you might take comfort in the fact that I suffered for months on end, fighting duels with my brothers and sisters until I collapsed. It's a hard, thankless existence."

"Actually, yes, that does help a bit," Criosa answered cynically. "What are you planning to do about Nellise? I assume you came to our aid because you still harbour feelings for her, but you should know they won't be reciprocated, and your order doesn't permit relationships, if I recall correctly." Pacian appeared pensive for a long moment before answering.

"I came to your aid for old time's sake, and at the Abbot's request," he finally answered. "He seemed to think it was an opportunity to work towards my redemption. I hadn't planned to stay with you after the escape, but Aiden seems to have stranded us in the middle of a desert, so you'll excuse me if I don't wander off. As for Nellise—"

He was about to speak further when the cleric returned, carrying an old bucket and a filled water skin. The ascetic turned away self-consciously, unable to face his former love. Aiden, however, brightened immediately at the sight of the water sloshing about in the bucket, and Criosa helped him sit upright as the cleric handed him the water skin.

"Easy, easy," she advised as Aiden drank his fill. There was a dusty quality to it, but it was still the best water he'd ever tasted.

"There is an old well in the centre of town," she explained as he drank. "It still produces water, thankfully, although it seems to me it's been repaired in the not-too-distant past. I suspect people come through here now and then to make use of it, so we should remain wary." The light began to fade from the sky as the sun sank below the horizon, so Nellise whispered a quick prayer and light sprang forth from Pacian's staff.

The small stone house would be enough shelter for the night, but their lack of food was soon to become a pressing issue. The temperature was rapidly plummeting as well, creating further problems for their survival.

"Did you see anything we could use to make a fire?" Criosa asked of Nellise.

"I wasn't really paying attention," she admitted. "There may be some rotten wood out there for all I know."

"My turn to look," Pacian declared, taking the illuminated staff and heading through the doorway. Nellise didn't object, and even seemed to relax once he'd left the house. As he passed by, Aiden caught a glimpse of something colourful upon the walls. Curious, he concentrated and summoned his own arcane light, placing it upon the ceiling of the house. He became slightly dizzy from the effort, but it was worth it. The ladies saw what had engaged his attention, and stared at what appeared to be pictures painted on the walls.

These were not simple sketches, but detailed, elaborate artworks depicting vast mountain ranges, wide green fields and scenes of simple village life. The images seemed to have been made by rubbing coloured rocks against the stone walls. Each wall was decorated with its own vista, and although Aiden was far from an expert on art, they all seemed to be painted by the same hand.

"Whoever they were, the people who lived here were accomplished artists," Criosa remarked quietly. "I hope they didn't perish when this land was laid to waste."

"The colours are so vivid, even after all this time," Nellise added, walking up to one and examining it closely. "In fact, there is no sign of fading at all. And these images... how would people from an inland place such as this know of the sea?"

Aiden turned around to look at the painting she was referring to, and sure enough, a roughly-drawn picture of the deep blue sea crashing against the side of a large ship stood out against the orange-grey stone of the wall. Despite his hunger and fatigue, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he suddenly realised, they were looking upon familiar scenes — a journey at sea aboard a large vessel, a mountain range covered in wild weather, and a small town in the rain.

"That painting bears a strong resemblance to Bracksford, back when we first met," Aiden exclaimed. "I can't quite make out the ship in this one, but it could easily be the Redoubtable simply due to its shape. This... these are places we have all been in the last few years. How can this be?" At that moment, Pacian came rushing back into the ruined house with a look of bewilderment upon his face.

"You've seen them too, I take it," he remarked. "There are more paintings in a few of the other buildings. It's like somebody knows where we've been and splashed it up on the wall."

Aiden was struck with a sudden feeling they were being watched, and slowly turned around to look at the entrance to the ruined house. Standing amidst the stinging sands was a feminine figure wrapped in cloth strips from head to toe, with a mess of wild, flowing red hair blowing in the wind. Green eyes narrowed against the elements glared at them from over a piece of cloth tied over her face, and she carried the carcass of a large animal over one shoulder.

When she pulled down the cloth covering her face, Aiden had already figured out who it was. As a group, they stared in astonishment for a long, tense moment as Sayana Arai took in the scene.

"You shouldn't have come looking for me," she hissed as she dropped the carcass onto the ground and drew a gleaming dagger from her belt.

Chapter Five

"H-how can you be alive?" Pacian stammered to the wild sorceress, as she stood at the doorway clutching her weapon.

"After you stabbed me?" she snapped, holding one of the daggers Pacian had used to do the deed in one hand. Her red hair had grown long, reaching halfway down her back. It occurred to Aiden that Pacian would have had no idea Sayana had survived, and lived with the guilt of her assumed death all this time. Without waiting for an answer, she knelt down and began to butcher the remains of what appeared to be a wild dog.

Criosa cringed at the sight, but Pacian didn't seem to notice or care. He stared at the woman he thought he'd killed years ago as if she were a ghost.

"We didn't know you were here, Sy," Aiden said as she worked. "I had no idea what happened to you after Highmarch."

"You expect me to believe you arrived here purely by coincidence?" Sayana retorted while she expertly sliced up the carcass. Aiden was morbidly fascinated by the process, before he gathered his thoughts enough to speak further.

"I have no expectations of you whatsoever. Frankly, I'm simply pleased to still be drawing breath at this point."

"Wait, you knew she was still alive?" Pacian asked Aiden, who nodded in reply.

"You'd already left the fort when I found out," he explained. "Her injuries had been regenerating for most of the fight. We haven't had the chance to properly catch up yet." Sayana stopped her work to look curiously at Aiden. Her eyes seemed to take in his rough appearance, and that of his companions. They were a dishevelled bunch, woefully underequipped for their surroundings, and this more than anything else seemed to convince Sayana of their story.

"I can't believe you made it through the desert with no supplies," she remarked in a quiet voice. "How and why are you here?"

Criosa explained the events leading up to their arrival, while Aiden laid back to conserve his remaining strength. The temperature continued to drop as the heat of the day gave way to the chill of a desert night, and he began to shiver. Sayana continued cutting up the meat while she listened, hardly reacting at all to the remarkable events Criosa related. Only when the princess had finished did the sorceress speak up.

"Move back," she instructed. Everyone shifted away from her, uncertain as to what she wanted from them. Sayana extended her palms and placed them upon a large, flat stone. A sudden wave of heat washed over them as flames erupted from her hands, focused upon the stone they were pressed against. She maintained the intense flame for a minute or so, and when she pulled her hands away, the rock was glowing red with heat.

Aiden and the others moved in closer to the warmth, while Sayana threw slabs of meat upon the surface. They immediately began to sizzle, and Aiden's mouth watered at the aroma.

"This kill was supposed to last me for a few days, but you can eat your fill if you wish," Sayana offered.

"Although I'm very hungry and I'm definitely going to eat," Criosa said delicately, "I was wondering — what kind of animal is that?"

"Do you really want to know?" Sayana asked with a level stare.

"I suppose not," the princess muttered, resigned to indulging in the mystery meat. They sat in silence, enjoying the warmth and the smell until the meal was ready. Whatever the animal was, it smelled good enough to eat and after a week of poor food, Aiden found it very satisfying, if a little gamey. He went through three steaks before his belly was full, and finally settled back to relax in front of the heated rock.

"I have so many questions," he began, gazing sleepily at Sayana.

"You need rest," she whispered in reply, and although he knew she was avoiding the conversation, he couldn't deny the truth in her words. Criosa snuggled up against his side as he gazed through one of the windows, taking in the clear starry night and relishing the feeling of freedom. The last thing he remembered before falling asleep was Sayana's eyes glittering at him in the darkness.

* * *

A series of terrible images assaulted Aiden in his dreams, a mixture of dark stone halls and the ghosts of the people he had sent to their deaths on the front lines. He felt trapped, chained to a hot surface as his skin began to burn from some horrible torture when he awoke to the sounds of sizzling meat on a heated rock.

"Are you okay?" Criosa asked as he gasped for breath and glanced around at the ruined house.

"Yes, just... never mind," he mumbled. Pacian crouched before the rock, reheating their breakfast of leftover steak from the previous night. The bucket of water was full, so Aiden drank while he pushed away the terrible dreams. It was early, and although cold, the heat would soon increase as the sun travelled higher in the sky. Peering through a window, he saw Nellise and Sayana slowly walking toward the house, talking between themselves.

"I still can't believe we ran into you, out here, of all places," Nellise remarked. "It's almost as though we were destined to meet."

"You used a teleport incantation," Sayana stated as they came through the door.

"We're miles away from the original destination," Nellise explained.

"But you were in control of it, towards the end," Sayana pressed, looking directly at Aiden. "You chose this destination, whether you were aware of it or not."

"I didn't know you were here," he reminded her. "Nellise brought us to this place in search of water, and good morning, by the way."

"The only water for fifty miles," Sayana pointed out, ignoring his greeting. "Hardly a coincidence. Anyone travelling through this region would have sought out this well. I meet people coming through every week or two on their way to and from Trinity, and more than once, a group of soldiers from one side or the other stumbles through, desperate for water."

"They probably don't appear out of thin air, though," Aiden remarked dryly. "Why are you living out here, anyway? The last I saw, you were with Robert Black, heading to help secure and rebuild Trinity." Sayana hesitated, as if reluctant to answer.

"He's gone," she said curtly, before turning and quickly leaving the house. Nellise gave an exasperated sigh, but held up her hand to stall anyone following the sorceress.

"Leave her be," the cleric explained. "What little I could glean from her suggests her experience at Highmarch has scarred her deeply."

"They weren't her actions," Aiden pointed out. "It's not her fault she was taken over by the Ironlord."

"No, but try telling her that."

"Enough," Pacian interrupted. "She is where she wants to be. She wants to live in a desert? That's her choice. We didn't come here to recruit her, or save her — we're here by accident. We should be thinking about our next move, that is, if you're still planning to overthrow the king."

"I thought you would have been concerned about her, given you're the one who—" Aiden began, but was interrupted with a glare from the ascetic.

"Don't say it," Pacian warned in a dangerous voice. "I'm glad she's alive, more than you can know. But we all walk the paths of our choosing, and she has chosen isolation. So be it. Let's move on."

Aiden considered his statement for a moment, then shook his head and walked through the door. The sunlight was far more intense out here and he squinted against the brightness, searching for signs of the wayward sorceress. He moved amongst the ruined, deserted buildings for a few minutes, unable to find a trace of her until he recalled she could turn invisible at a whim.

Focusing his vision, he shifted his sight until the world around him appeared in shades of dark blue, and crouched nearby one of the buildings was the orange silhouette of Sayana with her head buried in her arms.

"You should know you can't hide from me," Aiden casually said as he walked towards her. "If you want to be alone, just say so, but for old time's sake, I'd like to talk a little."

"Speak," Sayana stated coldly, still maintaining her invisibility despite his presence. Aiden sighed, then slowly sat down next to her, leaning his back against the old building.

"It's good to see you again, figuratively speaking, of course." Aiden began simply. "We would have starved out here without your help, but I'm glad you're alive. You deserve better than the life you've had so far. So do all of us, really." Sayana remained silent, visible only to his enhanced vision, but she didn't walk away either.

"I was thinking a little about how we arrived here," Aiden continued. "When we were travelling through the aether and all seemed lost, I remember thinking — just for a moment — that I wish you were there to help, because I didn't think I was strong enough to bring us back to the world. Maybe that's what brought us to your general vicinity? I don't know, I haven't had a chance to study magic enough lately. Desmond would know."

"I am sorry he died," Sayana whispered.

"It wasn't your fault," Aiden assured her gently. "Neither were the events at Highmarch. You weren't the one in control."

"But I saw and felt everything," she hissed. "You have no idea what it's like to have your own body taken over, used to kill, and be forced to watch, feeling every blow and every cut."

"I'm not pretending to understand what you went through, but I can tell you right now, we're all sick of the killing," Aiden answered without emotion. "I have nightmares about the ongoing war, and even Pacian of all people has sworn a vow against taking life. Nellise and Criosa never liked it, and part of the reason we've ended up out here is because we tried to end it peacefully. There are people at work behind the scenes who want this war to go on, and the only way to stop them is to keep fighting."

"You sound like you're trying to recruit me."

"Well, I hadn't intended to," Aiden mused. "I was just thinking aloud, mostly. After what you've been through, I don't blame you for wanting to hide away from everything. If the Holy Inquisitors found out you were still alive, they'd certainly be hunting you down. And this place isn't without its charm," he added, looking around at the deserted town. "It's got... water and uh... shelter. And you'll never want for sand again. But if you don't want us bothering you any further, just say so and we'll be on our way."

"I don't want any of you here, Aiden, because I do not trust myself!" Sayana suddenly shouted, dismissing her invisibility as she stood before him. "Do you understand? I am not a person, but a weapon, with one purpose. You should all leave here in case I kill you by accident."

"Sayana," Aiden said quietly as a terrible thought occurred to him, "what happened to Robert?" She gave him an uncertain glance and then allowed her mane of red hair to conceal her features.

"He was alive, the last time I saw him," she whispered.

"When was that?" Aiden asked softly, barely concealing his relief.

"Perhaps three seasons ago? We were together for a little over a year before things began to change between us. After Trinity was rebuilt, we came here to minimise my contact with the world, something he was supportive of at first. After a few weeks, he became restless and yearned to work, whereas I wanted to retreat from the world. I find it hard to be around people now, after..."

"Yes, you mentioned that," Aiden said. "Go on."

"He didn't want to live the rest of his life hiding in some deserted old town, and urged me to give life another try. I couldn't do it."

"So, he left you here on your own," Aiden finished, drawing a faint nod from Sayana.

"I can't say I blame him," she muttered. "I'm dangerous to be around. Deep down I know that's why he left, and that's why you should leave, too."

"To leave you here and finish your art collection?" Aiden said with a wry grin, trying to lighten the mood.

"I use it to remind me of better times," she confided, the ghost of a smile peering out from behind the tangled mess of hair.

"It's very good," Aiden remarked. "You could make some money back in civilisation."

"I've had time to practice. It helps clear my mind."

"At least you've learned to use your power for something other than destruction," Aiden pointed out.

"I made that art my hands, not my power," Sayana retorted, flaring up once more. "I've hardly used sorcery since the battle, and I have no intention of unleashing it ever again, assuming I have a say in the matter."

"Look, the Ironlord isn't a threat to you anymore. Well, at the moment it isn't anyway," Aiden conceded. "It's a long story, but there was a man inside of it, wearing it like armour, and he's the one who controlled you. He's dead now."

"Robert told me," Sayana replied.

"Right, and the point is, nobody is going to take control of you again," Aiden pressed.

"You can't know that for certain."

"I think I can, actually," Aiden responded. "I studied all of this in the Lexicon after the fight, so I'll show..." his voice trailed off as he came to a sudden realisation. "I had it on me when I was captured," he breathed in horror. "They have it. He has it!"

"Who has?" Sayana asked, picking up on his distress.

"Terinus, and King Seamus," Aiden explained as he quickly stood. "With the knowledge of the Lexicon available to them, they'll be able to unlock all of the Ironlord's secrets, sooner or later. It's more important than ever we get back to Fairloch. Sy, I know you're in a bad place right now but—"

"No, I won't be coming with you," Sayana interrupted. "You're planning to take on the Ironlord again, and you know I can't risk going anywhere near it, regardless of who is inside. And frankly, the sooner you leave, the safer you'll be."

"I can't just leave you here like this," Aiden sighed, seeing where this conversation was heading.

"It's the only choice I have," she whispered in a heartbreaking voice. "While I have these markings of power, I'm dangerous, so here I will stay where nobody else will get hurt."

"Maybe Pacian is right," Aiden mused after a moment's thought. "Ultimately, it's your choice how you choose to live your life. But if I can get the Lexicon back, we might be able to find a way to remove them."

"Don't say that just to get me to join you," she growled, her green eyes glinting.

"I'm serious," Aiden insisted. "I never finished the research on how those markings work, and with some more study, we might be able to find something about removing them." Sayana seemed to consider this for a long moment, her hair whipping about in the wind blowing through the ruins.

"I need to think about this," she eventually said. "This isn't a decision I can make lightly."

"We'll respect whatever you choose to do," Aiden replied. "I'm going to get the others ready to move, but we'll need supplies. How far are we from civilisation, anyway?"

"Robert told me this place is technically within the borders of Tulsone," Sayana explained. "But their closest outpost is two days journey through the desert. The war goes quiet during the warmer months, as neither side endures the heat especially well. I have a few water skins you can use, and some emergency rations, but how desperate are you to go? You might consider waiting for sunset and travelling during the night."

"The sooner we start, the better," Aiden answered. "Thanks for all your help, just don't let us leave without talking to us again." She nodded briefly in reply, then turned and headed further into the old town to retrieve the supplies. Aiden watched her go, lamenting the changes they had all gone through over the past two years, before he headed back to join the others.
Upon his return, Aiden was greeted by the sight of Pacian and Nellise talking quietly to each other. Their discussion ceased as soon as he stepped through the doorway, with both of them seemingly self-conscious. Criosa was absent.

"I take it this is a good sign?" Aiden inquired.

"I didn't relish the prospect of travelling together in hurt silence," Nellise explained. "We have decided to put aside our past issues, and work together as mature adults."

"As I've said, I never intended to stay with you," Pacian added. "I will make my way back to the monastery once I have seen you safely to Lanfall."

"We won't be staying there long," Aiden cautioned as he picked up his meagre possessions. "Once we have support from the king, we're heading straight for Fairloch."

"Look, I don't want to overstay my welcome," the ascetic hedged. "This is as difficult for me as it is for you, believe me. Sayana can't be too thrilled at seeing me again — how is she, anyway?"

"Better than I thought, worse than I'd hoped," Aiden replied. "She's considering joining us on our little quest, though she has no desire to shed blood."

"A sentiment we all share," Nellise added ruefully. "But you can't expect her to face the Ironlord once more."

"Don't worry, I have an idea," Aiden assured them. "We need Sy to deal with Terinus, and if I'm right, he'll have the relic staff he used to open the hatch on its back. We'll take it, and use it to quickly disable the Ironlord."

"So that's your plan?" Criosa said as she came in through the door. "It would have been nice of you to share."

"I put it together only a few minutes ago," Aiden confessed. "Why risk a direct confrontation, when we can simply use the staff to render it vulnerable? Especially since we have only a fraction of the power needed to stop it this time — no magic swords, dragon spirits or ancient relics. The real problem here is Terinus, but we'll deal with that when the time comes. Right now, we need to make our way to Lanfall. It's a long journey but... wait a moment."

Aiden snapped open the scroll case and leafed through the parchments within. With a smile of triumph, he pulled out a familiar incantation which would reduce the journey considerably.

"I knew Desmond wouldn't have left without a spare copy," he said. "We can simply teleport straight to the capital from here, and avoid running into any soldiers from either side."

"Have you ever been there before?" Criosa asked, pointing out a flaw in his plan. Aiden stifled a frustrated curse, drawing a raised eyebrow from Nellise.

"I'm missing something," she mumbled curiously.

"When using this incantation, typically one must hold the image of the destination in one's mind," Criosa explained. "Desmond was taking us to an associate in Lanfall, using a personal sigil as a guide. If you've never been there before, it's extremely dangerous to attempt it blind."

"Can you do it?" Aiden asked, drawing a disappointed shake of her head.

"I've been to Lanfall twice before, when I was very young," Criosa said with a shake of her head. "Old memories of places which have since changed with time are just as risky. If I had an something recently from Lanfall, like a tree branch or a piece of clothing, I might be able to use it to guide us."

"So, we're walking," Pacian surmised.

"Seems like it," Aiden growled, then heard something heavy drop to the ground. Turning to look, they saw Sayana standing in the doorway with a leather pack at her feet, stuffed full of dried rations and water skins.

"The summer heat can be very intense, so I suggest you drink your fill from the well before we set out," she advised curtly.

"You're coming with us?" Criosa remarked with something akin to surprise.

"It has been my fondest desire for these last two years to have my powers removed, that I might live a normal life," the sorceress explained in a heavy voice. "Aiden has promised to help me realize this dream, and however slim the chance, I must investigate the possibilities. To that end, I'm coming with you, but know this — I will not kill unless forced to do so. Do not rely upon me to vanquish entire armies for you, or you might find yourselves fatally disappointed."

"Duly noted," Aiden replied gruffly. He glanced at Criosa, who watched the others get ready with an odd expression on her features.

"Is there something wrong?" Aiden asked her quietly.

"Years and miles later, here we are, together again," Criosa remarked with a wistful smile. "I've missed you all more than I can care to admit." Before anyone could speak, she rushed forward and brought them all together in a group hug that none of them were comfortable with, for their own reasons. But it wasn't about them, Aiden realized — Criosa needed this more than she'd ever say.

"You done now?" Aiden asked with a wry grin as they separated once more.

"Yes, but that may happen again sometime in the future," she warned, straightening out her tunic. "I can't make any guarantees." Sayana cleared her throat self-consciously and handed out large pieces of brown cloth.

"Wrap these around your head to protect you from the sun," she explained awkwardly, still recovering from the first positive human contact she'd experienced in a long time.

"Sy, earlier you mentioned this is summer," Nellise said as she began wrapping the cloth "I think you might be a little confused — it is the middle of spring, at the latest."

"It's early summer," Sayana insisted.

"Surely it is difficult keeping track of the seasons in a place like this," Criosa remarked, glancing around at the burned landscape.

"I can tell the turning of the seasons by the length of the day and the night," Sayana explained. "It is early summer."

"But it was definitely spring when we left Fairloch," the princess said with an uncertain glance at Aiden.

"Time works differently in the aether," Aiden stated, recalling his previous visits. "I've never heard of so much time passing in a single journey, but given the nature of our experience... is it possible we were in the aether for two months?" Nobody spoke as they processed this startling thought.

"If that's true," Criosa said slowly, "anything could have happened while we were gone."

"We won't find answers standing around here," Pacian advised. "Less talking, more walking."

"Well put," Aiden muttered, wrapping his head in cloth and stepping outside into the powerful sun. "Which way is it, Sy?" The sorceress pointed off into the distance, and with that simple gesture, they left the confines of the ruins and headed out into the wasteland.

* * *

It was well past noon when they finally stopped for a rest in the shadow of a rock formation rising from the flat plane of the Hocarum Desert. Unused to such heat, Aiden was bathed in sweat. Criosa and Nellise were flaked out in the shade, somewhat overcome, but if Pacian was feeling the effects, he didn't show it.

Aiden didn't have a lot of energy for thinking, but even he had noticed the change in his old friend. Gone was the fidgeting, brash young man who was always looking for trouble. Instead, the implacable calm of the ascetic was almost disconcerting. What he'd gone through at the monastery must have been as profound as it was punishing.

Sayana was equally at home in the sweltering conditions, having removed layers of cloth from her body during the journey, as required.

"There is a place, not far from here where we can rest for the night," she advised as she drank from a water skin.

"Can't we stay here?" Criosa breathed, uncomfortable in the dark leathers she wore. "I'm practically done in."

"It's only a little further," Sayana replied unsympathetically. "We don't want to be caught outside without shelter after the sun has set."

"You should probably take off some of that armour," Aiden suggested, purely for practical reasons of course. She nodded wearily and with his help, took off the leggings and tossed them aside. Prepared for travel once more, they set out as the sun began its slow descent through the skies.

The sandy ground underfoot began to give way to more dry terrain as they continued, and there was even the occasional hardy shrub attempting to grow in barren wastes. But of greater interest to Aiden was the huge mound of rock they appeared to be heading toward. Far from being a loose collection of stone, this rock seemed to be almost spherical in nature, and as they closed in, Aiden was somewhat alarmed to notice it had been carved into the shape of a human skull.

"What in God's name is that?" Nellise breathed as they looked up at the huge stone skull, easily fifty feet in height and just as wide. It glared over the surrounding desert with sightless eye sockets, and the entrance to a small cave of sorts was evident in its mouth.

"This used to be the home of the death cult we fought in Fairloch," Sayana explained. "I think you might remember them."

"All too well," Aiden muttered, recalling the deadly assassins and their cultist allies Aiden. "You've never seen any of them here, I take it?"

"It's deserted," the sorceress said evenly. "Come, this is our shelter for the night." Without waiting for word, she headed towards the gaping maw of the grotesque rock. The rest followed her reluctantly, and Aiden couldn't help but avert his gaze as he passed inside. The interior wasn't what he had expected, for a stairwell was cut into the earth and simple bedrolls were dotted around the place. Criosa slumped onto one of the bedrolls as soon as she entered, but Nellise had other ideas.

"This place carries the same stench the cultists did," she muttered, glaring around at their accommodations. "If people come through here and use this as shelter, they carry away with them the taint of evil. I'm going to cleanse this chamber before I rest." While she set about her task, Sayana nudged a very tired Aiden towards the stairs.

"You should see this," she whispered. His curiosity getting the better of him, Aiden carefully descended the narrow stairs into another, larger chamber carved into the rock. Sayana opened her palm and a small plume of flame sprang to life, shedding its light over the walls of the room. Hanging from the ceiling in a macabre fashion were a number of skeletons, encrusted with grime from the ages, but arrayed in a circular fashion around the edge of the room.

"I really don't think I needed to see this," Aiden drawled as he looked at the curious decorations of the death cultists.

"Look closer," urged Sayana, who kept close to his side. Reluctantly, Aiden moved in to examine the closest skeleton and noticed some disturbing discrepancies. He had thought they were human, but the bone structure was strangely elongated and featured an extra joint on the legs, which more closely resembled that of a horse or goat. But of even greater importance were the skulls, which featured four eye sockets instead of two, where the brow would normally be.

"What are these things?" Aiden muttered, glancing around at the gruesome display. Sayana didn't answer him, but after a moment's thought, he recalled something he'd seen once before. "Wait... I've seen a skeleton like this, in the complex where Alain DuFort had become stranded. He'd found that relic gauntlet on the hands of one of these things."

"Then it is likely we are looking at the remains of the people who created those arcane relics," Sayana surmised. "They may have been buried here, discovered by the cult, and paraded around as trophies or totems for their dark rituals. I have often considered the implications of this, but my knowledge is far too limited."

"I don't have any answers either," Aiden whispered, "and now is hardly the time for such distractions. I'll make a mental note to come back here once we've dealt with everything else." Intrigued but too tired to investigate further, they headed back upstairs to rest for the evening.

The next day, their journey continued through the wastes. Their supplies were beginning to diminish, but should be sufficient to reach the nearest small town. A cool breeze stirred the air, coming in from the north to provide a measure of relief for the weary travellers, and with their strides bolstered by this, they made good progress throughout the day. More and more green broke up the dry land of the desert, and a mountain range was visible on the horizon.

It was mid-afternoon when they crested a rise and looked down upon a small fort nestled at the base of two hills. A flag emblazoned with the winged griffon of Tulsone flew high over its battlements. At this distance, it was difficult to make out details, but there was definitely a great deal of movement happening down on the dusty plain. More ominously than that, a pillar of smoke rose from the fort itself.

"I was about to express my relief at finally reaching civilisation," Nellise said dryly, "but we seem to have stumbled into the war once again."

"The fort's walls appear to have been destroyed, and men on horseback are raiding the compound," Sayana observed as she squinted against the sunlight. Although Aiden was listening, his gaze was fixed upon the flag of the Aielish force, whipping about in the breeze. When he finally caught a good look at it, his heart sank.

"Those are Lord Carbrey's forces," he announced grimly. "They were under my command, and are probably still carrying out my last order — to raze that outpost. We are going to have to face them if we want Tulsone's help." They stood in silence, looking down onto the battlefield as the smoke rose higher into the sky.

Chapter Six

The raid against the outpost continued without respite for over an hour, while Aiden and his companions lay flat against the ground, watching from a distance. Sayana was able to make out most of what was happening, and none of it was good. Again, and again the Aielish force, consisting of equal parts archers and light cavalry, clashed against the Tulsonite defenders who attempted to hold the fort against their attack.

Men fell on both sides of the conflict, struck down by arrows, bolts or other brutal weapons of war. Aiden cringed at the distant sounds of the fight, wishing they could be spared the bloody spectacle unfolding before them. This outpost was the only way to enter Tulsone for nearly a hundred miles in any direction, and they could only wait and hope the fight would soon end.

Only as the sun finally began to sink below the horizon did the assailants call off the assault, and pull back to the southwest, leaving the small fort standing for another day.

"This is our chance," Aiden advised, dusting off his old robe as he stood. "Only Criosa is going to be recognised on sight, so we're simply her entourage, okay? Don't mention my name at all or we're going to be in trouble."

As one they agreed, and began making their way down the hill with the dry, cracked earth crunching beneath their feet.

It was over half a mile to the outpost, during which time the light continued to fade from the sky. Only the flickering of fires at the fort illuminated their way, until Nellise whispered a quick prayer and touched the end of Pacian's staff, which immediately began to shed a soft light over them. It wasn't just to allow them to see their way — approaching the gate of their enemies while fully lit would go some way to convince them of their honourable intentions.

The fort itself was really more of a gate, with a squat tower rising above the earth. Burnt slabs of wood had been thrown into the gap where the massive gate had been shattered in an earlier attack, and Aiden realised the only thing between the Aielish forces storming through had been the soldiers, who had paid a heavy price for their bravery.

Shouts of alarm came from the wall as their small group approached, and within moments a dozen crossbows were trained on their position. Aiden and the others came to a halt when Criosa raised her hand, then stepped forward and looked up at the battlements without any sign of fear. A commanding voice challenged her from the darkness in Tuscara, the Tulsonite language, and she responded in the same flowing tongue.

"You speak our language well, dear lady," the commander spoke in near-perfect Aielish, "but your accent betrays your origins. How is it you come to be travelling through the desert?"

"Dire circumstances forced us to undertake a journey we were unprepared for," Criosa responded. "To whom am I speaking?"

"I am Captain Sir Gaston Favre of the Fifth Chevalier Regiment, serving his Tulsonic Majesty King Osric Davignon," the officer stated.

"Captain, my entourage and I are in need of food and rest, and passage through the gate you hold. Are you willing and able to assist us?"

"Only a fool would permit a foreign noble entry into one's country during wartime without careful scrutiny," the captain retorted. "I am no fool, my lady. I am, however, a gentleman, and honour-bound to assist women in need. I will permit you entry on the condition you do not try to leave without my consent. Your word is your bond, my lady."

"I give it," Criosa replied.

With a single spoken word, the crossbows were lowered and the detritus blocking the gate was pulled aside to allow them to pass. Criosa stepped through the gap, with Aiden following closely in case these men weren't as honourable as they seemed. He kept the hood of his robe low as he walked — he didn't believe he would be recognised on sight, but he didn't want to take the risk.

The fires within the gate had been smothered, and a cloud of steam and smoke obscured much of the camp beyond a few yards. What Aiden could see, however, was a stark reminder of the war. Dozens of bodies lay on the ground, some being tended to by women in white robes, others covered in sheets of bloodied cloth, never to awaken.

"They are the Sœurs de Clémence, the Sisters of Clemency," Criosa whispered to Aiden as he looked down at the unmoving bodies of men he had once considered the enemy.

"Healers, much like our own Resolute Heralds?" Aiden asked, distracted by the scene before him.

"Similar, but the order is only open to women," Nellise added. "With your leave, I will offer them aid."

"Of course," Criosa agreed absently. It was an odd sight, watching the beautiful cleric, clad in a dress fit for an evening with nobility crouching amongst the wounded and the robed sisters to provide aid and comfort.

"Welcome to Le Bastion, ladies and gentlemen," Sir Gaston remarked as he approached. "I see your company is not all they appear to be." The knight was clad in heavy iron armour emblazoned with the heraldic device of a griffin holding two swords. His hair was close-cropped and grey, and his sharp features were marred by a number of scars across his nose and cheek. Tired grey eyes watched carefully while he smoked a thin cigar.

"I have assembled people of diverse talents for our journey," Criosa explained, covering herself well.

"Prudent, though you might have gathered proper equipment for them as well. It speaks of a departure made in haste. For what reason, I can only speculate. May I know your name?"

"I would prefer to keep that to myself," Criosa hedged.

"Secretive also, it would seem," the captain mused. "It is difficult to trust one who cannot even reveal her name." The snort of a nearby horse drew Aiden's attention away from the man, and as the smoke in the compound continued to clear, he saw eight heavy war horses, massive beasts clad in iron barding. Their riders, moustached men wearing the heaviest armour Aiden had ever seen, were resting after a day of fighting.

"The legendary chevaliers of Tulsone," he remarked with respect. "I have heard of their exploits before, but never seen them up close."

"This is quite the honour for you, no?" Sir Gaston replied with dry humour. "You appear to be dressed in the robes of a master of the arcane arts. Do not deny it, sir, for we have many of our own in the country."

"Less of a wizard, more of a scholar," Aiden corrected. He didn't want the knight to have any inflated expectations of his power.

"Such curious company you keep. A cleric of Blessed Kylaris dressed as a noblewoman, a dishevelled scholar who hasn't bathed in weeks, and another robed priest of some sort..." the captain's demeanour darkened as he looked at Pacian. He returned the captian's look with an unflinching gaze, as if expecting something unpleasant. "The Keepers of the Light are not typically welcome within our borders," Sir Gaston growled in a dangerous voice at the ascetic.

"Our requests to build a monastery within your country have been repeatedly rebuffed," Pacian corrected. "The Keepers may walk freely through your lands, as you well know."

"You recognised him on sight?" Criosa asked.

"The robe is unique to their order, but more than that, I see a hardness to your eyes that priests typically lack. I repeat my objection to your presence."

"Why would you object to an order dedicated to peace?" Aiden inquired curiously.

"Because it is populated by murderers and thieves who have escaped justice," the captain clarified. "What was your crime, sir? What terrible deeds prompted you to seek out the sanctuary of the damned?" Pacian stared at the officer for a moment before answering.

"If you know of us, then you know how seriously we take our vows of redemption."

"The only justice is the king's justice," Sir Gaston retorted. "It is not the place of priests to decide the fates of those who break the Crown's laws."

"Some consider it a worthy cause, to redeem the wicked."

"Some think otherwise," the captain replied brusquely.

"I suspect you two could go back and forth all night long," Aiden interrupted impatiently, "but we are in need of rest and shelter. Can you help us, or should we continue on to the next town?"

"You will not take one further step into Tulsone until I am satisfied you are not spies," Captain Favre instructed. "Only my vows of chivalry forced me to provide aid to women in need. The two ladies may find rest within the confines of the tower, while you and your associate can find some place around here not already occupied. Our supplies are limited, so I would ask you to exercise restraint during your stay."

"Two ladies? Don't you mean..." Aiden began to ask, but trailed off as he looked around and couldn't see Sayana.

"You said something?" the captain inquired, but Aiden shook his head. The sorceress had chosen to hide, to avoid dealing with the men of this camp and he wasn't about to inform the captain of her presence.

"Nothing, I'm just tired. I think I'll find some food and a place to rest."

"I will check in on you later," the captain said. "For now, I must assess the wounded and determine if the gate can be repaired before first light." He gave them a short, crisp bow and turned to see to his duties.

"A rather pleasant chap," Criosa remarked quietly. "We could have met someone far worse than he."

"He really doesn't like you," Aiden said to Pacian.

"I understand his position," he replied with a nonchalant shrug. "There are some of my brothers and sisters in the monastery who came from a pretty dark place. You'd be scared to run into them on a dark night, but these men and women have the souls of poets. We are shaped by events in our life, but the blood remains true to who we could have been. Some people have trouble seeing past the rough exterior to the beauty that lies beneath. Anyway, I should go and see to the needs of the wounded."

"He really has changed," Criosa confided to Aiden after the ascetic had walked away.

"And these people could use as much help as they can get," Aiden remarked grimly. "At a cursory glance, I'd say the captain has lost more than half of his command, with most of those remaining injured in some fashion. With the gate lost, he's not going to be able to hold this position, but something tells me he's the kind of officer who never retreats."

"What are you thinking?"

"That I'm hungry and in need of a good night's sleep," Aiden replied simply. "But first, I'm going to see if I can wash up a little. I must reek of the dungeons."

"Well I wasn't going to say anything, but now that you mention it..." Criosa remarked with a faint trace of a smile.

"Sy, try to stay out of trouble," Aiden said to the air, for he didn't need his enhanced sight to know she would probably be standing close by.

"I always try," came Sayana's whispering voice only a few feet away, confirming his suspicions. From near the wall, a guard let out a warning shout which Aiden couldn't understand, but managed to infer the meaning of. A ripple of tension swept through the beleaguered defenders as Captain Favre took to the wall and looked out over the desert plains.

"Did you catch any of that?" Aiden asked as they moved towards the commotion.

"There's somebody approaching the wall," Criosa explained. "I think it's one of the Aielish soldiers, on horseback."

"Just one?" Aiden wondered, receiving a nod of confirmation from the princess. "Let's listen in." Crossbows were pointed over the walls as the Tulsonite soldiers readied themselves for anything, in stark contrast to the captain's measured stance. Aiden and Criosa took up position just below the parapet, hidden from sight but able to hear well enough.

"Good evening sir," came a familiar voice from beyond the wall. "I have come to ask for your surrender."

"Lord Carbrey Richardson," Aiden whispered to Criosa, who nodded but remained silent.

"You think we are beaten?" Captain Favre retorted.

"Captain, your forces were crushed in our last assault," Carbrey explained in a condescending tone. "Your remaining men will not be enough to prevent my army from taking this outpost and moving into Tulsone. I implore you sir — surrender now and spare the lives of your people."

"What you ask is impossible, My Lord," the captain replied evenly. "I cannot ask them to surrender, for like me, they swore an oath to defend our country. Would you have us break our word?"

"I would ask you to have the sense to know when you are beaten," Carbrey exclaimed. "You will gain nothing from further resistance, save your own demise."

"Then if this is to be our end, we will make it one for the history books," Sir Gaston shouted, to the muted roar of approval from the remaining men under his command. It was at that moment Aiden noticed Pacian slip past him, up the stairs to where the captain was making his speech.

"Pace, what are you doing?" Aiden hissed, reluctant to make his presence known. The ascetic ignored him and crested the parapet, casually leaning on his staff as he looked over the wall.

"Pardon me, but I have something to add," Pacian said to Carbrey. "There has been enough death in this war, and at this outpost in particular. You will not be permitted to slaughter these men, as much as they appear to welcome such an end."

"I would know your name, sir," Carbrey responded crisply.

"Brother Pacian, of the Keepers of the Light. This outpost is under my protection. I suggest you return to your army and retreat immediately."

"Your order is known to me, Brother Pacian," the baron purred. "Your threat is an empty one, as your kind abhors violence, does it not?"

"We do our best to avoid taking life," Pacian confirmed, "but in battle, all kinds of accidents can happen. I used to be very good at killing, and I fear I may suffer a relapse if confronted with an army of men attempting to kill me." Though he spoke the words with calm assurance, there was an undercurrent of menace that gave Aiden chills.

"Pacian... Savidge, am I correct?" Carbrey asked. "I have heard of your infamous deeds prior to your cowardly escape to the Keepers. You used to keep such illustrious company, years ago. My former commander Aiden Wainwright, and of course Princess Criosa, used to call you friend before your string of murders was revealed. Such a shame about their treason — they were immensely loyal people at one time in their lives. Of course, nobody has seen them in months, since their escape from Fairloch via arcane means. The strange thing is, there was a report about an ascetic from the Keepers who aided their escape. A robed chap with a staff... not unlike yours, actually."

"Don't pretend to know me or what I'm capable of," Pacian warned.

"I am curious, however," Carbrey went on as if he hadn't heard, "if your friends are still with you. Would Aiden Wainwright cower behind the scenes, listening in on our conversation in anonymity? Or would he show some courage and stand beside you. The former, I think..."

"Enough," Aiden barked in growing anger. He stormed up the stairs in spite of Criosa's calming hands laid upon his arm, and glowered at Pacian for a moment before looking over the wall at the baron, sitting astride his warhorse with a white flag fluttering in the breeze.

"Aiden, you're looking well," Carbrey offered in greeting as they locked eyes. "I'm pleased to see you haven't become a coward during your exile, but if you wanted to remain hidden, perhaps you should have chosen more reputable company. Quite the getup you're wearing their old chap — finally gone off the deep end, have we?"

"I'm not going to bandy words with you," Aiden called, struggling to control his rising anger. "You're following the orders of a madman, and it has to stop."

"As melodramatic as ever," Carbrey remarked dryly. "And there is Princess Criosa and Nellise Sannemann, all together at last. How fitting that I should meet you all here, sitting on the opposite side of the conflict with your Tulsonite friends." Aiden looked to his side and saw the two ladies had joined him on the wall. Sir Gaston levelled a blank stare at the four of them, clearly infuriated at the revelation of their true identities.

"Whatever orders my father has given you are false, sir," Criosa spoke with all the authority she could muster. "He is deranged, confused and sick. You must cease hostilities at once."

"He is neither sick nor mad," Carbrey shouted back, bristling at the insult to his liege. "King Seamus has been chosen to wield a mighty weapon, bestowed upon him by the Archieros of the Church, in the name of God."

"What?" Nellise retorted. "That cannot be. The archieros is old and frail, and others speak lies in his name."

"Do you really expect me to believe one who was exiled from the Church?" Carbrey retorted. "I will hear no more of these outrageous accusations from traitors and murderers. You have until tomorrow morning to withdrawal. Then I will take this place, and damn all those within your walls to the abyss. Though I do not wish to harm the daughter of my sovereign — traitor though she is — I will do so if you decide to remain here with your doomed comrades."

Without another word, Lord Carbrey turned his horse around and cantered off across the dusty plain, towards a distant line of campfires.

"We need to speak in private," Sir Gaston growled to Aiden, looking at him with accusing eyes as he stormed past. Aiden shot a similar glance to Pacian, as he indicated they should all follow the captain. Around them, the beleaguered defenders paused in their work to glare at their company with fresh eyes.

"I know what you're going to say," Pacian said quietly as soon as they passed through the tower's entrance. "You can save your breath — I make no apologies for attempting to end this conflict and avert a slaughter."

"You think we are so weak they would simply cut us to ribbons?" Sir Gaston accused.

"I'm referring to their slaughter, not ours," Pacian clarified to an incredulous look from the captain. "You heard our names, you know who we are. Regardless of what else you may think of us, we are unfamiliar with defeat and tend to leave a trail of bodies in our wake."

"You are right, for your names are infamous within our borders. Lord Aiden — formerly Lord Aiden," Sir Gaston snapped, "is responsible for sending raids against my Kingdom for the past two years. Hundreds of my men have died at your hands—"

"Just as hundreds of my men have died at yours," Aiden interrupted with a raised voice. "Neither of us can claim the moral high ground in this conflict, Captain." Sir Gaston turned away and paced the room in thought.

"You couldn't just stay hidden," Aiden whispered to Pacian.

"We're trying to end this war, remember?" the ascetic replied calmly. "I will not stand idly by when an opportunity presents itself to do so."

"You could have at least kept your name secret," Criosa muttered. "You've quite the reputation outside of the monastery."

"I wasn't aware of that," Pacian replied soberly. "I hadn't intended to give away our identities."

"This changes much," Captain Favre finally said. "You are enemies of King Osric, and the very idea of allowing you free passage into Tulsone is preposterous. Yet you are clearly not spies. Have you come seeking political sanctuary?"

"I owe you an apology, Captain," Aiden began, rubbing his unshaven chin. "I didn't set out to try and trick you or take advantage of you, but I suppose a full explanation is in order. As you've heard, we have been declared exiles and traitors by King Seamus for our efforts to find a way to stop the war. We failed to sway the government and the king from within the system, so now we're taking the only other option open to us."

"You wish to join with your old enemies in order to help us defeat your king," Sir Gaston stated blandly, puffing on his cigar with little enthusiasm.

"Put simply, yes," Criosa added. The captain seemed to consider this from within his cloud of smoke.

"What did Baron Carbrey mean when he said your king had been given a gift from God?"

"As I said, lies," Nellise answered. "The gift he was given came from the Battle of Fort Highmarch two years ago. You are of course familiar with the Ironlord."

"More than familiar," Sir Gaston confirmed.

"King Seamus and his wizard have the shell of that thing in their keeping, and intend to use it as a weapon against your country. I don't have full information on the Church's involvement, but I assure you the archieros will have nothing to do with it. His subordinates, however, would seem to be conspiring with the king in some fashion, doubtless to gain in power, both political and otherwise. But all this corruption stems from King Seamus."

"You paint a bleak picture," Sir Gaston said after they had finished speaking. "Nevertheless, your presence, and the unwitting testimony of Lord Carbrey seem to lend credence to your story."

"So, you'll let us go?" Aiden inquired hopefully.

"I dare not let you proceed into our country without an escort, and I can spare nobody at this time. More than that, I would need to vouch for you personally upon reaching the capital, and I will not abandon my post. If you want to succeed in your mission, you will apply your various talents and contribute to our defence. If we survive tomorrow's assault, I will take you to Lanfall personally."

"Well, he may have overstated our strength," Aiden hedged. "I fear we are but a shadow of our former selves. Nellise has no equipment, and I possess only a few items taken from the body of a deceased friend."

"You have my condolences on your loss," Sir Gaston offered diplomatically. "We have all lost people dear to us in the war, but if we do not hold this fort, the Aielish forces will be free to raid deep into the heart of my country with nothing to stop them. Take what equipment you need from our fallen."

"Agreed," Criosa replied. "You might want to inform your men of our allegiance, in case they take matters into their own hands."

"They would never act without my authority, but I will speak to them," the captain assured her. "Rest yourselves, and prepare for the fight at dawn tomorrow. You will find food and water through that door, and a room to sleep on your right as you go through."

"I will find my own place to rest, after I have finished tending the wounded," Pacian said, and with a slight bow, turned and left the building.

"I should do the same," Nellise murmured hesitantly.

"You look exhausted, Nel," Criosa remarked sympathetically. "Haven't you done enough already?"

"If Pacian can find the will to go on, so to shall I," Nellise replied firmly. "Lives may yet be saved."

"And we are grateful for all you can do," the captain offered. "I will call for you all before dawn, so I suggest you find as much rest as you can."

"Thank you, Sir Gaston," Nellise replied as she followed him out the door.

"And what will you be doing, Sy?" Aiden asked pointedly to the near-empty room. "You can't stay invisible forever."

"There is sure to be a place to sleep around here where nobody will trip over me," her disembodied voice answered as it moved towards the staircase. "I will intervene in the fight tomorrow only to save your lives, should the need arise. Otherwise, I will remain hidden."

"Thank you?" Criosa responded in a perplexed manner. There was no reply forthcoming, so Aiden assumed the sorceress had left the room. Criosa shrugged and took Aiden by the arm. She led him through to the mess, where tables and chairs were arranged around the walls of the round chamber, and the aroma of hot stew was heavy in the air. A few other soldiers were present, too tired to do anything but eat. Aiden and Criosa sat at the nearest table and helped themselves to several bowls of the hearty stew.

"Another fine mess we're in," Criosa mumbled as she ate.

"Clashing with our countrymen was going to happen sooner or later," Aiden reminded her. "There's just no getting around it. Which reminds me..." He set his spoon on the table and pulled out the scrolls and other arcane items he had procured from Desmond, and began to examine them closely as he enjoyed his tasty meal.

"Excellent," he murmured as he noted the runes and sigils upon the parchments. "I'll be able to make good use of these, and this wand conjures lightning, something I'm familiar with. Do you want any of these?"

"I'll take the scrolls, if you don't mind," she replied crisply, scooping them up.

"You've never forgiven me for using so many at once, back in the throne room that day, have you?"

"Had you been training in the arcane arts instead of learning how to be a lord, I might have permitted you to use these," she replied haughtily.

"Good enough for me," Aiden said, unwilling to start an argument. He was more proficient than she realised, but there was no point making a fuss. "As for these rings, they're anyone's guess."

"No inscriptions at all?"

"Just a single word of activation," Aiden mused. "Desmond probably made these himself — he was always forgetting to label things around the laboratory."

"You'll have to experiment tomorrow I suppose," Criosa sighed, shoving her plate aside. "I think I've eaten enough. Frankly, your smell is overriding my hunger at this point."

"Okay I can take a hint," Aiden chuckled. "I'm starting to become used to it — not a good sign. There's probably a bath around here, somewhere." They left the table and searched through the doors leading off from the mess, until Aiden noticed a man carrying two sloshing buckets from the door at the far end of the mess. Catching Criosa's attention, Aiden stepped through the doorway and found a circular well in the middle of the chamber, with half a dozen bathtubs lining the walls.

"Oh my," Criosa breathed at the sight. "It may not be a fancy inn, but it's amazing what a few simple amenities can accomplish." Aiden picked up a bucket, filled it with water and promptly dumped it over his head, revelling in the sudden splash of cold. It was the first relief from the wasteland's heat in days, and the first time clean water had touched his skin in more than a week. At least, a week in his time frame. Thinking about their two-month absence in the Aether gave him a headache.

Criosa began pouring buckets of water into the nearest tub with an eagerness she couldn't hide. Aiden's eyes drifted to her slender legs, red from exposure to so much sun, and suddenly felt a desire for her he couldn't suppress. The prospect of more blood and death, combined with years apart from the woman he loved seemed to give his hands a mind of their own.

She gave a little squeal of surprise as he took her by the shoulders, spun her around and planted a passionate kiss on her lips. His hands glided down to the more interesting areas of her body. The bucket fell to the ground and spilled its contents on the hard surface as she threw her arms around him and squeezed tight. By the time they separated for air, her short golden hair was messed up and her face held a dreamy expression.

Her breath came in short gasps as she lifted up Aiden's robe and pulled it over his head, while he blindly felt around for the clasps securing her cured leather breastplate on. Aiden's filthy old trousers, still worn underneath the robe tore apart as Criosa tried to remove them, and her blouse met a similar fate at his hands after her breastplate fell to the floor.

He grabbed her rump and lifted her up, then moved them both over to the door. She gasped as Aiden pressed her up against the hard surface, while he reached over with a free hand to grab a chair and wedge it in place against the handle.

She giggled as he gave her a wink of satisfaction, then lifted her over towards the tub of water she had been filling, her legs wrapped around his waist with surprising strength. Although he wasn't really paying much attention, Aiden was sure he heard knocking on the door a few times over the following hours, but whoever it was had the sense to leave them to it. It was the one time Aiden had missed an entire night of sleep without regretting it later.

Chapter Seven

The sound of someone hammering on the door snapped Aiden out of his sleepy reverie. He lay naked upon his robe with Criosa dozing in his arms. Despite their best efforts, both of them had managed to briefly fall asleep, much to the ire of those outside who clearly wanted access to the mess hall.

This time the knocking didn't stop, indeed it grew with intensity by the moment. Criosa squirmed as she looked at it, bleary eyed but with a dreamy smile on her face, catching the dim light of a nearby low-burning lantern in a captivating manner.

"We'd probably better get up," Aiden whispered to her, wishing they could be left alone to sleep a while longer.

"Duty calls," she mumbled in agreement, looking around for her clothes as Aiden pulled on the remains of his trousers. As he began pulling the hefty robe over his head, the door suddenly exploded inwards, sending the chair skittering across the floor. The robed figure of Pacian stood in the doorway, glaring at the scene with cold eyes which quickly softened at the sight of the two half-dressed lovers.

"Really? The night before a battle and you stay up all night 'churning the butter'?" he remarked incredulously. Behind him, half a dozen soldiers rushed into the room to fill buckets of water from the well, heedless of concerns about modesty.

"It seemed like the thing to do," Aiden responded, continuing to dress as Criosa, red-faced, attempted to wrap her shredded blouse around her chest.

"The captain wants to see you on the battlements right away," Pacian stated in a more serious tone. "Light is beginning to crest the horizon — it's time." Aiden gave him searching look and nodded, then assisted Criosa to strap on her leather breastplate.

The soldiers rushed around gathering other supplies before heading back through the door, with Aiden and his two companions close behind. Upon stepping outside, the cold desert air hit Aiden in the face like a wall of cold. A sliver of light lined the horizon, but otherwise the outpost was lit only by a few torches. Pacian led them up the stairs to the top of the wall, where Captain Sir Gaston gazed out over the field before them.

"Good morning to you," he greeted them without enthusiasm. "I understand there was a problem with the door to the well room?"

"Yes, the damn latch broke," Aiden lamented. He was only half lying — the latch was definitely broken now.

"Maintenance has been lacking here of late," the captain apologised. "Nevertheless, I hope you both managed to get some rest."

"Hardly sleep a wink," Aiden drawled as he looked out over the expanse of grey earth towards the distant lights of their enemies. The captain grunted ambiguously, his eyes also fixed on the horizon. With each passing moment, the sky grew lighter. It was only a matter of time before the Aielish forces would strike, and the Tulsonite defenders finished their preparations as quickly as possible.

No more than thirty defenders remained to hold the outpost. Middle-aged men and boys, all of them unshaven, careworn, but holding firm in their resolve in the face of the impending battle.

"I wish I could find some way to stop this," Aiden murmured, glancing at the faces of men he was about to fight alongside of. "Half of the Aielish forces we'll be fighting today are here because I sent them."

"If we die here, your mission will fail," the captain pointed out grimly. "These men who come against us — their blood is the price of peace. Remember that and do not hesitate in battle, for they believe you traitors and will not spare your lives."

"I know," Aiden whispered, squeezing Criosa's hand in his own. A flash of blue caught his eye as Nellise ascended the battlements. She wore a belt strapped around her waist, upon which were several pouches of crossbow quarrels and her medicine kit. In her hands she held a sturdy crossbow, borrowed from one of the Tulsonite archers.

Its construction was different to the simpler designs he'd seen in Aielund, able to hold and shoot two separate bolts in rapid succession — one above the brace, one below. While not in the same class as the advanced dwarven repeaters, it was a formidable weapon in its own right.

"I won't wish you a good morning, for this is anything but," Nellise said as she stood on the parapet, as out of place as one could imagine.

"Couldn't you find anything more appropriate to wear?" Criosa inquired.

"There is no armour here of my size, and the Sisters are already down to using their spare robes. Don't worry, I'll stay out of the direct fighting unless I must. My priority is to ensure the survival of your men, so when the need arises, I will go to the aid of the Sisters healing your wounded."

"Sister Angelique will be relieved to hear that, for she has been understaffed for weeks, and forced to witness too many deaths as a result."

"Captain, movement across the field," an archer shouted from further down the wall in heavily accented Aielish. A ripple of movement went through the defenders as they peered across the plain, to see a line of infantry jogging in an orderly fashion towards the wall, carrying huge Aielish longbows.

"There has to be fifty of them," Aiden muttered.

"I can see men on horseback behind them," Criosa pointed out. "Another twenty at least."

"They have clearly received reinforcements in the past day," Sir Gaston growled. "This makes our task all the more difficult.

"We have a few surprises up our sleeves yet," Aiden assured him. As the rim of the sun crested the horizon, the archers came to a halt roughly two hundred yards from the wall.

"They are disciplined, I'll give them that," the captain admitted grudgingly. "They know our crossbows will be largely ineffective at that range." The sounds of shouted orders could be heard echoing over the desolate landscape, and the archers responded by raising their weapons high and taking aim.

"Boucliers!" Sir Gaston shouted in Tuscara, and the men on the wall quickly set aside their crossbows and raised heavy shields above their heads, as their enemies shot a wave of arrows at the outpost. Aiden quickly summoned his translucent shield of force and raised his arm in kind, holding Criosa close to protect them both.

The arrows seemed to hang in the air for a long moment before raining down upon the defenders. High-pitched sounds of feathered shafts slipping through the air were terrifying to hear, but the men held firm. More than one arrow struck Aiden's shield, shattering upon its surface and giving him a start. Others did not fare so well, however.

Despite their heavy construction, the shields proved to be little impediment to the armour-piercing tips of the arrows. Half a dozen men were struck down when the arrows pierced the shields and went deep into their bodies, sometimes even passing straight through an arm to impact the ground below.

Criosa suddenly nudged Aiden in the ribs, forcing him to release his grip on her a little. He hadn't realised he'd been holding her so tightly, but when she could move again, she quickly unfurled a scroll in one hand and by the light of the rising sun, invoked the arcane runes upon it.

A shimmering barrier of force came into existence above their heads, deflecting arrows away from the wall with ease. It was not unlike Aiden's shield, but massive in size, easily covering the entire wall. The archers kept shooting for the next minute, either hoping to break through or unable to see what was happening from such a distance, but regardless of their reasons, not one more arrow struck the wall of the Tulsonite outpost. Under the cover of this arcane protection, Nellise and the other Sisters emerged from hiding and pulled the injured men to safety.

"Nice one," Aiden congratulated Criosa, as the archers finally ceased their assault.

"Though I am thankful, could you not have deployed such magic sooner?" the captain pointed out.

"I was planning to utilise that particular incantation to block the entrance to the fort," Criosa explained. "But since you don't have anything here to counter their archers, I was forced to use it thusly. It is angled towards their direction, stymieing further attacks from range, but leaving a large gap near the ground. It won't stop a direct assault."

"How long can you maintain it?"

"As long as I continue to concentrate," Criosa conceded. The sun was well and truly above the horizon, and by its harsh light Aiden could see the formation of distant archers parting to allow the cavalry through to the vanguard. Behind them, another hundred infantry stood at the ready with the shining armoured figure of Lord Carbrey astride his warhorse amidst their ranks, commanding from the rear.

"I make out twenty light cavalry, but the infantry are the real problem," Aiden surmised, drawing a faint nod from the captain.

"They will make for the ruins of the gate and attempt to breach the perimeter," he said. "Little could be done to cover the entrance, so we must prevent them from reaching it. Cavalerie!" Behind them, eight heavily armoured chevaliers clapped down their visors and saluted the captain in response. When Sir Gaston signalled, they spurred their massive horses onwards and thundered through the breach.

"They're vastly outnumbered, and won't be protected from the longbow men," Aiden warned.

"Their archers won't be able to shoot when the cavalry are engaged," the captain responded. Out on the field, the Aielish light cavalry were charging towards their Tulsonite counterparts and within moments, crashed together in a flurry of steel and noise.

Aiden watched as the chevaliers cleaved a path through the middle of their opponents, scattering Aielish horsemen to either side like the bow of a ship cutting through stormy seas. But as they cleared the back of the enemy formation, the Aielish longbow men had a clear line of sight and made full use of it.

Arrows pelted the armoured knights as they turned to engage the cavalry. Aiden estimated their range was less than fifty yards, and at that distance the power of the Aielish longbow became formidable. Two chevaliers fell to the ground, their armour penetrated in several places, while two others were gravely wounded. They did not retreat however — instead, they turned their attention to the archers and spurred their gigantic mounts onward.

At the sight of the charging cavalry, Aiden drew out Desmond's wand and pointed it at the archers. He whispered the word of command and a bolt of lightning crackled through the air, knocking down several soldiers and continuing on through two others behind them.

Those that survived the attack soon perished under the hooves of the chevaliers. In spite of this, the advancing Tulsonite infantry rushed towards the open gate with a deafening roar of defiance. Aiden turned his attention to them and commanded another bolt from his wand, stunning and burning at least six of them but did little to stem the tide.

Sir Gaston drew his sword and hurried down the stairs to join his men at the ruined gate, ready to meet the onslaught. Beside him, Pacian appeared, calmly standing in the breach with his quarterstaff at the ready. The two men gave each other a curious glance before they were set upon by the oncoming army. Tulsonite pikemen pointed their weapons into the wave of the assault, but were forced to drop their weapons when the enemy pressed in too close.

The men in the breach seemed to have the situation under control until three of their number suddenly fell to the ground with great gaping wounds in their sides. Aiden surveyed the scene, perplexed by the dust being kicked up from something they couldn't see.

On a hunch, Aiden narrowed his vision and shifted his sight to the spectrum where he could see anything cloaked in magical invisibility, and not surprisingly, he saw Sayana's silhouetted figure in amongst the dust. What he wasn't prepared for, however, were three other figures moving about near her.

Aside from Criosa, Aiden was the only one who could see the invisible interlopers, so he drew his borrowed singlesword and went to touch the belt the elves of Acadia had given him years before, to invoke its spectral armour, before realising he'd lost it when captured back in Fairloch.

In the past, Aiden had somehow absorbed the power from relics such as the belt — the shimmering shield he held in one hand had come from a glove they had found along the way to Culdeny. It wasn't something he did consciously — it was some sort of innate talent he had in the back of his mind. He closed his eyes and pictured himself covered in glowing plates of armour, and whispered the word that would have invoked the power of the belt.

He felt a momentary dizziness and held onto the rail, but looking down at his hand he felt a sense of triumph, for the vague outline of the spectral armour was visible on his limbs. Shaking off his momentary fatigue, Aiden gritted his teeth and rushed down the stairs into the fury of the battle.

Never before had he tried fighting while maintaining his enhanced vision, and with the world reduced to shades of dark blue, Aiden decided to keep away from the front line and focus on his prey. Outlined against the world were the bright silhouettes of four combatants. He knew Sayana's shape from experience, and observed she was being hard-pressed to keep her invisible assailants at bay.

Aiden attempted to appear as if his attention was focused on the battle at the gate, hoping to fool his adversaries into thinking he couldn't see them. The deception only lasted until he was close enough to strike at one of the small assailants, at which point he drove his sword into the side of the nearest target. A woman's scream erupted as he struck her down, and she faded from his enhanced sight, indicating her incantation had evaporated along with her life.

Standing alongside Sayana, Aiden found himself the target of both remaining assailants, women who were clearly well-practiced with the obscure art of invisible combat. Aiden's sight wasn't detailed enough to show subtle shapes and movements, and he felt their daggers impact his spectral armour again and again as he failed to parry their strikes.

Sayana continued to slash at them with her own dagger, clearly refusing to engage them with her sorcery, but Aiden didn't feel quite so restricted. Sensing he was outmatched, he discared subtlety and raised the wand, sending a bolt of lightning at the closet assailant. Electricity crackled around her as she took the full force of the blast, before toppling to the ground.

Facing two opponents against whom her invisibility was useless, the final assassin dropped her invisibility and brought her hands together. A clap of thunder rolled out over the battlefield, stunning Aiden and practically everyone else nearby. With his mind reeling, he was unable to hold his enhanced sight as he struggled to keep his footing.

A sudden burst of pain erupted in his head as he was struck from behind, the impact mostly absorbed by his spectral armour, but the force of the blow sent him sprawling to the arid ground. He had a vague sense of someone standing over him, and when he rolled over to face the sky, saw the small woman moving quickly to finish him off.

Her murderous gaze suddenly turned to one of shock as her body stiffened, and blood began to stain her white blouse. Behind her, Sayana materialised, her dagger held firmly in the assassin's back. The dying woman fell to one side as the sorceress withdrew her weapon and promptly vanished again, leaving Aiden to pull himself together and regain his footing.

He shook his head to try and clear it, before turning his attention to the battle at the gate of the outpost. The defenders were holding the line, mostly thanks to the efforts of Sir Gaston and Pacian. Despite their animosity, the ascetic worked alongside the captain with grace and devastating effectiveness.

While he made clear his order's aversion to causing death, Pacian had no qualms about tripping his opponents with his quarterstaff, sending them sprawling to the ground to be finished off by a waiting Tulsonite soldier. A pile of bodies lay at their feet, but it wasn't enough to dissuade others from continuing the attack.

Aiden moved to hold the breach and conjured another bolt of lightning, dropping half a dozen men at once. It would only be a few moments until more of them began pouring through the gap, and it was then he saw the towering mounted figure of Lord Carbrey appeared further along the defensive line, spattered with blood and wielding a heavy mace. Unfazed by the chaos of the fight, Carbrey pressed forward, the immense bulk of his warhorse shoving aside anyone and anything in his way.

Sir Gaston moved to strike at his counterpart. With his sword raised, he roared and slashed at the horse's flank. The edge of his blade clanged off the side of the armoured beast and the captain was forced to avoid Carbrey's mace as he swung low.

Aiden watched as he saw the knight strike down Sir Gaston clipping the side of the man's helmeted head with enough force to knock him out. Fury welled up within Aiden as he looked up at the armoured man, and with hardly a thought he raised his palm and spoke a word of command.

Aiden was grimly satisfied when a wave of force rippled out from his hand, slamming into Carbrey and his horse and knocking both of them to the ground. Heedless of the risk to himself, Aiden charged in with his sword at the ready, hoping to finish the man off before he could regain his footing, but Carbrey had been thrown clear of the impact and was rising from the ground to meet him.

Filled with rage, Aiden had nothing to say to the man and the Aielish lord had no chance to speak, as their weapons met in a shower of sparks and fury. Whether it was the primal nature of their fight or simple respect from the surrounding soldiers, nobody attempted to interrupt or aid either man as they clashed.

Wearing little more than the robe of his fallen mentor, Aiden was quick on his feet and protected by powerful sorcery. Aiden could only slash and stab at the weaker areas of Carbrey's armour, hoping to find a gap he could exploit, while Carbrey simply swung his giant, two-handed mace with little finesse, knowing any direct impact could cripple.

Aiden had never been especially quick, certainly not compared to Pacian, but against the lumbering, unhorsed knight he was practically as fast as the wind. He poked and prodded at Carbrey's defences, and even attempted to trip him up more than once, but not only did he fail, he narrowly avoided being struck with the deadly mace.

Aiden managed to jump back a few feet to avoid just such a swing, then quickly dashed in to stab furiously at Carbrey, knowing he couldn't bring the heavy weapon under control fast enough to stop him. What he didn't take into consideration was the lord's armoured fist. Freeing up one hand, he clenched the gauntleted hand and punched Aiden in the shoulder.

Aiden rolled with the blow and brought his wand up, speaking the command word to conjure a bolt of lightning. Nothing happened, and the brief moment between saying the word and coming to the realisation the wand had been depleted was more than enough for Carbrey to smash the mace into Aiden's head with all the force he could muster.

The world spun as pain exploded across his face, his spectral armour shattering in a wave of blue sparks under the blow. Aiden slammed into the ground, barely coherent. His vision swam, but through it all he could see the towering armoured figure of his opponent standing over him, exhausted from the battle but slowly raising his mace to bring down upon Aiden's prone form.

A crossbow bolt bounced off the lord's shoulder plate, distracting him for a moment. Aiden twisted his head around to see Nellise standing with her crossbow aimed at Carbrey. Their eyes met and a moment later she shot the second bolt, this time striking him in the shoulder. Blood splashed outward from the wound and he grunted in pain. It also gave Aiden the time he needed to act.

Gritting his teeth, he lunged forward onto his knees, dropping his sword and grabbing onto Carbrey's iron-plated leg. With a quick spoken word, he unleashed a surge of electricity through his hand, crackling over the entire surface of the armour. Carbrey screamed and fell to the ground, his limbs twitching and smoke rising from his scorched skin.

Aiden didn't pause, knowing Carbrey wasn't finished yet. He quickly ripped open the visor on the fallen lord's helm and slammed his fist into the man's face. All of Aiden's frustration and anger over this brutal, senseless conflict came flooding out at that moment, and he lost count of how many times he struck the helpless man. Only when Aiden saw his own blood-covered hand did he come to his senses, his chest heaving with effort and emotion as he looked down upon the barely recognisable face of his enemy.

Around him, the fighting went on as the Aielish soldiers continued following the last command of their leader. Those that had seen him fall in the fight were attempting to come to his aid, but found themselves blocked by a robed man with a staff. Always agile, Pacian had learned new ways to move during his time with the Keepers and had attained new heights of speed. He parried, blocked and disarmed men with incredible speed, knocking them down with a blow to the head and holding the line almost single-handed.

On the wall above, Criosa had been shooting crossbow quarrels at the enemy as well, but now she simply stared down at Aiden in shock, having witnessed his display of brutality moments before. She cast aside her weapon and pulled out something from a small pouch on her belt. Taking a moment to concentrate, she held a small object to her lips and whispered into it.

"Lord Carbrey has fallen!" Her voice rang out over the battlefield, augmented by an incantation to amplify sound. "Retreat now or you will meet a similar fate!"

Many on the front line continued to battle on, but her words had the effect of prompting the archers to turn and flee the battle. Although an improvement, there were still too many footmen for the hard-pressed defenders to hold against.

"I warned you," Criosa added, unfurling a scroll in one hand. She quickly read the words upon the parchment and as it crumbled into smoke and ash, she lifted the palm of one hand upward, and saw over a dozen Aielish infantry suddenly begin to float into the sky. They cried out in fear as they rose over twenty yards into the air, dangling from nothingness as if they were puppets. Then, as if casting judgement on their sins, Criosa snapped her palm away and the men screaming back to earth with a bloody crunch.

This more than anything else brought the fight to an abrupt halt. The prospect of facing powerful magic dampened the urge to fight on, and the sergeants within the ranks of the Aielunders quickly ordered the retreat. Within moments, the fighting ceased, leaving the few remaining defenders tottering unsteadily on exhausted legs. They had prevailed, but at a cost to both sides.

Aiden paused to catch his breath, reflecting on the lack of options available to him to avert this battle, but as he looked around, he saw not just Criosa, but Nellise and many of the archers nearby looking back at him warily. All had undoubtedly witnessed the anger he had unleashed upon Lord Carbrey, and from their reaction he surmised it hadn't been a pretty sight.

Chapter Eight

"He's going to make it," Nellise informed them, after a quick examination of Sir Gaston. The side of his face was smeared with blood where he had been struck by Lord Carbrey's mace, but according to the cleric it wasn't as bad as it looked. She began to whisper her healing prayers as Aiden watched from a discreet distance.

Quietly relieved the captain would survive, Aiden stood over the bodies of the three women who had attacked with magic and stealth during the fight. They had clearly been working for Aielund, and they used magic like no wizards Aiden had ever seen.

"Pretty strange, huh," Pacian remarked as he looked down at the fallen assassins.

"Very," Aiden agreed. "Desmond had spoken of rogue wizards being offered pardons for serving the Crown, and I think that's what we're looking at. Criosa uses the same incantation, sort of an intelligent camouflage which gives the impression of true invisibility. This was the best I've seen, though. Proper experts. The Maddox sisters, Desmond called them."

"I know we've fought a few in the past, but what exactly defines a 'rogue' wizard?" Pacian asked as Criosa joined them.

"I'll field that one," she replied as she put her arm around Aiden's waist. "The Church policed the use of magic since its inception, and sets strict guidelines for what is acceptable behaviour. I believe combining magic and deadly assassination skills would breach those guidelines. These three probably ran when their little secret was discovered, and have been plying their trade outside of Aielund's borders ever since."

"And now they show up, working for the Crown?" Aiden asked. "One by one, they're throwing aside their morals to try and win this war." Nearby, the captain began to stir, drawing their attention. Aiden immediately went to his side and helped him sit up.

"We prevailed," Sir Gaston remarked, taking in the aftermath of the battle around them. "You have my thanks. Without your aid, we would surely have perished."

"I wish I could share your enthusiasm, but I had to kill a number of people today who I knew personally," Aiden explained without emotion.

"Carbrey is still alive, after a fashion," Nellise mentioned, casting an accusing glance at Aiden. "The Sisters of Clemency and I saved as many as we could on both sides, so it isn't the bloodbath it might appear."

"You really went to work on that guy's face," Pacian remarked to Aiden.

"I might have gone a bit far at the time," he conceded, "but he's still alive. How do you justify your 'do not kill' policy with your own actions? I saw you knock them down for others to finish off."

"I didn't kill them," Pacian insisted, "but they were coming at me with the intent of harming myself and my friends. I would have preferred them to have survived, but frankly I was too busy fending off half an army to care. You're welcome, by the way." Aiden saw a flicker of the old, angry Pacian just before the ascetic paused to draw a calming breath, and step away from the argument.

"You can bicker about the semantics another time," the captain suggested as he slowly stood up with the assistance of Nellise and Aiden. "Take me to my quarters in the tower. I would rest for a time." Aiden exchanged a dour glance with Pacian but kept quiet, as they half-carried the wounded captain towards the tower. After ascending the stairs, they came to his simple quarters and carefully laid him down on the modest bed.

"Before we speak further," the captain said, "I would like to know the identity of your friend — the one who cannot be seen. Don't act so surprised, I have dealt with the invisible trio in the past, but never have they been so brazen. Your associate thwarted them, though I am somewhat put out that you failed to mention there was a fifth member of your company."

Before Aiden could speak, Sayana appeared right before them, her cloth rags matted with blood in several places. She pulled away her mask and looked at the captain with unflinching eyes.

"Oh Sy, why didn't you show up sooner," Nellise admonished her. The cleric immediately went to her assistance, checking her wounds before taking out her healing crystal once more. Sir Gaston looked Sayana up and down with appraising eyes.

"My thanks," Sir Gaston offered stiffly, keeping any further comments to himself. Aiden caught a hint of disapproval from the honourable soldier, and suspected his code of chivalry prevented him from speaking ill of her. Sayana sat in a nearby chair while Nellise tended her injuries, unperturbed by the captain's dour attitude.

"With the outpost secure and the enemy commander in our custody," the captain said, "I am compelled to honour my word and escort you to the capital. A meeting with King Osric will be arranged, and I will speak on your behalf. It will be good to see my home again after many years of service."

"Thank you," Criosa murmured. "Oh wait — you're from Lanfall? Do you happen to have a keepsake or other object of value from your home?"

"The painting on the wall behind you depicts my property," Sir Gaston replied uncertainly. Criosa's face lit up at the answer.

"May I borrow it?"

"If you like," the captain agreed, having completely lost the thread of the conversation. The princess carefully took the small painting down from its place on the wall and examined it closely. Curiously, she ignored the picture itself and seemed more interested in the frame.

"Good news, captain," she said after a long moment. "I can have us in Lanfall within a matter of minutes."

"I do not understand," he said.

"This painting may depict your home, but the frame was made in Lanfall. The wood still holds traces of the energies from that region, and it should be enough for me to teleport us directly there."

"'Should be' enough?" Aiden asked. "This isn't the sort of incantation you can be imprecise with."

"It will work," she assured him. "We can leave at a moment's notice, captain." Sir Gaston nodded his assent and reached over to a small table next to his bed, upon which sat a small bell. He rang it, and within moments the door opened. A young man stood there, patiently awaiting orders from his captain.

Sir Gaston spoke with him at length in Tuscara, while Criosa read through the incantation and focused her mind towards the task ahead of her.

"I have left my sergeant in command until my return, one week from now," Sir Gaston informed them once the page had left the room. "I will take this opportunity to bring supplies and reinforcements from the capital. I am prepared to leave, at your discretion, princess."

"Everyone, link hands," she instructed. With the results of the last mishap still vivid within his mind — and everyone else's — the did as instructed with Criosa in the middle of the circle, clutching onto the painting in one hand as she whispered the arcane language from the scroll. It ignited and turned to ash, and suddenly Aiden felt the familiar wrench as they were hurled through the swirling mists of the Aether.

Almost as quickly as it had begun, the dark mist vanished and was replaced with the light of day once more. Aiden breathed a sigh of relief at the short journey, noting the air was no longer dry but carried with it the smells of the sea. Although it was warm, it wasn't oppressively so. He looked up into a lightly clouded sky shrouded by tall trees, with a soft wind blowing and the sound of a bustling city not too far in the distance.

"Were you thinking of a forest at the time?" he asked Criosa, slightly puzzled at their surroundings.

"Of a sort," she answered. "My guess is this is the forest the tree was cut from, the one the picture frame was fashioned from. The wood still carries the unique vibration of this place."

"We are not far from Lanfall," Sir Gaston informed them. "Come, I will see you through to the palace without delay." They followed the captain through the copse of trees and emerged onto a dusty paved road. Lining the side of the road were empty fields, the land lying fallow in the height of summer. Aiden didn't need to ask to know what this meant — there simply weren't enough workers in the fields to keep the land fully productive.

Sir Gaston led them north, towards a distant stone wall with tall buildings rising from behind it — the capital of Tulsone, Lanfall. It was a short journey to the main gate, where they were permitted entry without delay. Aiden noted the guards seemed to be quite old, clearly veterans brought out of retirement for light duties, freeing up the younger men to fight and die on the front lines.

It was Aiden's first visit to a major Tulsonite city, and he wasn't sure what to expect when he stepped through the iron gates of Lanfall. What he found, however, was a city in ruins. The tallest buildings he'd seen rising above the wall on their approach gave the impression of a sophisticated, modern city, but once inside the true impact of King Seamus' assault nearly three years ago was clear for all to see.

Small shacks had been built over the ruins of older buildings, the rubble of which was still piled up nearby. The paved streets were cracked, and in many places showed bare earth underneath, making travel difficult for wagons trying to navigate the uneven surface.

The people living in the city went about their tasks stoically, without enthusiasm. Women whose husbands served far away, or had been killed in the fighting carried on with their lives as best they could. Only the children showed any real joy in their steps, scampering about the ruined buildings playing at war. If Aiden and his companions were unsuccessful, in a few years' time these children would be faced with the real thing.

The sun was well past its zenith by the time they reached the palace, the only building they'd seen which showed no signs of damage. It was a wide, open structure topped by three domes, with a set of wide stairs enshrined by fluted columns leading to the grand entrance. A tall, wrought iron gate surrounded the entire building, and was guarded by a dozen strong men clad in expensive armour.

Sir Gaston spoke with the gate commander at length, and seemed to become more exasperated as the conversation wore on. Finally, with a sigh of impatience Criosa stepped forward and added her voice to the ongoing discussion.

Within moments of her speaking, the gates parted and their small company were permitted entry to the palace grounds. Two of the guards accompanied them, and a third rushed ahead to send word to the king.

"What did you say to them?" Aiden whispered to Criosa as they strode towards the wide stairs.

"The truth," she shrugged. "I told them who I was, and that the king would definitely want to see me."

"Don't you find it a little disconcerting that we've entered the home of Aielund's sworn enemy so easily?"

"I'm sure they think they've got us right where they want us," Criosa admitted, "but whatever speeds up the impending meeting, the better. I should warn you Aiden, that Osric and I have a little history together, and you shouldn't take what's about to happen the wrong way."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Aiden pressed, but was interrupted by the opening of the grand doors of the palace. A long corridor beckoned, lined with small statues and other pieces of art. Criosa didn't hesitate to enter, sweeping gracefully along the hall with the others following closely behind. Aiden noticed Sayana had vanished again, and assumed she was somewhere nearby.

Although accustomed to the opulence of the castle in Fairloch, Aiden was taken aback by the wealth on display here. The high ceiling was covered with one immense oil painting, depicting the radiant light of heaven breaking through the clouds and shining down towards the other end of the hall.

Expertly positioned windows allowed natural light to pour through, adding to the effect. It was strangely reminiscent of a cathedral, except the focus of all this splendour ran directly to the end of the hallway, where it all converged upon the throne room visible through another set of double doors.

Seated upon the lavish chair was a young man of slight build, with blond hair and a regal bearing. The guard who had ran ahead of the group spoke briefly to him, and then bowed and stepped aside as Criosa entered the throne room. Next to the great chair stood an elderly man in regal livery, which appeared to be a few sizes too large for him. He watched the approaching group with a wary eye, and Aiden suddenly felt self-conscious of his rough appearance, and that of his friends.

Criosa came to a halt a few yards from the throne and curtseyed as though she were wearing one of her long, flowing gowns instead of bare legs. Sir Gaston stood beside her and bowed low before the king, who rose from his throne and stood above them both, bathed in the sunlight like some sort of small blond god.

"King Osric, I bring before you men and women who, through strange happenstance, came to our aid at Le Bastion," the captain said to the king in Aielish, probably for the benefit of Aiden and the others. Sir Gaston quickly went through the introductions, to which the king showed little interest until the knight went to introduce the princess. "Allow me to present—"

"Princess Criosa Roebec," Osric purred in slightly accented Aielish. "She and I are already well acquainted, Captain."

"I offer you greetings, Osric Davignon, King of Tulsone," Criosa replied in a very formal tone. "Forgive our roughshod appearance — the past few days have been very trying."

"From what I understand, you have been hiding out in the desert for months, Criosa," Osric corrected, his eyes quickly scanning the rest of them. "You certainly look the part. Also, you need not be so formal, my dear. There was a time we were arranged to be married."

"A time long past, Osric," Criosa reminded him.

"Not so long ago, I think," the king suggested. "I would ask what brings you here, into the very heart of my country during a time of war, but I think I can guess the nature of your visit."

"Regale us with your keen deductions," Criosa replied dryly.

"In saving the lives of two of your companions from the gallows, you became a traitor to your own people, and now seek shelter with the enemy of your father."

"Correct, but there is more to it than that," Aiden interjected, drawing a slightly irritated look from the king. "We all seek an end to the war, but our efforts to halt it from our end have amounted to nothing. You're right — we're traitors and on the run from Aielish forces, but we're still committed to ending the conflict, even if we have to help you win it."

"Aiden Wainwright," Osric said in recognition. "You have already betrayed one sovereign — how can I trust you to not do so again, with me as your target?"

"Because I have already saved your kingdom twice, Majesty," Aiden explained evenly. "Once by bringing an end to the Ironlord, and again this very morning when my companions and I aided Captain Sir Gaston's defence of your southern borders."

"Were it not for their intervention, Majesty, Baron Carbrey's force would certainly have broken our lines and begun raiding deep into Tulsone," the knight confirmed.

"For which I am grateful, yet your claim of ending the threat of the Ironlord rings false, fallen lord," Osric accused Aiden. "While you hid away in the wastelands, Seamus has been busy obliterating my fleet. Twice my cutters have sought entrance to Fairloch's harbour, and both times they have been burned to the waterline by a brilliant lance of light, a weapon I am sure you remember quite vividly."

Aiden was momentarily speechless, caught off guard by the sudden confirmation of his long-held suspicions. He stared at Criosa, who couldn't look him in the eye. Instead, she stared at the floor, downcast at the revelation of her father's betrayal. Nellise seemed similarly thunderstruck.

"I see you recognise the signs," Osric remarked. "Your efforts to destroy that damnable thing have resulted in your former king falling prey to the allure of its power. Perhaps you chose poorly, for had you remained loyal to your father, the war will surely be won by Aielund now he has mastered the operation of the relic."

"We wanted it destroyed along with the ending of the war," Nellise explained. "It is too much power for one person to wield, and as Aiden warned us, has a corrupting influence upon those who use it. Its threat is as real as ever, and I do not think he will stop with the destruction of Tulsone."

"So now you see the magnitude of the problem we face," Osric finished simply, sitting back down in his throne. "You wish to offer your services to fight, but unless you have some means to destroy it, your offer is worthless."

"We can do it," Aiden said, "but it requires the use of a staff, the one which was used to stop it the first time. The only trouble is..."

"Yes?" prompted the young king.

"It is in the possession of King Seamus' wizard, Terinus," Aiden added without enthusiasm. At the mention of his name, Osric rolled his eyes.

"This man is known to us," he grumbled. "Were it not for his influence, we might have thwarted the Aielish invasion of our lands in the first place. You have walked through this city and seen the ruins. Terinus was responsible for much of the destruction, either directly or indirectly. If this staff is necessary, then the task you describe is almost as insurmountable, as facing the Ironlord empty-handed. The man wields the most powerful arcane forces my own practitioners have ever encountered."

"I believe we can deal with him," Aiden assured Osric. "It's likely he'll keep the device in his tower, in northeast Aielund. I'm prepared to lead an assault, but we'll need equipment and provisions."

"You are not wrong about that," Osric remarked, taking in their roughshod appearance once more. "Your offer intrigues me. Again, the possibility of your betrayal, or that this is some kind of elaborate trick remains, but I will weigh up my options with my advisors. You have travelled far and endured much, and it would be remiss of me not to offer my hospitality."

He pulled a blue cord hanging behind the throne and within moments, a man of advancing years stepped out from a partially hidden doorway and bowed before the king. Osric spoke to him in Tuscara, gesturing to Aiden and the others before addressing them once more.

"You are my guests. My castellan will show you to appropriate accommodation, where you may rest and clean yourselves up. We will speak again when you join me for the evening meal. While your companions rest, perhaps you would join me for a private conversation, Highness?"

"If you wish it, Majesty," Criosa replied with a slight bow of her head. "I will catch up with you all later." Aiden moved to give her a farewell kiss, but she subtly pulled away. Unsure what else to do, he watched her walk alongside the young king as he, along with his elderly advisor, walked off in the opposite direction.

"I will organise supplies and reinforcements for my men," Sir Gaston said. "My duty must come first, so I may not see you again before you leave. If this is the case, it was an honour to meet you all." He offered his hand to Aiden, who gave it a firm shake. The chivalrous knight then bowed and kissed Nellise's hand — much to her delight — and gave Pacian a curt nod before heading back out the main entrance.

"He was not entirely objectionable," the ascetic remarked as he watched the knight leave. "I suppose my time with you is also nearing its end. I'll rest up today, and head out tomorrow morning after I get some proper meditation. I know you don't think much of me, but it's been great seeing you both again, though of course I wish the circumstances could have been different."

"We'll talk again before then, mate," Aiden said as Pacian departed with barely a glance at Nellise. Aiden was lost in worrying thoughts as the castellan escorted them to the guest wing, where they were each given a well-appointed bedroom in which to make themselves comfortable. He was very polite, despite his thick accent, and continued to gesture at Aiden's filthy robe. It finally dawned on him the castellan wanted to wash it, so Aiden pulled it over his head and relinquished it. The man held it at arm's length, as if he were holding a live snake in one hand.

He barked out a series of commands towards the open doorway, and within moments two boys of no more than twelve years of age scurried into the room and began running a hot bath. Aiden sat on the bed in his ragged trousers as they went about their tasks, and once ready they left him to ease himself into the hot water and relax.

Although he hadn't heard anyone enter, when he finally emerged from the bath, he found a set of clean clothes laid out on the large bed. Aiden had barely finished pulling on the plain trousers when someone knocked on the door.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you," Nellise said as she tentatively poked her head into the room.

"It's fine," Aiden assured her. "Come on in." The cleric stepped into the room, wearing a fine green dress, with her hair wet from her own recent bath.

"I know you want to rest, but I just wanted to speak with you for a moment," She said as she sat on the end of the bed. "Your conduct with Lord Carbrey this morning was rather surprising, Aiden. Did you hate the man so much you simply had to beat him half to death like that?"

"He... offended me," Aiden growled, feeling the anger welling within him at the thought. Nellise said nothing, simply gazing at him with her golden eyes. There was no judgement there, yet Aiden suddenly felt ashamed at his unremitting hate. "No, he didn't really deserve it," he finally muttered, fighting the urge to paint the man as some sort of monster, deserving of everything they could inflict upon him.

"Sometimes, lately, I feel so angry it just takes me over. I feel it in my dreams, too — nightly I am plagued by nightmares of conflict and death, along with other emotions I'm not comfortable talking about. It's hard to put into words."

"It's not uncommon, actually," Nellise explained sadly. "I've spoken with several veterans of the war who have returned damaged in both body and mind. Few of them can afford the services offered by the Church, so many are left carrying anger deep within them which they cannot rid themselves of. It's a form of shock, the mind's response to the horrors of war. Given what we've been through, I'm surprised more of us aren't scarred in the same fashion."

"What's your secret?" Aiden asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

"Daily prayer and meditation, just like Pacian," she replied simply. "You have to make an effort to cleanse your mind and body of such impurities before they build up. I can help you with this, though given our situation it might be prudent to wait until we have a few days of peace."

"It'd be nice to have a decent night's sleep for once," Aiden remarked, yawning widely and suddenly remembering he hadn't slept the previous night at all. Nellise blushed for a moment, clearly understanding his reference. "Nel, I recall you once mentioned you had faith that everything would turn out for the best, referring to us as some sort of players in a grand cosmic scheme. It seemed short-sighted and perhaps a little naïve at the time, and frankly I'm still unconvinced. I was wondering..."

"Do I still carry that faith?" Nellise finished the sentence for him. "People are the same, everywhere we go. They go about their lives, looking for peace, love and security. Kings declare wars, but it is the people who are forced to fight them. We are not so different, Aielunders and Tulsonites. They all deserve better, and at its heart, that is what faith should do. It should inspire, improve lives, and bring an end to disharmony." She hesitated for a moment as she appeared to be grappling with something on her mind, and when she continued speaking, it was little more than a whisper.

"Ever since I was imbued with the spirit of Solas Aingeal, I have felt a connection with humanity like never before. I cannot begin to describe the experience, except to say I felt as if part of my soul had reawakened from a long sleep. The Church may have become blinded by politics and ambition, but the core of the faith still lives, so long as people strive to help each other."

"I've observed that the larger an organisation is, the more it tends to stray from its defining purpose," Aiden added cynically.

"Quite so," Nellise agreed. "The Sisters of Clemency here in Tulsone have it right, I think. Keep things simple, the organisation small and stay true to the faith."

"Have you considered joining them?"

"Briefly," Nellise admitted. "Ultimately, I couldn't stand the thought of leaving Aielund in such disarray. I am, after all, a patriot as well as a woman of faith. I haven't given up on the Church yet, either. I shall find a way to reform them, even if I have to drag them kicking and screaming through the streets."

"Now that's something I'd like to see," Aiden chuckled.

"Well, I've taken enough of your time," Nellise finished, standing up and smoothing her dress. I'll leave you to rest, and see you this evening at dinner. Think about what we spoke of, Aiden, and perhaps it will ease your mind."

He nodded his thanks as she left the room, and quietly closed the door behind her. His eyelids drooping, Aiden laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling, hoping to get some rest, free from the accusing stares of the people whose deaths were on his shoulders.

Chapter Nine

"I congratulate you on your resourcefulness," King Osric said to Aiden and the others as they sat at a grand dining table in the palace that evening. Like the rest of the king's home, it was ostentatious and draped in finery. The number of gold statuettes on display could, if sold, pay for the rebuilding of half the city. "To survive execution, then exile in the desert, and still make it this far is simply extraordinary."

"We had help along the way," Aiden answered as he pushed away his empty plate, looking at Sayana. The sorceress sat at the other end of the table, reluctantly participating in the dinner. She had wanted to disappear, until Aiden reminded her that she had already been seen by the king's agents. Besides, she needed a proper feed more than any of them.

Criosa had seen to both Nellise and Sayana's appearance, making sure they were clean and well groomed before dinner. She had spent the better part of an hour brushing the knots out of Sayana's hair. The princess herself wore an old dark green gown on loan from Osric, and sat just to the left of the king, calling upon her experience to appear regal and commanding in the presence of foreign royalty, despite her personal reservations.

Osric seemed bewildered by the women at his table — the man's eyes didn't know who to stare at. Whenever the king ogled Nellise for more than a few seconds, Pacian's eyes narrowed slightly, indicating he still had protective feelings towards her at least.

Also at the table that evening was Osric closest advisor, Maquis Angevin Villeancourt. He old, perhaps in his late fifties and was quiet, hardly saying a word after greeting them. His thinning hair was grey and neatly combed, and his pale eyes watched the proceedings with interest, hinting at a keen mind beneath the calm exterior.

"You are as skilled as you are beautiful, my dear," the king said to Sayana, whose long red hair was swept over one side of her head. "I wish you had revealed yourself earlier. Beauty such as yours should never be hidden, especially from me."

"Sayana did as she felt was necessary, as she always has," Criosa explained to the king before the sorceress could speak. "As I assured you earlier, Osric, we are all dedicated to the task of stopping my father's reign, for all our sakes."

"You have repeated this, many times Criosa," Osric sighed, as if disappointed the conversation had turned to business once more. "You have walked the streets of my city and seen the destruction your father has wrought. Tell me your thoughts on this."

"It was necessary at the time, Osric. Your father was being difficult and refused to let our armies march through your lands. Time was running out, and he had to make a choice."

"Yes, time was running out for Seamus to seize that artifact armour for himself, so that he could continue his plans to conquer the world," Osric remarked, waiting to see what response his words would provoke.

"That is a lie," Criosa warned. "My people fought and died to stop that damnable thing. Don't you dare suggest my father had plans to acquire it for himself."

"And yet here we are, planning his demise. Think what you will, dear Criosa, but your father is even now planning to finish what he started. He has given us a sample of what awaits us by burning our scout ships to the waterline. Soon he will take to the field personally, clad in his invulnerable armour, and destroy us all."

"There's no denying the king has lost his grip on reality," Aiden interjected, "but in the past, he was a good man. If he had never laid his hands on that armour, things would have turned out differently."

"A hypothetical situation at best, Mister Wainwright," Osric pointed out. "Regardless of our reasons, we can all agree he must be stopped, yes? I must admit, I was wary of a trap when you showed up at my door, but my lengthy discussions with the princess have convinced me of your honest intentions." The king leaned back in his chair, holding a snifter of some exotic beverage in his hand. "I know you've had a long journey, but I wanted to inform you of my decision before you retire for the evening."

"It seems clear you're going to support our plan," Aiden remarked, hiding his irritation. Something about Osric's mannerisms set him on edge, and the king's close proximity to Criosa wasn't helping.

"No, you are going to support my plan," Osric corrected. "Long have I sought an opportunity to strike at the heart of Aielund, and their recent change in strategy has only added to my impatience. Were it not for the Ironlord's recent appearance on the battlefield, I would commit all of my forces to this task. Your idea to seize the device capable of neutralizing that threat has convinced me to go ahead with this plan."

"What change of strategy are you referring to?" Aiden inquired uncertainly.

"You have been out of touch, so I understand your confusion," Osric sympathised. "Lord Angevin can explain."

"Thank you, Majesty," the Maquis replied with a slight incline of his head. It was the first time he had spoken since joining them at the table. "The few remaining Aielish naval vessels have pulled back to defend the entrance to Fairloch harbour, and patrols along the eastern border have ceased completely. Only in the south were Aielish forces continuing to press the attack, but with your intervention their efforts were thwarted. With Lord Carbrey in our hands, the southern front is bereft of leadership, and is secure for the time being, so it is an ideal time to take the offensive."

"With what, exactly?" Aiden asked. "Old men and boys? Your military is as gutted as Aielund's, and you don't have the funds to maintain your cities, let alone pay for some sort of lightning strike against Fairloch."

"We have recently acquired a new source of income which has enabled us to fill out the ranks of our army with mercenary companies from the south," Angevin explained delicately. "They have only just arrived at the eastern front, awaiting the order to strike."

"Where exactly have you found this sudden wealth?" Aiden asked suspiciously.

"There was a resource available to my father he refused to exploit to our benefit," Osric replied cryptically. "You don't need to know any further details. Please, go on, Angevin." Aiden and Criosa exchanged a glance at this, knowing full well that something much deeper was going on behind the scenes.

"We have hired a small fleet of mercenary warships to bolster our navy," the maquis explained, "and they will move on Culdeny while our army attacks from the south. Once Culdeny is secure, we will move over the mountains to Fairloch and assault the city from land and sea."

"This is your great plan?" Aiden scoffed. "You can only approach Culdeny from the south if you take Fort Highmarch, and if you could manage that feat, your forces would be too depleted to take Culdeny."

"There is another way into your country, Mister Wainwright, one you have perhaps overlooked," Angevin remarked. Aiden stared at the maquis for a long moment before coming to an insane realisation.

"The Fens?" he whispered. "You can't be serious."

"We send raiding parties through the swamps all the time, as do the Aielish," Angevin pointed out. "Some losses are... acceptable."

"Raiding parties, sure, but not entire armies," Aiden retorted. "To take Culdeny you'd need thousands of men, and siege engines. You're not getting all that, plus their supplies through ten miles of the wildest swamp in the north. There are legends of all manner of dangerous creatures living in the Fens. Taking Highmarch would be easier."

"Nevertheless, our front-line commanders assure us it can be done with minimal losses," Angevin calmly insisted. "After many months of learning the paths of the Fens, they know the best route to take, and assure me we can get all of our supplies through as well. I have decided it's our best way forward. And the beauty of it is, they will never see it coming."

"It is likely they will not assume you have taken leave of your senses," Criosa remarked dourly. "How do we fit into this grand scheme?"

"You will go through the Fens with our main force and help secure Bracksford," Angevin explained to Aiden. "From there, you can embark towards your objective while the army moves north to take Culdeny. When you have acquired the staff, you will meet up with the main force somewhere south of Fairloch and use it against the Ironlord. Once it is disabled, leave the rest to us."

"Should this plan succeed," Nellise said delicately, "and indeed we all hope it brings about an end to the conflict, what then? Do you plan to annex Aielund?"

"Most certainly not," Osric replied, setting his glass down on the table. "We do not have the capacity to occupy a foreign nation without continuing to pay those mercenaries, and we aren't quite that well off. Already too many of our countrymen have fallen in the war. Fields lay untended throughout my kingdom, and we cannot allow this conflict to extend through another season without famine gripping both of our lands."

"So, you want to end the war and then leave Aielund," Pacian stated. "No looting, no pillaging... simply let us destroy the Ironlord and withdraw?"

"It is as simple as you say," Osric nodded. "I must, of course, demand some measure of compensation for the war, but this can be handled afterward. Criosa and I will come to some sort of financial arrangement agreeable to both our nations, and that will be that."

"Ah, there it is," Pacian said with a mirthless grin.

"You think there should be no punishment for losing a war?" Osric challenged. "There are always consequences, my priestly friend. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"Consequences beget consequences," Pacian pointed out. "By taking that action, you will be instilling hatred for Tulsone into the people of Aielund, planting the seeds for future conflict. Why become the oppressive tyrant when you could be the benevolent saviour? Both countries are served by ending the war."

"We did not start this conflict!" Osric almost shouted. "There will be restitution for our losses, or my own people will direct their hatred towards Aielund, to say nothing of me for appearing weak. Do you see? Future wars cannot be avoided, but at least I can ensure a rapid recovery for my people." The king calmed down once more, almost embarrassed by his outburst. Pacian disengaged as well, leaning back in his chair and appearing to be deep in thought.

"So, there you have it, our plan for victory and peace," Angevin said to fill in the awkward silence. "With your aid, we really can end this conflict once and for all and return to a more peaceful co-existence. What say you?"

Aiden sat back in his chair and thought about all he'd heard. It was everything they'd hoped to gain from this meeting and more, and if all went well, they could end the war within weeks. If it didn't go well, Tulsone would be vulnerable to attack and Seamus would take advantage of it to counter-attack, probably ending the war. Either way, this was going to come to an end in the next few weeks.

"I'm intrigued by this mysterious source of income you refuse to speak of," he mused. "I'd say it all seemed a little too perfect, except for the part about travelling through the Fens. You're underestimating the danger involved."

"Have you travelled through them yourself?" Osric asked with a dark look in his eyes.

"No, and sane people generally do not, but—"

"Then you cannot say for certain if the legends of its dangers are true, or merely the superstitious ravings of peasants," Osric stated coldly. "Our rangers have braved the depths of the Fens for years, and while there are reports of powerful beasts dwelling within, the risks are and always have been acceptable." Silence fell over the table, for while his words seemed reasonable, it was the manner in which he spoke them that filled the air with tension.

"The plan is bold, I grant you, but there is no gain without risk," Angevin intervened once more. "I'm afraid it all hinges on you, however. If you cannot secure the staff from the black wizard, it will all be for naught."

"And if you say you can deal with Terinus, then the Fens hold nothing to be afraid of," Osric pointed out, his voice returning to a more pleasant tone once again. "I do hate to pressure you, but I need an answer here and now. Preparations must be made, one way or the other."

"Well, this is what we came here for," Nellise conceded, drawing the same conclusion as Aiden. "What can the Fens contain that we have not faced before?"

"I am less concerned for our lives, and more concerned about the simple logistics of moving wagons and horses through," Aiden said. "Your generals had better be right about some sort of path, or it could be a long and painful week to get them through."

"The man you speak of is General Sir Gabriel Duquesne, my senior field commander," Osric replied. "I trust his opinion implicitly."

"We need to do this, and quickly" Criosa advised. "Aielish forces could redeploy within days if we fail to act."

"You are planning to go with them?" Osric asked her curiously.

"Of course. They are my closest friends, and I could not in all conscience allow them to go into harm's way without me. And I must confront my father, in the hope he can be redeemed."

"As heir to Aielund's throne, your place should not be on the front lines," he suggested. "Wait here with me until we receive word of the mission's success, and we can travel to Fairloch together to pick up the pieces."

"I can't sit here for weeks, not knowing if my friends are alive or not. I must go with them," Criosa insisted.

"Your heart is set on it, this much I can tell," Osric murmured.

"I think she's answered for all of us," Aiden agreed. "We'll do it."

"Excellent," Osric exclaimed. "I have ordered our quartermaster to provide you with the equipment you require, such as weapons and armour, which you can choose from tomorrow morning. For now, I shall leave you all to rest. Lord Angevin, send out the word — the operation is to commence at sunrise."

"As you wish, Majesty," he said with a bow to the king and the guests, before departing. As he walked out, four servants entered through a service doorway and began clearing the remnants of dinner.

"I will see you all here for breakfast, before you set out on your glorious campaign," Osric instructed Aiden and the others. "Goodnight."

Aiden and the rest bid the king a goodnight, then returned to their guest chambers.

"That went well, I thought," Criosa declared as she closed the door. Aiden rolled over and looked up at her, her golden hair lit by a single burning lantern.

"You're staying in my room tonight?" he mumbled. "Thought you'd prefer to sleep alone or something."

"How can you say that?" Criosa wondered, starting down at him.

"You were acting strangely today, that's all," Aiden mumbled.

"Oh, yes of course," she said as she began to undress. "I didn't want Osric to know of our involvement. He can be insanely jealous you know — emphasis on 'insane'. I needed him to be compliant."

"I think I caught a glimpse of his temper this evening."

"Osric was never really prone to fits of anger, although it has been some time since we met," Criosa conceded. "He might be harbouring some unresolved feelings from the death of his father, but he can be a bit of a monster in other ways." She slipped between the sheets and nudged Aiden to do the same. He took off his tunic and trousers and joined her under the blankets.

"What do you mean?" he mumbled as he put his arms around her.

"Do you recall seeing any female servants in the palace?" she suggested. Aiden thought about it for a long moment, for his sleepy mind was slowly slipping away.

"No, though I might have missed some. I wasn't really paying attention. What's your point?"

"Angevin confided to me he actively prevented any women from working in the palace, because for the first year of Osric's reign, they had a habit of disappearing into the dungeons." Aiden's eyes snapped open, and he found himself staring into her eyes.

"Do you get the feeling we might be allying ourselves with one monster in order to defeat another?" he whispered. Criosa didn't answer as she rolled over and extinguished the lantern, leaving Aiden to briefly dwell on the implications before he fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

The sky was clear and bright early the next morning as Aiden and his companions emerged from the palace with their new equipment, before joining the assembled soldiers ready to embark to the eastern front. Criosa had selected leather skirts which offered protection without cooking her legs in the summer heat. Nellise and Sayana were armoured in plated steel, with the cleric also wearing a sturdy visored helmet and carrying a Tulsonite double crossbow over her shoulder.

In addition to a plain singlesword, Aiden had also chosen to go with heavier armour, but honestly didn't know how the armoured knights who had joined the expedition could stand being encased in full plate under the summer sun. Aiden wore his armour over Desmond's old robe, which the palace cleaners had worked their own kind of magic on.

Gone were the stains and strange aroma of ingredients contained within its many hidden pockets, along with the holes poked in the fabric by the arrows which had taken Desmond's life. What remained was a clean garment lined with arcane runes on the inner sleeves and hemline. Now they were clear of grime and dirt, Aiden was finally able to read the sigils and was astonished to discover the true nature of the robe's enchantment.

The sigils were almost incomprehensible, and that alone hinted at their purpose — all but the most powerful incantations directed at the wearer would effectively be scrambled by the chaotic inscriptions and dispersed harmlessly. Terinus probably knew of this, which is why he hadn't directly attacked Desmond during his valiant final act at the execution. Unfortunately, the robe offered no protection against arrows, or Aiden's mentor would still be alive.

Shoving those grim thoughts aside, Aiden took stock of the force King Osric the Slightly Insane had assembled. Horses were at a premium in Tulsone, as in Aielund, so only the twenty chevaliers travelling at the front of the column sat upon the mighty armoured beasts, including the impractically equipped General Sir Gabriel Duquesne.

Aiden had only met him briefly after breakfast, and found the man to be stiff and formal to a fault. His moustache was crisp, and his sharp brown eyes rarely seemed to blink. He was of advancing years and seemed better suited to a parade ground than a grim front-line military command. Nevertheless, he had survived numerous engagements with the Aielish forces over the past two years, and was considered to be the foremost military mind in the land.

Three hundred infantry comprised the bulk of the force, which seemed inadequate to conduct a siege of Fairloch, let alone take Bracksford and Culdeny as well. The majority of the soldiers would barely count as men, while more than a few of the others seemed on the verge of retirement. It was the usual mix they'd seen in the military of both countries, except there were at least a hundred grizzled mercenaries in amongst it all. And to Aiden's surprise, there were twenty of the palace guard present within the soldier's ranks, equipped with the finest gear.

"At least Osric is willing to part with his personal guards," Pacian remarked to Aiden.

"It means he's fully committed to the success of this mission, even if he leaves himself personally more vulnerable," Aiden added, glancing at the robed ascetic briefly. "You look like you're ready to travel. Have you decided where you're going?"

"As I've said before, I'll be returning to the monastery in the Valley of Silence," Pacian confided, "but as to whether or not I'll be going along with your group... that's not my decision to make." Aiden looked towards the rear of the column, and saw Nellise and the other ladies stowing their equipment on a wagon set aside just for their group.

"I think she might be warming up to you," he suggested to his old friend. "Nellise is the wisest person I've ever met. If you ask for her forgiveness, she'd probably give it."

"The only reason I'm here in the first place was to get her out of that dungeon," Pacian reminded him. "Along with you, of course."

"Of course," Aiden replied blandly.

"Now you're all safe, I should probably disappear before I rub someone the wrong way. It's still a little too soon for me to be out in the world. I'd promised to return to the monastery within the week, and it's been months. I'll be in enough trouble as it is."

"Leaving us now isn't going to change that," Aiden pointed out, suddenly becoming tired of skirting the issue Pacian seemed to be trying to avoid. "Look, it's obvious to me you've changed over the years. Frankly, we'd be dead by now if not for your help, so don't think you have to run away before we suddenly turn on you. Things may never be the same between us, but you have my respect, and I think the others feel the same way."

"What are you saying?"

"You're travelling in the same direction we are," Aiden said plainly. "I'm sure we've enough room in the wagon for you to ride along. Besides," he added, lowering his voice, "this trip through the Fens isn't going to be a picnic. No matter which way you swing it, we're going to need all the help we can get to survive."

"I've heard there are giant alligators in there, but a force of this size should be able to hammer its way through," Pacian suggested warily. "Crossbows should make short work of them and any other beasties you'll run into."

"You never read about the history of the place, did you?"

"Reading a book? Of course not, I was too busy having fun with girls," Pacian reminded him.

"Well if you had," Aiden continued, trying to ignore the resurfacing of 'old Pacian', "you'd know that no army has made it through the Fens intact since the founding of Aielund," Aiden whispered. "The larger the force, the less likely it is to make it through. There's something else in there besides giant reptiles, Pace, and like it or not we're probably going to find out what it is."

Chapter Ten

Pacian seemed to mull over Aiden's comments, gazing with longing at the wagon where Nellise was settling in. Aiden felt for the man. No matter what his feelings were for Nellise, Pacian's crimes would surely prevent them ever getting back together. He had made his choices, and now he had to live with them.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to ride along for a few days," the ascetic finally conceded. "But if they have an objection, I'm telling them it was your idea."

"Your dedication to the truth is to be commended," Aiden drawled. Pacian clapped him on the shoulder before heading towards the wagon, and Aiden was about to accompany him when he noticed a few oxen bringing up the rear, each of which was latched to a low, narrow wagon.

A huge, cylindrical shape loomed beneath a thick grey tarp, easily three yards in length. Large barrels were being carefully loaded by several strong men onto a wagon right in front of the oxen. When Aiden went to pull back the tarp, a strong hand grabbed onto his arm.

"I'll thank ye not to peek under there mate," a familiar voice advised. Aiden turned to see a stocky man of dwarven heritage, and his plaited beard and deep baritone brought back memories of the battle of Fort Highmarch.

"Gordon MacTavish?" Aiden exclaimed in surprise. The stout dwarven engineer raised an eyebrow at the mention of his name but had to pause a moment to figure out who he was.

"Ah, the lord o' Highmarch," he chortled, offering his gloved hand to Aiden. "I'd heard you were about. Good to see you again, mate."

"Former lord, but you're not far off the mark," Aiden replied with a hearty handshake. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, before you go getting bent outta shape, I'll point out that I'm not representing the Kingdom of Stonegaard or its people in any way," Gordon hedged. "I'm here in my own capacity, offerin' me advice and expertise to—"

"The enemy?" Aiden suggested.

"Aye, but the enemy of my enemy—"

"—is my friend, yes I'm familiar with the expression," Aiden remarked. "I've been out of Aielund for a couple of months now though, so I'm not up to date on the latest goings-on."

"Can't say I am either, but I'll tell you what brought me out here," the engineer responded. "The Aielish king started to demand rent from Stonegaard, seeing as how me Kingdom's inside their borders."

"What?" Aiden interrupted. "Those lands were given to your people, decades ago."

"Yer preachin' to the choir, lad," Gordon chuckled. "Naturally, me cousin, King Sulinus MacTavish, had a few things to say about it and after a few weeks, Aielund sent a force to 'persuade' us to hand over the money. And that's when I collapsed the entrance in spectacular fashion."

"Stonegaard is cut off from the rest of the world?" Aiden asked.

"Aye, unless King Seamus wants to start digging," Gordon said grimly. "I calculated roughly three thousand tons of granite is blocking the entrance, and not even his fancy relic armour can burn through that."

"You hope," Aiden muttered, all too familiar with the power of the Ironlord's lance of fire. The memory of being struck by its brilliant light flashed through his mind and he physically flinched, and had to take a moment to steady himself against the large cylinder.

"Are ya alright lad?" Gordon asked with concern.

"Yes, I'm fine," Aiden responded as he caught his breath, and tried to push away the horrors in his mind. "So, what are these things anyway?" he said to change the subject.

"Our secret weapon," the engineer explained, still looking at Aiden with a measure of caution. One of the workers lifting barrels onto the wagon slipped and nearly dropped one, causing Gordon to almost jump out of his boots.

"Watch it, watch it!" he bellowed. "Lift 'em like you were holdin' yer own child ya daft buggers. I dinna think they can even understand me," he confided to Aiden, who sympathised with the confused looking Tulsonite men. "That's the way lads, ease 'em up nice and slow and we'll all live to see tomorrow."

"I have some idea what's in those barrels," Aiden remarked, recalling the devastating explosive power of their contents. "These strange wagons though... if I had to guess, I'd say they were some sort of siege weapon, but they seem a little small."

"You'll get a demonstration afore our mission is done, of that ye can be sure," Gordon assured him grimly. "I hate t'be rude but I gotta keep a close eye on these lads or they'll blow us sky-high."

"You live life on the edge, Gordon," Aiden remarked with a ghost of a smile. "I'll leave you to it." The engineer rolled his eyes and went to assist his team in loading the dangerous goods, while Aiden climbed aboard the other wagon with the rest of his companions and settled in for a bumpy ride.

Within a few minutes the convoy set out, rumbling through the streets of the city to the lukewarm cheers of nearby citizens. It was a grim procession, with the gravity of their mission keenly felt by every man. Before long, they left the confines of the urban landscape and set out along the eastern road, trundling past more empty fields which gave way to a magnificent view of the distant coastline.

The day warmed as the sun peaked high overhead, but the sea breeze made it quite tolerable. After a short pause to rest near midday, the convoy left the highway and continued east. Only a thin trail guided them through the increasingly rough landscape, as they left civilisation behind and entered the frontier lands of the country.

Aiden found himself nodding off on Criosa's shoulder on more than one occasion, much to her amusement. More images of the Battle of Highmarch flashed through his sleeping mind, but when he jolted awake towards the evening, he couldn't recall anything specific, save for a feeling of helplessness.

They set up camp in a clearing bordered by tall, thin trees. Although still several miles from the edge of the Fens themselves, the ground underfoot was already spongy and damp, and a musty, earthy smell was in the air.

Tired from their long march, the infantry turned in shortly after setting up their tents, but Aiden wasn't really sleepy, having rested for several hours earlier in the day. He leaned back against a nearby tree and gazed at the stars overhead, silently contemplating the turn of events leading to their current situation. Aiden suddenly noticed Sayana sitting beside him.

"Can't sleep?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"There's something on my mind," she whispered back, getting straight to the topic. "In the recent battle at the outpost, you created a layer of spectral armour around yourself out of sheer willpower."

"And good evening to you too," Aiden drawled. "Yes, you may recall I had a magic belt a while back."

"But you didn't need it this time."

"No, apparently I can figure out how to duplicate the effects of most relics, once I've used them a few times," Aiden explained. "It was certainly the most demanding act of sorcery I've ever managed."

"Your talent is far different to mine," she mused. "You've seen me duplicate full incantations, not just from relics but from inscriptions too. Criosa has been a font of inspiration." Aiden nodded, unsure where this conversation was heading. "I've seen you create a shield," Sayana continued, "and the spectral armour, alter your vision to see at night like those goggles you used to have... but not once have you duplicated the strength of the gauntlet you once used."

"The one that was destroyed at Highmarch, yes," he replied, looking down at his right hand, the one with the missing ring finger.

"You have tried to then?"

"Of course," Aiden explained. "That gauntlet was the most powerful relic I've ever encountered, granting me the strength of ten men. So yes, I tried to duplicate the effects, but it didn't work at all."

"Because there was no word to speak," Sayana suggested.

"I think that was the reason, yes," Aiden agreed.

"The staff Terinus used to open the Ironlord's hatch worked in the same fashion," the sorceress continued. "No words, simply applying pressure to markings on the item. It seems to be a quality unique to relics from the ancient ones who created them. No other form of magical device I've encountered functions without a spoken word from the person wielding it."

"What about the staff you once had, the one you lost in Trinity?" Aiden pointed out. "I never heard you speak a command word to wield it."

"I whisper my commands with barely more than a breath," she answered. "But the other relics from the ancients don't work in the same manner at all."

"Evidently not," Aiden agreed impatiently. "Is it important?"

"My markings are from the same creators," Sayana reminded him. "Magic that is not magic. An entirely different way of manipulating power, Aiden. That is why you cannot duplicate it."

"You've been thinking about this for a while, haven't you," Aiden remarked, quietly impressed with her deductions.

"I have had plenty of time to ponder many things," Sayana affirmed. "I look forward to speaking with my cousins in Acadia about this."

"Should we make it through the Fens, we could be in Acadia within days," Aiden suggested. "By the way, if we should encounter anything truly dangerous in the swamps..."

"You want me to kill it," she finished. "Understand, Aiden, that my reluctance to use sorcery stems not only from taking lives, but from harming innocents and allies unintentionally. An army in the midst of a swamp fighting an unknown threat sounds like the worst possible time to unleash my power."

"Should we come under attack from a horde of swamp monsters, I think you might have to," Aiden cautioned. "This is a very small force to be attacking a city like Culdeny, and I suspect they're relying on Gordon's explosive barrels to push through. If we lose too many men in the Fens, the entire mission will be in jeopardy."

Sayana seemed to think this over in silence for a long moment, but to his disappointment, she soon stood and walked into the forest, fading into invisibility as she went.

"Damn," Aiden whispered to himself, realising he was pushing her as far and as fast as he could. It was too much to expect her to overcome her fears so quickly, and he had to be patient. Settling in near the fire, he contemplated what they had spoken of and wondered if he would ever find the truth about the strange relics, and the extinct people who had created them.

Before he turned in for the night, he noticed Pacian and Nellise, both meditating in prayer. They knelt on the soft ground yards apart with the crackling fire between them, unaware they were both praying to the same god at the same time. Aiden thought it ironic that after all their adventures together years ago, and months of unrequited longing, they had never been more compatible than they were now. The path Pacian had taken to reach this point, however, ensured they also had never been further apart.

* * *

They set out at dawn with a sense of grim purpose in the air. It wasn't the prospect of facing enemy soldiers which had the men of the expedition tense, however. Rumours spread through the column of horrifying stories survivors of the Fens told upon their return to civilisation, and the younger, inexperienced soldiers grew fearful at the prospect of entering the swamps.

Around them, the land grew more swamp-like, with ponds of stagnant water and thicker brush hinting at what was to come. Some of the supply wagons had already become bogged in the muddier sections of the trail, and their progress slowed to a crawl. When General Duquesne called for a halt before midday, Aiden had finally had enough. He climbed down from the back of the wagon and made his way toward the front of the column to find out if the man knew where he was going.

He walked past plenty of nervous soldiers, all of whom seemed to take the sudden stop as a bad omen. The reason for the delay became apparent when Aiden saw a group of ten men, all equipped in camouflaged leathers and bearing Tulsonite double crossbows, gathered around the front of the column. Sir Gabriel was speaking to them in their native language, and Aiden wished he'd brought Criosa along to translate. A moment later he realised it wouldn't be necessary.

"I asked for twice this number," a familiar, grizzled voice said to the general in Aielish. "If your king thinks a few hundred men are going to win the war for him, he's even madder than everyone thinks he is."

"Do not speak ill of my liege, mercenary," Sir Gabriel snarled in a heavy accent, "Your vaunted experience will not save you from the noose."

"And then who will save your country?" Robert Black, mercenary and one of Aiden's former companions asked. "I appreciate the king has placed a lot of faith in your command, but this isn't a training operation. We do this my way, or you can turn this little procession around, and go back to practicing parade marches."

The general glared down at Robert, who had apparently not changed in the two years since Aiden had last seen him. His hair showed a little more grey around the temples, and there was another wrinkle or two around his eyes, one of which was still covered by a black eye patch. He wore the same leathers as his comrades, but in addition to his crossbow there was a sword and shield strapped to his back, and his torso was protected by an breastplate.

"The king has entrusted me with the success of this mission, and I will not cede command to you, sir," the general declared. "I will listen to your advice and act upon it, should I deem it worthy."

"Of course you will," Robert grunted. The way he looked at the general, Aiden could only assume they had a history together.

"We will discuss our plans tonight, before tackling the Fens," Sir Gabriel said with finality. "If the way ahead is clear, have the pathfinders guide us in, Commander Black." Robert gave him a lazy salute and gestured to his companions to do as ordered.

"There's nothing between us and the border," he informed the general. "For whatever reason, they've pulled back their patrols and scouting parties over the past week."

"Excellent," Sir Gabriel purred, as if his plans were all falling into place. With a signal to his men, he nudged his huge warhorse forward, and the column slowly began to advance. Aiden stood to one side to allow others to pass, and Robert almost went right past him without recognition. He froze in place, and then turned around to stare at Aiden.

"Robert," Aiden greeted him laconically. The mercenary continued to stare at him with his one eye as the pathfinders passed him by.

"I'll be damned," he breathed. "I heard you were going to be executed, but managed to make a daring escape. But I never expected you to show up here of all places, Aiden."

"I like to keep people guessing," Aiden drawled, offering his hand, which Robert shook firmly.

"Good to see you again, and in one piece," the mercenary remarked. "So, you're a traitor then. How's that working out for you?"

"My life expectancy has greatly increased, but the pay is terrible."

"You should try being a mercenary then," Robert chuckled. "You'll find those two facts end up reversed."

"You seem to be doing well enough," Aiden remarked. "I take it you were hired to bolster Osric's numbers on the front line?"

"Along with half the mercenary companies in Trinity, yeah. Tulsone was on the verge of bankruptcy, and then all of a sudden Osric's throwing gold around like nobody's business. There's something shady going on with that one, mark my words."

"Consider them marked," Aiden replied ruefully. "What about the general? You two seem to have some issues."

"He's a bureaucrat, not a proper soldier, and he doesn't care for mercenaries in the slightest," Robert grunted. "He's good at logistics, though, I'll give him that. Between the two of us, we should get through the Fens more or less intact."

"Wait... this plan was your idea," Aiden said with sudden realisation.

"Of course it was, none of the officers or military experts in either country would have even considered it," Robert replied. "They're too set in their ways."

"With good reason," Aiden pointed out. "You really think you can get hundreds of men and their equipment through that quagmire?"

"I know I can," Robert assured him. "I've been working with the Tulsonites ever since I left the wastelands, and I've spent most of the last year roaming around the Fens, skirmishing with the Aielunders time and again. This is the right time of year and the best time of month to attempt a large crossing, when the waters are at their lowest. One day is all it'll take, and the enemy will never see us coming."

"I like your confidence," Aiden mused. "I just hope it isn't misplaced."

"It's not the landscape I'm worried about mate, it's the inhabitants," Robert confided. "But with Gordon's engines and that explosive powder of his, I'm confident we can deal with whatever the Fens can throw at us." He looked Aiden up and down as if seeing him for the first time. "Interesting choice of attire. I'd say you looked like a wizard, but I've never seen one armoured like you are. Well, except for..."

"Sayana," Aiden finished. "Yes, she's here too."

"What?"

"Along with Nellise, Criosa... even Pacian," Aiden continued.

"I can't believe Sy came with you," Robert breathed, his typical confidence replaced by sudden uncertainty. "Is she okay?"

"You can ask her yourself. She's riding in our wagon near the rear of the column."

"She's not mad at me, is she?"

"I honestly don't know," Aiden said with a shrug. "I think she has a lot more to deal with than your choice to leave her in the middle of the desert. By herself. For months." Robert seemed to consider the implications for a moment.

"I'll talk with her later, I promise," he assured Aiden as he started walking backwards, following the course of the marching soldiers. "The terrain starts getting hazardous up ahead and I'll need to lead them through it."

"Hey, I thought you could speak Tuscara?" Aiden asked hurriedly, finding it odd Robert and Sir Gabriel had been speaking in Aielish.

"Don't let anyone know that," Robert growled, looking around to make sure nobody else caught that piece of information. "I like to hear Gabe talk about me when he thinks I can't understand. He's terrible at swearing, even in his native language. I'll see you at the meeting with the general tonight." Before Aiden could say anything further, Robert turned and jogged to catch up with the vanguard.

On his way back to the wagon, Aiden contemplated keeping the encounter with Robert a secret, but knew they would eventually run into him. Once he climbed back into the wagon, it seemed prudent to inform the others of the mercenary's presence. Nellise merely raised an eyebrow, while Sayana looked at Aiden in disbelief.

"Of all the places he could end up, it had to be here," she muttered as a flash of raw emotion swept over her face. If Aiden had any doubts as to lingering feelings between the two, they had just been removed.

"You'd think the man had seen enough bloodshed in his life," Criosa remarked dourly. "Still, it's reassuring to know there's some competence in the leadership of this expedition. Sir Gabriel doesn't exactly inspire one with confidence."

"I'm not sure how much influence Robert has," Aiden warned. "Sir Gabriel doesn't seem overly fond of the man."

"I can't imagine why," Sayana muttered. As the wagon trundled along the uneven ground, Aiden noticed Nellise sitting near the front, looking straight ahead with an unreadable expression on her face. Turning to see what she was gazing at, Aiden was transfixed by the sudden appearance of their destination.

Their wagon crested a low rise and before them was the edge of the Fens. Logging had reduced many trees to mere stumps in the surrounding lands, but the sparse landscape ended abruptly at a wall of thick, intertwining trees, covered in endless vines. A vague path seemed to wend its way into the Fens, which happened to be where Robert was leading the column. Even in the swampy conditions they had endured for the past few hours, the change ahead seemed abrupt, as if the lumberjacks had reached a point they would not cross.

"I hope we know what we're doing," Aiden said to Nellise as they looked at the ominous path ahead.

"I know it's the only way forward," Nellise replied in a hushed voice, "but I have a sense of deep foreboding I cannot ignore. This is going to be far more dangerous than any of us realise." As the wagon passed through the gap, the sun vanished behind a thick canopy of tangled trees, lending dire weight to her words.

What started as an easy journey through the countryside rapidly turned into a disaster waiting to happen. The air was filled with the calls of strange birds, and large insects flitted about, adding to the discomfort of the travellers, who were also dealing with intense humidity.

The road — if it could be called as such — was reduced to a thick quagmire which sucked at the boots of everyone walking through it. They had travelled barely a hundred yards through the slop, when the wagon Aiden and his companions rode in became bogged, forcing them to climb down and try to dislodge it.

Both Aiden and Pacian enlisted the aid of a few soldiers with the work, heaving with all their might to push it forward. It was difficult to gain any purchase as their feet slipped and skidded across the slimy surface under the pressure. Eventually, the stubborn wagon escaped from its muddy prison and they were able to climb aboard once again, with the two men half-covered in mud.

"You two can stay towards the rear, if you don't mind," Criosa suggested delicately as her face twisted in revulsion. "I don't know what's in that mud, but it smells like it died a long time ago."

"This 'path' of Robert's looks like it's usually underwater," Aiden remarked, ignoring her comment. "We appear to be travelling a partially dry creek bed."

"I've never seen anything like this stuff," Pacian added, trying to scrape the thick mud off his hands on the side of the wagon. "It's like molasses and dirt got together and had a baby."

"Why aren't we moving?" Sayana cautioned, trying to peer ahead through the tangle of green.

"I'd wager the entire convoy is having difficulty with it," Aiden muttered. "If the whole journey is going to be like this, Robert's going to be facing a riot by evening." Even as he spoke, the wagon driver shook the reins and set the pair of oxen moving forward once again, but with far more caution this time.

Nevertheless, careful driving was unable to avoid another calamity, and the wagon squelched into another rut only minutes later, forcing the occupants to disembark once more. This time their strength proved inadequate to the task, and upon investigation, it seemed the wheels were being blocked by a thick tree root, barely visible in the muddy conditions.

Gordon produced a small hand axe and chopped away at the root, until it was clear enough for the wheels to pass the obstruction. With another heave, the engineer, Aiden and Pacian managed to get it rolling once more, but they had to fight the urge to swear long and loud to vent their frustrations. When they became mired yet again a few hundred yards further along, he couldn't hold his mouth in check any longer.

This time, they were the only ones to hold up the convoy. A red-faced Tulsonite officer appeared from ahead, barking orders at the wagon's driver and gesturing at his eyes. Criosa was the only one of their company who could speak the language, and she summarised the lengthy dialog in a few short words.

"The esteemed officer is questioning the eyesight of our driver," she sighed, "and we've been ordered to abandon the wagon. Please move it to one side so the siege engines can pass by, then we're walking the rest of the journey I'm afraid." Aiden managed to stifle a groan as they shouldered their supplies, and with great reluctance climbed down into the mud.

By the time the wagon was unhitched and clear of the trail, hours had passed and they were less than a mile into the Fens. He was already tired and sore from digging their wagon out of the mire several times, and now had to battle the sticky ground for every step he took. The ladies took the sudden lack of transportation stoically, even if it appeared Criosa's skin was crawling at the appalling conditions.

The heat was stifling, and the mud on Aiden's clothes and hands quickly dried, leaving him caked in the stuff. He needn't have worried, however, for it didn't take long before Gordon's siege engines became mired in the bog and he helped push a wagon clear. The sheer amount of effort required to travel every yard was daunting, and the ten-mile journey through the Fens suddenly seemed an insurmountable distance.

It was with great relief when they finally left the creek bed behind and walked upon solid ground again. Their progress improved as a definite trail could be seen underfoot, though it was barely a yard wide and surrounded by tangling vines. Sunlight streamed through the narrow gaps in the canopy, sending rays of brilliant light cascading over the rich greenery. It was a beautiful place, in its own way, but Aiden would still be glad to put it all behind him.

The enclosed trail opened out shortly thereafter, turning into the narrow embankment of a stagnant body of water roughly twenty yards across. Aiden wasn't an expert on geography, but it seemed that when the tides subsided, large ponds remained behind, cut off from the receding waters. Aiden was forced to watch his step as they went around the southern edge of the waters, for the ground here was very slippery.

Up ahead, one of the soldiers lost his footing and tumbled down the embankment into the water. It seemed almost comical, and a few of his comrades laughed at the sight. One of them stepped forward gingerly with an outreached hand, but he too slipped and fell, doubling the laughter from the surrounding soldiers who were pleased to have some comic relief after the oppressive atmosphere of the Fens.

Suddenly, the stillness of the water was disrupted as something huge surged beneath the surface. A massive reptilian snout, easily three feet long and lined with razor sharp teeth, burst into the light. A gigantic alligator lunged for the two men, taking them both in the same bite. The waters turned red with blood as the monster thrashed about, tearing them apart in the process.

Those on the bank stumbled backward, trying to get as much distance between themselves and the beast as they could. Criosa screamed at the sight, while Nellise, equally aghast, had the presence of mind to raise her crossbow and loose both bolts into the flank of the alligator.

The monster withdrew deeper into the turgid waters with its prey, though this did nothing to calm the terrified and inexperienced soldiers around them. Officers shouted for the column to keep moving, and the shaken young men amongst the ranks of veterans were pulled to their feet and shoved forward by their peers. In all of the Fens it was entirely possible that dozens of those monsters were hiding beneath the waters, and Aiden's warnings about the place seemed to be coming true.

Chapter Eleven

A strangled cry from ahead set the army on edge again, and the sounds of some sort of commotion drew Aiden's attention. Fearful of another gigantic predator, he rushed ahead with his sword at the ready, and found soldiers hacking away at the vines on the right side of the path.

"What is it?" Aiden shouted, trying to see what was going on. They ignored him and continued chopping away at the plant life, until four of the men were suddenly pulled form their feet and dragged across the ground. Horrified, Aiden saw thick tendrils covered in thorns wrapped around their legs, which were dripping with blood.

Before he could figure out what was going on, Aiden felt a sharp pain in his legs as he was pulled to the ground, almost hitting his head on a sharp rock. His back slid across the muddy ground as he struggled to free himself, but to no avail. Branches cut into him as he was pulled into a thicket, and when he shoved them aside, he was confronted with a fearsome looking maw nearly two feet across, lined with thorns — some sort of predatory plant.

With desperation lending him strength, Aiden slashed his sword at the tendrils holding his legs and managed to cut one free. He kicked out with his free boot and connected with a rock lodged into the muddy earth. He heaved against it and managed to hold himself in place. The tendrils dug into his other leg painfully, but no matter how he thrashed about with his sword, Aiden couldn't seem to free himself.

The plant's maw was over two feet away, well out of his weapon's reach. Desperate to hit the monster where it hurt, Aiden pulled out the wand to invoke a bolt of lightning, but when he spoke the word of command, nothing happened. He had used what little power remained during the last battle, and he tossed aside the useless stick in frustration.

His recent chat with Sayana flashed through his mind and it occurred to Aiden that maybe, just maybe, he could duplicate something as powerful as the wand's lightning. Doing his best to ignore the pain in his leg, he raised his hand towards the plant's gaping maw and spoke the command word again, but this time recalling in his mind how it felt to use the wand.

To his satisfaction, electricity crackled from his fingers and cascaded around the plant, which promptly exploded, showering him with ichor. The pressure on his leg was immediately released, and he tumbled backwards through the scrub to emerge back on the path, and was immediately stepped on by one of the soldiers.
Aiden rolled to one side and climbed back on his feet amidst the chaos. Everyone who could wield a sword was chopping away at the writhing tendrils snaking from the undergrowth, and by the sounds coming from up ahead, the entire column was dealing with the hideous plants. Aiden joined in, slashing and severing the sharp tendrils until there seemed to be no more.

He took a moment to catch his breath and allow the thundering in his chest to subside, feeling a momentary dizziness from invoking powerful sorcery. A few men continued to hack at the surrounding plants, even the ones that weren't moving. The sudden attack had rattled the already nervous recruits, and those who had survived sported vicious wounds on their arms and legs. Nellise and Pacian were already at work, tending to the worst of the wounds with bandages and prayers. Criosa moved to Aiden's side and looked into his eyes with concern.

"You disappeared for a moment there," she whispered. "I thought you might have been taken by those dreadful plants."

"I was, but I put a theory Sayana and I recently spoke of into practice," Aiden answered.

"I heard the lightning," the sorceress confirmed, her hands and dagger covered in the oozing remains of carnivorous plants. "You are becoming stronger all the time."

"Doesn't feel like it at the moment," Aiden grunted, feeling more drained than he had in a long time. "It occurs to me our guide should have known these things were here. I think we should go and have a word with Robert."

"We'll join you shortly," Nellise murmured, sitting in the middle of a group of soldiers whose wounds were slowly healing over in the light of her prayers. Aiden nodded, and then cast an inquiring glance at Sayana.

"We have bigger issues to deal with than our past," she replied to his unspoken question. "Robert and I will speak about our personal matters later, should we survive this damned swamp."

"Good enough," Aiden replied, and along with Sayana and Criosa, began threading his way through the soldiers who were still looking askance at the surrounding vegetation. It took a few minutes for Aiden and the two women to find their way to the front of the column, and the sounds of a heated argument taking place came as little surprise to any of them.

"It sounds like someone's doing our job for us," Criosa remarked as they saw a number of Tulsonite officers discussing the recent encounter with Robert and Sir Gabriel, in their native language. The mercenary was smoking a cigar and glaring balefully at the officers, taking their abuse with relative calm.

"Do you think you can figure out what's going on?" Aiden asked of the princess. She nodded absently as she concentrated on listening in to the conversation.

"They're furious about the lack of warnings concerning the plant life," Criosa said. "They're not unknown to the Tulsonites apparently — they call them 'Dent plantes', meaning 'teeth', naturally. Robert hasn't answered anyone yet, as they're too busy hurling abuse at him." The mercenary patiently waited for the officers to vent their frustration, and seemed unperturbed by their vitriol.

His eye glanced in their direction and drifted onto Sayana, the two of them staring at each other for a moment. Robert gestured for all three of them to come closer, and when they were standing amidst the assembled officers, Robert finally had a chance to speak.

"I'll be saying this in Aielish for the benefit of our allies, so if you can't follow what I'm saying, ask one of your smarter friends to translate," Robert began, managing to thread an insult into the first few seconds.

"As I said at the beginning of this journey, this is a dangerous place to travel. I hadn't expected the Teeth Plants to grow in what is, in fact, the basin of a small estuary. Resilient bastards, I'll say that for them. But if your men hadn't dropped their guard, they'd still be alive. I heard a couple of them were taken by alligators after falling into the water — something I specifically told them to avoid. I will not be held accountable for the choices of idiots."

"You couldn't find a safer route through?" another officer accused. "Men are dying in here!"

"This is the safe route," Robert spat. "Half of the Fens are filled with those bloody plants, and we're lucky we ran into only one giant alligator. Further north there are dozens of them lying in wait — you think you're sitting on a fallen tree, and then suddenly you're in twenty separate pieces. This is the only way to get across the border unseen, and we'll make it through if you tell your men to stay alert at all times. Now get this column moving again, because if we don't cross the River Pax by sunset, we may never make it out of here alive."

The officers were silent after this statement, until Sir Gabriel barked out a few sharp commands. They saluted him crisply and then headed back to their individual squads, casting furtive looks at Robert as they went. Aiden sauntered over to the mercenary's side as the column began to move forward once again.

"You're rapidly making friends around here," Aiden remarked, drawing a puff of smoke and a nonchalant grunt from Robert, who kept a close eye on the soldiers marching past. Their mood was clearly deteriorating as the harsh conditions and random attacks began to take their toll on the mostly inexperienced men.

"This is probably more than they were bargaining for, poor bastards," Robert grunted. His eye drifted over to Sayana, who was looking back at him with an unreadable expression. "We're not doing this now, Red," the mercenary added. "If we see the sun rise tomorrow, then maybe we can chat."

"What are you talking about?" Aiden asked, interrupting any forthcoming words from Sayana. Robert seemed conflicted for a moment, then pulled him to one side, away from the others.

"I didn't go into detail because they've got enough to deal with at the moment," he confided to Aiden. "Besides, what I'm about to tell you is more of a hunch than a fact."

"I'm all ears."

"The plants and the gators are bad enough, but they're not enough to stop a cunning tracker who puts his mind to it," Robert explained. "If that's all we had to face, armies would be moving through here all the time, and the war might even be over by now."

"There's something else in here stopping that from happening," Aiden surmised. "Something... bigger."

"Something which kills entire armies," Robert added.

"You've been working here for months, yes? You haven't seen anything that obvious?"

"Not a trace," the mercenary growled. "I know I'm right about this, but I'll be damned if I can find anything. Maybe it's just a sinkhole, or... an army of dryads seducing the men into their fairy kingdom? I don't know. But I trust my gut, and my gut tells me we're going to find out by nightfall."

"At the river?"

"Probably," Robert muttered, his face partially obscured by smoke. "All I know for sure is the crossing is treacherous, and it's a perfect time to strike. I'll have my pathfinders scouring the far side before the army makes the crossing, just to be sure our Aielish friends don't have a surprise party in store for us. Okay, I have to get back to work, just keep your friends safe. We'll have our answers soon enough."

"Wait, have you actually seen dryads around here?" Aiden asked as Robert was moving away. The mercenary stopped and levelled a flat stare back at him. "Don't look at me like that, we've all seen stranger things in our time," Aiden protested.

"No, Aiden," Robert replied slowly and deliberately, "I have not seen the female spirits of oak trees, walking about the Fens and seducing men."

"Thanks for clearing that up," Aiden drawled, turning and rejoining his companions a minute later, all of whom were looking at him expectantly.

"Let me guess," Criosa whispered. "Robert is being less than forthcoming with his allies."

"You'd be right," Aiden replied under his breath. "In his defence, it's more of a guess on his part. But it does seem likely we'll run into something nasty before the day is out, the precise nature of which we just don't know. So, keep an eye out for anything which can destroy entire armies."

"My guess is, spotting this threat won't be the problem," Pacian pointed out while leaning casually on his staff. "Surviving it will."

"It all depends on the nature of it," Aiden responded testily, trying to stifle the rising tension he felt within. Something truly deadly dwelled within this damned swamp, and without knowing anything more, he had to stay ready for anything to happen at any time. "All we can do is move ahead and stay ready."

"I find it hard to believe we could stumble across something worse than we have faced — and survived — in the past," Nellise said confidently. "Trust in our capabilities, as we always have, and we will prevail."

Her statement of confidence buoyed Aiden's spirit briefly, until they set out through the mud once more. The soldiers had learned to be wary of the dangerous plant life, and hacked away at anything green nearby, but the sticky mud slowed their progress to a frustrating degree. Sir Gabriel chafed at the delays, especially when their supply wagons and siege engines became stuck more than once.

Horses were in short supply, limited to the few cavalry riding near the front of the column, so it was a great loss when two of them became mired in a small sinkhole and had to be put down. Their riders clearly had a strong connection to their faithful mounts, and a deep sorrow was etched on their faces as they were forced to leave the horses behind.

Drenched in sweat and caked in mud, Aiden trudged along with the others, of whom only Pacian and Nellise seemed to be coping. Whether it was faith or self-discipline, they seemed to bear the rigors of the journey without complaint. But it was still a relief when Aiden heard the rushing waters of a river ahead, towards the end of the day.

The trail opened up at the edge of the River Pax, which cut through the Fens as it flowed to the north, as it had done for centuries. Low-hanging trees crowded over the banks, obscuring the sky almost entirely, save for a sliver of blue running along the centre of the flow. Across the turgid brown waters, the thick foliage seemed to continue on endlessly, though Aiden recalled from maps he had seen, the eastern edge of the Fens lay less than a few miles away. The end was almost in sight.

The waters were low at the moment, as Robert had predicted. Still, the Pax was over twenty yards across and there was no visible sign of a crossing. Fortunately, the banks were at a gentle incline, and Aiden figured they could ford the river at what must be its shallowest point, a fact which Robert confirmed a few moments later.

"Prepare to get wet, gentlemen," he informed the nearest soldiers. "When I give the signal, start moving your men across the river, General. Head for the fallen tree over yonder, the one which looks like a clawed hand. We have less than an hour before the waters start to rise and the crossing becomes almost impossible, so we shouldn't delay.

"Is there no bridge across this river?" Sir Gabriel asked.

"Both your people and the Aielunders attempt to build a bridge from time to time. We burn down theirs, and they burn down ours," Robert explained. With that, he and the other pathfinders waded into the waters, which almost reached their waist in the deeper parts. The current wasn't especially strong, but if the waters started to rise as predicted, the rest of the column would be in trouble. The pathfinders reached the far bank without incident and disappeared into the trees, their weapons held at the ready.

Tense minutes passed as Aiden and the rest awaited the signal to proceed. Trained warhorses snorted and pawed at the ground as if a battle were about to commence. The light began to fade from the sky as the sun sank below the horizon, or so Aiden imagined. He'd hardly seen the sun at all since they'd entered the Fens.

Then, across the river came the faint signs of movement amongst the foliage. Four of the pathfinders had taken up position along the bank to cover the crossing. Robert emerged near the fallen tree itself and signalled the army to head through. Sir Gabriel called for the advance — again, Aiden assumed this as he could not understand the language — and one by one, the mounted chevaliers began to nudge their horses into the stream.

Towering over the reduced flow, the majestic creatures thought nothing of the crossing and soon disappeared into distant tree line. Satisfied that the way seemed safe enough, the general ordered the rest of the column to follow in their footsteps. Soon, men were marching across the flow in single-file, moving as fast as they dare in the slippery conditions.

Aiden and his companions kept to one side of the column, their eyes peeled for any sign of danger as they stood on the bank. If there was something in these swamps that could destroy and entire army without a trace, it didn't appear to be at this river. Something didn't seem right, however, and he couldn't quite put his finger on it until Sayana spoke up.

"It's gone quiet," she whispered, glancing nervously around at the looming trees.

"The sun is setting," Nellise pointed out. "Perhaps the birds and animals have gone to sleep."

"No, it feels wrong... as if they have all gone silent at the same time to avoid a predator," the sorceress said.

"What is that awful smell?" Criosa asked rhetorically, screwing up her face. Aiden caught a whiff of something acrid in the air and mirrored her expression. The Fens were filled with all sorts of aromas, but they hadn't encountered anything as potent as this until now.

"It appears to be coming from the ground," Sayana remarked, pointing at a faint cloud of greenish-yellow fog, which began to form near their feet. The exact point of origin was difficult to determine, but it was definitely coming from downstream. Aiden peered along the river and saw the cloud wafting above the rippling surface, heading in their direction.

The stink intensified immensely with each passing moment, until Aiden's eyes were watering and he had to fight the urge to gag. His vision began to swim and he grabbed a nearby tree to steady himself.

"Poison!" Nellise gasped, almost toppling over as she staggered backward. Around them, the soldiers about to cross the river were also being affected by the noxious vapours. More than one of them fell, clutching at their throats and simply trying to stay conscious.

The fog thickened until the swamp around them became difficult to see, and the sounds of intense coughing drowned out the noise from the river. Whatever had caused the toxic vapours to emerge, it was clear to Aiden they needed to find a way clear if they were to survive. He felt a light touch on his shoulder, which itself barely registered to his addled mind, but a moment later the effects of the fog began to subside.

Next to him, Nellise held her crystal and went around touching those closest to her. Although the air was still thick with fog, it no longer seemed to bother Aiden at all.

"This will buy us some time, but I can only cover a few of us at once," Nellise explained, partly in apology. "Although not immediately fatal, everyone else is going to eventually die if we cannot get them to safety, or put a stop to the source of this toxic cloud."

"It's coming from down the river," Aiden explained hastily, painfully aware of dozens of nearby soldiers who were choking on the horrid fumes as he spoke. One grizzled veteran fell to Aiden's feet, and after taking a moment to check his pulse, he quickly determined the man was unconscious.

"He's still breathing, but erratically so," Aiden informed Nellise. She looked back helplessly as around them, more and more men collapsed to the ground. But worse than that, soldiers crossing the river at the time collapsed into the water and were swept away by the current, most likely to drown.

One man was struggling to make it back across from the other side, and Aiden immediately leaped to his aid. Pulling him out of the river, Aiden saw it was Robert, gasping for breath yet still conscious.

"Nel! Can you manage one more?" Aiden shouted to the cleric. She shook her head as she struggled to keep standing, having rescued thirteen of them from a horrible, slow death already.

"I can help," Pacian offered, rushing to Robert's side and producing his own crystal. After a short prayer, the mercenary warrior's breathing began to become regular again, and he visibly relaxed.

"Can you do more?" Aiden implored his old friend, gesturing to the surrounding army which had been brought to its knees.

"I'm only an initiate, I'm surprised that even worked," Pacian replied testily.

"Not that one more would make any real difference here," Aiden said. "We need to get them clear of this fog, or they'll all die. Start pulling men clear of the fog," he barked to anyone still conscious. "Criosa, order the Tulsonites to start carrying..."

His voice trailed off as a dull vibration went through the ground, as if something massive had made an impact nearby. A second thud shook the trees themselves, and the sound of water surging caught Aiden's attention. Glancing downstream, he stood transfixed as something closed in on them through the fog, sending great waves sloshing into the trees as its massive feet splashed into the river.

It was only when he saw a great yellow eye scanning the surrounding terrain through the miasma that he understood what they were facing. Aiden's feet refused to move, his legs ignoring the screaming commands of his mind as he stared directly at the reptilian head of a dragon, its huge snout easily ten feet long and the cloud of toxic vapours pouring from its mouth.

Its maw opened wide and with a quick snap of its neck, it scooped up an unconscious soldier as if he were a mere snack, swallowing the man whole. The dragon's eye searched the ground, looking for more unconscious men amongst the ground clutter, and scooping them into its voracious mouth.

Aiden and the others hadn't moved an inch since it made its appearance, and he was reluctant to do so now, in case the dragon turned its attention to them. Although they had fought dragons in the past, the sudden appearance of this strange, poison-breathing monster had taken him completely by surprise.

More of it could be seen moving along the river, and to Aiden's surprise, he saw no wings emerging from its shoulders. He'd read about the legends of wingless dragons long ago, but they were considered nothing more than a myth.

"Linnorm," Aiden whispered to the others, "that's Olde Aielish for a land wyrm, or dragon." If his memory served, they were every bit as dangerous as their larger, winged cousins.

He risked turning his head to glance at the others, and saw similar expressions of fear and alarm on their faces. The few soldiers who had been revived by Nellise's prayers stared in wide-eyed horror at the monster which was eating their comrades, and with shaking hands, they raised their crossbows and shot bolts into the dragon's side.

The dragon snapped its head in their direction as the bolts bounced off its thick hide. If anything, it appeared just as surprised to see them as they were to see it, but when its ear-splitting roar erupted through the swamp, it left no doubt as to its intentions.

Chapter Twelve

To their credit, the Tulsonite soldiers held their ground as the last echoes of the linnorm's roar echoed through the swamp. Robert, still struggling to recover from inhaling the poisonous fog, dropped his crossbow and pulled out the Auldsteel shield he'd taken from the Ironlord's resting place, out in the Hocarum desert years ago.

Aiden slowly moved to stand between Criosa and the wingless dragon, never taking his eyes from their foe for a moment. Nellise appeared to be whispering a prayer, though Aiden knew it would take more than that to save them this time. Glancing around him, the comatose forms of their small army lay helpless.

"We can't run or they'll be slaughtered," Aiden said to the others. "And if we stay here much longer, they'll die anyway."

You should be sleeping, taunted a throaty, desiccated voice in his mind, the telepathic voice of the linnorm. Lie down, and I promise your deaths will be swift and painless. The giant creature began to move towards them, threading its head through the trees, insidious and serpent-like. As its head loomed ever closer, Aiden was struck with the sudden realisation he'd seen this creature somewhere before. Despite the familiarity of the voice, he couldn't place it, however.

"These aren't for you," Aiden warned, gesturing to the men lying on the ground. "Go back to whatever hole you crawled from, and we will let you live."

A bold statement, the linnorm sneered. You are in no position to bargain with me. I don't know how you remain unaffected, but I will soon remedy the situation. Criosa and the rest of his companions seemed to be holding their breath as they watched events unfold.

"This is how you feed?" Aiden asked. "Poison your prey and then feed in silence? Little wonder your presence has remained a secret for so long."

My methods are effective, the linnorm answered with pride. I survive where others of my kind have perished.

"How do I know you?" Aiden asked in little more than a whisper. He gazed at the huge serpentine creature and for a moment, he could see an image in his mind, a brief flicker of memory from a time long ago. He didn't know how, but Aiden had definitely met this creature in the past, and he knew its name. "Ilkesh."

Upon the utterance of that word, the linnorm's expression turned from prideful curiosity to murderous intent in the blink of an eye.

None have spoken my name in a thousand years — you risk exposing me to the enemy, and all my painstaking efforts to remain undetected will be for naught. I know not how you came by that name, mortal, but I require you to die. Aiden's gloved hand gripped the hilt of his sword as the wingless dragon spoke.

It snarled and suddenly lunged forward with immense speed and power. Trees were uprooted and tossed aside as the massive creature — easily eighty feet in length — tore through the greenery. Aiden immediately invoked his spectral armour and force shield and tried to think of a strategy. A surge of adrenaline dismissed his exhaustion as the massive creature bore down on him, but while it focused on Aiden, it had neglected to keep track of his other companions.

Robert Black appeared before it wielding the empowered blade he had acquired from the Acadian elves. He slashed at the linnorm's foreleg as it crashed past, slicing through its thick hide and sending dragon blood spurting over the landscape. Ilkesh bellowed and swerved, trying to pull back from the pain in its side.

"It hasn't been in a real fight in years," Aiden shouted over the din as the realisation sprang to mind. The creature had been feeding on unconscious victims for centuries, and hadn't had to deal with any real opposition.

"Then it's in for a hard lesson," Robert roared as he swung his blade back and forth, slicing up the linnorm's foreleg until the clawed limb slammed into the mercenary and sent him tumbling backwards through the mud.

From behind Aiden's position, the Tulsonite soldiers shot their crossbows at Ilkesh. Two waves of bolts peppered its hide, a minor inconvenience at best, but it was enough of a distraction for Robert to regain his footing. The linnorm raised one of its claws towards the archers and streams of rippling energy cascaded outward, engulfing four of the archers. They screamed briefly and fell to the ground, charred and lifeless. Robert shouted orders in Tuscara and with a collective shout of defiance, the soldiers set aside their crossbows, drew their swords and charged.

Aiden looked at his companions and saw they were ready to head in as well, but of Sayana, there was no sign. He called for her, but there was no response, leaving Aiden to curse helplessly at the empty air. She had chosen a hell of a time to withdraw into her shell again, leaving the rest of them to face this creature without her aid.

Gripping his plain sword, Aiden charged forward and slashed at the armoured flank of the linnorm, but found his blade ineffective. Of all their weapons, only Robert's had any real chance of hurting the monster, so Aiden moved to the mercenary's side to support him however he could.

Although taken aback by the sudden ferocity of the battle, Ilkesh quickly adapted to the nature of the fight and lashed out with its talons, tearing the life from a man with each swipe. Its jaw clamped down on another soldier and took him whole, crunching on his armour and bones as if they were nothing. The immense power of the creature made up for any lack of recent experience in battle, and so far, their attacks had proven futile. Robert picked up on this as well, and ordered a change in tactics.

"Fall back to the west!" he bellowed, taking the time to repeat the order in Tuscara. Ilkesh lashed out at him with a claw, which struck Robert's shield sending sparks flying as the mercenary struggled to maintain his footing. It proved to be a nothing more than a diversion, however, for the linnorm slammed its body on top of three soldiers, crushing them to death in an instant.

The impact shook the earth and sent mud flying through the air, causing all but the nimble Pacian to fall. Before they could regain their footing, Ilkesh slithered forward, grasping onto the heavier trees to propel itself through the slimy terrain with astonishing speed. Aiden turned his head as he pulled himself up, holding his breath as he saw the direction their foe was heading — straight for Criosa.

An inarticulate shout erupted from his throat as the wingless dragon bore down on her, but a heartbeat before it crushed her to death, the princess vanished, instantly reappearing just to the left of the immense monster. The linnorm continued forward, oblivious to the narrow escape of its prey. It turned its head and snapped at Nellise with its immense jaws, but the cleric rolled through the mud and mere inches saved her from becoming its next meal.

Although Robert had given an order to retreat, the mercenary was clearly conflicted as Ilkesh pressed its advantage and threatened to devour Nellise on the spot. Pacian was much closer, however, and darted in front of the great maw to pull her clear.

"Get them out of here," the ascetic shouted, gripping his quarterstaff with both hands as he stood before the linnorm. "I will buy you time." Robert didn't hesitate or respond — he simply ran through the swamp with the few remaining soldiers following closely behind. Aiden wasn't quite so abrupt in his departure, for part of him didn't want to leave his old friend to die alone.

Criosa grabbed Aiden by the arm, however, and brought him back to his senses. The two of them cleared the area as fast as they could, with Aiden trusting the princess to guide him — he simply couldn't take his eyes of the sight of Pacian standing alone before Ilkesh, who looked down at the defiant man with amusement.

A heartbeat later, the giant maw opened wide and its head lunged towards Pacian, who stood unmoving before it, gazing up into certain death. Aiden gasped as the ascetic disappeared into its mouth and awaited the gruesome sound of teeth crunching through bone, but to his surprise, that didn't happen.

The linnorm's mouth remained open wide and Pacian half fell, half leaped from the giant maw, landing nimbly on the ground before he started running to catch up with the others. Ilkesh let out a strangled roar and raised its head up, with Pacian's quarterstaff wedged in its mouth, preventing the jaw from closing.

It thrashed its head about, smashing through trees as it attempted to clear the wooden staff, which remained lodged despite its best efforts. Aiden finally turned away from the spectacle and focused on moving through the thick underbrush.

"Where are we running?" he called to Robert, who lead the group on a winding path through the trees.

"To Gordon's position," he shouted back before focusing on the path before him. Aiden remembered the dwarven engineer's siege engines and explosive barrels stacked on the back of a wagon and hoped it would be enough.

Behind them, the sounds of the wingless dragon thrashing about finally ceased, replaced by the more ominous noise of the monster crashing through the thick forest in pursuit. Aiden's heart was pounding, and his instincts told him to run even faster. The ground underfoot was slowing them down, and despite the furious surge of adrenaline spurring them on, Aiden knew the linnorm was closing fast.

Risking a glance behind him, Aiden's heart leaped into his throat when he saw Ilkesh less than twenty yards behind them and closing fast. They were still a long way from the siege engines, and it was obvious they simply wouldn't make it in time. A steady calm washed over him as he came to a decision. He let go of Criosa's hand and came to a halt, turning to face their nemesis.

"Make sure Robert carries out his plan," Aiden called to the princess as she turned to look back at him in confusion. "I'm going to keep it busy for a few minutes. Keep running!" he added when it looked as though she was going to stay with him. Fortunately, Nellise was nearby and took her by the arm, keeping her moving in the right direction.

"Aiden! What are you doing?" Criosa screamed, but Aiden forced himself to ignore Criosa's plaintive cries and focus on the task at hand. He turned to face Ilkesh's sleek snout, as it bore down on him with remarkable speed. The strange memories which had surfaced upon the sight of the creature had given him an edge, and he knew he shared something in common with Ilkesh — a nasty temper.

He raised his left hand and with a quick spoken word, invoked a bolt of lightning which crackled along its jaw. It bellowed in pain, and if anything, came towards him even faster. Aiden ducked behind a thick tree just next to him, waiting for the right moment to move. As soon as the linnorm predictably crashed into it, Aiden dashed to one side and ran along its left flank, driving his sword into its side with all of his strength.

It was a minor hit from an unimpressive swordsman, but Aiden had a trick up his sleeve. He again spoke the word of power and sent a bolt of lightning through the iron weapon, deep into Ilkesh's hide. It roared as energy crackled along its body, but this time responded by bashing him with its claw. Aiden's spectral armour flashed as it took the brunt of the impact, but he was still shoved backward through the mud.

As he picked himself up, Aiden noticed one of its claws pointing at him, and with a guttural growl Ilkesh sent a bolt of rippling energy towards him. He braced for the impact, fully aware of what the dragon's sorcery did to the other men who were struck by it.

But when the bolt struck him squarely on the chest, he felt only a mild sensation of warmth moving through his body as the energy was dispersed harmlessly. Glancing down in surprise, Aiden saw the runes stitched into the sleeves of the robe glowing, and realised Desmond's old garment had saved him.

Taking advantage of the moment of confusion, Aiden scrambled away, making himself as difficult a target as possible. The lush vegetation which had so impeded their progress on the journey now proved to be a life saver, preventing the massive creature getting clear sight of him. The serpent-like linnorm twisted and pivoted, swiping at him with its massive claws but succeeding in tearing up the landscape more often than not.

When Aiden tripped on the uneven ground, he knew he was in trouble. Struggling to regain his footing, he felt a sudden impact upon his back which sent him flying through the air. Aiden crashed into a nearby tree and fell to the ground, his spectral armour preventing the worst of his injuries but fading dangerously as a result.

When he finally looked up, he saw Ilkesh had given up to continue its pursuit of the others. Clearly it had recognised Aiden's diversion for what it was, and decided he wasn't worth the effort. It was Aiden's task to make sure that didn't happen. He raised his hand and tried to summon the strength for another bolt of lightning, but nothing happened.

A simmering rage brought on by exhaustion and pain welled up within Aiden, that old familiar feeling which blotted out everything else. Drawing on deep reserves he didn't know he had, Aiden invoked another surge of electricity, scorching the tail of the linnorm badly enough that the monster immediately halted its progress and turned towards him.

Ilkesh crashed through the trees, roaring in rage and pain with the intention of eating Aiden whole. The sudden appearance of Criosa just to his right gave Aiden a start. She grabbed his hand and a moment later, there was a violet flash as she magically moved them twenty yards away. The ground nearby shuddered from a heavy impact, and turning slightly, Aiden could see Ilkesh had attempted to crush them both, but was disappointed to find no blood or bodies beneath its heel.

"Bugger, that was supposed to move us further!" Criosa whispered. "I don't think that incantation is supposed to work on more than one—" Before she could finish, the linnorm's twisted its neck around and bore down on them once more. Aiden's eyes bulged in alarm as the claw was raised again, but Criosa's brow was already furrowed in concentration.

Again they winked out of existence, only to reappear a few yards further away. Ilkesh was quickly growing wise to the use of this magic, and with eyes narrowed it pursed them, like a cat chasing an elusive mouse. Mud and broken trees flew into the air as the wingless dragon pounced again and again, with Criosa barely managing to keep them one step ahead.

With each jump, their passage through the Aether seemed more sluggish, and the linnorm's claw came that much closer to striking its target. Finally, they appeared over a small pool half-filled with mud and splashed to a halt, the incantation played out. Ilkesh was only yards away, and raised a taloned claw to finally crush them.

The claw hovered in mid-air, painfully drawing out the moment of their demise until Aiden looked to his right and saw Sayana standing there, her arms raised and her tatooss glowing with power, holding the linnorm's claw in place.

"Leave," she ordered without taking her eyes of their foe.

Abomination, Ilkesh snarled at her. Your masters shall regret sending you to meddle in my affairs.

"You're in for a world of pain," Aiden said to the wingless dragon through gritted teeth, as he and Criosa struggled to get clear of the coming fight. The linnorm ignored them, choosing instead to stare back at Sayana. The monster's sheer weight was bearing down on her, slowly pushing her into the muddy earth.

The linnorm's head snapped down towards her, but Sayana shot up from the ground with hovered in the air, twenty feet above them. She brought her hands together and sent a wave of deafening sound at the creature, causing it to bellow in pain from the assault.

Aiden and Criosa hurried through the muck as best as they could, holding each other as they struggled to get away. Behind them, the sounds of trees being uprooted and the crackle of magical energy echoed through the swamp. Ahead, the column of soldiers at the rear of the army had remained unaffected by the dragon's noxious breath, and two dozen men had formed up under Robert's orders to cover the eastern approach.

Just behind them, the mercenary was assisting Gordon as they shifted the huge siege engines around in preparation for use. An explosion of fire from the east lit up the gloomy swamp as the light faded from the sky, indicating Sayana was still keeping the linnorm occupied.

"We can't leave her to face it alone," Aiden grunted, struggling to breathe.

"We just need a little more time," Robert said as he worked. Gordon pulled back the cover on one of the siege engines, and revealed his secret weapon.

It was a hollow tube of black iron, roughly eight feet in length with an opening on the front, fifteen inches in diameter. Into this aperture Gordon's assistant began to shove a bag of cloth that appeared to have some weight to it. A fine black powder escaped from a small hole in the side, from which a piece of string two feet long protruded. The whole thing was balanced on four robust wooden wheels, with a levered mechanism at the rear.

"Once this thing is loaded, we need t'bring yer friend in closer," Gordon advised as the engineer carefully began pushing the bag further into the tube, with the aid of a long pole. "I canna guarantee any accuracy out past a fifty feet in this bloody swamp."

"Someone's going to have to lure it here," Robert muttered, staring into the depths of the swamp where the battle was raging. "If we could just get Sy to pull back to this position without alerting the dragon..."

"I can get a message to her," Criosa suggested as Nellise inspected Aiden's wounds. A burst of fire lit up the swamp once more, accompanied by the roar of the monster.

"Will she even hear you?" Robert asked.

"One can only hope."

"How much more time do you need Sarge?" Robert grunted at the dwarven engineer.

"Nearly there, just another minute," he advised as he struggled to lift a heavy black metal ball into the siege engine's aperture.

"Quit dancing around with that thing and get it done," Robert snarled. "Criosa, send it. Keep it short and simple."

Criosa nodded and took out a few small items from a pouch, then quickly spoke the incantation. Her eyes stared ahead blankly for a moment as she narrowed her focus, but Aiden had no way of knowing if the message had been successfully sent. Criosa snapped out of her trance and blinked, as if her mind had been elsewhere, which in this case, it probably had.

"It's done," she informed them, "but we won't know if it worked until—"

The princess was interrupted as Sayana came soaring through the canopy, landing lightly on her feet a few yards ahead of them. Uprooted trees were being hurled out of the way as Ilkesh raced in pursuit behind her. Sayana's left arm was bleeding heavily and the limb appeared to have been dislocated. Her armour had been charred by intense heat.

"Too bloody soon," Gordon exclaimed as he pulled himself out of the tube and with the help of a soldier, began to turn the contraption towards their oncoming foe. Sayana limped forward as the brush behind her was torn aside and suddenly, the linnorm's snout appeared through the trees as it charged after her.

"Archers! Shoot!" Robert roared as the wingless dragon descended on Sayana. The crossbowmen shakily levelled their weapons at the massive creature and sent two waves of bolts soaring through the air. It had already been gravely wounded — scorch marks were etched along its flanks and blood flowed freely from huge gashes on its serpentine neck. But the rage in its eyes was unabated, and it rushed at Sayana with all of its considerable power.

The bolts peppered Ilkesh's hide, some deflecting off its thick skin but a few striking deep into its wounds, drawing a snarl from the immense monster. But even this wasn't enough to distract it from its target, and from the way it glared at Sayana, Aiden knew it wasn't going to stop until she was dead.

Although seemingly vulnerable, she had another trick up her sleeve. As the linnorm's maw snapped down towards her, she leapt straight up in the air, using her power to levitate high above the ground. Ilkesh crashed into the dirt, sending mud and soil flying into the air. Above, Sayana sent a ball of fire hurtling down onto its back, bathing the creature in flame. Its roar shook the earth, and it rolled and writhed in the mud to douse the flames. The surrounding men cheered at the display, but Robert called for silence.

"Gordon, shoot the damn thing!" he bellowed hoarsely as the dragon writhed on the ground before them, not twenty yards away.

"I canna hit it when its movin' about like that!" Gordon cried, frantically cranking a handle to adjust the elevation of the weapon in a futile attempt to aim. Ilkesh was partially hidden in a cloud of smoke and steam, eerily lit by Nellise's light. Sayana still floated in the air, looking down for any sign of movement when the linnorm's snout emerged from the top of the cloud, shooting straight up towards her with incredible speed.

Its colossal maw opened wide and swallowed her whole. Robert roared incoherently in denial as Ilkesh landed heavily, clear of the smoke, and more or less still alive in spite of the dreadful burns over the front half of its body.

Aiden stared at the monster, unable to believe Sayana had been killed so suddenly. The battle suddenly paused, as if everyone were holding their breath.

I grow tired of this diversion, Ilkesh spoke within their minds. The linnorm opened its maw and began taking in a deep breath, filling its lungs with the pungent air of the Fens. Aiden cringed in anticipation of a cloud of poisonous gas billowing forth, as Ilkesh began emitting choking sounds from its gullet. It staggered into a large tree as it struggled for breath.

An eerie green light began to shine from its mouth and an instant later, the side of its neck exploded outwards, disintegrating in mid-air. Sayana shot out of the wound at high speed, sailing through the air to land heavily in the mud, well clear of the creature. Ilkesh, gravely wounded, lurched to one side, barely able to stand after such a deadly attack. Sensing it was finally outmatched, it began to drag itself through the mire, seeking to flee the battle.

"Gordon!" Robert roared, as the engineer finally levelled the strange weapon at the linnorm.

"Cover yer ears!" he advised as he took a lit taper from his assistant and touched the tip of it into a small hole at the back of the tube. Aiden did as he was told, hands covering his ears as did everyone present. Robert dove out of the way as a stunning eruption of sound blasted from the front of the tube.

The linnorm was struck on its hindquarters, with the distinctive crack of breaking bone echoing through the cloud of black smoke that blanketed the battlefield. Ilkesh bellowed in pain and fell to the ground, as a river of blood poured from the wound. Its breathing was laboured, but other than the slow rise and fall of its ribs, it was still.

Aiden slowly picked himself up off the ground taking his hands from his ears. He stared at the black tube with smoke still wafting ominously from the hole in the front, astonished by the display of power he'd just witnessed. Robert clambered back to his feet as well, and immediately headed for Sayana.

"I can't believe what you just did," he said with a mixture of relief and admiration. "That bloody thing didn't know who it was swallowing." Sayana nodded but didn't reply. She was shaken, but otherwise intact. He helped her to her feet, and they stared at each other for a long moment before she suddenly slapped his face.

"What?" he mumbled as she pushed him aside, and slowly made her way over towards Nellise without his help.

"You know what you did," she whispered. Aiden found this curious, but he didn't dwell on it as he wasn't finished with Ilkesh just yet. From the trees, Pacian emerged, cautiously looking at the scene as he approached Aiden and the others.

"Help me up," Aiden asked him, holding out an arm for him to grab.

"Is everyone alright?" Pacian asked.

"We're still breathing," Criosa replied with a shaky voice.

"Let's go see Ilkesh," Aiden said.

"Why?" Pacian answered.

"I need answers." It was a succinct reply, but he feared it would be too late. Ilkesh was clearly dying from the terrible injuries they'd inflicted, and Aiden winced at the sight of the gaping wound where Sayana had emerged. When its head loomed into sight, they could see its eye surrounded by burnt flesh, gazing at them balefully.

"You could have chosen to leave us alone," Aiden lamented, unafraid of the poor creature in its dying moments. "And now you're going to die. There are so few of you left in the world... you chose poorly."

What was that weapon? Ilkesh asked.

"The future," Gordon grunted, showing little remorse for dealing the killing blow. Aiden glanced warily at the engineer, wondering exactly what he meant by that statement, and making a mental note to inquire at a later time.

"I have never seen you before, but I knew your name," Aiden said to Ilkesh.

You are not what you appear to be, its voice remarked with fading strength. But if you do not understand your own nature... I will spitefully take the secret with me into the great beyond... With that act of defiance, Ilkesh's chest stopped moving and with a final death rattle, the great land wyrm died.

"Don't feel bad about it," Gordon advised. "The bloody thing has been killing people in the Fens fer years."

"Give me a minute," Aiden whispered back, staring down at the fallen creature with the unmistakeable feeling of having lost someone he knew, even if he couldn't place the memory. Criosa and Gordon gave him a curious look, but turned away and did as he asked.

Aiden didn't know why he wanted a moment of silence with the linnorm, but it felt right somehow. The dragon Salinder had impressed upon him the endangered nature of their species, and in memory of his lost friend, Aiden felt it was only right to try and preserve those few who remained. But it still galled him that Ilkesh had not divulged the information Aiden had sought.

He absently scratched his left arm as he stood there, thinking deep thoughts. The itching on his arm seemed quite insistent, so he pulled up the sleeve on his robe to check and make sure he hadn't missed a wound. When he glanced down at it, he stood unmoving, staring at it in disbelief.

Small golden scales had emerged from his skin, covering the back of his arm. In horror, Aiden pulled off his glove and saw his left hand similarly covered in what could only be described as dragon scales.

Chapter Thirteen

As much as he didn't want to believe it, this was real. Aiden could feel the scales disappear into his skin further along his arm, and trying to pull them out was like trying to remove his own teeth. Each scale glistened with a golden lustre, and was roughly the size of one of his fingernails.

His mind whirled through the possibilities — did Ilkesh somehow curse him during the fight? Was this permanent, or would they disappear with time? When Criosa returned to his side, Aiden quickly covered his arm before she could see anything.

"Everything alright?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm just upset about the death of another dragon, or at least one of their relatives," he blurted.

"I have no pity for the death of a monster such as this," the princess remarked. "I despise being near it, even in death. Let's get out of here, shall we?" Aiden nodded and followed her, with the others joining them as well.

Despite their weariness, there was no rest for anyone. Most of the soldiers had survived the poisonous fog, but Robert, seething with a cold anger, ordered them to march. Even Sir Gabriel didn't question his instructions when told to get across the river, or be left behind. The tides were rising and within the hour, the crossing would be all but impossible.

While the weary and sickened men of the expedition waded through the river Pax, Nellise and Pacian set about healing the worst of their injuries. Sayana took her ministrations with good grace, except when the cleric was forced to snap her shoulder back into its socket.

"It could have been far worse," Nellise counselled sympathetically as Sayana writhed in agony. "The beast might have decided to chew." Too tired to reply, the sorceress climbed aboard one of the siege engines for a free ride across the river. Aiden thought it was a clever idea and took the next one for himself and Criosa. They leaned against one another on the ride over, each taking comfort in the other's presence.

Although a far from comfortable perch, the gentle rocking of the conveyance lulled Aiden to sleep for a few minutes at a time, where he dreamed of flying high over a mountain range, his skin covered in golden scales. When the wagon finally lurched to a halt, Criosa nudged him awake just in time to help them make camp.

When their tent was pitched, Aiden took out some bread and cheese and scoffed them down as fast as he could. He'd never been so hungry, and almost bit down on one of his fingers by accident.

"I do so love a man with an appetite," Criosa murmured sleepily as she watched the display of gluttony, "but would you be so kind as leave some for me?"

"Sorry," Aiden mumbled with his mouth full of bread, suddenly aware of his behaviour. He put the remainder of their rations back into the basket for later consumption. A few yards away, Sayana sat with her back against a tree. They exchanged a look, but neither deigned to speak.

Sir Gabriel came from among the campfires, walking stiffly as he dealt with the after-effects of the poison.

"I am informed you are all responsible for our continued existence," the general said. "I wanted to thank you personally for your valour."

"It was a combination of luck and some snap decisions on our part, General," Criosa replied. "Fortunately, we seemed to have survived with no permanent injuries, save the loss of thirteen brave souls who gave their lives in service."

"For that, we can be thankful," Sir Gabriel agreed in a strained voice. "I must take my leave, but I want to see you and your entourage in my command tent tomorrow morning to discuss our plans. Good night to you all." The general walked back in the direction he had come from, with those few soldiers still awake saluting him as he passed.

"Such a formal chap," Criosa yawned. "Come to bed, Aiden, you must be more exhausted than I." Around the camp, other members of the expedition were already slumped down next to hastily built campfires. Nellise and Pacian moved among them, dispensing a simple tonic she had concocted to help alleviate the effects of the linnorm's poison. The rigors of the day had caught up with them all, and Aiden could barely keep his eyes open. He crawled into the tent beside Criosa and began pulling off his armour.

"You shouldn't be so quick to rush into a fight," she whispered to him as she slipped off her leather skirts. "You're too important to me to sacrifice yourself in battle."

"If not me, then someone else would have had to do it," Aiden responded simply. "Without Sy, I felt I was the only one who could buy Robert the time he needed. Fortunately, she decided to get involved after all. We owe her our lives, I think." Criosa was silent for a while after this, during which time they lay down on their bedrolls.

"She makes decisions for herself, and I trust you enough to do the same, but... just be careful in future," she murmured, already half asleep. She reached out a hand to him, and Aiden quickly pivoted to prevent her touching his scaled arm. He didn't even know how to explain it to himself, and the last thing he needed was Criosa fretting over this strange development.

He needn't have worried, for she was asleep in moments. In the confines of the tent, he wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with her and put the day behind him, but the mystery of his scales wouldn't allow him to fall asleep so easily. Aiden waited a few more minutes for her breathing to slow, then quietly climbed back out of the tent with a singular purpose in mind.

The encampment was quiet, with only the crackling of campfires and the chirping of crickets interrupting the stillness of the night. Barely a breath of air stirred the trees, and the ground underfoot was firm. Aiden glanced around for his friends, and saw Sayana lying under a nearby tree. He crept over to her side, and wasn't surprised to see her looking up at him as he approached.

"We need to talk," Aiden whispered, trying to avoid waking anyone nearby. Sayana nodded and began moving quietly into the surrounding trees in search of privacy. Almost without thought, Aiden shifted his vision to allow him to see in the darkness, revealing the deeper parts of the swamp in shades of grey. They moved almost fifty yards away from the camp before Sayana came to a halt amidst the scrub.

"I know what you're going to ask," she whispered before he could speak. "I couldn't engage the beast any sooner because it was too close to the rest of the men. More would have perished had I unleashed my power prematurely, and I am sorry for those who died."

"Is that why you hesitated?" Aiden asked rhetorically. "I had wondered if you were going to help at all, but I'm glad you finally did. How are you feeling, anyway?"

"Like I've been swallowed by a dragon," she muttered. "It was an unpleasant experience, and I will not speak of it. But more than that, I chafe at the delay in reaching Acadia. These tattoos are like a yoke around my neck, and I never know if or when my unseen masters are going to pull on it. I have dealt with it well enough so far, but the more I use my abilities, the more unsettled I become... you have no idea what it's like. One of these days I may just snap completely."

"You just need to hold it together a while longer", Aiden insisted firmly. "Your capabilities are greater than ever, but you've kept control at every turn. Don't let go of that feeling and we'll get you sorted out as soon as possible. But all of this isn't why I wanted to talk to you." Sayana appeared curious as the conversation took an unexpected turn. "In all the time you have used sorcery, has your appearance ever changed?"

"My appearance?" she echoed. "My hair was burned off at one point, does that count?"

"What about your tattoos?"

"Oh. They have grown over time to cover more of my skin," she conceded. "Over the course of months, back when we first met, they began expanding over my hands and neck, as you may have noticed."

"By themselves, or as a result of channelling more power?" Aiden pressed.

"What are you getting at?" she asked suspiciously.

"There really aren't any words to describe this, so I'm just going to show you," he muttered, pulling back the sleeve of his robe. She gasped and looked at Aiden in horror.

"I noticed this after the battle with the linnorm," he said with a quivering voice, as he flexed his fingers, noting how odd they felt with scales growing from them. "I thought it might have cursed me, but it wasn't exactly a subtle creature. I also experienced familiar feelings when I looked upon Ilkesh which leads me to believe—"

"How did you know its name?" Sayana asked sharply.

"That's what I'm talking about," Aiden continued. "I knew its name, but more than that, I have memories flashing through my mind of seeing it before, as if we had known each other in a previous life. I'm not sure what to make of all this."

"Sorcery," Sayana breathed, creeping in closer to stare morbidly at the scales. "You have been drawing deeper into your powers of late, Aiden. Scrolls and staves have their own power embedded within, but when you began duplicating their effects, you were delving into your own strength to produce them."

"I've never had this happen before," Aiden hissed, gesturing with his transformed arm.

"You began with minor invocations," Sayana suggested, gently stroking the scales in fascination. "Altering your vision or even creating that shield of force are minor things. And I assume you have used your power sparingly in the two years since you became Lord of Highmarch?" Aiden nodded confirmation of this. "You have barely tapped into your capabilities until now. Once you started hurling bolts of lightning and cladding yourself in spectral armour, however, you began pushing..." Her voice trailed off and she took a step backwards, gazing at Aiden with eye's shining like a cat's in his altered sight.

"What is it?" Aiden whispered in growing consternation.

"It's sorcery, Aiden, source-ry," she blurted. "You have been tapping into the source of your power, and it is beginning to manifest. The more you call upon it, the more it will consume you."

"What source?" he asked in bewilderment.

"Have you never wondered where this power comes from? Sorcerers are very rare, and yet here we stand, two of us in the same place at the same time. Regular people are never able to grasp these abilities, because the human body simply isn't capable of it. Only with outside influence can we learn to wield such power. With me, it is these tattoos, with you..."

"Don't you dare stop talking," Aiden warned when she hesitated.

"I was right," she hissed, "I was right!"

"About what?"

"There is only one possibility. Your power is the result of your connection to Salinder." Aiden pondered this for a moment and couldn't dispute the claim. "When you fell on the fields of Akora, years ago," the sorceress continued, "I knew instinctively you had changed. We were close, back then, you and I. After you rescued us, I could sense you were different, but until now I didn't fully understand how or why."

"And now you do?"

"Isn't it obvious?" she asked pointedly. "Aiden Wainwright died at Akora." Aiden stared blankly at her as she continued to speak. "What came back from Salinder's realm was an entity stitched together with whatever remnants he could grasp from the Aether. But it wasn't enough to give you life once more, so he had to fill in the gaps with his own essence. You said yourself you cannot recall anything of your past, before the day you discovered the crystal orb within the cave. You cannot remember, because he never saw anything of your life before your first contact."

"Wait, wait," Aiden blurted, his mind struggling to grasp what he was hearing. "I was able to perform sorcery before I met Salinder at Akora."

"You are forgetting the shard you carried around your neck for years on end," Sayana pointed out in a hushed voice. "A sliver of contact with a powerful entity binding you to its will, slowly but surely transforming you into what he needed you to be. 'Saving' you at Akora merely sped up the process, I imagine. And now that power is beginning to manifest fully — the part of you that is wrought of a dragon's spirit, being given more and more control as you call upon the magic within you. I told you treating with a dragon always had its price."

Aiden's breath came in short gasps. His head was spinning so badly he staggered to one side and reached out a hand, grasping on to a nearby tree for support. She couldn't have known all of this for certain, but somehow it all seemed to make sense. His arm, and the memories of another life which flashed through his mind upon laying eyes on Ilkesh seemed to confirm her theory.

"Will it take me over?" he rasped. "Will I turn into some kind of scaled monster?"

"I don't have any more answers for you, Aiden — if I can even still call you that," Sayana replied with a measure of sadness in her voice. "Out of respect for the young man I once knew, I won't speak of this to anyone, but your fate is in your hands, now." She turned and began moving back towards the camp while Aiden tried to gather his thoughts.

"Wait," he breathed. "If I'm going to change into a dragon, what are you becoming?"

"I don't know," she whispered back, "and it scares me. I only hope the Acadian elves can remove it before I find out." She left Aiden to compose himself in the woods and to contemplate all he had learned. When he returned to share Criosa's bed, he found himself unable to sleep for a long time, and when he finally closed his eyes, he dreamed once more of flying through the skies of Aielund.

* * *

Aiden had kept his robe on while sleeping to prevent Criosa from making an unpleasant discovery during the night, but he needn't have worried. He awoke before her, and made sure his left hand was gloved.

The night of sleep had been beneficial to Aiden, despite the strange nature of his dreams. There was something calming about soaring through the skies which seemed perfectly natural at the time, but upon waking struck him as completely alien. He idly wondered if these feelings — along with the scales themselves — would fade over time if he avoided calling upon his sorcerous abilities, but given their current situation, he couldn't really hold back.

The one thing which truly plagued his mind was Sayana's bold statement, that he was some sort of imposter with only remnants of the original Aiden Wainwright swirling about in his mind. He couldn't shake the feeling she might be correct, and found himself examining his every thought and action for evidence of his false nature.

Criosa awoke and slowly began dressing herself, still half-asleep with her golden hair a complete mess, something Aiden always found captivating first thing in the morning. If there was indeed something false about his existence, he didn't feel it when he looked at her. She noticed his interested gaze and smiled self-consciously.

"I'm really not used to having company while I dress," she whispered while blushing. "And if you keep looking at me like that, we may end up being late to the general's meeting. Aiden smiled knowingly, and dismissed his bizarre thoughts for the moment. He may indeed be some sort of living construct fashioned from two dying creatures, but he felt real. Perhaps it was part of Salinder's designs, but Aiden may never find out the truth behind it all.

"Better to live in the moment, than worry about things we cannot change," he muttered, drawing a curious look from Criosa.

"That was profound for this time of the morning," she remarked. "Thinking deep thoughts, are we?"

Aiden nodded, unsure what else to say. He wasn't ready to reveal his changing nature just yet, when they had so much else to deal with.

"We shouldn't keep the general waiting," he finally said, noting how disturbingly good he was becoming at compartmentalising his life. "Sir Gabriel strikes me as the type who enjoys an official briefing more than he should." She grinned mischievously at this remark and quickly finished dressing.

Shortly thereafter they strolled through the camp towards the general's tent, taking note of the soldiers along the way. Though they had survived the trials of the previous day, they seemed haunted by their near-death experience, and moved with little enthusiasm. Nellise, a limitless font of energy, moved among them tending their wounds as she had the night before.

"Everything all right here?" Criosa asked of her when they passed by.

"They'll be fine, though the forced march Robert ordered did nothing for their health," the cleric sighed. "Some of the older men are complaining of chest pains, and considering they were poisoned last night, I think the general needs to give them another day of rest."

"I'm not even sure he's in charge at this point," Aiden remarked. "Robert seemed to take command last night with hardly a word from the Tulsonites."

"Sir Gabriel is somewhat out of his depth," Criosa confided under her breath. "It will be interesting to see if he reasserts his authority this morning. Speaking of such, are you coming to the meeting?"

"No, I will be of more use here than standing about listening to them drone on about their plans," Nellise declared, her golden eyes glancing elsewhere for just a moment. "Go ahead without me."

"You're okay, yes?" Criosa asked with mild concern.

"Of course, why do you ask?" Nellise answered with a slight frown.

"Nothing... nothing at all. We'll see you later," she answered, taking Aiden by the arm and pulling him onward.

"What was that about?" Aiden whispered. Criosa nodded in the direction she had seen Nellise look, and saw Pacian also tending to the wounded men a dozen yards away, as he had the previous night.

"She's conflicted," the princess whispered conspiratorially. "Pacian was incredibly brave last night, standing up to that dragon as he did."

"Does it make him any less a murderer?" Aiden pointed out, receiving a playful slap on his shoulder for his insight.

"He can never change the past, but I'm glad to see he's serious about atoning for his crimes," Criosa finished as they came to the general's tent. The murmur of low voices could be heard inside, and with a salute, the royal guardsman outside the door opened the flap and permitted them entry.

"Down to business," Aiden muttered as they stepped inside. Half a dozen well-groomed men stood within the confines of the tent, including Robert Black. Several tables were arranged around the edge, mostly covered in maps and ledgers but one of them did have an assortment of breakfast foods on platters. The choking aroma of pipe weed filled the air, wafting up from the pipes smoked by several of the officers, and Robert's omnipresent cigar.

"Good morning, Your Highness," Sir Gabriel greeted them, leading the rest of his officers in a group bow.

"And to you, Sir Gabriel, gentlemen," Criosa replied with aplomb. "I lament we saved you from a terrible fate last night, only to see you continuing to poison yourselves of your own volition."

"Very droll, Highness," the general remarked dryly, ignoring Robert's cynical chuckle. "Please forgive our little vice, it is something of a tradition in the service."

"Do as you will, gentlemen, but I ask that you keep the uh... 'door' open a little to allow fresh air in. Some of us aren't able to survive on smoke alone."

"Consider it done," the general replied with no obvious sign of humour. He signalled one of the guards, who opened the tent up to allow fresh air in, although as they were still within the Fens the definition of fresh was open to interpretation. "My officers and I wish we could have aided your struggle, but as it was, I can only offer thanks for saving our lives once more. Those who stood with you will receive a commendation for their bravery."

"It was a narrowly averted disaster," Aiden grumbled. "Sayana was almost eaten in the process of saving us so if you see her, let her know how grateful you are to still be drawing breath. That goes for you too, Robert — what were you thinking?"

"We knew the risks coming into this — not the dragon specifically, mind you, only that the Fens were bloody dangerous," Robert explained. "We took every precaution, but the importance of getting through to Aielish lands outweighed any risk, as the general is about to explain."

"And what of Sayana?" Aiden inquired.

"Our issues are none of your bloody business," Robert growled with a puff of his cigar. "We're not here to share feelings and braid each other's hair, mate. General, get on with it."

"Very well, if you will please take a look at this map," Sir Gabriel prompted. Aiden exchanged a glance with Robert, knowing full well he wouldn't get anything more from the mercenary, with regards to Sayana. Aiden and Criosa moved over to one of the tables and looked down upon a map of Aielund and Tulsone, with the Fens right in the middle. Scrawled notes and papers were piled around the edge of the table, leaving the western half of Aielund clear.

"As I understand it, once clear of the Fens we are to move east and take Bracksford," Aiden said.

"That is our first objective, yes," Sir Gabriel confirmed, pointing out the small farming community on the map.

"How is such a small town of any strategic importance whatsoever?" Aiden asked.

"Bracksford sits astride the highway running through the country," the general answered, raising an eyebrow at Aiden's remark. "While we have gained valuable time cutting through the Fens, we must now keep to the pre-arranged schedule in order to co-ordinate with our forces. The nature of the terrain between here and Culdeny means we cannot simply move through the Calespur ranges. We must secure the highway and the bridge over the Stormflow River, and therefore we cannot simply attempt to bypass Bracksford."

"A hundred or so farmers and townsfolk are no threat to us," Aiden pointed out. "Do you mean to attack the town as you would any other military encampment?"

"You've been out of touch for a while so let me bring you up to date," Robert interjected. "Since the fall of Westgate keep last month, Bracksford has become the primary base of operations for defence of the inner countryside. They still don't know we've brought a sizeable force through the Fens, so they won't be expecting anything of this magnitude, but the town is still surrounded by a palisade and we'll need to knock it down — along with the defenders."

Aiden exchanged a glance with Criosa, who seemed to share his discomfort with the concept of attacking a town they had once visited, and saved on more than one occasion.

"I can see you're feeling squeamish at the prospect," Robert said, "but let me assure you the civilians were evacuated weeks ago. It's just a military camp now, ripe for the taking."

"I don't care for your tone, Commander Black," Criosa said with icy calm. "Those are my subjects you are referring to."

"If you didn't want to fight your own people, you shouldn't be here," Robert reminded her. "We need to keep our eyes on the prize here people — Fairloch must fall, and to do that, we have to get there intact. The people of Aielund aren't likely to let us stroll through their lands and lay siege to their capital, so steel yourselves for more bloodshed." An awkward silence fell for a long moment after he had finished speaking, lending weight to his words. Sir Gabriel eventually continued talking, though his words did nothing to make the prospect of the upcoming fight any easier.

"The war has been difficult for all of us, Highness, but we must be victorious. Take comfort in the knowledge of how many lives we will save when the war is finally brought to an end. Our siege engines will turn their walls into kindling, and we will be able to move through the town at our leisure. If they are smart, they will surrender quickly and we can minimise the bloodshed. From there, we head directly north along the highway, ready to support the attack on Culdeny."

"His Tulsonic Majesty's Royal fleet will arrive at the prearranged time and commence their assault on the town, aided by a force of mercenary cutters. Our siege engines will open a second front, spreading their defenders thinly and ensuring a quick victory. I only hope the mercenaries can control their instincts to loot and pillage long enough for us to secure the objective in short order." The officers chuckled knowingly at this statement, but Robert's dead-eyed glare cut their enjoyment short.

"I'm trying not to be offended by that comment, general, but I'm not doing a very good job of it," he growled. "You're a man who values honour and integrity, especially from the people you work with. But for all your righteousness, you and your army of honourable gentlemen haven't been able to win this damned war, so it's up to mercenary scum like me to save your asses. We're dying on the front lines just like you are, so you will show some respect."

Sir Gabriel's jaw muscles performed a little dance as they clenched and unclenched, but he managed to refrain from speaking out against Robert. The tension between the two men was far deeper than Aiden had anticipated, and he quietly hoped it wouldn't become a real problem in the near future.

"I thank you and your men for their service," the general said through gritted teeth. "We all shed blood for the cause of victory and peace, and any sacrifices to that end are neither overlooked nor forgotten." Robert nodded graciously at this statement and settled down once more.

"So once Culdeny is secured, we'll be heading to the capital?" Aiden prompted.

"Indeed," the general replied, tracing a line on the map with an extended finger. "We will link up with reinforcements, swelling the size of our force tenfold before heading east. The highway through the mountains is mostly clear of snow at this time of year, and I foresee a rapid journey with little resistance. Our spies inform me the majority of Aielund's military is coalescing around Fairloch for some reason, leaving the surrounding lands clear of threats."

"And then we lay siege to my home," Criosa remarked with an empty voice. Aiden put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"By then, I hope you will have acquired the staff," Sir Gabriel pointed out. "The entire operation hinges on your acquisition of this relic. If we cannot neutralize the Ironlord, our victory is uncertain at best. I therefore propose you and your companions detach from the main body after we secure Bracksford. Head directly to the home of the mad king's wizard and do what you came here to do."

"That reminds me, we need to visit Acadia as well," Aiden added. "We might be able to secure the aid of the elves, as we did for the last confrontation. We also have some personal matters to attend to while there."

"Then the course before us is clear," the general finished simply. "We will muster the men and move out within the hour. I want to be at the western edge of Bracksford tomorrow morning, where their defenders will be in for an unpleasant surprise. You have your orders, gentlemen. See to them at once."

The officers saluted and began filing out of the tent, along with Robert, who seemed pensive and distracted. Aiden and Criosa exited last, holding on to each other for support. He was unable to shake the feeling they were about to betray their own people, and having saved Bracksford several times before, his feelings seemed justified. It was yet another tangled web of feelings he had to push to the increasing crowded corners of his mind.

Chapter Fourteen

Within the hour, the expedition pressed on. The Fens, having tried to kill them all the previous day, had apparently decided to allow them a trouble-free journey for a change. If not for the stifling heat and humidity, it would have been almost pleasant.

Aiden barely paid any attention to their surroundings, for without any immediate threats or issues to deal with, his mind once more dwelled upon the nature of his existence. He was almost constantly scratching his arm, even though it was no longer itching. The mere presence of the scales was enough to draw his unconscious attention.

Every half an hour he would take a secretive peek, watching for signs of their progress on his body. They weren't spreading, which was cause for some relief, but neither were they receding. Still, he counted himself fortunate, for it seemed he had a degree of control over his transformation. So long as he refrained from using powerful sorcery, he should remain mostly human in appearance, and given enough time, the scales might vanish.

He noticed Sayana gazing at him with her green eyes, reminding Aiden of their earlier discussion. He didn't want to think about it though, and did his best to ignore her quiet observation.

His internal musing was interrupted a few hours into the march when the column came to an abrupt halt, and the order for silence was passed down the line. Aiden's ears pricked up as he listened intently for any unusual sounds, but all he could hear were the usual sounds of a forest filled with life. Within a few tense minutes they had set out again, however, and word passed through the ranks that an Aielish patrol had been spotted nearby, but hadn't been moving in their direction. If nothing else, it highlighted they weren't out of danger yet.

When the sun was at its peak, the column came to a stop once more, this time for a proper rest. Robert appeared from the front of the column, with his eye on Sayana as he approached.

"Can we talk?" he asked of her, who sat slightly apart from the others. Her expression hardened as she looked up at him, but after a moment's hesitation she nodded. Robert led her away from the column of soldiers and into the brush for a secret conversation, something she seemed to be doing a lot of lately. As she passed by, the nearby soldiers gazed at her in awe and whispered amongst themselves.

"Sy is getting quite the reputation in the enlisted ranks," Pacian remarked. "Rumours of her battle against the dragon are spreading, and they don't mention any of us."

"Jealous?" Nellise asked pointedly.

"Not at all," Pacian replied easily. "I'm not here for the glory, you know." Aiden was about to speak up when Criosa, ever inquisitive, revealed that she had other plans for him.

"Can't we just leave them to work it out?" Aiden asked plaintively as she grabbed his gloved hand and pulled him in the direction Sayana and Robert had gone.

"Sayana is my friend and I will not allow him to hurt her again," she whispered back as they disappeared into the brush, much to the amusement of Nellise.

"Sy can take care of herself," Aiden pointed out.

"Yes, but she shouldn't have to," Criosa responded. "She's spent enough time on her own, and it will help her to feel wanted if we show we care about her."

"She'll see us, you know," Aiden protested, not giving up. Criosa gave him a wink and drew several small objects from her pouch. A moment later she whispered the words of an incantation and suddenly, they both vanished.

"There's something very wrong about this," he whispered as she continued to pull him along, invisible in the brush.

"What's the use of being able to turn invisible if you can't use it to spy on people?" she teased. She shushed him before he could say anything else, for they could overhear the voices of Sayana and Robert close by.

"I know you probably don't want to see me, let alone talk with me," the mercenary began, "but we seem to be working together again and I wanted to clear the air." He paused for a moment, trying to find the words. Sayana said nothing and simply looked at him with an unreadable expression, which only seemed to fluster him more.

"It's good to see you again," he started, still sounding unsure of himself. "Good to see you out and about, you know?"

"You didn't even say goodbye," Sayana said quietly.

"What? Oh, yeah the note," Robert responded awkwardly.

"Yes, the note," she affirmed. "After months of living together, that's how you chose to end things between us?"

"I'm not great at goodbyes."

"You could have tried, at least. Or were you afraid of me?"

"If I honestly thought you were a danger to yourself or others, or turned into the monster you always feared you would, I would have killed you in your sleep and walked away with a clear conscience," Robert told her emphatically. "It would have torn me up inside but I would have done it."

"That's reassuring," she drawled.

"I didn't mean it like that," he growled, turning away to shake his head in frustration. "I was never afraid of you, but I didn't much care for the life you wanted either. Hiding in the desert isn't what I'd planned for my retirement, Sy."

"The inquisition was — and still is — hunting me," she reminded him. "They would have taken us both in had they located me, so hiding was in our best interests. I couldn't let them take you too."

"It was more than tha,t and you know it," Robert shot back. "You were afraid of yourself as much as the inquisition, admit it."

"Of course I was," she whispered. "How could I not be? I killed so many people—"

"No, you didn't," Robert interrupted. "It wasn't you, and watching you punish yourself for months on end for something entirely out of your control, was more than I could bear." His angry visage softened with genuine feeling as he spoke. "That's why I left." An awkward silence descended on the couple as they grappled with feelings neither were accustomed to.

"So, you preferred the life of a mercenary, to a quiet existence with me?" she asked curiously. "Haven't you seen enough bloodshed?"

"It doesn't bother me as much as some people, never has," Robert grunted. "But more than that, I could see the direction this war was heading and good people getting slaughtered pisses me off to no end. It's almost as if Osric and Seamus want it to happen." He pulled a cigar out of a belt pouch along with a small metal spark box, but before he could light it up, Sayana placed a hand on his.

"You shouldn't smoke so many of those. They're bad for you," she whispered. Robert gazed at her with his one blue eye, then slowly put the cigar away. Criosa's hand squeezed tighter around Aiden's as they watched, for it appeared that underneath the pain and bad memories, there were still strong feelings between the two.

"I'm sorry I left," Robert said, surprising Aiden with the admission. "I could have handled it better, no doubt about it. I'm kind of an ass, sometimes. You might have noticed. Are we gonna be okay?" Sayana grasped his hand and seemed to be thinking it over. Then, she ever so slowly moved closer to him and arched her neck, while he responded by moving his lips closer to hers. Just when it seemed they were about to kiss, she suddenly pulled back and slapped him.

"What were you thinking?" she said to the surprised man who rubbed his check in shock. "That we'd just kiss and all would be well?"

"Obviously," he mumbled. "Too soon?"

"Very too soon," she nodded emphatically.

"Right, well, I guess I'd better get back," he replied awkwardly, already moving away from her. "We'll uh, talk again sometime when you're less 'touchy-feely'." Sayana watched him disappear through the scrub, muttering to herself under her breath. All Aiden heard was something derogatory about men which made Criosa squeal ever so slightly with laughter.

Sayana turned instantly, looking almost directly at the two eavesdroppers. She stared for a moment, then slowly backed away, watching for the slightest sign of movement or sound. Aiden knew that as soon as she returned to the convoy and noticed them missing, she'd figure out her conversation with Robert hadn't been as private as she might have hoped.

Criosa must have realized this too, for as soon as Sayana was out of sight, she whispered a familiar incantation and with a flash of violet light, she transported them both back towards the camp. It took a few short jumps to achieve due to the limitations of the incantation, but they still made it back to the group just before Sayana.

She burst through the trees at a run and skidded to a halt, looking suspiciously at Criosa and Aiden as they sat there their, eating lunch. Aiden didn't trust himself to look directly at the sorceress, but Criosa gave her an inquiring look which seemed to fluster the sorceress.

"Everything okay?" she asked of Sayana, who nodded suspiciously before retrieving some bread and cheese, and retreating into the brush to eat.

"That was too close," Aiden whispered to Criosa. "I'm going to have to put a stop to that sort of thing."

"Nonsense, I'm a princess," she retorted. "We're allowed to do this sort of thing, you know." Something occurred to him at that moment — despite all she had seen of late, and the dire nature of their mission, there was still a spark of the innocent girl within her which Aiden had found so captivating. Meddling with the affairs of her friends was a guilty pleasure of hers, and if it helped her stave off the darkness surrounding them for a time, then he could hardly try to stop her.

It had been a surprisingly pleasant diversion from the gruelling march through the swamplands, but when they set out again a few minutes later, their destination plagued Aiden once more with thoughts of guilt and betrayal. When they made camp that night, they had left the Fens completely and were within a few miles of Bracksford. No campfires were lit, and cold rations were the order of the day.

Sir Gabriel posted twice the usual number of guards around the edge of the camp, including Sayana and Aiden who were able to see better at night than most people. An almost eerie calm settled over the land, and no signs of patrols or threats were seen. By the time Aiden finished his shift, he was so tired he fell asleep almost instantly, and awoke in what seemed like only minutes later with no memory of his dreams.

The sky was clear as the sun appeared over the horizon, and the tension throughout the camp was evident, despite the picturesque scene around them. Rolling green hills decorated with a scattering of trees were a clear indication they had arrived in central Aielund, leaving the swamplands far behind them.

Everyone ate their morning meal in silence, pondering the task ahead, oblivious to the tranquillity around them. At the end of the day, the green fields of Bracksford would likely be covered in blood and death, a prospect he had no stomach for.

An hour later they were traveling once more, trudging toward their fate with little enthusiasm. Usually able to come up with some sort of alternative plan, Aiden felt at a loss. Sir Gabriel was correct — they needed to secure the highway, and that meant securing the bridge across the Stormflow River. To do that, Bracksford had to fall, and there was no other way to do it. The Aielish forces occupying the town were unlikely to allow a major Tulsonite army to simply pass through on the way to kill their king, leaving them with only one grim possibility for success.

Aiden dwelled on this absently until the convoy came to a sudden halt. Looking around, he saw familiar terrain and realized he had been caught up in his own thoughts for some time, for they had arrived at the western edge of Bracksford. Gordon MacTavish and his crew began setting up his siege engines while the soldiers nervously kept their eyes to the east.

In the distance the town's palisade, a line of felled tree trunks rising from the earth, barred their way. Movement could be seen along its length as the defenders set about preparing to meet the unexpected arrival of their enemies. The sun shone down clear and bright, and a gentle breeze caressed the long grass across the field between the two armies.

Despite the distance, it was clear the defenders had nearly a hundred men just on the walls, more than had been anticipated. It was not going to be an easy fight, even with the thunderous siege engines of the dwarven engineers.

Aiden stopped next to one of them, watching as two men carefully shoved sacks of black powder down the gullet of the weapon. A small cart was being used to bring the black metal balls from a wagon, while Gordon gave orders to the crews.

"'The future', you recently described these things," Aiden mused aloud, catching the dwarf's attention. "What exactly did you mean by that?"

"I was just bein' dramatic," Gordon chuckled while monitoring the operation. "There's some truth to it, though. You ain't seen but a fraction of their power when used properly, but more than that is their flexibility. If we were usin' trebuchets, we'd have to spend a better part of the day settin' them up, and three times as long loadin' them to shoot. With these cannons — as we call 'em — it only takes a few minutes. They appear on the field 'o battle, and suddenly yer walls start coming down around ya with little warning. They're more powerful than trebuchets, too. Me cousin and I have some ideas about how we can make 'em more mobile and compact, and if they pan out, it'll revolutionise warfare."

"That's not a good thing," Aiden muttered, watching the men align the war machines towards the walls. He looked down the length of the barrel towards their targets and saw Pacian sitting on the grass before them, apparently meditating in the sun. Curious what the ascetic would think of this development, Aiden walked over to speak with him.

The sunlight glinted off Pacian's white goatee beard, reminding Aiden of the changes his old friend had gone through. He seemed calm in spite of the tension in the air, which almost made Aiden jealous.

"Almost home at last," Pacian remarked, evidently sensing Aiden's presence, even with his eyes closed. "The terrain has a familiar shape about it, but it's the smell of the air that's filling my head with nostalgic thoughts. Even in summer there's a sweet moisture about the place, an unmistakable aroma you don't find anywhere else."

"I suppose there is," Aiden nodded soberly.

"It's not going to work, you know," Pacian advised with an abrupt change of topic.

"What's that?"

"This siege. Sir Gabriel thinks he can win before the end of the day, storm through the smoking gates of Bracksford, and sleep in the Mayor's own bed. But it's not going to happen, not like that."

"The men are still sick from the Fens," Aiden agreed, voicing his own concerns. "I'm hoping the siege engines, these 'cannons' as Gordon calls them, will weaken the defenders up so we can roll right over them."

"Roll right over our own countrymen," Pacian corrected.

"Don't say it, don't even bloody think it," Aiden snapped. "I don't like this any more than you do, but there's no other way through. I didn't start this senseless war but I've resolved to do what it takes to end it, and if some of our own people have to die..."

"Yes?"

"I'm done talking, it's time to get this over with," Aiden finished abruptly. He turned with the intention of walking away when Pacian spoke again.

"I'm sorry, Aiden, I didn't mean to stir you up like that. Old habits die hard, as they say. I just wanted you to know I had every intention of leaving when we cleared the Fens. Being around Nellise is... it's so much harder than I thought."

"Is she giving you a hard time?" Aiden asked, still eager to leave but his curiosity getting the better of him.

"No, she's being perfectly polite. I'm the problem — I don't think I can fully describe how it felt on the wall years ago, confessing my crimes to her and seeing her love for me crumble before my eyes. I look at her now, and all I can see is the shame of my own mistakes." Pacian's voice began to waver with emotion, and it was clear to Aiden he wasn't as collected as he appeared to be.

"I don't have the answers for you, Pace," he said in a low voice. "If you feel you need to get away from all this, I wouldn't blame you. You've done enough already — standing up to that linnorm in the Fens was something I'll never forget." The sounds of shouted orders came from nearby, indicating the general was about to begin the attack.

"Go on, you're needed," Pacian advised. "Do what you have to do, mate, and so will I."

Unable to spare another thought for Pacian's plight, Aiden hurried back to where the general was standing with his officers. Red banners, each with a griffin embroidered upon it were raised high over their heads, and the ranks of soldiers organized themselves into three lines, one behind the other. Nellise was speaking with Sir Gabriel as Aiden approached.

"Sending injured soldiers in is tantamount to murder," she implored the general. "Give me two more days and I can have them close to full strength, and then you can continue with this atrocity."

"We are on a tight schedule and I refuse to jeopardize the entire operation because of some perceived weakness in my men," he huffed.

"I speak of you and your officers as well," Nellise pressed. "You were closer to the source of the poison than most, yet you refuse treatment."

"If my plans are successful, we can rest properly tonight within the confines of the town, after we have taken it. As for my men and I, we are Tulsonites, and God's blessings will strengthen our arms and gird our resolve. I have no doubt as to the righteousness of our cause, and this alone will see us through in spite of the weakness of our flesh."

"If not for yourselves, think of the men on that wall you're about to fight," Nellise continued. Criosa glanced at Aiden, and they both knew the cleric was putting voice to all of their concerns.

"They are the enemy, and they will die," the Sir Gabriel replied firmly.

"At least give them the option of surrender, general. Parley with their commander and convince them to stand down."

"Their commander knows of our presence and has the option to raise the white flag. He has chosen not to do so, giving me no choice—" Sir Gabriel suddenly engaged in a fit of coughing. Nellise tried to put her hand comfortingly on his shoulder, but he shrugged it away.

"General, please," she whispered. He exchanged a look with her, and his expression softened. Nellise's golden eyes had that effect on people, as Aiden recalled, although she rarely tried to influence people so directly. A spark flickered in Sir Gabriel's eyes and he stood up straight, looking around for something.

"Where is she, the sorceress," he muttered. "You have spoken of her power — she could help secure a victory for certain."

"I don't think Sayana wants to kill people anymore," Nellise hedged, looking around uncertainly. Aiden glanced around too, but suspected the sorceress had disappeared once more as the time of the battle neared. He shifted his vision to allow him to see the invisible and noticed Sayana's silhouette flare at a nearby tree. She was close enough to hear, but refused to reveal herself, and Aiden didn't blame her.

"She saved us once before, and she can exercise her power for the good of both our peoples again," Sir Gabriel said obstinately. "Find her and bring her here at once; she may be the key to ending this fight quickly and with minimal bloodshed."

"Sayana doesn't take orders on principle, and is certainly not going to take any from you," Robert growled. "Leave her out of this, she's seen and caused enough death."

The general spat out a long string of words in Tuscara, clearly angry at Robert once more. An argument erupted as the officers sided with the general, and Robert was grabbed by the arms and pulled away, spitting insults and curses at Sir Gabriel all the while."

Aiden pulled Nellise and Criosa away from the scene while the men continued to argue amongst themselves. He was about to speak when he happened to glance at the field of grass before them, and noticed a hooded figure walking towards the town. It took a moment for Aiden to realize it was Pacian, and he was heading directly into certain death.

"What the hell does he think he's doing?" Aiden hissed, staring in astonishment at the figure receding across the field. Nellise gasped as she finally noticed Pacian as well, though she had no explanation for his strange behaviour either. She took a few steps forward before Aiden grabbed her firmly by the arm and brought her to a halt.

"They're going to kill him," she exclaimed, trying to free herself from Aiden's grip.

"They're armed with Aielish longbows," he told her. "He's already well within range. If they wanted him dead, he'd already be dead."

"Pacian! Get back here this instant!" Nellise shouted as loudly as she could, but if he heard her, he didn't respond. Robert appeared by their side, somewhat dishevelled from being roughed up by the officers.

"He's a crazy one alright," he remarked as he took in the scene. "I'm a little disappointed in our opponents, though. They could have filled him with arrows by now."

"I'm going out there," Nellise said firmly, shaking herself free of Aiden's grip.

"Just because they let an unarmed monk approach them, doesn't mean they're going to tolerate armed warriors striding over the field unchallenged," Robert warned. "Pacian may be crazy, but I'm interested to see what he's got planned."

"He's stopped in front of the wall," Aiden said, squinting to see clearly. "I'd give a hundred sovereigns to hear what's going on over there."

"Oh, what am I thinking," Criosa muttered in as she fetched a few items from her pouch. She whispered a few words and held a tiny conch shell to her ear, and suddenly the sound of Pacian's voice could be heard as if he were standing right there. There was another voice as well, one Aiden instantly recognised.

"Dante Colt," he remarked with a knowing exchange of glances from his companions.

"If I'd known it was you, I wouldn't have let you waltz up to the wall like this," Colt was saying to Pacian in his typically belligerent voice. "Thought you were some kind of monk looking for peaceful passage instead of a murderer dressed as one. Well, that's an easy mistake to fix." The sound of a creaking bow being readied to shoot could be heard through Criosa's incantation, and Aiden tensed in dreadful anticipation.

"Considering I arrived with an army behind me, aren't you the least bit interested in what I have to say?" Pacian inquired in a calm voice.

"No, now hold still so I can kill you," Colt growled in a low voice.

"Wait," a smooth, melodious female voice advised, followed by a moment of tense silence. "If you wish to take him captive, do so, but I can't let you shoot an unarmed man in cold blood."

"Who is that?" Robert asked.

"Mona, Colt's elven lady friend," Aiden muttered, listening intently.

"We chased this bastard for a week," Colt protested, "only to find he'd disappeared into that bloody monastery in the mountains. 'Sanctuary' they said. 'Bullshit', I told 'em, but they wouldn't let me in to grab him without a fight. But here he is, the little shit kicker walked right up to me, and there's nobody around to save him this time."

"You can have him later, after he says his piece," Mona said firmly.

"She always was the level headed one," Nellise remarked with a wistful smile. Silence ensued for a moment as the ranger considered her request. Sir Gabriel and two of his officers approached the small group, who had gathered around Criosa to hear the distant conversation.

"Who is speaking so profanely?" he inquired.

"Hush, we're listening in on events near the wall," Criosa replied absently.

"Thank you, Mona," Pacian's disembodied voice said with a measure of relief.

"You have changed, Pacian Savidge," the elf remarked. "I sense you haven't simply acquired the trappings of faith you wear, but have earned them through struggle. We will hear your words, but I will make no promises as to your fate thereafter."

"The people behind me are becoming impatient, so I'll be blunt," Pacian said. "Both sides in this war have suffered terrible losses, and this confrontation promises to add more to that tally."

"Yeah, it's called a war," Colt grunted.

"A war that no longer has any meaning or purpose, aside from the continued decline of both kingdoms. It always seems kings and generals start conflicts such as this, but it is common men who fight and die in their names. You are outnumbered and outclassed, yet you do not surrender."

"I'll be damned if I let this town fall to another enemy," Colt growled. "You've seen what this place has been through in the past couple of years. It ends here."

"These are just buildings," Pacian remarked. "It is only a place on a map. It is the people who make a town come alive, and the civilians were evacuated long ago, weren't they? Why risk death for a few houses?"

"Because unlike you, I have a sense of honour," Colt shot back. "I swore an oath to protect this country in the name of the king, and I keep my bloody word."

"Even if your king has become a tyrant?" Pacian challenged. "Even if he perpetuates a war with no end in sight?" This was met with silence as Pacian's words struck a chord with the defenders.

"What would you propose?" Mona asked quietly. "That we simply stand aside and let your army walk right in?"

"Ideally, yes, but I can see it will take a little more incentive to make you see reason," Pacian said. "You desire conflict and blood, but I have a way of minimising it. Instead of sending in hundreds to fight, each side sends in one man. A duel, if you like. The loser's side quits the field and surrenders to the winner."

"What?" Sir Gabriel blurted. "That man cannot make deals on my behalf!"

"That's a ridiculous idea," Colt said, his distant voice dripping with derision. Robert glared at the general to shut him up and Aiden ignored them both, intent on the unfolding events.

"Don't you think you can take me in a fight?" Pacian asked of the ranger.

"You're going to fight me on behalf of your Tulsonite friends? In that case, sure let's get to it."

"Colt, wait," Mona advised. "He might be trying to trick you. We don't need to take the risk. Just put him in irons and we'll take him to Culdeny after we've held Bracksford."

"But you don't want me in a cage, do you Dante?" Pacian purred. "You want to beat me, fair and square, just like you always wanted to." Silence fell as Colt mulled over the proposal.

"Alright, we'll fight this one out, you and me," the big man finally announced. "But I should warn you — since I'm the honourable one here — that I won't be holding back. I'm going to kill you, and your chums had better quit the field or we're going to slaughter them as well."

"Do what you have to do," Pacian agreed, much to the disbelief of Aiden and the others.

"I should launch the attack immediately," Sir Gabriel grated. "How dare he take such action without consulting me!"

"You wouldn't interfere with an honourable duel between two men, would you?" Robert asked pointedly. The general appeared flustered at this, but his stiff code of honour wouldn't permit him to be the one to break the accord. "Good, so, we're going to lay down our arms under a flag of truce and watch that skinny bastard do our fighting for us."

"And if he loses?" Sir Gabriel asked.

"I'll leave that up to you," Robert replied, leaving the general to muse over his options. The white flag went up over the distant battlements and they slowly walked forward to watch Pacian fight for all their lives.

Chapter Fifteen

Although both sides raised the flag of parley, Sir Gabriel ordered his men to hold position while Aiden and his companions walked across the field. The general himself joined them only reluctantly, having little faith the enemy would not seize upon the opportunity to strike them down as soon as they were within range of their deadly longbows. If Aiden didn't know the Aielish commander, he might have held doubts as well, but he knew Colt well enough to know if he was going to kill them, it would be face to face and not through duplicity.

Still, it was disconcerting to note the rangers stationed on the wall kept their longbows at the ready, the lack of trust from both sides on full display. Colt emerged from the gate with half a dozen of his command — including Mona — to even out the numbers on the field, as was the custom.

Pacian stood before them like a man on trial awaiting a verdict. He had removed his robe and stripped to the waist, his white hair flowing in the strong breeze as he was slowly surrounded by their enemies.

"Aiden? Princess Criosa?" Colt grunted in astonishment when he saw who it was approaching from across the field. "I hadn't expected to see either of you ever again after your escape in Fairloch, much less walking side by side with these scumbags. You never struck me as the treasonous type. And you, Nellise. I thought you were a patriot?"

"I do as my conscience demands," she replied confidently. "We tried ending this peacefully, but were thrown in prison for our meddling. The king is not himself, and we will stop this war because nobody else can."

"Switching sides wasn't part of the plan, but one must roll with the changes," Aiden added evenly. "It's good to see you again."

"You're gonna feel differently when I break Pacian in half," Colt growled as Mona helped him out of his camouflage leathers. The elf appeared exactly as she had the last time Aiden had seen her, with her long, flowing honey-coloured hair and large green eyes giving her an alien appearance. Colt had lost weight and appeared very fit, a stark contrast to the bulky drunk he'd been when they had first met. "And I don't like you talkin' foul about the king, either. For God's sake we fought for the man. You can't give him the benefit of the doubt and think that maybe, he knows what he's doing?"

"I did that for two years Dante, and I can't do it anymore," Nellise replied sadly. "This whole affair has gone beyond all reason, and we have to end it."

"Well, I'm about to kill your murdering friend and put the rest of you in prison until such time as we win the war," Colt remarked, spitting on the ground as he did so. "Sorry if that upsets your plans."

"I urge you both to reconsider," Criosa insisted. "There are better ways to negotiate this than beating each other senseless."

"I think it's a pretty good way to get it done, actually," Colt remarked, flexing his arms. He was powerfully built as always, and towered over the much slimmer Pacian. "One man puts their life on the line instead of hundreds of others. Pity you're going to have to die to show how well it works, but to be honest, that's the only reason I'm doing this. We've unfinished business, you and I."

"We do," Pacian agreed with more than a hint of fatalism in his voice.

"Bloody men," Criosa huffed, crossing her arms in disgust.

"Do you have a quarterstaff handy?" Pacian asked lightly. "I lost mine when I stuck it into the mouth of a dragon we killed a couple of days ago." Colt laughed derisively at this, but when he looked at Nellise, the cleric's sober nod made the big man's smile vanish. Mona tossed a sturdy quarterstaff to Pacian, who caught it and twirled it around expertly to gain a feel of its balance. To Aiden's surprise, Colt drew out his massive greatsword and held it at the ready.

"You intend to use that thing instead of a staff?" Sir Gabriel pointed out. "A duel should be fought with identical weapons."

"I chose swords, so he's welcome to grab a one of his own," Colt grunted.

"This will do me just fine," Pacian added, satisfied with his staff.

"See? He's fine. Now shut up and let us fight." Colt said, immediately circling Pacian slowly, sword at the ready. The dozen onlookers formed an circle around the duelling men, without coming so close that an errant sword swing would jeopardise their safety.

Colt suddenly moved in, swinging his sword. Pacian flipped backwards in a blink of the eye, allowing the blade to slice through the air harmlessly. Colt continued the stroke and raised the sword up high, bringing it down towards Pacian's head. Again he dodged the deadly blade with ease, watching as it slammed into the ground where he'd been standing a moment before.

In a flash, Pacian leaped forward and pummelled Colt with a flurry of strikes, cracking him on the knuckles and forearms in rapid succession. The big man grunted but managed to keep a grip on his sword, pulling it from the ground with a mighty heave and using it to fend off Pacian's attack. Colt found a gap in his defences and managed to smash the hilt of his sword against the side of Pacian's head.

Reeling from the blow, he staggered backwards, giving Colt ample time to bring his sword around in a sweeping arc which should have cut Pacian in half. Even in his addled state, the ascetic knew how dangerous his opponent was and rolled with the blow, catching only the tip of the blade across his chest instead. A line of blood appeared as he whirled around, thrusting the tip of his staff towards his opponent.

Colt caught the blow on his shoulder, shoving him off balance for a moment. Pacian kept the momentum going and whirled his staff around, striking the big man again and again to prevent him from recovering. Colt doubled over as he was hit in the guts, letting out an explosive surge of breath as the wind left his lungs. The ranger stumbled to his knees, gasping for breath as the sword fell from his hands. Pacian stood over the prone man with his staff pointing at his throat.

"I think we're done here," Pacian said between heavy breaths. "Yield." Colt didn't respond for a long moment, and Aiden thought the fight was indeed over until the big man kicked Pacian's legs out from under him. The staff was pulled from his hands and tossed aside as Colt rose to his feet and kicked Pacian in the gut before he could recover.

Colt made the mistake of heading for his sword, however, and just as he grasped the hilt, Pacian lunged and sent the big man rolling onto the ground.

"I can see you've had some training," the big man observed, wiping blood from his mouth as he slowly stood up again. "But you're still holding back."

"I don't want to kill you," Pacian explained, pausing to pick up his staff as Colt grasped his sword.

"Sure you do," the ranger insisted. "You may have learned some fancy moves, but there's still a killer underneath that old man hair. Come on, show me what you've got!" Colt growled and heaved his sword at Pacian once more, hitting empty air as the ascetic arched backwards to avoid the blade.

Aiden, watching the fight with intense interest, knew Colt was right — Pacian was holding back. Aiden had seen his old friend take on greater numbers than this in the engagement at Le Bastion in southern Tulsone with ease, but since Colt pointed out this fact, Pace seemed even less inclined to harm the big man.

"Stop lying to yourself and kill me already," Colt roared as he failed to connect with his target time and time again. Pacian seemed able to keep this up for as long as Colt could swing his sword, but sooner or later the ascetic would make a mistake and it would be all over.

As Aiden was thinking this, the edge of Colt's blade caught Pace on the arm, leaving a nasty gash running lengthways towards his elbow. Pacian rolled with the hit and managed to keep his arm connected to the rest of his body. He spun a full circle and came around with his staff extended, clearly intending to strike Colt on the side of his face, but the big man proved once more how cunning he was in a fight.

After the sword has swept past Pacian, Colt used the momentum to charge directly at the ascetic, shoulder-first. He slammed into the ascetic's side and the impact sent him tumbling across the ground. Breathing hard, Colt regained his balance and brought his sword up high, but to his surprise, Pacian was already back on his feet, and with outstretched arms covered in blood, he cracked the staff into Colt's forearm.

The big man roared in pain and the sword fell from his limp grasp. Sensing an opportunity, Colt suddenly charged straight at him and sent a haymaker straight at his face.

Pacian dived to the side, but still caught some of the blow, sending him into the ground at a strange angle. Colt didn't relent this time, however. He crouched over Pacian before he could regain his footing and began to pummel the ascetic with his fist. Aiden cringed at the barbaric display and couldn't help but turn away. He'd seen men killed in battle before, but his past history with Pacian made the scene too horrible to bear witness to.

He caught a glimpse of Sir Gabriel turning away from the fight. His gaze seemed intent upon the distant tree line, where the rest of his soldiers stood awaiting the result of the duel. As he began to raise a hand, Sayana suddenly appeared before the general, gazing up at him with accusing green eyes.

"If you're thinking of breaking the truce and signalling your men to attack," she remarked quietly, "don't." If it had been anyone else, Sir Gabriel might have ignored the advice, but Sayana's reputation said more than her words ever could. With only a slight tremor visible in his hand, Sir Gabriel changed his mind and turned back to watch the fight. Sayana exchanged a glance with Aiden, who gave her a slight nod of approval.

The grisly sounds of the beating had stopped, prompting Aiden to turn back to the fight. Colt stood over Pacian before staggering to where his sword lay. The ascetic was a bloody mess, but apparently still conscious.

"You're still a lightweight," Colt muttered as he grasped his massive blade with one hand. "Let's get this over with." He dragged it behind him as he lurched back to where Pacian still lay, intent on finishing the fight in the most undisputable way possible. Pacian must have been on the verge of passing out, for he hardly moved at all. Aiden noticed he was grasping something small in his left hand.

As Colt approached, Pacian suddenly burst into motion. He kicked Colt directly on the knee, causing Aiden to wince as it bent the wrong way and sent Colt to the ground. Pacian flipped back onto his feet and immediately set upon the ranger, a roar of inarticulate rage issuing from his mouth as he pummelled the big man over and over again.

When Pacian pulled back, Colt was just as wounded as Pacian had appeared a moment ago. The look on his face was one of murderous fury as he ran straight at Criosa. The princess was aghast at his appearance but too stunned to react as Pacian pulled the dagger from her hip, and marched straight back to where Colt lay. It was the same dagger he'd used to kill countless other men, including one of his closest friends, and was about to add another life to its grisly tally.

"Yeah, let's get this over with," Pacian growled through gritted teeth as he held the vythiric dagger to Colt's throat.

"Pace!" Nellise screamed in protest. He looked up at her and they locked eyes for a long moment. Aiden held his breath as he watched, unsure if Pacian would heed her or end Colt's life in one swift blow. Colt, barely coherent, looked up at him, patiently awaiting the result as the fury faded from Pacian's visage.

"You'll always be a killer," the ranger said weakly through his broken lips. "Wearing that robe won't change anything."

Pacian's arm suddenly shot forward, but instead of driving the tip into Colt's throat, he slammed the hilt into the side of his head, knocking him out cold. Pacian slowly stood up, victorious. He slowly moved back over to Criosa and handed the dagger back to her, hilt first. The weapon was covered with blood, both Pacian's and Colt's, and the princess took it gingerly between two fingers.

"It's over," Mona declared, moving to Colt's side to check his pulse. "We will surrender peacefully, as promised."

"If only all wars could be fought like this," Aiden remarked dourly, watching as Pacian left the circle of onlookers and stalked off to be on his own. Nellise watched him go, and seemed for a moment as if she would follow, but then reconsidered and went to Colt's side instead. She was about to begin healing him when she noticed something of interest on the ground.

"Pacian's crystal," she remarked quietly as Aiden leaned in for a closer look. "While he was lying there, seemingly on the verge of passing out, he was actually healing his wounds."

"Something Colt probably didn't expect," Aiden noted. "Why did Pace leave it here though?"

"He might not feel worthy of it anymore," she whispered, idly caressing the small stone in her hand. She dropped it into her pouch and focused on her patient as Mona watched with concern. Aiden noticed Criosa, still standing nearby with the dagger held before her. He went to her side and took the bloody weapon away from her, and began cleaning it with a piece of cloth from his pouch.

"I don't want that thing anymore," she said quietly.

"I don't blame you," Aiden replied. "I'll hang onto it for now."

"So, what happens next?" she asked, to change the topic. Around them, the defenders of Bracksford were putting down their weapons, and the Tulsonite force was approaching from across the field on a signal from Sir Gabriel. Although it had cost him greatly, Pacian had managed to succeed in averting needless bloodshed.

"Ordinarily we'd probably take them as prisoners, but we don't have the time or manpower to keep watch on them," Aiden said. "We'll have to see what the general can come up with."

Once the Aielunder's weapons had been gathered up, Sir Gabriel met with his officers to discuss options. Criosa wasn't about to be left on the sidelines, however, and promptly inserted herself into the conversation. Aiden couldn't follow anything they were saying in Tuscara, but the princess certainly had a lot to say. Robert stood nearby, smoking a cigar as he paid close attention to the discussion.

"Are you getting any of that?" Aiden asked as he headed over to stand by the mercenary.

"Most of it, yeah," he confirmed.

"They're almost yelling at one another."

"Sure are."

"Care to enlighten me?" Aiden prompted impatiently.

"Her Highness has suggested the captured Aielish soldiers join with ours," Robert remarked impassively. "The gallant general is having a problem with this concept." Aiden gazed at the assembled Aielish soldiers — mostly rangers, with a few militia thrown in for good measure. They were clearly despondent at the sudden turn of events, and Aiden couldn't judge if they'd be interested in joining forces with their enemies.

"What do you think?" he asked of Robert.

"A few minutes ago they seemed ready to fight to the death, so they probably have some reservations about switching sides. Gabe should probably offer them some money for their troubles — it'd work for me." Before Aiden could respond to this statement, Robert spat out his cigar and swore under his breath, then stormed over to where the general was deep in conversation.

"What is it?" Aiden hissed as he followed the mercenary

"He's planning to kill all of the prisoners," Robert exclaimed as he burst through the surrounding officers to confront Sir Gabriel directly.

"Commander, it's always a pleasure," the general remarked dourly, subtly signalling his men to stand fast.

"You're not killing these men, not while I'm still drawing breath," Robert growled.

"We cannot take them with us, we cannot leave anyone behind to hold them prisoner, and the very notion of bringing potential spies into our ranks leaves but one option," Sir Gabriel explained with cold precision.

"It's not their fault they're caught up in this," Robert pressed. "You don't get to be executioner just because they're inconvenient."

"I do not relish the idea of slaughtering helpless men, but the success of our mission must come first. I am, of course, open to any suggestions you might have."

"Are you some kind of idiot? Take their weapons and let them go," Robert advised with his usual decorum.

"Out of the question," Sir Gabriel scoffed. "They may alert others of our presence on this side of the border."

"Has anyone thought to ask what they think?" Criosa interjected, silencing the men. She looked around with a raised eyebrow, then promptly turned and crooked a finger in Mona's direction. The elf maiden strolled languidly over to join their little group, leaving hardly a trace of her passage through the tall blades of grass.

Criosa, with some help from Aiden, explained to her the nature of their mission. Mona listened silently, her face an unreadable mask, even when Criosa mentioned their goal as the downfall of her father's reign. Only when the princess had finished explaining her idea of joining forces with the rangers did Mona finally speak.

"My participation in the battle today was a sign of my commitment to Dante, not the realm as a whole," she said, her voice smooth and melodious. "I owe Seamus no loyalty, and have no stake in the outcome of this war. If Dante were conscious, he would object in the strongest possible terms to the merest suggestion of switching allegiances... but fortunately for us, he is unable to voice his opinion at this time."

"Does this mean you agree?" Criosa asked hopefully.

"Your next target is Culdeny, yes?" Mona asked of Sir Gabriel, who replied with a stiff nod. "As the current commander of the rangers in Bracksford, I will not force them to aid the attack on Culdeny itself, but I will take my people northeast to Lachburne. Dante has a rapport with the mayor of that town, and we may be able to convince them to stand aside for the remained of the war, and possibly even aid us."

"And what of Fairloch?" Aiden pressed.

"Again, I cannot force my command to attack their own countrymen, but we will scout ahead of the main force on the approach to Fairloch. We will attempt to gain discreet access to the city and seek out the Ironlord. When you make your assault, we will support your efforts to eliminate it, and anyone who attempts to protect it."

Criosa raised an eyebrow at Sir Gabriel, daring him to turn down the offer. The general looked at Mona with searching eyes, as if attempting to find any sign of duplicity in the elf's calm demeanour. There was none.

"If you were human, I doubt I would trust your word," he finally said, offering his hand to the tall elven woman, who shook it firmly. "The reputation of your people precedes you, my lady, so I accept this alliance without reservation."

"I'm suddenly very glad Colt was knocked out," Aiden whispered to Criosa, who nodded her agreement.

"Very well, we will make camp here for the night, make use of whatever this town has to offer, and allow my men to recover from their trials in the Fens. Tomorrow at first light, we make for Culdeny with all speed. We will speak again at dawn."

With that, the general ordered his men to release the prisoners, while he and Mona explained the situation to the rangers. Halfway through her speech, Nellise finally managed to rouse Colt from his nap. He turned red in the face at the news he was now fighting alongside the Tulsonite force, but kept silent until he could pull Mona to one side for a private discussion.

Although there was tension between the soldiers, they seemed unwilling to disobey orders and start a fight. Mona made the decision early on to keep them separate, and Aiden silently praised her idea of going off on their own instead of trying to make them attack Culdeny and Fairloch alongside the general's men.

"Pacian made the right move," Robert confided to Criosa and Aiden as the small army moved into Bracksford looking for any supplies they could make use of. "Instead of a pointless slaughter, we've added dozens of experienced archers to the cause. I think I owe that kid an apology, he's got balls the size of—"

"Where is he, by the way?" Criosa interrupted with perfect timing.

"Talking with Nel, where else?" Robert replied as he moved to join the rest of his men in town.

"Why don't you head to the inn while I check on him?" Aiden suggested to the princess. "You might be able to run a bath and put your feet up for the night." They could all use a wash. The trip through the Fens had left them caked in foul-smelling mud.

"Bath..." she whispered dreamily, as her feet began moving her towards the gate of their own accord. "Yes, let's do that thing you said."

Aiden grinned as he headed off, but his smile faded when he spotted Pacian and Nellise together near a small copse of trees. He headed over there with the intention of giving his old friend some much-needed support, but as he reached the trees, he heard them speaking of personal matters. Aiden hesitated in mid-step, and told himself he should be walking the other direction, but he desperately wanted to know what state the ascetic was in.

"I'm getting as bad as Criosa," he muttered to himself as he leaned against the tree and eavesdropped on their conversation.

"I'm not leaving your side until you answer," Nellise told Pacian firmly as they sat on the grass in the shade.

"The fight had to be stopped before it started," the ascetic replied as she gingerly cleaned the blood from his face with a damp piece of cloth. "Every life I save helps balance out the lives I took. Cosmic harmony, and all that."

"Don't be glib," Nellise chastised him. "I detected a degree of self-destruction in your choice, and your conduct during the duel. Why start a fight and then refuse to finish it?"

"I did finish it," Pacian reminded her. "You could ask Colt, but I'm sure he wouldn't remember anything."

"He's lucky to still be breathing," Nellise whispered. "You almost killed him, Pace." He was silent for a long moment before answering and when he finally did, his voice had lost the pleasant overtones he had been speaking with since their reunion in the desert.

"Colt's right, you know," he pointed out grimly. "Two years at the monastery and a few good deeds doesn't gloss over the things I've done. I can't bring back the dead, Nel, and if I don't watch myself closely, I'll be adding to their number."

"You just had a little slip-up, that's all," Nellise offered in comfort. "I'm here with you, and I won't let you kill anyone again."

"He was a lot tougher than I thought, and only half as dumb," Pacian went on in a voice like gravel. "I had to tap into something else to win that fight."

"Yes, I found your crystal. Kylaris was with you, and believes in you, Pace. You just need to keep your faith."

"You don't understand," Pacian said with a level stare at the beautiful cleric. "I tried prayer but it didn't work. Nothing happened. I was too beat up to concentrate or clear my head, and all my years of training vanished. So, I dug deep into myself to find the strength to go on, and it wasn't Kylaris, or good memories or any of that shit. It was hate, pure and simple hate that got me on my feet, the kind I used to feel back when we first met. And it felt good, like putting on an old pair of gloves."

Nellise's golden eyes were wide as she stared into his, but she didn't have anything to say. Aiden was taken aback by the revelation of how difficult his old friend's struggle had truly been, but the prospect of Pacian returning to his old ways wasn't something he was pleased to hear.

"My master would tell me I lost control and I simply need to maintain discipline, but here, out in the world, none of that seems to matter so much anymore. This is a war, and it's no place for a monk looking to better himself. It's time I started to accept who I truly am, what I truly am — a killer. We're through the Fens now, so I should probably leave, but I don't think the monastery is the place for me anymore. Two years of that did practically nothing for me."

Nellise continued to wipe his face with the cloth, her every move measured and calm as her face covered whatever she might have been thinking. The silence was interrupted by the breeze through the grass and the birds in the sky until she finally spoke.

"If that is how you truly feel," she began, "if you believe you have no chance of redeeming yourself, and the only thing you have to offer is the taking of life, then you may as well stay with us and fight, for once this war is over there is no place for you in society. There are many ways to serve, Pace. If you really are nothing more than a killer, then at least channel your demons to a constructive cause and help us take back the kingdom."

Aiden was taken aback by the coldness of her speech, and judging by Pacian's silence, so was he. They spoke no more as she continued to tend to his injuries, and Aiden eventually crept away to leave them in peace, his thoughts troubled by what he had overheard.

* * *

The evening was spent cleaning, eating and resting in preparation for the next leg of their journey. Criosa, Nellise and Sayana took over the baths for many hours, and emerged practically gleaming in the torchlight.

When he finally had a chance to bathe, Aiden made sure he had the place to himself despite Criosa's subtle suggestion that they might lock themselves in for the night. Aiden reminded her he was still nursing some injuries and excused himself from any amorous activities.

Ordinarily he would have jumped at the chance for more time alone with her, but the itching under his sleeve reminded him of the changes going on within his body. He wasn't sure when it was a good time to mention all of this to Criosa, but he was sure that now was definitely not the time. Perhaps once they had secured Fairloch and they had restored the peace, he would show her — if the scales were still there.

Regrettably, as he lowered himself down into the cool waters of the tub, the scales glimmered in the dim light, but he thought the area they were covering had receded a little. By the time he returned to the inn and found his bed, Criosa was already fast asleep, for which he was grateful. His shirt would cover the scales and with luck, she wouldn't notice them during the night.

He awoke the next morning with no recollection of his dreams, although judging from the twisted blankets he must have been moving around quite a lot. Aiden wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not, given the nature of his dreams of late. Criosa was still asleep next to him, so he counted his blessings, dressed himself and crept out of the room before she woke. It occurred to him that the room they'd just slept in was the same one he had used when first arriving at Bracksford, years before.

Smiling with nostalgia, Aiden went down the stairs to an empty common room. Noticing light streaming in through the windows, he stepped outside and was somewhat startled to see Sir Gabriel's force had already left. Approaching from down the road was Robert Black, fully equipped and ready to travel.

"You two sure can sleep, assuming that's what was going on up there," he muttered around his ever-present cigar as he approached. Its wafting smoke added an acrid aroma to what was otherwise a pleasant summer's morning.

"Where is everyone?" Aiden asked.

"By 'everyone' I assume you mean your associates. They're ransacking the town for supplies. The general had everyone else up before dawn, but refused to disturb Her Highness out of courtesy. That man really needs to see a surgeon about the pole up his ass."

"You're not going with the army?"

"No, I'm not," Robert replied. "Sayana and I had a little talk last night. I'm not gonna lie, there may have been some slapping going on. But the upshot of it is she's going to give me another chance. That means I'm travelling with you again, just like old times, but with a completely different woman treating me like dirt." Aiden recalled Criosa taking a lot of joy in making sure the mercenary was kept firmly under her thumb during their last association, and rather enjoyed the thought of Sayana carrying on the tradition.

"You seem to have a lot of trouble with women in your life, mate," Aiden pointed out. "So, you're ready to leave?"

"Just waiting on you two. I just said goodbye to Mona and Colt at the North gate and was on my way to drag you both out of bed, so yeah, good timing on your part."

"I'll go and wake the princess," Aiden muttered, but was stopped when Robert grasped him on the forearm with one armoured hand.

"Do you remember what I said about you two a couple of years back?" he inquired with quiet intensity.

"You said something about her treating me like a diversion until she gets married off to some other prince," Aiden replied dryly. "I don't think that's an issue anymore."

"We're planning to take down the king and put her on the throne, Aiden," Robert pointed out. "It's more of an issue than ever. You are your own man, and you make your own decisions, but that woman is going to be queen, and queens need kings. Are you a king, Aiden?"

"I hear what you're saying, but it's not going to turn out like that," Aiden assured him dourly. "We'll be ready to travel within the hour, make sure everyone else is ready to go." He headed for the stairs, trying to shrug off the thoughts Robert had planted in his mind. Love conquered all challenges, after all.

Chapter Sixteen

Soon they left Bracksford behind, as they set out upon the eastern road. It had been a strange visit, as if walking through a memory of a familiar place, but devoid of the things that made it so welcoming — the people. Even the terrain gave Aiden moments of homesickness, for while their journey would take them close to Coldstream, he dare not visit his childhood home, for he and his companions had been branded as traitors and their presence would only cause trouble.

Aiden idly wondered how his parents were faring, for he had not spoken to them for months before his incarceration. Although proud of his ascension to the ranks of nobility, his father had still seemed distant on their last meeting. He knew the problem of course — his father disapproved of Aiden's choice to leave home in the first place, and to take the lives of others along the way. Aiden couldn't disagree with that perspective, but he had only ever done so in the cause of ending conflict.

He dismissed these introspective thoughts and focused on the road before them. Although it was quite warm, the temperature was far more bearable than had been the arid and swampy lands they had travelled through. Dark, brooding clouds were forming in the south and heading their way, one of the frequent storms that lashed Aielund during the summer months.

Despite the heat, Pacian kept his hood up as he walked at the rear of the group. Aiden heard Colt had been in a sour mood that morning and had threatened to simply drag Pacian along in chains, but cooler heads had prevailed.

In stark contrast to the silence from Pacian, Sayana and Robert were chatting to each other while leading them down the road. Aiden wasn't quite close enough to make out any words, but the two certainly had a lot to talk about. What was even more startling was the occasional laugh they heard from her, something he'd rarely heard from Sayana.

The princess nudged Aiden and gestured at them, hinting at her desire to move in and eavesdrop. She began to move faster to catch up, but Aiden put a hand on her arm and brought her up short.

"I'm putting a stop to that," he informed her quietly but firmly. Criosa seemed to pout at this concept, made all the worse when Sayana suddenly slapped Robert on the face for no apparent reason. The mercenary spread his arms wide, proclaiming innocence, and the two returned to their conversation moments later.

Sayana suddenly stopped in the middle of the road and crouched down to look at something near her feet. Robert warily kept his eyes on their surroundings as Aiden and the rest caught up with them.

"Although the road has been mostly dry and devoid of markings, I can make out tracks here," Sayana informed them.

"It would probably be the population of Bracksford heading east," Nellise suggested. "I imagine they went to Coldstream for shelter.

"That would be my guess," Sayana confirmed.

"I'm sure they're fine," Robert added. "Let's keep going, I don't like how exposed we are out here."

"Do you think there's any danger?" Criosa asked.

"We're in the middle of a country at war, of course there's danger," Robert scoffed. "Even if we're not on the front lines, banditry runs rampant in wartime. Just keep your eyes peeled."

"I always do," Criosa replied evenly. They kept walking, but after the mercenary's blunt assessment they were even more cautious than before. This caution was borne out a short time later when Sayana once more had something to report.

"Something big happened here," she explained, pointing at a number of markings on the uneven ground. She was about to elaborate, but instead became caught up in unravelling the mystery before her. She skittered over the ground, moving from place to place to make sense of it all. Robert placed one armoured hand on hilt of his sword and kept a silent vigil while Sayana went about her work.

"I take it this is more than a simple exodus," Criosa remarked impatiently.

"They were running in all directions, and there are many more boot prints here than before," Sayana said. "I think they were ambushed." Pacian stepped forward and looked at the scene for a moment, then cast an expert eye at the surrounding vegetation. He tore aside some shrubbery and revealed a body with three broken arrow shafts stuck in it. Robert swore under his breath while Sayana looked to Pacian in confusion.

"The trail leading to that body has been covered up. How did you know it was there?" she asked in disbelief.

"That's where I'd hide a body," he replied grimly. "And I bet there's more around here, too." Aiden moved in for a closer look, wrinkling his nose at the pungent smell. It was a civilian of advancing years, with tough leathery skin and a wiry frame.

"Probably a farmer," Aiden surmised in a flat voice. He'd seen too many dead in his life already. Robert and Pacian scoured the surrounding land and uncovered half a dozen more, but two of them were different to the others.

"Aielish regulars, judging by the equipment," Robert sniffed disapprovingly. "Deserters turned to banditry. I hate it when I'm right."

"What happened to the townsfolk?" Nellise asked Sayana.

"They left the road and headed south," she replied. "A few stayed behind to cover their escape. We've already found their remains." Aiden felt the urge to swear. A disaster had befallen the people of Bracksford and there was nobody else around to help them.

"I know what we're all thinking," he said. "Do we have time to find out what happened to them, or press on?"

"How can you even ask that?" Nellise asked in disbelief.

"Because we have something far more important to be doing, and not much time to get it done," Aiden explained logically.

"The assault on Fairloch can't begin until Sir Gabriel gets there with the siege engines," Robert said, his expression showed he was calculating the numbers in his mind. I figure three days to get to Culdeny, five days — at best — to reach Fairloch through the mountain pass, although that depends on the melt. So that's eight days assuming Culdeny falls in one, which is unlikely."

"They may see the worth in surrendering, and perhaps even joining the cause against the king," Criosa offered hopefully.

"Maybe, but I wouldn't put money on it," Robert grunted. "You saw how hard it was for Bracksford to surrender. The point is we could be at Fairloch in six days, so yeah, we've got time."

"Sy, can you follow their trail?" Nellise asked as she took out her double crossbow and began to load it.

"A dozen people running through the brush? Yes, even if I had been struck blind," she assured them.

"Do it," Aiden urged. Sayana nodded and immediately led them off the road and into the wilds. It wasn't exactly a forest, but the trees became denser as they travelled. A mile or so later, more bodies were discovered. It came as no small relief to Aiden when Sayana reported the civilians had escaped again, despite losing two of their number in a skirmish.

After another hour or so, the storm which had been building in the sky all morning, finally unleashed a torrent of rain and an impressive display of lightning. At one point it became so fierce they were forced to take shelter under a rocky outcrop until it subsided.

"As much as I like being back in Aielund, the weather leaves a lot to be desired," Robert shouted during the downpour. "Is there any chance at all this isn't going to wash away the tracks?"

"None," Sayana replied helplessly, her wild red hair plastered against her fair skin. "We can keep heading in the same direction and hope to stumble across them, but I can't guarantee more than that."

"That's what I thought," Robert muttered.

"I may be able to provide more than a direction," Nellise added, pulling out her necklace from underneath her breastplate. The tiny halo-ringed sword of Kylaris hung at the end of it, and she gripped it in one wet fist as her eyes gazed unfocused towards the horizon.

"I can never quite fathom what she's doing when she does this," Aiden whispered to Pacian, his voice barely audible over the storm.

"Seeking advice," the ascetic replied dryly.

"I'd be surprised if she could hear anything in this racket."

"It's not a voice, so much as a feeling of someone speaking to you," Pacian struggled to explain.

"Is that something you can do?"

"Kylaris and I aren't on speaking terms anymore," Pacian replied, stepping away from him to stare out at the rain. Aiden considered pursuing this further when Nellise's eyes snapped back to reality.

"I know precisely where they are," she declared with no small measure of surprise. "Never have I received such a clear answer. Come, we haven't much time!" With that, she pulled up her hood and led them back out into the terrible conditions, taking the lead from Sayana.

The rain continued unabated for hours, with Nellise urgently pulling them along a path only she could see. A brief stop for a quick bite to eat was all she permitted, before insisting they press on as quickly as possible. The downpour had diminished a great deal at this point, and through the surrounding trees Aiden could see stone plinths rising from the ground.

"The Bracksfordshire graveyard," he said in recognition. Dozens of graves stretched out before them, and rising beyond the far tree line was roof of a mausoleum that was also familiar to him.

"We are near the place we camped at after fleeing Akoran territory," Nellise explained to the others with only a hint of tightness in her voice. "The people of Bracksford are sheltering within the mausoleum which lies beyond. That is why my augury was so strong — they reside on hallowed ground."

The mausoleum was only a short walk away, almost buried under the wild growth of vines and other entangling plants. The stone doorway had been cleared of obstruction and sported deep gouges from a battering it had recently endured. A keyhole was visible near the edge of the door, although it had been jammed with sticks and rocks, evidence of the someone's earlier attempts to gain entry.

Pacian quickly cleared the keyhole and took a close look at the mechanism embedded within the stone, while the rest of them kept watch.

"The lock has been broken," Pacian declared after a cursory inspection. "We might have to use something a bit heavier to get inside."

"Too loud," Robert said. "Maybe someone should try knocking and explain we're here to help them? Nel, give it a try, they'll probably listen to a woman's voice." She stepped up to the door and knocked on the damaged surface with her iron-clad hands as loudly as she dared.

"Is anyone in there? I am Nellise Sannemann, and I have come to help you." Robert gave her an appreciative nod as they waited for signs of life from within. Aiden licked his lips in apprehension when he heard the distinctive sounds of armoured footsteps from amongst the trees. The sound of a heavy bar being moved from within caught their attention, and within moments the doorway swung inwards, revealing a heavy-set old man with white hair, and the leathery skin of one who had spent most of his life outdoors.

"Dame Nellise, I can hardly believe it's you," he mumbled. He seemed exhausted, but held a short sword firmly in one hand.

"David Patel, right?" Nellise asked, recognising the retired ranger from Bracksford.

"Yes, we have wounded in here," David responded.

"I sense movement amongst the trees," Sayana hissed, glancing around for signs of trouble."

"Let's get inside," Nellise ordered. David stepped aside as everyone hurried past him into the darkness of the tomb. The sound of their footsteps upon the stairs leading down echoed along the interior of the stone passage, lit only by a sputtering torch up from ahead. A dank, musty odour permeated the air, much like the smell when opening an old book, but far stronger.

An ominous booming sound signalled the door had closed behind them, sealing them in. Aiden continued heading towards the light, and noticed it was being held by a young girl who stood at a junction.

"Halt, who goes there?" she cried, her shaking hand brandishing a fearsome-looking butter knife. Cowering behind her in the shadows was a small boy, who clung to the back of her as a drowning man held on to a branch. Aiden stood before her, unsure what to make of the pint-sized warrior until she swung the knife threateningly in his direction.

"Be careful where you point that thing," he advised. "You might get butter all over me." Although tired, the girl burst out in nervous laughter at his mildly amusing joke.
"Easy there, Ace," David Patel reassured the little girl. "These are friends who've come to help us out." Criosa knelt down before her with a warm smile and the girl lowered her weapon.

"Princess Criosa!" the girl blurted.

"I'm glad someone remembers me," Criosa lamented. "Your name is Ace?"

"Aislin," she answered, "but my friends call me Ace."

"Are you on guard duty, Ace?"

"Yes, there are a lot of bad people outside, but I won't let them hurt anyone else," she replied with only a slight quiver to her voice.

"Is your father around here somewhere?" Aiden asked, remembering the burly innkeeper from the Bracksfordshire Arms inn.

"He's resting in there, with everyone else," Aislin replied, pointing through the archway. "He was hurt on the way here protecting us from those bastards upstairs."

"Ace, you swore!" the little boy hissed at her.

"That's what he called them," she protested.

"Tom Ballard took a beating when the bandits stopped us on the road," David explained gruffly. "He's in pretty bad shape, along with eight others. We've done what we can, but I don't know if it's enough."

"Let me take a look," Nellise offered. David nodded and gestured for her to walk through the arch. A thundering series of impacts echoed through the passage, drawing their eyes towards the door.

"So, that would be the ones who attacked you on the highway?" Aiden asked.

"Yes, a bunch of Aielish deserters, trying to get our supplies," David replied. "They're just a bunch of thugs, but they outnumber us and we can't get out of here without dealing with them first."

"We'll figure something out," Robert grunted, unfazed by the constant thumping on the door. They moved though the archway and into a large, open area easily twenty yards across and twice that in width. It was filled with the sort of objects one would expect to find in a tomb — stone coffins on raised biers and recessed gaps lining the wall with more coffins of lesser worth. But it was the two dozen or more people who huddled near the torches illuminating the place which caught Aiden's eye.

He recognised more than a few faces, but all of them bore the strain of the past few days and more. There were no fit young men present, for they were either fighting in the war, or had already perished during the prolonged conflict. Upon those careworn faces Aiden saw the ultimate price the people of Aielund had paid and he couldn't absolve his own role sending their youth off to die.

"You handle yourself like an old warrior," Robert remarked to David, shaking Aiden out of his reverie. "I reckon there would be a few like you in the mix, am I right?"

"I used to be a ranger, and Tom retired from mercenary work guarding caravans back in the day," David confirmed. "You've got a good eye, mate."

"I should hope so, it's the only one I've got left. You and your mates have done well getting these people to safety at no small cost to yourselves. I respect that."

"We're doing what we can, but it's been barely enough," David confessed. "If Olaf hadn't thought to bring the key to this place, we would have been caught out on the road. It could have been a lot bloodier."

"Who's Olaf?" Robert asked, and received a pointed finger from the old ranger in reply. Aiden caught this and looked over at the mayor of Bracksford reclining against the stone wall while he held one arm across his stomach. His fine clothing was stained with blood, and his face was pale and drawn. Nellise was inspecting his wound closely, but her expression didn't give the man much hope.

"Lord Aiden," Olaf whispered painfully as the three men approached. "I had thought you lost when the Crown issued a statement concerning your death."

"Well, you know us traitors, always getting ourselves killed and whatnot," Aiden replied blandly.

"I never believed that tripe for a moment," the mayor coughed. "I've seen how you comport yourself under pressure, sir."

"Hold still and rest, Olaf," Nellise gently advised. "You've lost too much blood, and your innards are a mess."

"Yes, I can see them perfectly well from here," the mayor croaked. "Deserters — a disagreeable bunch."

"They went straight for him when they ambushed us on the road," David explained. "He took a sword to the gut when he refused to give them what they wanted.

"What was that?" Aiden inquired.

"My money, and all the women," Olaf spat. "I would have given them all of my gold sovereigns had they been reasonable, but once their intentions became clear, David had a few things to say to them."

"I let my sword do the talking," the old ranger growled. "No man touches my wife." He looked across the room to where a lovely lady half his age was handing out food to the children. Criosa, having circulated around the room to reassure everyone, made her way to Olaf's side with a look of fond regret on her face.

"Your Highness," Olaf breathed. "Your father will be so relieved to learn you are still alive."

"Not as much as you might think," Criosa hedged. "When next we meet, I will be asking for him to step down from the throne. Nel, is he going to make it?"

"I wish I could do more, but all the prayers in the world won't replace all the blood you've lost," Nellise sighed. "I'm so sorry Olaf, this wound is too deep. I'm going to give you something for the pain."

"Not to worry, my dear Nellise," Olaf whispered hoarsely. "I am not so beloved in the community that I would want to prolong my existence. Guilt and regret for the things I have done plagues my every waking moment, and I look on this end as penance for a life spent lining my own pockets. If you can get these people to safety, it may all have been worth—" His voice faded away and his eyes closed as he passed out from the loss of blood.

"He's gone," she remarked quietly, gently closing his eyes with one hand. "I have others who need my attention, if you'll excuse me," Nellise added. Aiden stared down at the corrupt old man, recalling the trouble he'd gotten them into on their first meeting, and turned away from the scene as the cleric went to check on the other wounded in the mausoleum.

"Get everyone ready to move as soon as possible," Aiden advised David. "The door isn't going to hold forever, and we'll need to deal with your friends upstairs before long. When we're ready to move, we're going to get you all the way to Coldstream before daybreak. Any ideas, Robert?"

"I'm going to have a word with Sy," the mercenary replied. "She doesn't have to kill anyone, but I reckon she can toss them about like dolls if she wanted to. A nice display of power should scare the bastards off." Robert headed in her direction, while Aiden noticed Pacian standing in front of a prominent stone coffin near the centre of the room. Next to him stood a girl of roughly fifteen years of age, with long, dark hair and pale skin, dressed in an expensive blue dress. She was staring at the coffin with bright blue eyes, and Aiden was curious what Pacian was telling her.

"The tomb contains some of the wealthier families in the area," he was explaining to the girl as Aiden approached. "But this coffin belongs to Sir Cadell Rhys, a man who fell into disrepute with the Crown when he refused to uphold their unjust laws. He lost his money, power and renown, but his faith gave him the strength to defend Bracksfordshire against bandits and tax collectors. Until the king's spies murdered him in his sleep."

"I've heard of him," the girl said in an educated accent. "My father had nothing good to say of his sacrifice. He said Sir Cadell broke his oath of loyalty and deserved everything that happened to him."

"You can't always trust what fathers have to say," Pacian advised sourly. "He's just a man, entitled to his own opinions perhaps, but you have to learn to figure things out for yourself. My father was a drunk who beat me every other day, so I don't put much stock in what he had to tell me. And now he's dead."

"I'm sorry," the girl offered.

"Don't be — I'm not," Pacian answered with a voice devoid of feeling.

"Mother says God rewarded Sir Cadell for the sacrifices he made during his life, but it seems like a bad deal to me," she continued after an awkward moment. "In the end, he's just a pile of bones in a box."

"He died for his convictions," Pacian said in a low voice, possibly gleaning more out of the discussion than Aiden first thought. "Perhaps God didn't have anything to do with it, but if it wasn't for people like this man, the world would be a far worse place to live."

"Why?"

"Because of people like me," Pacian said with finality. The girl looked up at him with a mixture of curiosity and fear, when a woman called to her from across the chamber.

"Angelica, we are getting ready to leave. Come here at once!" The girl immediately tensed and meekly walked over to the prim, uptight looking woman of middle years. Pacian ignored the departure of his audience and continued to look down at the coffin.

"Scaring the children?" Aiden asked sarcastically as he moved past his troubled friend.

"Just telling her how it is," Pacian answered quietly. From across the chamber, Aiden spotted Tom Ballard who was slowly getting back on his feet after receiving Nellise's tender ministrations. The old innkeeper had lost weight, and gained a number of grey hairs on his temple in the intervening years, as well as a few bruises and cuts. Criosa helped him to his feet, and gave Aiden a reassuring glance.

"Nel says she's been able to treat their wounds well enough to get them moving," she informed him. "Everyone is ready to make the trip to Coldstream."

"Anything to get out of this place," Tom rumbled. "No offence to the dead, but I have no intention of being buried here with my sons just yet."

Upon hearing him speak of his dead sons, Aiden felt his stomach clench. The three boys had been under his command for a while, until he loaned them to Lord Carbrey for an assault on a Tulsonite position in the west. Aiden knew that sooner or later he would have to explain how Tom's sons died, but now that he stood before the innkeeper, Aiden found he had no stomach for it.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," Aiden muttered, feeling the weight of responsibility.

"Wasn't your fault mate," Tom advised, although Aiden felt otherwise. Criosa exchanged a knowing look with him but said nothing.

"Well, let's get you out of here," Aiden said hoarsely. "I'm going to see if we can clear that entrance before we start moving people upstairs. Things might get a little dicey."

"I'll handle things down here," Criosa answered. Aiden touched her arm lightly in thanks and turned back to speak with Pacian, but the ascetic was no longer standing before the casket. Curiously, he noticed the lid was open a crack, but couldn't recall if it had been like that earlier. Aiden summoned a glowing orb of light and peered inside, mindful of the possibility the occupant might be trying to get out — something Aiden had no desire to experience ever again.

The corpse of the long-dead knight lay unmoving with his empty hands clasped together upon his chest. Everything appeared to be as it should, and Aiden had bigger things to worry about at the moment, so he slid the cover back into place. Someone nudged into his leg, giving him a start. When he whirled around, he saw Aislin had backed into him.

The unwashed little girl looked with large brown eyes at her father as the big man was being helped to stand by Criosa and David Patel. For the first time, Aiden realised how powerless she must be feeling after the death of her older brothers, and the wounding of her father. Overwhelmed by a sense that their loss was his fault, he felt the need to give them some sort of compensation, both to help them in this difficult time, and to assuage his own guilt.

"This is probably a bad idea," he muttered to himself as he knelt down and caught Aislin's attention. He unbuckled the sheath containing Pacian's old vythiric dagger on his belt, and thought it might be well suited to her. It had been thoroughly cleaned since Aiden had taken it from Criosa, but the weapon carried such a storied history, nobody in their group had wanted to claim it.

"If you're going to protect everyone, you're going to need something sharper than that butter knife," he said, holding the sheathed blade out for her. With wide eyes, Aislin took it in both hands and drew the shining dagger before her. The weapon caught the dim torch light and sent reflections dancing along the walls.

"Thank you, it's beautiful," Aislin stammered. "What's its name?"

"Pardon?"

"All great weapons have names," she explained. "What's it called?" Aiden stared at her blankly for a moment. To his knowledge, Pacian had never named his blades, and even if he had, it would have been something horrid like 'Soul Eater' or 'I Hated My Father'. Aiden didn't want the haunted legacy of the blade to tarnish its new owner, so he wracked his brain to come up with something a little more inspiring.

"Sliver," he blurted, hoping it was appropriate. Aislin repeated the name with a satisfied grin and carefully whisked it back and forth. "Just be careful with it," Aiden warned. "It's incredibly sharp."

"Don't worry, I cut a lot of vegetables," she confided in him, as if years of kitchen work qualified her to safely wield a nearly priceless dwarven-forged vythiric blade. Aiden gave her an awkward pat on the head and stood up again. Pacian had appeared next to him during the display and gave Aiden a start.

"Did you just give a deadly weapon to a ten-year-old girl?" the ascetic asked pointedly.

"Maybe," Aiden replied with a shrug. "I felt like I owed her something after what's happened to her family over the years."

"Yeah but a weapon? Not even I would have done that."

"That's debatable."

"I was thinking of giving it back to Tosh's family soon," Pacian mused. "Now I'd have to steal it back from a little girl. What kind of monster do you think I am?"

"Do you want it back?" Aiden asked. The ascetic watched Aislin showing off the weapon to half a dozen other children. It might not last long, but for the moment at least they weren't thinking about the horrors they had witnessed, nor the plight they were currently in. And for all Aiden knew it might even save her life.

"No... It's probably for the best. Assuming, of course, she doesn't slice her own fingers off."

"Come on, we've got a small army of deserters to deal with," Aiden growled as he headed for the stairs, hoping Sayana was willing to help out. If she wasn't, things were about to get very bloody.

Chapter Seventeen

The door to the mausoleum shuddered under repeated blows from sledgehammer-wielding soldiers outside, sending a resonate booming sound echoing along the walls. The thick iron bar wedged across the door was holding well enough, but small chips of stone were flying from the walls surrounding the doors with increasing regularity.

Aiden, Robert and Pacian moved purposefully up the stairs, reaching the door before they noticed Criosa and Sayana had followed them up.

"I thought you were going to stay down there with Nellise?" Aiden asked over the repeated thumping upon the door.

"Everyone is ready to move, but we can't very well leave here until the way is clear, can we?" Criosa pointed out. "I also wanted to remind you all that these are our countrymen, and it would be my preference to not slaughter them if at all possible."

"And I want to remind you, Highness," Robert grunted, "that these are the same men who tried to rob poorly armed civilians and threatened to steal their womenfolk, to say nothing of killing several men on the way here. People get hanged for banditry, am I right?"

"If we open this door and you repeat what you just said, we're going to have a fight on our hands," Aiden remarked. "Are you prepared to fight two dozen soldiers?" Robert drew his elf-crafted sword and indestructible Auldsteel shield before he answered.

"Two dozen poorly equipped and hungry men? Yeah, I'm okay with that," he said firmly.

"I'm not," Sayana added quietly. The mercenary looked back at her and his belligerent visage softened. He gave her a reassuring nod and raised his shield as he gestured for Aiden to open the door. He gingerly stepped forward and heaved the bar out of the way with a deep grinding sound. The hammering stopped instantly, and when Aiden pulled the door open a crack, he saw a crowd of men surrounding the entrance, armed with long pikes pointing straight at him.

"We wish to parley with your commander!" Aiden shouted through the gap. There was no immediate response, but a few moments later some of the soldiers parted and a man clad in heavy plate armour came forward, flanked by four men with longbows held at the ready. He raised his visor to reveal a surprisingly youthful face, with a thin brown moustache complimenting what Aiden would describe as a dashing visage.

"Well, it's about time you came to your senses," the officer remarked in a cultured, urbane voice. He thrust the tip of his longsword into the ground and leaned upon it as a gentleman would a cane. "I thought you might have wished to be buried in there. It would certainly save my men the trouble of digging your graves. To whom am I speaking?"

"Aiden Wainwright, formerly Baron of Highmarch," Aiden replied, opening the door a little further to allow the waning light to illuminate his face. "Who are you?"

"I am Captain Sir Oliver Marshall, former commander of the Fifth Bracksfordshire Battalion. We have both seen better days, have we not Aiden? Both men of action, fallen from grace to land hip deep in a pile of shit, if you'll forgive my language."

"Which if us fell further, I wonder?" Aiden asked, taking his measure of the man.

"Why you, of course," Sir Oliver answered plainly. "I may have pretensions of becoming the King of Bandits but at least I'm not a traitor. Yes, your participation at the Battle of Le Bastion is common knowledge now. The real question is why you were so eager to barricade yourself in that tomb with a group of peasants. Perhaps you truly have gone mad? Or perhaps there is something in there worth fighting over."

"Of course there is," Aiden replied caustically, "the common folk of the region you swore to protect. Now look what you've done — you've gone and broken your oath, so I have to step in and do your job for you. Rarely have I encountered such wanton incompetence."

"You seem to be forgetting that you are the one who is under siege here, sir!" the captain bristled. "Our commanders betrayed us, sending my men to certain death against superior forces time and time again. I simply made the decision that our leader and his lackeys had taken leave of their senses, and it was time for a change. An oath to feckless fools is no oath at all, I say. Come the end of the day, we will see who is the least competent among us."

"The man has an inflated sense of his own worth," Robert remarked under his breath.

"I've heard the name before," Aiden replied in equally hushed tones. "Son of a minor noble, great at parties I hear, but his reputation is tarnished with a distinct lack of morality. I'm hoping to use that against him."

"When you are quite finished with your little discussion, there is the pressing matter of your untimely demise to discuss," Sir Oliver said with forced politeness. "I take it you speak for the living occupants of the mausoleum?"

"I suppose I do."

"Good. Inform the others under your charge that I am laying claim to all of Bracksfordshire, and as residents of my fledgling kingdom, they owe me their fealty, and half of their belongings, be it coin or possessions — I'm not fussy. If they — and you, for that matter — do not swear allegiance to me, I shall be forced to take what is rightfully mine through less subtle methods. I have no wish for bloodshed, but I cannot build a new kingdom if I am unable or unwilling to enforce the law."

"Wait, I'm writing all of this down — could you repeat everything after 'Inform the others'?" Aiden mocked.

"You're testing my patience," Sir Oliver purred ominously.

"And you're mocking my intelligence," Aiden shot back. "Do you seriously expect me to believe you can carve out a chunk of Aielund for yourself, with only two dozen men?" The soldiers outside laughed at this comment, until the captain motioned for silence.

"My dear Mister Wainwright, I have the remnants of three whole companies under my banner. I believe it is on the order of two hundred and thirty-eight men. Even now they are consolidating on this position to ensure there is no escape for any of you. So you see, your defeat is inevitable. I am only speaking to you now as a courtesy." True to his word, Aiden spied at least twenty more men gathering behind the captain with their weapons at the ready.

"Bloody hell," Robert spat, "they're not just deserters — he's trying to set himself up as king of Bracksfordshire. As if this war needs another crazy bastard with a crown." Aiden exchanged a look with Criosa, whose expression had turned cold at hearing this development.

"What could possibly justify such action against a group of poorly armed civilians?" Aiden shouted to the would-be king.

"I understand your confusion so allow me to clarify the facts of the matter," Sir Oliver replied, his confidence bolstered. "The Mayor of Bracksford was evidently skimming wages of the local garrison for the past year, and they promised to join my cause if I sought to remedy this injustice on their behalf."

"Olaf," Aiden muttered under his breath. "Even so," he said, raising his voice once more, "your men threatened to take the women as well, which is how this whole situation developed."

"Is this true?" the captain asked one of his nearby lieutenants. They conferred quietly for a long moment before he spoke to Aiden again. "It would seem some of my men have acted improperly and conspired to keep this information from me," he said as several men were dragged forward from the ranks. "Though I'm certain it is paltry compensation for the loss of life, I offer my deep condolences to the bereaved. This is no way to start a grand endeavour such as mine, but I can assure you, justice will be served."

Three men were forced to their knees before the captain, shouting their innocence to anyone within earshot. Sir Oliver impassively watched them plead their case for a moment, and then pulled his sword from the earth and beheaded each man with one swift stroke. Aiden watched, aghast at this display of 'justice' as the bodies slumped to the ground.

"We don't have to kill them all," Robert spoke with quiet intensity. "Just him."

"Do you have a plan to get to him without fighting through the rest of them first?" Aiden asked firmly. Robert hesitated in thought, then shook his head.

"I can do it," Criosa offered. Aiden looked at her curiously for a moment, then realised what she was talking about.

"You're going to flit in there with an incantation and drive your sword into his face," Aiden stated carefully. "You won't be able to kill him any other way, he's covered in armour." She nodded meekly, but with a gleam of resolve in her blue eyes.

"I don't want anyone else to die, but that one... that one is trying to steal my kingdom. If I'm going to become queen, then I have to be able to defend my throne or the title is meaningless. I can appear right before him, perform the deed, and be back here in seconds."

"They could pile on you before you can get away," Robert warned. "You might have trouble ruling the kingdom if you're dead."

"Perhaps, but perhaps not," Criosa mused. "Look at them — tired, hungry, and above all, afraid of their captain. Maybe they just need an opportunity to break free of him. I'm going to provide that opportunity."

"My apologies for that barbaric display," Sir Oliver called to them once more as he wiped the blood from his blade. "One cannot exert authority without being prepared to back up words with actions."

"I wholeheartedly agree," Criosa called back, stepping just outside the mausoleum door.

"Princess Criosa," Sir Oliver remarked with mild surprise. "I had a vague suspicion you had accompanied Wainwright when you departed Fairloch months ago, so of all the people who could walk out of that tomb, you aren't all that unlikely, as it happens."

The effect her emergence had upon the surrounding men was impressive. Nearly everyone in the country knew of Criosa's general appearance, and the way she stood before them, poised and graceful, left no doubt in the minds of all present it was indeed the daughter of their king — or former king, as it were.

"I seek to restore order throughout Aielund, and end the war with Tulsone," she said, addressing the crowd. "As rightful heir to the throne, you are all my subjects, and it is my responsibility to see to your welfare. You have been dragged from your homes and pressed into service, in the name of a man who is no longer fit to be king. Support my claim, and you will be released from service and allowed to return home. No charges of desertion will be pressed — you can start over with a clean slate."

"If anyone steps forward to support this woman, you will be killed," Sir Oliver countered, eyeing her warily. "I am to be your new king — the old order is fading, and the time to build a new world stands before us. You will be part of this new world, or buried under it."

"You're not a leader, you're a tyrant," Criosa remarked firmly. "People like you have to be shown your methods will not be tolerated in civilised society." Sir Oliver chuckled to himself, smiling at his nearby officers.

"You do not disappoint, Highness," the captain offered. "I don't know if you remember but we've met once before, a few years ago. You were still just a girl of course, but I was impressed with your beauty even then. In a way, I am glad you are here. My claim to rule will be strengthened if I marry you, and together we can usher in the peace you spoke of, as King and Queen."

"I'm afraid that isn't going to happen," Criosa lamented, drawing her rapier as she whispered some arcane words. In a violet flash, she vanished and appeared directly in front of the captain and plunged her rapier straight through his right eye and into his brain.

A fountain of blood poured forth and Sir Oliver's body fell to the ground with a clatter of armour. Criosa withdrew her sword, but didn't vanish as she had suggested. Instead, she stood over the body of the would-be king and cast her gaze at the men around her.

"You can be criminals, or you can be men," she stated. "The choice is yours." A long silence ensued as the soldiers — mostly tired old men and boys — seemed to consider her words. They could easily overpower them with sheer weight of numbers, appoint a new tyrant to lead them, and there wouldn't be a thing Aiden could do about it. Fortunately, that's not the way it happened.

First one, then another soldier fell to one knee and lowered their weapons, until a wave of assent went through the crowd. They all took the knee and paid tribute to their future queen, who stood before them as regal and powerful as Aiden had ever seen her.

'Now that's how you wield authority', Robert grunted in admiration, summing up Aiden's feelings precisely.

* * *

As the sun set over the woods, dozens of campfires sprung to life in the clearing. Aiden and the rest of the Bracksford refugees had tentatively emerged from the tomb, but found no enemies among the former bandits. Each of them swore allegiance to Criosa, who pardoned them for their previous transgressions.

The men who had been involved with the earlier attacks upon the townsfolk had already been dealt with in a rather permanent fashion by the late Captain Sir Oliver. Those remaining had been reluctant participants at best, but that didn't provide a lot of comfort for the townsfolk as they walked through the camp.

Aiden stayed close to Criosa, but not so close as to raise eyebrows. She maintained her regal bearing as she moved among the people, cementing the image of a confident and compassionate leader in their minds. Statecraft was one of her real talents, and her obvious concern for the beleaguered people of her kingdom did wonders for her reputation amongst the crowd. The princess practically glowed with satisfaction, and Aiden struggled not to stare at her with renewed admiration.

They spent the night under the stars, and the people of Bracksford shared their bounty of food with the starving soldiers. For many of them it seemed the nightmare had finally come to an end, and they talked of returning to their homes and picking up their lives where they left off. It was the best end Aiden could imagine to what had been a terrible situation for all involved.

That night he dreamt of a peaceful life in the forest which abruptly turned into a nightmare when the trees were suddenly burned to the ground in a sizzling beam of light. He knew what was out there, hidden amongst the trees and refused to look, even when the familiar thudding footsteps of the Ironlord hammered at his senses. When he could no longer avoid looking, he screamed and awoke, lathered in sweat.

The sky was beginning to lighten and there was movement in the camp as the early risers began preparations for breakfast. Evidently, Aiden's scream hadn't been real, for Criosa lay sleeping peacefully on the bedroll next to his. Hovering over them was Sayana, who stared down at him with her eyes glowing like a cat's.

She had been keeping watch, and clearly sensed something askew, but he shrugged off any concern. He didn't know which dream was worse — dragons or his old nemesis. Aiden hardly paid her any heed, but noticed she seemed to be fidgeting, something he'd never seen her do before. He dismissed this as her being nervous amongst so many people.

They ate a light breakfast, using the last of their supplies to feed everyone, then after a brief discussion set out towards Coldstream. Two dozen of the gathered soldiers had been stationed there prior to being conscripted into Sir Oliver's army, and it seemed to be the best place to leave them. Robert and Criosa exchanged a few heated words when speaking of this issue, though the mercenary was careful never to step over the line.

"We are going to need every able-bodied man we can get our hands on if we're going to take Fairloch," he reminded her. "Don't discharge them until the job is done."

"Their job is already done," Criosa responded emphatically. "They have sworn service to me and I would ask no more of them for this war. We are ending it with a minimum of bloodshed, and I will not force these men to fight against their own people."

"You certainly have an inflated sense of our capabilities," Robert growled. "Need I remind you we have no idea if we're going to be able to stop your father?"

"We will find a way," Criosa stubbornly insisted. "These men are staying here to rest, recover and provide security for the region."

"Yes, Your Highness," Robert spat before storming off to the front of the column.

"Let him cool off," Criosa advised Sayana as she went to pursue him.

"He does have a point," Aiden dared to suggest. "Our strategy depends entirely on finding the staff, and if that doesn't turn up..."

"We will find a way," the princess reiterated as if trying to believe her own words. Aiden let the issue drop for now, and instead went to help some of Bracksford's people get moving.

The weather cleared up after yesterday's storm and they made good progress in spite of their collective injuries. Aiden found himself helping Tom Ballard to walk. The old innkeeper was twice Aiden's weight, and keeping him moving proved to be quite a challenge.

"So, you've gone and armed my little girl," Tom remarked to Aiden soon after they set out. Just up ahead, Aislin was keeping a vigilant eye on the surrounding lands with one hand firmly on the hilt of the new dagger strapped to her belt. "I'm not sure whether to thank you or flatten your nose."

"Go ahead, I'm pretty sure I can take you," Aiden drawled. The big man chuckled at Aiden's remark.

"She's more confident now, I'll give you that," Tom continued with a strained voice. "Nothing breaks my heart more than seeing her scared, when there's not a damn thing I can do about it. I just don't want you giving her any ideas."

"Ideas about?" Aiden prompted.

"Being a hero and getting herself killed," Tom explained bluntly. "I couldn't bear losing her — she's all I got left now." Aiden fell silent at this, having trouble finding the words upon hearing that so many of Tom's children had been lost in the war.

"I just felt she should have something, after losing so many brothers," he finally said. "If you're not okay with it, I'll take it back off her."

"Too late my friend, you couldn't pry it from her grasp if you wanted to," Tom chuckled. "That ship has sailed. But don't you go feeling guilty at the loss of my boys," he added, giving Aiden a sharp look. "I can see it in your eyes, mate. You're not responsible, because I got a letter from your replacement, Sir Leonard, explaining that they were under some other lord's command when they died. It's not your fault."

"Thank you," Aiden breathed, more relieved than he thought he'd be at hearing those words. Sayana, who had returned from dealing with Robert, came in closer to speak with Criosa, who was walking close by.

"We are less than an hour from the town, and we still have many hours of daylight remaining," Sayana said to her. "Acadia lies only a short distance inside the forest, and we shouldn't delay any further."

"I'm eager to have this entire business concluded as quickly as possible," Criosa responded with carefully worded language, "but I have concerns about the handover of these soldiers to the local command. There may be some conflict in the ranks."

"You can hand over responsibility to one of the local commanders," Sayana insisted. "The future Queen of Aielund doesn't need to preside over trivial matters, when the fate of her entire realm is at stake." Criosa gave her a cold stare, but the sorceress didn't back down.

"I'd leave you to talk this out in private," Tom interjected, "but I'm at the mercy of my trusty steed."

"Sorry you have to hear this Tom," Aiden muttered as he shifted around a little to ease the weight off his shoulder. "Sy, I understand you're impatient to reach Acadia, but a few hours won't make any difference."

"An entire night could make all the difference," she said, running her hands through her hair. "Aiden, you promised me we would reach Acadia and have them 'cure' my affliction. I grow tired of doubting my every action. I want to be free of it. The markings... it's almost like they're crawling along my skin. You have no idea what it's like. I have gone to great lengths to aid you all, not just recently but in times past. I ask, no, I beg of you — let us hasten to Acadia. You owe me this much."

"Why didn't you say something before we diverted off the road yesterday?" Criosa asked.

"I am not without compassion for those in need," Sayana whispered. "I too have a soft spot for Bracksford. But the crisis is over, and we must press on to aid the rest of the country. I will go on alone if I must, but I suspect you wish to meet with the elves as well. They can help not just me, but everyone else, too."

"I do wish a meeting with them at the very least," Criosa admitted. "Very well, if you feel this strongly about it, I will leave David Patel to explain things to the Mayor of Coldstream, and we will press on to Acadia instead."

"Thank you," Sayana replied quietly allowing her wild mane to fall in front of her eyes as she hurriedly moved ahead in the column.

"That was awkward," Aiden remarked. "She's growing more unsettled over time."

"She's probably been containing her fears, but being this close to a possible resolution is increasing the pressure," Criosa agreed. "I've never seen her speak to me like that before. Perhaps it really is a good idea to reach Acadia before she loses control."

"Are the lives of royalty always so interesting?" Tom asked, reminding her of his presence. Criosa had the good grace to blush and smile ruefully at his remark.

"I'll thank you to keep this to yourself, Mister Ballard," she instructed.

"I am Your Highness's most loyal servant," Tom assured her. "I'd bow but..."

"Yes yes, I'm doing the best I can," Aiden grumbled, much to the delight of onlookers.

"I'm going to have a word with Mister Patel about my decision," Criosa told them, giving Aiden an encouraging peck on the cheek just before she disappeared into the crowd of soldiers and refugees marching through the woods.

* * *

Sayana's estimate proved correct, for within the hour they arrived on the outskirts of Coldstream. It felt longer, however, with Aiden struggling to help Tom through the last of the uneven terrain. The town was located in the foothills of the Highmarch Mountains, and the rising incline made their journey that much harder.

Although Criosa had appointed David Patel to represent them, she nevertheless joined the retired ranger at the gates of Coldstream to explain their presence to the nervous soldiers within. Nellise spent the time healing as many people as she could, trying to carry the burden of their recovery on her own. Pacian showed little interest in using his own divine healing, and continued to remain aloof from the others, standing to one side leaning on his staff. Aiden noticed it wasn't the same weapon he had used against Colt in their duel, and sidled over for a closer look.

"That's not a staff," Aiden surmised after a close glance. The weapon was roughly the same length as a quarterstaff, but was oval-shaped along the length and the outside was engraved with curious, sweeping lines. He even recognised a few sigils etched into one end, and quickly deduced where Pacian had acquired his new toy.

"It can be a staff," Pacian replied with a shrug. "But it can also be something else, if I want."

"You lifted it from the knight's tomb, didn't you," Aiden growled in a low voice, making sure nobody else was in earshot. "I noticed the lid had been moved before we left. Grave robbing isn't your style, Pace. What would Nellise say?"

"She'd be just as upset with me as she already is. Besides, I didn't steal it — I'm borrowing it. We're a lot alike, old Sir Cadell and I. He believed in peace, but was forced to fight to defend his beliefs. This weapon is the embodiment of his philosophy."

"Since when do you know anything about history?" Aiden hissed.

"Since I spent two years at a monastery," Pacian reminded him. "It wasn't all beatings and discipline you know. I learned a lot about history — the winners and losers, and importantly, why they won or lost."

"Is that relevant?"

"Maybe," Pacian hedged. "In any case, Sir Cadell was a little too trusting of his colleagues in the end, but that's not a problem I'm going to have."

"What is it exactly?" Aiden inquired, looking at the staff with his altered vision. It glowed impressively, but he was more concerned about the man controlling it than the weapon itself.

"I hope we never have to find out," Pacian warned. "Suffice it to say, it was a traitor's knife which brought him down — Sir Cadell was never defeated on the battlefield."

From across the field, David signalled the all-clear to the rest of them, and the group of ex-soldiers and refugees headed towards the town. Aiden gave Pacian a firm look, but the ascetic was unmoved by his warning glance. He walked away as the rest of the people filed through the gates, to be welcomed by their new hosts. Aiden was mulling over his brief conversation with his old friend when he felt a tug on his robe. Looking down, he saw Aislin beaming up at him with sparkling eyes.

As he knelt down to be at eye level with her, she whispered "Thank you," and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, much as Criosa had done a little earlier. She then scampered off into the crowd to find her father.

"I'll be sure to inform Criosa she has some competition," Nellise remarked with a smile as she passed him by, giving him a nudge in the ribs for good measure as he stood up.

"She just misses her family," Aiden remarked. He ignored her smile and bid the last of the refugee's farewell at the gate, while Sayana stood nervously to one side as a reminder of their next task. He looked at Coldstream's main street, clear of snow at this time of year but nonetheless home. Part of him wanted to stay a while and try to patch things up with his parents, but he knew he didn't have the time.

On a whim, he decided to write a quick note for David to hand over to Aiden's parents, just to reassure them he was alive and well.

He didn't need to go into any further detail, for his fate over the next week was still unknown, and he didn't want to worry them needlessly. Aiden kept the note brief, then rushed over and handed it to David just before he passed through the gate. The old ranger gave him a curt nod then disappeared into the crowd, leaving Aiden there looking wistfully at his home town, just beyond.

"We could really use some rest, you know," he pointed out to Sayana after he and the rest of his companions began slowly making their way towards the distant tree line of the Cairnwood. "The journey here wasn't that long, but some of us had extra baggage."

"You'll live," Sayana reassured him. "I am not unsympathetic, but just for once, I desire a full night's sleep free of nightmares."

"I know what you mean," Aiden sighed in resignation. Robert gave him a solid slap on his shoulder as the mercenary strolled past, as if to say "buck up, mate, you'll be fine, but I'm also laughing at your weakness." Aiden gave a look of longing over his shoulder at the receding shape of Coldstream, wishing he could have spent the night in the comfortable confines of the inn.

Before long they passed the outer edge of the forest, and found shelter from the warm sun within the tall boughs of the Cairnwood. All too familiar with their past visits, Sayana took the lead and carefully threaded a path through the trees and around any uneven ground. The forest was renowned for pockets of empty earth and deep caves lying just under the surface, a legacy of the ruined elven city which lay hidden in its depths.

Out of habit and curiosity, he lifted his left sleeve when nobody was looking and was silently relieved to see the scales had receded into his skin somewhat. It was true — so long as he avoided tapping into his sorcerous power, he would remain human, or at least as human as he could be.

Uplifted by this discovery, he almost ran into Criosa's back before realising they had come to a halt. The light was fading from the day and Aiden had apparently lost track of time in his idle musings, but none of that explained their nervous expressions. He was about to ask when he heard the distinct and repeated sounds of large, leathery wings flapping in the wind nearby.

"Dragon," he whispered, instantly alert. Sayana nodded and scanned the skies above through the canopy of the trees, watchful for sign of their uninvited guest. Aiden had learned years ago there weren't many of the great winged creatures remaining, but only one or two of them could be considered friendly.

His answer came a moment later, as the branches of the tree above them cracked and parted as the dragon lunged to earth. It flared its wings at the last moment and kicked up a storm of dirt as it landed on the ground not ten yards away. As far as dragons went, it wasn't very large, and judging by Sayana's glowing tattoos she wasn't exactly unprepared for a fight against such a creature either.

The dragon folded its wings neatly and glared at them with glowing yellow eyes. Its serpentine body caught the dying embers of sunlight and glowed in reflection. Silvery scales tinged with gold forced its hide, and Aiden suddenly recognised the young dragon before them as the one who assisted them against the Ironlord years ago.

"Spartan," he called, pleased to see their old ally once more. The dragon had grown almost two yards in length during the intervening time since their last meeting, and towered over the small group.

Aiden Wainwright? the dragon spoke in their minds with his smooth telepathic "voice". Curious... I thought you were someone else.

"Who?" Aiden asked, suddenly alarmed and unconsciously grasping his left arm.

It does not matter, Spartan replied dismissively. I am pleased to see you all again, even Sayana, who somehow survived the Battle of Highmarch.

"Don't be afraid, she won't hurt anyone," Nellise assured him.

I was not afraid, Spartan replied evenly. Her mere presence in your group suggests she has earned your trust, and is no threat. I do not know why you have come here, but I must inform you that you are trespassing on Acadian land.

"That's never stopped us before," Sayana replied, somewhat belligerently. She maintained the power she was drawing on, evidently not trusting the creature before them. It wasn't a surprise, considering the last time they met they had fought a duel over the skies of Fort Highmarch. "And frankly, I don't think you could stop us if we wanted to go there now."

Clearly you do, Spartan remarked. You seem very determined to see Acadia again, but you will not find what you seek, sorceress. The city is deserted, and the last act of its former inhabitants was to entrust me with the safekeeping of what remains.

"What?" Sayana whispered in disbelief.

The Acadian elves disappeared through an arcane portal shortly after the Battle of Highmarch, and have not been seen since, the dragon explained succinctly. Sayana stopped glowing and stared at Spartan for a long moment. She staggered to one side, leaning against a tree for support as Robert went to her. Sayana shoved him away, evidently having trouble breathing. She fell to her knees and sobbed, before lifting her head and letting out an agonised scream at the top of her lungs for all the forest to hear.

Chapter Eighteen

Aiden was worried. He had problems piling up in the back of his mind, and certainly, he was becoming disturbingly adept at keeping them buried. But now he had to add yet another issue to the list. Their sorceress was broken.

Sayana sat with her back against a tree, staring ahead blankly and refusing to respond to any stimuli around her. Given her outburst of emotion, the sudden silence was unsettling to say the least. Robert and Nellise crouched before her, gently trying to snap her out of the trance.

"I'm not sure what to make of it," Nellise confided to Aiden after a number of unsuccessful tries. "The mind can be a delicate thing, and she has endured much hardship in her life. Clearly, she had placed all of her hopes for a better life on removing those inscriptions, but with the Acadian elves gone, that may no longer be possible."

"This seems so sudden," Criosa lamented. "I thought she was doing better of late."

"She fooled me too," Aiden added. "When she took on that linnorm, I thought she might have finally overcome her reservations, and then this happens." He turned to Spartan, who watched the proceedings impassively, appearing aloof to their troubles.

You wish to ask more of the Acadians, he intoned within their minds. I would ask why you are here. The Acadians were not overly fond of you, particularly after their loses at Highmarch.

"We came here for Sayana's sake," Criosa replied with a concerned glance at their distressed friend. "But we are on our way to Fairloch to put an end to my father's tyrannical intentions. You have noticed the return of the Ironlord, have you not?"

I sense its movement whenever it is active, Spartan confirmed. It is like a tremor through the earth, distorting the world around it. King Seamus has rarely used it in battle, but he has no qualms about sending his men to assail the borders of Acadia.

"They've come here?" Criosa reiterated, startled at this news.

They seek the treasures within, but they are no match for me, Spartan purred. I actively patrol the borders of the land and repel any incursions. Some of their wizards even attempt to move past under a veil of invisibility — but I see them all the same.

"I was about to ask if you would be willing to join our assault on Fairloch," Aiden said, "but it seems you have enough to keep you busy here."

Slaying the king could be a more effective strategy than laying waste to countless insurgents, Spartan pondered. I may be able to divert my attention for a brief period, but there is more at stake than some unoccupied buildings. Many relics too large to be moved remain within the city.

"I feel awkward pressing this issue, but is there any other way you can help us?" Aiden asked. "Do you know to where the elves went?"

I know only that they wished to finally be free of the place they kept watch over for many centuries. Their task was complete, and it was the only thing holding them here. Their path is their own to choose.

"And you've no way to contact them?" Aiden pressed.

None. They left Acadia in my keeping and moved on with their lives, Spartan explained.

"This is disappointing to say the least," Aiden muttered. "I don't suppose you know how to remove her tattoos?"

I doubt even they have the knowledge, considering their abhorrence of such eldritch lore, Spartan mused. You may recall their inability to close the portal without the benefit of your knowledge.

"All too well," Criosa replied quietly, exchanging a glance with Nellise as they recalled their brief time on the other side of that portal. "Even aside from Sayana's need, we could have used their help in taking Fairloch. As you say, their losses at Highmarch would have made an impact on any decision to help us again. I hope they find peace."

"The world seems a little smaller now," Nellise remarked thoughtfully. Aiden glanced back at Sayana and noticed she had turned her head to look at him. It was an encouraging sign, even though she still seemed groggy and incoherent.

"Did you know?" she whispered to Aiden, the first words she had spoken in some time.

"No, but it wasn't unreasonable to assume they left," he answered with an uncertain glance at Nellise. "When I closed the portal here, they no longer had a need to remain here and keep watch."

"You promised we would come here and they would fix me," Sayana said, her strength growing with each passing moment. She climbed back on her feet, her green eyes boring into Aiden's with a ferocity he had never before seen. Even Robert took a step back.

"It was the only reason I came with you," she spat. "You dragged me through the world, risked my life and those of our friends, for what?"

"I honestly wanted to help you," Aiden protested. Robert placed a hand on her shoulder and tried to calm her down, but Sayana shrugged him off. She stormed right up to Aiden and stared up at him.

"What do you need really me for?" She snarled. "You know I can't face the Ironlord without the possibility of turning against you all, but you need me — not the person, but the weapon. Who do you want me to kill, Aiden?"

"I don't need you to kill anyone," he replied, "but we do need your help to defeat Terinus." Sayana looked at him incredulously, and then turned away in disgust.

"I knew it," she muttered, while Robert glared at Aiden dangerously.

"Did you lie to her to get Sayana and Terinus to fight it out?" he snarled.

"I may have omitted certain realities, yes," Aiden admitted. "Look at us, Robert. We're heading for Fairloch, on the verge of reliving the Battle of Fort Highmarch but with one significant difference — we have no weapons powerful enough to defeat the Ironlord."

"The only chance we have is to get our hands on that control staff, which means we will have to pry it out of Terinus' hands. The only thing working in our favour is a weapon of the ancients, standing right here in our midst, a little damaged maybe, but a match for the most powerful wizard in the realm—" Aiden never got a chance to finish the sentence, for he was suddenly flying through the air.

He let out a blast of air as he felt himself smash into the side of a tree, and was held there as Sayana, one hand raised as if to hold him by the throat, slowly stalked towards him.

"All those things you said to me, about rediscovering my power and 'being okay with it', was all a ploy to get me to fight your battles for you," she said with calm intensity.

"Maybe it was," he admitted with choked words, "but if we came here and had your power removed, I would have been okay with it I swear. We would find another way."

"But they're not here anymore," Sayana purred, standing before Aiden as she held his life in her hand.

"Easy there Sy," Robert said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We both know you're not going to kill him, so stop pretending. You don't play the villain very well. There are better ways of dealing with this situation." Aiden felt the pressure around his neck ease and he slumped to the ground as Sayana turned away.

He gasped for breath and slowly rose back to his feet, only to feel a heavy impact on his face as Robert's fist connected with his cheek. Aiden fell to the ground, bleeding heavily as Criosa let out a shriek of protest.

"Enough!" she ordered, rushing to his side and helping him back on his feet.

"I swear to God, I didn't know for sure the Acadian's had disappeared, but there's still hope for you Sy," Aiden said, his voice sounding strange through his bloodied mouth. "I don't want you to kill Terinus, only keep him busy while we grab the staff. He's probably got the Lexicon, and with its vast knowledge, he's probably the last real chance you have to remove those tattoos."

"What are you talking about?" Sayana asked, unimpressed.

"Do you remember the look he gave you when we first met, back on the ridge south of Highmarch?" Aiden reminded her. "Your markings were clearly visible at the time, and they gave him pause. Remember what Desmond once said about him? He has similar markings."

"Yes, but according to Desmond and the other wizards, he's never performed sorcery," Sayana pointed out. "They could just be ordinary tattoos."

"Or they could be just like yours, but he's found a way to disable them," Aiden said with finality. "He certainly made an effort to get you out of the fight at Highmarch — those inquisitors showed up very quickly after we'd arrived. He knew what you were capable of." Sayana stared at Aiden thoughtfully, the implications of his words clearly having an impact on the troubled woman.

"Look, we need to get that staff out of his hands, and you need answers only he can provide. We both need to go to the Black Tower and convince him to help us, one way or another." Nellise came over and applied a poultice to the side of Aiden's face, while Sayana stepped away from them and mulled over his proposition.

"How do you know for certain he's got the staff?" Robert asked.

"The king may be turning into a tyrant, but Terinus is the one pulling his strings," Aiden explained. "If my guess is right, he won't let anyone else near it. That hurt, by the way," he added, rubbing his cheek.

"It was supposed to," Robert said without remorse.

The sun had well and truly set by now, and they stood amidst the forest illuminated by the light of Nellise's prayer. The low rumble of a distant storm echoed across the land as Sayana rejoined them.

"We're going to the tower, and I'm going to find out what Terinus knows," she stated, "We're leaving right now."

"It's still a two-day journey," Criosa pointed out warily. "We're tired and in need of rest. Let's sleep on it, and start out early tomorrow when our heads are clearer."

"I'm tired of waiting, and tired of walking," the sorceress muttered. "Salinder was capable of teleporting us miles in an instant. Spartan, are you able to do the same?"

Travelling through the dimensions is something I have not yet attempted, the dragon replied. It requires discipline and focus. Lacking these, it is possible to become lost in space and time.

"Yes, we wouldn't want that to happen... again," Aiden drawled. Sayana furrowed her brow in thought, and then set her eyes on Criosa.

"The incantation you use to flit about," Sayana said. "Do it."

"I... now?" Criosa stammered, caught off guard by her request. Sayana nodded intently, her focus narrowed upon the princess. The princess retrieved a few tiny items from a pouch and whispered the words of the incantation, while making some obscure gestures with her hands. There was no immediate sign she had successfully completed the casting, but Sayana had already begun mimicking the strange gestures.

Her eyes darted back and forth, as if seeing the web of energies around her as her fingers manipulated the stuff of magic. Then, in a flash of violet, she vanished, only to reappear a dozen yards away with a look of triumph on her face.

Fascinating, Spartan remarked.

"Clever, but it's only useful for short trips," Criosa explained to Sayana. "It would be faster and less tiring to walk, than to use that tiny little incantation for such a journey."

"It's simply a matter of adjusting the length of the strands," Sayana explained, almost to herself. "Everyone, gather around."

"It isn't really designed to take anyone with you," Criosa pointed out as they reluctantly joined hands in a circle. "I've tried before and the results are less than stellar." Sayana stood in the middle and began repeating the gestures, but with more drawn-out hand movements than before. Aiden shuddered as the world around them flashed violet for a moment, and to his surprise, noticed they had reappeared several yards away.

You are playing with forces you do not understand, Spartan said as he spread his wings. I wish you luck in your mission, and should you avoid becoming lost in the Aether, I will try to rejoin you at Fairloch for the final battle.

Aiden was about to reply when the world lurched once more, but with greater intensity than the first jump. Glancing around, he could see they were still within the forest, but the small clearing had vanished and they appeared to be on an incline.

"Do you really think you can keep jumping us like this, all the way to the Black Tower?" Criosa exclaimed. "We could be at this for hours!" Sayana answered by jumping them once more through the Aether. This time it was like a physical impact upon Aiden's mind, and he staggered forward when they reappeared. Criosa would have fallen if they hadn't been holding hands, and no sooner had they regained their footing when Sayana sent them on their way once more.

The intense flash of violet almost blinded him for a long moment, and he blinked his eyes to try and refocus his vision. A stiff wind blew across the land, and Aiden was startled to see they were on top of a large hill, far to the north of where they had begun. The land was mostly dark, but a flash of lightning further north provided a brief burst of light by which to see by.

Again and again the world around them flashed, each jump taking them further than the last. They paused briefly as Sayana drew in energy from around her and then continued to force them through the Aether.

"Sayana... stop!" Criosa cried as the world around them warped and distorted. This time, they emerged in the middle of a rainstorm on a small rise, and with a flash of lightning illuminating the skies they could clearly see the silhouette of a squat tower rising up over the horizon.

"Once... more," Sayana whispered, barely coherent. She drew in more power and opened one last portal to the base of the tower. Expecting yet another horrible lurching sensation, Aiden was nevertheless unprepared for the impact upon arriving at their destination. It was not unlike running into a wall of water, complete with the sensation of being covered in something icy cold.

The impact scattered them over the ground, where Aiden lay for a long moment, staring up at the sky as he shook off the effects. The skies rumbled with thunder, and a swirling torrent of rain poured upon them as they slowly regained their footing.

"Some sort of protective barrier," Sayana mumbled as she stood, swaying a little as she glared at the silhouette of the tower not twenty yards away. Pacian walked over to her and shoved his face directly into hers.

"Are you out of your mind?" he exclaimed. Robert loomed into the scene and went to shove the ascetic back, but Pacian easily avoided the clumsy move and stalked away muttering to himself.

"Is everyone alright?" Criosa asked, clutching her head to steady herself.

"Intact, but disoriented," Nellise replied hazily. "How far did we just travel?"

"The Black Tower is on the western edge of the Kingswood," Criosa explained. "It must be something on the order of fifty miles."

"That's the most painful way of travelling I've ever tried," Robert grunted. He appeared as if he were about to say more, but then noticed Sayana walking towards the tower. He quickly moved to catch up and took her by the arm to slow her down.

"He's up there, somewhere," she said with determination. "I could levitate up there and take him by surprise"

"You can't go up there by yourself," Nellise cautioned. "If you get into trouble, we won't be able to help you. You've brought us here unprepared, and if you are truly intent on going in there, we need to stay together."

Sayana didn't answer, but continued gazing at the top of the tower. It was four stories high, and although it was a plain, pragmatic design, there were a number of horn-like extrusions around the roof which, combined with the storm, gave the place a dark feel. It wasn't unlike the man himself — Terinus wore a plain black robe, but his mere presence was often unsettling.

The sorceress stretched out one hand, searching gingerly for any sign of the wall of energy they had run into when trying to appear within the tower itself.

"There it is," she whispered, barely audible above the downpour. Her fingers seemed to caress an unseen surface before her, an invisible wall of some sort which had obstructed their progress. She raised her other arm and the faint moonlight around her dimmed to complete darkness, which lasted only a moment until a blazing green bolt of energy lit up the area.

It struck the barrier at point-blank range and detonated with surprising force. The rippling outline of a great sphere encircling the tower pulsed white for just a heartbeat, before it vanished completely. Aiden blinked his eyes and shook his head to clear the bright after-image of the discharge, and when he could finally see properly again, he saw Sayana had already moved beyond the outer perimeter, heading directly for the tower.

"So much for the element of surprise," Robert muttered as he and the others hustled to catch up with her, alert for any sign of activity from the tower itself. A report that loud must have been heard from within.

"A frontal assault is a bad idea," he called to Sayana, who ignored him completely. They caught up with her at the base of the tower itself, where she stood before a pair of large doors, fashioned from the same stone as the rest of the tower. Sayana had summoned a small flicker of flame which she held forth in an outstretched hand. It steamed and fizzled as it was struck by raindrops, but provided enough light to examine the doors closely.

Unsurprisingly, three large and complicated locks adorned the exterior surface where the two doors met, and Aiden spied a number of runes etched into the stone as well. Pacian moved forward to examine them with an expert eye.

"Old habits die hard," he muttered as he scrutinised the mechanisms.

"I think there's a very good chance those inscriptions would be triggered if you try and meddle with those locks," Aiden advised. "There's probably enough power in them to vaporise everyone standing in front of the door."

"Then I guess I'll be really careful," Pacian drawled. Before he could do anything else, however, Sayana threw him aside with a wave of her hand and sent another bolt of crackling green energy straight at the door. It struck with a tremendous explosion, sending Aiden and the others ducking for cover as they were showered in debris.

"Get a hold of yourself!" Aiden shouted at her. Sayana swayed unsteadily on her feet for a moment, but managed to avoid falling over. The display of weakness brought Aiden's rising anger up short as he realised, she was on the verge of collapse already. It didn't stop her strolling through the new doorway she'd just made, however, and the others cautiously followed her in with weapons drawn.

It was dark within the confines of the tower itself, a darkness Sayana's tiny light did nothing to dispel. Nellise refreshed her prayer of light and Aiden added his little spell to the mix as well. Stepping past the rough chunks of smouldering stone in the foyer, the large, circular chamber they had entered was unlike any architecture Aiden had ever seen.

The walls consisted of blackened stone, inlaid with graceful curves of some kind of lustrous grey metal. Six pillars were arrayed around the tower's core, carved to appear almost like twisted trees made from stone. A strange scent hung in the air, an almost acrid smell which reminded Aiden of some of the more potent plants which flowered in the spring time. It seemed to be emanating from ceramic planters arranged around the edge of the chamber, in which grew an assortment of plants with black flowers.

The entire place felt exotic and alien. There were no sounds other than the rain outside, and the water dripping onto the floor from their own clothes. Aiden dared to hope Terinus might be absent from his tower altogether.

"If Terinus isn't here, we can ransack the place for what we need," Aiden whispered to Criosa. Sayana's head snapped around to regard him coldly.

"If he isn't here, then we keep going until we find him," she insisted. Aiden almost answered when he noticed something moving in the shadows at the edge of his vision, just beyond where Sayana stood in the middle of the chamber.

A resounding thud echoed through the room, drawing everyone's attention instantly. Sayana sent her tongue of flame through the air to illuminate what lay beyond, and Aiden gasped at what stood there. A hulking construct of familiar appearance detached from the wall and began moving towards them.

"An Iron Legionnaire," Aiden cried, unconsciously backing up in alarm. He hadn't seen one of these monstrosities since shortly after the Battle of Fort Highmarch, when the remains of those which had been defeated during the fight were carted away to be melted down in the forges of Stonegaard. It was more proof of Terinus' secret plans to acquire the ancient powers of these constructs for himself.

This particular legionnaire had been repaired, with large sheets of iron plate bolted into place on its torso, in stark contrast to the older, pitted and scarred metal of the rest of its body. Its head was only inches below the ceiling, and the great visored helm which constituted its head swivelled around with the screech of metal on metal as it bore down on the surprised group.

Without a second thought, Aiden summoned his force shield and spectral armour and gripped the hilt of his weapon tightly as he considered how to battle the immense contraption. Sayana, who was closest to the oncoming golem stretched her hands out wide and once more darkened the area as she drew in power from her surroundings.

Another bolt of green energy sizzled through the air and struck the construct directly in the centre of its chest. Aiden was forced to avert his eyes from the sudden flash of brilliant light, and when he looked back, he could see a gaping hole where metal had once been. A ring of superheated iron glowed around the edge of the new cavity, and the legionnaire had come to a complete halt.

With more than half of its torso destroyed, the weight of the metal could no longer be supported by what remained, and it slowly keeled over and crashed into the floor in a pile of smoking and charred iron.

"This is going to be easier than I thought," Robert remarked with a half-smile on his face. "Remember how much effort it took to bring one of them down before?" Aiden nodded thoughtfully, gazing at Sayana, swaying with fatigue. With growing concern, Aiden sheathed his sword and hurried to her side. Before he could reach her, she toppled over and fell unconscious to the floor.

"Sy!" Robert yelled as he rushed over to join Aiden by her side. Kneeling down, Aiden saw a line of blood flowing from her nose and cursed under his breath. "Nel!" he called, although the cleric was already on her way over. She checked Sayana's pulse and shook her head ruefully.

"She's out cold, but still alive," the cleric reported. "It's clearly a case of exhaustion. All of the effort Sy went to just to get us here pushed her too hard." Further talk was interrupted by another thumping footstep from the darkness, and Aiden groaned at the realisation there was another legionnaire moving in on them.

"Bugger this, we're retreating," Robert snarled as he carefully reached down and picked up Sayana's unmoving form.

"There might be a problem with that," Pacian called from across the room. Aiden looked over to see what he was talking about, and with disbelief noted the hole they had entered the tower through had been replaced with a new wall of stone.

"Where are the doors?" Criosa cried in dismay as the second legionnaire stepped into the light. Pacian frantically began feeling around each brick in the hopes of finding some sort of secret latch, while the rest of them backed away from the looming metal juggernaut.

"There's no latch, and I'll be damned if this doesn't feel completely real to the touch," Pacian reported. Criosa reached into a pouch and quickly pulled out some curious little objects, then incanted familiar words in the language of magic. She blinked in surprise a moment later when nothing seemed to have happened.

"I can't jump out of here either," she remarked in a tight voice. "We're trapped!" The booming footsteps of their foe continued their relentless approach, but backed up against the wall, they had nowhere left to turn.

"We might be able to get around it and find the stairs," Pacian pointed out, but Robert shook his head.

"We could run into another one and be trapped between the two," he retorted. "Nel, see what you can do to bring her around. She's the one sure chance we have of destroying this thing. We'll buy you as much time as we can."

"'We'?" Aiden remarked dourly as he watched the golem approach. It was somewhat more beaten-up than the first, but still posed a challenge.

"Everyone who isn't either unconscious or named Nellise, yeah," the mercenary clarified, gently laying Sayana on the hard stone floor, then drawing his sword and shield and moving to stand with Aiden. "I didn't ask to be in this fight either, but you can take it up with Sy when it's over. Assuming we're not dead, of course."

"Of course," Pacian murmured, raising his staff and twisting one end of it. Part of the staff came away, revealing a long, scythe-like blade underneath, etched with flowing runes and sigils. Aiden was astonished at the sudden transformation of the weapon, but had no further time to contemplate it.

The ascetic took his place by Aiden's side, while Criosa readied her crossbow and moved further along the wall to get a clear shot. Facing off against an old enemy with no prospect of escape did wonders for their motivation.

Chapter Nineteen

Aiden dived to his left, narrowly avoiding a metal fist the size of his own head crashing into the flagstones. Despite his quick reactions, Aiden still felt the back of its fist clip him on the shoulder as he ran past, sending him spinning into the tower wall.

Two crossbow bolts struck the legionnaire in quick succession, but had no visible effect. Criosa let out an expletive of frustration as Robert and Pacian moved in to distract the golem, approaching it from two directions in an attempt to confuse it. It appeared to focus its soulless gaze on the mercenary, who made it his business to get in its way as much as possible, using his shield to deflect or absorb each blow.

While Robert worked defensively, Pacian was putting his new weapon to work. The shining vythiric blade of his scythe gleamed as he slashed and cut at the metal surface, probing for weak spots and driving the point home. Although challenging, the golem had seen better days and great rents were starting to appear in its iron hide as Pacian unleashed his fury upon it with each savage stroke.

Recovering from his tumble, Aiden waited for a chance to strike as the golem lashed out with its fists, narrowly missing Pacian as it struggled to face off against so many of them at once. Seizing his opportunity, Aiden dashed forward and whispered a word of power just as he struck at the side of the towering construct with his simple blade.

Electricity surged along the length of the sword and carried on through its body. Robert sensed its vulnerability and reacted instantly, switching from defence to offence and delivering a series of devastating cuts with his elf-crafted blade. Metal screeched as he hacked away at one of the construct's legs, where the joint showed signs of repair.

It recovered from the shock faster than anticipated and hit Robert with a backhand stroke which rang throughout the chamber. The mercenary tumbled backwards and skidded to a halt on the floor, wincing in silent agony. His efforts were not wasted though, leaving a great gouge in its thigh, but stopping short of shearing the leg away.

Aiden risked a glance back at Nellise, who had managed to rouse Sayana back to consciousness, but she remained groggy and incoherent. Biting back a curse, he stepped up the attack and hoped his protective invocations would keep him alive. Aiden moved in, ducking underneath the swing of the golem's fist and striking it with his electrified sword. Each hit slowed down the metal monster, buying them time to find a more permanent solution.

Even with their combined strength, they would be hard-pressed to destroy it utterly, but if they could merely cripple it as Robert had intended, they could press on through the tower with less risk.

"Go for the leg!" Aiden cried as Pacian flipped backwards to escape the descending fist of the construct.

"What?" Pacian shouted after he alighted on his feet and took a moment to catch his breath. Aiden couldn't respond as he was busy avoiding the clenched fist of his foe. Despite its run-down condition, the legionnaire seemed perfectly capable of dividing its attention between two targets.

"Shear that bloody leg off," Aiden exclaimed, catching a glancing blow from the construct as its fist slammed into his side. His spectral armour flashed and took the brunt of the blow, but he still staggered backwards from the immense force it absorbed.

Pacian rolled forward and used that momentum to bring the scythe down in a powerful overhead stroke, sending a horrid screeching noise echoing through the chamber. Aiden held his breath in anticipation, while Pacian rolled out of the construct's reach and turned in a low stance to watch the result of his effort.

With an ominous grinding sound, the gnarled and rent leg fell away, dropping to the floor with a resounding boom. The remaining leg was unable to support the legionnaire's body, and like a great metal tree it toppled to the floor with enough force to knock both Aiden and Pacian from their feet.

When he managed pick himself up again, Aiden saw the construct struggling to right itself. Taking off a leg had bought them more time, but it was far from finished. Its massive hands smacked the stone floor and it began to claw its way towards Robert.

Criosa had been tending to the mercenary after his punishing blow, but nothing got him back on his feet faster than the sight of the behemoth crawling towards him.

"Nel, tell me you have Sy back on her feet," Robert called, hobbling on one foot with the princess helping him stand.

"Yes, but she's barely coherent," Nellise reported. "Do we need to move?"

"Yep," Robert advised. "Go around that thing and head for the stairs, we can't kill it without her."

While the rest followed his orders, Aiden ran up behind the construct and struck it with his sword, sending another jolt of electricity through it and slowing the golem down. Pacian rushed to help Nellise move Sayana to the stairs with Aiden keeping an eye on their foe as it shuddered and sparked near the centre of the chamber.

Once everyone else was clear, he cautiously backed away from the battered golem as it struggled to turn and pursue them. He hurried to catch up with the others as they began to ascend the stone stairwell, on the far side of the room.

The strange black and gold stones featured prominently both on the walls and underfoot as they put some distance between themselves and the tower's crippled metal guardian.

"Sy, are you okay?" Robert asked pensively as they followed the curving ascent of the stairs. The sorceress didn't respond. She was held between Nellise and Pacian as they awkwardly kept her moving, her legs dragging limply over each step as they continued to climb.

"How long do these bloody stairs go on for?" Pacian grumbled soon after.

"This can't be right, we should have come out the top of the tower by now," Aiden remarked, growing more unsettled with each moment. In both directions, the staircase seemed to continue on without end, spiralling into the darkness beyond their meagre lights. There were no windows to allow them to see outside, nor mark their progress up the tower.

"It's possible this stairway leads directly to the upper level," Criosa mused while catching her breath, "but as you said, we should have been there by now."

"Wait here," Aiden muttered. "I'm going to scout ahead," Gripping his sword, he strode forward, watching the curve of the wall for signs of a door or something else which would verify their theory. It didn't take long before he saw light coming from up ahead, and breathed a sigh of relief.

This feeling lasted for only a heartbeat as he rounded the curve and saw Nellise, Pacian and the others with their weapons levelled in his direction.

"Shit," Robert snapped as he lowered his sword. Aiden spread his arms wide in exasperation, and looked behind him in wonder.

"Clever, very clever," Criosa murmured thoughtfully. "One of Terinus' more subtle defences. I suspect taking the stairwell was perhaps a little too obvious. There may be another way to ascend the tower from down below. Clearly we cannot advance any further here."

"Back down again I suppose," Robert remarked, nudging the princess to help him back down the stairs once more.

"I'll check to see if that golem is going to give us any trouble," Aiden offered, heading briskly down the stairs. He wasn't sure how long it would take to reach the bottom again, but what he wasn't expecting in the least was the sight of Robert and Criosa just ahead, hobbling downstairs carefully.

"Oh no," Aiden breathed in despair as the others whirled around to see him approaching from above, and quickly came to the realisation they were caught in a very elaborate trap.

"Set me down here," Robert grumbled, wincing as Criosa leaned him against the wall. Pacian and Nellise did likewise with Sayana, who had to be held in place to prevent her tumbling down the stairs. The cleric took out her pouch and continued treating Sayana, while Aiden tried to think of a way out.

"Let me know when she's awake so I can thank her properly for getting us into this mess," Pacian acidly informed Nellise.

"So, what exactly have we walked into here?" Robert quietly asked Aiden without taking his eyes off Sayana.

"Some very advanced magic," Criosa answered for him, with a measure of respect in her voice. "To be honest, I was beginning to think less of Terinus. Protecting the tower with only a pair of battered old war golems is beneath him. This is more like what I was expecting of the man."

"I'm so pleased he has earned your admiration," Aiden drawled. "Perhaps we'd be better served if you could think of a flaw in his design. I've read a little about this sort of incantation, but you probably know more."

"My understanding is rudimentary at best," Criosa replied apologetically. "It defies all the natural laws as I understand them. Such a feat of arcane engineering shouldn't even be possible, and yet, here we are, caught in the middle. Should we spread ourselves along the length of these stairs, I daresay we would be able to see each other in perpetuity."

"Shouldn't be possible," Aiden repeated to himself, taking another look at their surroundings for anything he might have missed. Pacian took another approach. He pulled a small rock out of his belt pouch and tossed it down the stairs. The rock clattered along, striking the stone with each bounce and echoing convincingly from the stonework, until the sound began coming from above them as the rock tumbled down into Pacian's waiting hand once more.

"That would be very amusing if it wasn't so damning for us," he lamented.

"There's obviously a point above... below us where it connects to the other end of the stairs," Aiden postulated. "If we could bypass that point, we might be able to break free."

"How do you propose we do that?" Robert asked caustically. "Smash open the wall and climb up the outside of the tower? Sy would probably die if she tried that again."

"Something with a little more subtlety I think," Aiden replied evenly, gazing at Criosa. She returned a curious look until she suddenly figured out what he was referring to.

"The dimensional jump?" she asked. "It didn't work when I attempted to use it to exit the tower."

"Try it anyway," Aiden suggested. "It may function within the tower itself."

"This has to be the most useful incantation ever," she said as she pulled some items from her pouch. "The only trouble is I usually have to see where I'm going. Jumping blindly like this isn't the best idea I've ever heard."

"Just imagine the curve of the stairwell rising above you and try to follow it," Aiden suggested. You only need to go, perhaps ten yards, I'd say."

"I'll give it a try," she replied. Within moments, she had whispered the arcane words and promptly vanished from sight. Aiden and the others waited, while Nellise began speaking a soft prayer of healing which enveloped them in a refreshing breeze. It didn't take long for Criosa to return, approaching as she did from the stairs above them.

"It worked!" she cried in triumph. "I appeared a few feet above the floor but it was otherwise successful. I will have to shunt each of you out of here individually, but it's as simple as that. Hold on," she added as the princess threw her arms around Aiden. After a brief flash of violet light, they found themselves standing before a metal-rimmed wooden door, on the very top of the stairwell.

"Wait here a moment, I'll be right back," Criosa said before she promptly vanished once more. Aiden took a moment to catch his breath and, in the process, leaned one hand against the door before him. After a few moments, he noticed his hand was starting to feel quite cold, even through the leather glove.

Criosa appeared next to him with Pacian and then vanished again. Pulling his hand away, Aiden took off his gauntlet without thinking and carefully touched the surface of the door.

"What the hell is that?" Pacian remarked as he stared at Aiden's left hand. His momentary confusion gave way to near panic as he quickly pulled the glove back over his scaled hand, just before Criosa appeared with Sayana in tow, who she deposited on the floor carefully.

"This door is very cold," Aiden stuttered to cover his mistake. Pacian continued to stare at Aiden, but thankfully said nothing.

"Well, don't go through it until we're all here," Criosa advised before disappearing again.

"Don't say a bloody word," Aiden growled before Pacian could say anything else.

"Are those scales?" Pacian hissed, ignoring Aiden's advice completely.

"If you say one word to anyone else, I'm going to sew your mouth shut." They fell silent as Criosa brought along the rest, one by one. Pacian appeared thoughtful, as if attempting to figure out nature of what he'd seen, while Aiden focused on Sayana.

Her forehead was cool to the touch, but her breathing was regular. Her eyes fluttered open and glanced up at him, but she was bleary and unfocused.

"I'll give her some kahve to get her back on her feet," Nellise whispered as she gently pushed Aiden to one side. As she reached into her pouch for the ingredients, Aiden reached forward and tried the handle. It seemed to be stuck, but with some effort he managed to open the door. A gust of chilly air enveloped him, cold enough to force him to shield his face with a raised hand.

Inside was another dark chamber, but a few windows along the walls provided light whenever the storm outside flashed with lightning. Ice covered every exposed surface, and icicles hung from the ceiling. Mounds of frozen water dotted the chamber, most likely furniture which had been covered in ice at some point. Bookshelves jutted from the wall at various intervals, also laden with ice, trapping whatever knowledge they contained within.

"I don't know what happened in here, but I don't think we should wait around and find out," Aiden remarked. Next to him, Sayana suddenly got back on her feet, her eyes blinking as if she'd just woken from a long nap.

"We're close, now," Sayana whispered, glancing around the frozen room. "I should have flown up there and taken him on myself, rather than risk all of you like this. Pacian will never let me hear the end of it if we stop here."

"It's true, I won't," Pacian admitted. Before they could react, Sayana reached over to Nellise's pouch and pulled a small flask from within. In one swift movement, she drank the whole thing down.

"Sayana, no!" Nellise cried too late.

"What did you just do?" Robert asked nervously.

"I made enough khave for all of us, and she just drank the lot," Nellise exclaimed.

"That's a bad thing I guess?" Robert wondered.

"It might stop her heart," Nellise explained as she looked at Sayana for signs of distress. The magical light shining from their weapons abruptly dimmed, blanketing them in darkness for a moment. When the light returned, Sayana stood bolt upright, her eyes wide and power dancing along her arms.

"Enough games," she intoned with a strong voice, "I am ending this now." She stepped away from the others and raised her hands above her head. A searing blast of green energy shot straight up, vaporising the ceiling and leaving a dark hole beckoning above. The sorceress took a moment to invoke some magical protection, and then shot upwards through the whole she'd made to confront whatever was on the floor above them.

Aiden spotted a stairwell across the cold room and in spite of his reservations, he led the others through the columns of ice. The pervasive cold seemed to seep into his bones, and by the time they'd taken the stairs to the next floor, Aiden was shivering.

Unsure what to expect next, he and Criosa saw only a pristine kitchen and luxuriously furnished living area on the next floor. A crackling fireplace warmed the room, which came as a welcome relief after the chill of the chamber below. Still, they slowed down and kept their weapons at the ready, as they passed through to the other staircase, skirting around the gaping hole in the floor Sayana had made.

There was no sign of the sorceress after her fiery ascent, but another hole in the ceiling gave clear indication of where she had gone. Aside from the steady rain outside, silence blanketed the upper levels of the tower. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife.

"Terinus could be back at Fairloch, you know," Criosa whispered. "He has rarely left my father's side in the past few years."

"If that's true, then we've a perfect opportunity to search the place for the staff," Robert responded.

"You don't think he'd just keep it on him at all times, do you?" Nellise asked in hushed tones.

"It's too valuable to walk around with," Aiden replied with a shake of his head. "As far as I know, its only capabilities are tied to the Ironlord itself. No, it'll be here somewhere — think of the security we had to face to get to this point."

They climbed the final staircase on the far end of the room, and came to an ornate wooden door, engraved with the image of a tall and gnarled tree. The door seemed very old, and just as strange as the rest of the tower. It wasn't locked, and when Aiden opened it, they could only stare at what lay beyond.

A vast chamber lit by dozens of lanterns opened before them, easily fifty yards across. A roaring fireplace burned on one side, surrounded by a comfortable sitting area. Rows and rows of bookshelves lined the vast space, and the musty aroma of ancient books filled the air. Beyond the library, a wide hallway beckoned onwards, well beyond what should have been the outer edge of the tower itself.

"This is... impossible," Aiden breathed as he calculated the dimensions of the room.

"I have never even read about magic this powerful," Criosa whispered in awe. They walked slowly into the chamber, with the dull rumble of thunder outside reinforcing the incredible reality of the place. Aiden glanced at the books as they went past, unable to read any of the strange spidery script on the bindings.

"It's going to take a lot longer to search than I thought," Aiden mused. "I could get lost in so many books."

"Stay focused," Pacian advised, his eyes scanning the area for signs of danger. Several doors connected to the hall, one of which was open. Peering inside, Aiden saw a circular chamber twenty feet across, lined with white stone engraved with the same gold inscriptions as the rest of the tower. Strange metal boxes lined the walls, one of which looked familiar to Aiden.

"A generator," he exclaimed. "These devices are all of the same design... they're made by the extinct people who created the Lexicon."

"What is Terinus doing with all of this?" Criosa wondered.

"Perhaps it has something to do with the reason we never see his face," Aiden growled. "I am beginning to suspect he isn't who we think he is."

A sudden noise from down the corridor caught their attention, and reminded them of their purpose. It was definitely Sayana's voice they heard, and although they couldn't make out the words, her anger was obvious.

Hurrying down the hall towards the light, they stopped short when an explosion rocked the tower. Moments later, Sayana flew through the open door and crashed into the wall.

"Sy!" Criosa cried, rushing to her aid while Aiden glared at Terinus, who emerged from the smoking doorway ahead. Although Aiden couldn't see his eyes, he knew the wizard was looking right back at him. Rage shut out everything but thoughts of revenge, for here was the man who had plotted to see them hanged in Fairloch, who had manipulated the king into selling his soul for the power of the Ironlord, who kept Aiden and Criosa apart for all those years, and above all, the man who had killed Aiden's mentor Desmond.

The time of reckoning had arrived.

"Aiden..." Terinus rasped, but had no time to speak further as Aiden raised his arm and invoked a bolt of lightning. It struck a protective sphere around the wizard, causing sparks to flash harmlessly around him. Aiden moved in closer, hurling another bolt in the hope of overpowering the protective incantation, but meeting the same result as the first.

At that moment, a huge wooden table eight feet in length flew through the air, from the direction Sayana had landed. It struck the wizard directly, and they disappeared into the room with an almighty crash. Sayana, bloodied but still standing, staggered out into the hallway wiping blood from her nose.

She paid no heed to Aiden and the others, instead raising her arms and sending a torrent of flame to engulf the wreckage of the table. The wooden pieces exploded outwards and froze in mid-air, revealing Terinus beneath it, apparently unharmed. He rose like a spectre of vengeance and with a gesture from his staff, sent the flaming debris back towards Sayana.

Her hovering force shield intercepted some of them, but shrapnel struck her over and over again. She raised her arms and a whirling tornado of fire appeared around her, then she gestured at Terinus and the fire roared forward.

Aiden raised his arms reflexively and backed away from the conflagration, stunned at the intensity of the heat. Sayana stood untouched amidst the flames, an avatar of destruction. Oddly enough, it was the scale of her assault which brought Aiden back to his senses — they needed Terinus alive.

A stone wall abruptly appeared in the doorway, shutting out the flames for a moment, until Sayana shot a bolt of green lightning at it, blasting the wall to pieces. The sorceress was suddenly caught in a sphere of light, freezing her in place as the flames in the hallway were doused. Terinus emerged from the room looking slightly charred, and raised his staff as Robert moved in to attack.

He was caught in the sphere of light, frozen in the moment as Terinus turned towards Aiden. He moved towards the wizard, but was engulfed in a similar sphere. Unlike the others, however, Aiden found he could simply walk through it. The runes on his robe glowed slightly as Desmond's old protective garment shrugged off the holding incantation like water from a duck's back.

Aiden stalked slowly towards the wizard, as if daring him to try something else. A crackle of electricity struck him but had no more effect upon him than the sphere. Seeing Aiden's intent plain upon his face, Terinus tried a different approach. On the wall behind him was a massive, ancient sword. With a gesture from his staff, the blade lifted off its perch and hovered by Terinus' side, as if held by invisible hands.

Aiden drew his own sword and warily approached. The animated blade moved to intercept and he found himself in a duel with a disembodied weapon. There was nobody to attack, and nothing he could think of would slow the weapon down.

As he manoeuvred around, Terinus made things even more difficult by magically hurling smoking debris at him. Aiden's armour prevented the worst impacts, but one caught him on the side of his head, sending a line of blood flowing freely down his face.

A flicker of movement in the corner of his eye caught Aiden's attention as Pacian, moving through the shadows, came to their aid. He whirled his bladed staff around, trying to get through the wizard's defences but found his attacks futile.

Sensing an opportunity to act, Aiden bashed aside the animated sword and lunged at Terinus. Although Aiden was sure his weapon would be useless, he had another plan. He moved as close as he could to the wizard until his robe connected with Terinus' protective magic. A ripple of energy surrounded them as the robe's magic nullified all of the incantations keeping their attacks at bay.

With his attention diverted, the animated sword swung hard and cut him across the back. A searing, white-hot pain flooded Aiden's consciousness and he staggered to one side, a blow from the wizard's staff to the side of his head sending him reeling. Barely holding on to consciousness, Aiden fell to the floor, his weapon clattering from his hands and the hovering sword moved in above him, its point touching his throat.

"Lower your weapons," Terinus rasped, leaning on his staff. "This fight is completely unnecesary."

"If you're going to kill us, get it over with," Pacian challenged.

"I have dozens of incantations capable of dispersing the fabric of your being across the cosmos," the wizard hissed. "Do not mistake my mercy for weakness. Had I desired your death, I could have done so at any time. It is surprisingly difficult to mete out the exact amount of force to disable someone, without killing them."

"Like you did with Desmond?" Aiden snapped. "You smashed his defences and allowed the archers to put half a dozen arrows in him."

"That was not of my design," Terinus answered. "The old fool was going to ruin everything."

"That was the idea!" Criosa accused. "He risked everything to save our lives, after you and my father sentenced Aiden to hang. Desmond's death is your responsibility, as is cursing my father, your friend and your king, into becoming another madman just like his ancestor. You're a monster."

"I wasn't trying to kill you, Aiden — I was trying to save you," Terinus said.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Aiden scoffed. Terinus did not answer. Instead, he pointed to an object sitting on a bench on the other side of the room. Taking in his surroundings for the first time, Aiden saw he was in some kind of workshop, with tools and bench space covered with all manner of contraptions.

Aiden gave the wizard a sidelong glance as the sword above him retreated a few feet. He got back on his feet and slowly moved over to the bench, keeping a wary eye on the blade behind him. There were a number of curious objects there, but one of them was clearly what Terinus had pointed to. It was a damaged rope noose, the loop of which had been cut open to allow someone's head free.

"This is the noose which was going to be used to hang me," Aiden breathed, his hands shaking as he picked it up. "You sick bastard. What are you doing with this?"

"Look closer," Terinus advised. Aiden did as he was told, examining the noose closer. In amongst the rope fibres was coiled a thin strand of a black cord, something Aiden could recall in vivid detail from the execution ceremony itself.

The cord wound through the rope to a bulge above the noose where it was wrapped around itself for strength. Something was inside the coiled rope. Aiden set about untying it enough to see what was in there, and when he was done, he could only stand there mutely staring at what he found within. Criosa came over and peered curiously at what he'd discovered.

"What is it?" she asked, looking at a diamond set into an iron surround, engraved with fine markings.

"Do you recall the amulet Robert used to avoid his own death at the Battle of Culdeny?" Aiden inquired, staring at Terinus as he spoke. "It's one of those. It was wrapped in the noose, so when I died from being hanged, it would have brought me back to life a short time later."

"Long afterward, I would have removed your body from sight," Terinus added, "where you would have been returned to perfect health, out of sight of the public and the king himself. I'm certain you are aware of their scarcity and value."

"Yes," Aiden whispered, taken completely off-guard by this sudden revelation. "What are you... why?"

"My plans are complex and nuanced beyond your comprehension, and although things have not proceeded as I had wished, you have, in your own way, played your part as well as I had hoped," Terinus explained. "I only wish I could have contacted you earlier, but you are wearing a ring of Desmond's which makes it impossible to locate you through magical means.

"You wish answers, but more than this I cannot tell, for I risk my own existence and that of the entire kingdom, should you fail in your goal. If you do confront King Seamus, succeed in defeating him and destroying that armour, I can give you a full account of my actions, and a foe the likes of which you have never seen. You will meet the puppet masters behind this show we call life, and if we are successful, we might even live to tell others about it."

Terinus raised his staff and intoning a few arcane words. The spheres holding the others vanished, and the stone walls which had been damaged in the fight reassembled before their eyes.

"Your answers create more questions," Aiden accused the wizard. "Frankly, I'm still trying to wrap my head around the idea you tried to save our lives. Why go to so much trouble?"

"I need your help," Terinus replied. "I am simply a tool of higher powers, those who would see the war continue for many years to come. I must do as I am bid, or risk even greater punishment upon the people of Feydwiir. My role as King's Wizard and advisor is simply a means to an end, but long have I laboured in secret, yearning for both revenge and freedom from the invisible yoke around my neck. But I cannot succeed alone. For what I have planned, I need the help of someone with a certain kind of knowledge, and until recently, there have been no candidates for the role. Until you."

"If you are referring to my understanding of the language of the ancients, and the knowledge of their relics, perhaps you should consult the Lexicon which was taken from me when I was captured," Aiden pointed out coldly. Terinus reached into a pocket and withdrew a familiar looking small metal box, and with a gesture, caused it to hover through the air to Aiden's hand.

"I have my own," the wizard rasped, nodding to a much shinier box of similar proportions sitting on a far desk. "Speaking of such, Sayana Arai, at last we have a chance to speak," Terinus continued, pulling up a nearby chair and sitting down. "You appear to be under the influence of a powerful narcotic."

"Kahve," Nellise explained. "A lot of kahve."

"Then it is entirely possible you will not survive the night," Terinus added with a measure of sorrow. "Your time here is short. For your benefit, I've used an incantation to shield knowledge of your arrival here from those I shall not name, and it will soon expire. You have specific questions as to the nature of your existence, questions I can answer." He waited expectantly as Sayana gathered the strength to speak.

"Can you remove these?" she asked, gesturing at the tattoos on her bare skin.

"I cannot," the wizard replied. "I could no more remove yours than I could my own." Hesitantly, almost reluctantly, Terinus rolled up the sleeves of his robe and pulled off his gloves, revealing intricate lines very much like Sayana's own.

"You are a sorcerer," Nellise remarked, disturbing the flow of healing energy.

"But I heard you speak incantations similar to mine," Criosa protested. "What manner of magic do you actually practice?"

"The explanation for this will have to wait, as there is no short answer," the wizard said dismissively. "As to you, Sayana, I can see what happened at the Battle of Highmarch has plagued you ever since. I cannot remove your enhancements, but I can adjust them so the Ironlord cannot control you as it did before. It is a minor procedure which I have already performed on myself, for obvious reasons. I want you to know I tried to keep you out of the battle at Highmarch that day, and I am sorry I could not be there to keep you from falling under its sway."

"You did set the Inquisition on to me," Sayana whispered.

"For your own good," Terinus lamented.

"At least he has a good reason," Pacian remarked. "Mind you, they picked me up as well. I probably wouldn't be alive today if Aiden hadn't busted me out of that cell."

"So, where do we go from here?" Robert asked.

"I will send you to Auchlevie, in the Stonegaard Mountains to await the arrival of the Tulsonite forces," Terinus said, slowly standing up. "Yes, we are fully aware of their approach to the capital, and King Seamus awaits their arrival."

"Wait, the staff," Aiden blurted. "The whole point of coming here was to obtain the staff so we could defeat the Ironlord like before."

"I am truly sorry, Aiden, but King Seamus no longer trusts anyone but himself."

"If that means what I think it means..." Robert said, with Aiden's heart sinking as he realised what Terinus was about to say.

"He took the staff from me one day, and hid it somewhere within the castle," the wizard explained. "I'm afraid you will have to find it before you encounter Seamus, or he will surely destroy you." Aiden winced visibly as a flash of memory burned through his mind. The image of being struck by the Ironlord's energy weapon replayed in his mind over and over, and Aiden slumped to the floor.

"We can't fight that," he muttered. "We have to get past the king to find the item that will allow us to fight him. He's too powerful, we can't..."

"We'll figure something out, Aiden, I promise," Criosa whispered, sitting next to him and gently stroking his hair. He hadn't realised it, but he had pinned all their hopes on finding the staff here, and now that his worst fears had come to pass, he had nothing to sustain him. No plans, no brilliant ideas, just the prospect of facing the same mighty foe he had two years ago, but with no real protection, and no way of harming it.

Terinus watched him for a moment, then looked around his laboratory and began gathering up some curious objects into a pouch lying nearby.

"When you leave, I will erase all signs of your presence," Terinus explained. "I cannot aid you in the fight that is to come, but neither will I impede your progress. I will simply vanish, and allow my masters to watch their creation destroy the Tulsonite forces coming to lay siege to Fairloch. Or so they think."

He dropped the pouch into Aiden's lap, which seemed to snap him out of his haunted reverie. Peering inside, he saw some wands, scrolls and a pair of familiar amulets.

"The Phoenix Stones are irreplaceable, but I suspect you have more need of them than I," the wizard continued, referring to the diamond studded amulets which had been wrapped in rope. "The other items I am sure you will find useful. I have some other suspicions about the source of your power, Aiden, but I will keep them to myself for the time being. Suffice it to say, you are not as powerless as you might think."

"I would thank you, but I suspect you are guilty of more crimes than we are aware of," Criosa responded.

"My dear Criosa, the list of my misdeeds would fill this very tower, but it is my sincere hope that in the next few weeks, I may just be able to balance the scales of justice." The wizard moved to Sayana's side. "May I?" he asked politely, awaiting her nod of approval before touching the back of her head, just above the neck.

"This may pinch a little, but it is necessary to inhibit external control." She flinched slightly as he pressed a small object against her skin, then spoke a short incantation.

"Is that all?" Sayana asked, rubbing her neck in surprise.

"It took several years of painstaking effort to learn how to achieve this," Terinus informed her. "It is a temporary solution, but will hold long enough for something more permanent. Rest assured, you will never be controlled again." He seemed to linger by her side for a moment, before standing up and addressing them all once more.

"Go, rest, and recover from your efforts, for you will need every ounce of strength for the coming confrontation. Not only does Seamus have some of the university's most potent wizards under his control, several members of the Church Hierarchy stand by his side. The archieros has passed away, and those who remain are completely loyal to the Crown."

"I suspected as much," Nellise remarked. "Although I refuse to believe every single acolyte and priest has fallen from grace, the key members of the Hierarchy must be brought to account. I will deal with them."

"We will deal with them," Pacian corrected, giving a clear indication of how he planned to help as he hefted his scythe. Robert and Nellise helped Sayana to her feet, as Terinus began to prepare his incantation.

"I wish we could have avoided that painful fight, but now, everything is back on track," he said. "Should you be successful, we will meet again." With that, he incanted the spell and with a flash of violet, the group found themselves standing outside the Auchlevie Inn. Aiden held on to Criosa fiercely, trying with all of his heart to believe they could win, even as he still battled the haunting images of his past.

Chapter Twenty

Four days later, Aiden sat half-asleep in an overstuffed chair by the fireplace in the Auchlevie Inn. The common room was almost deserted, with only a few of the older local residents enjoying a stout beer and a meal. Most of the people of this dwarven township were in the fields at this time of year, taking full advantage of the warm sun and clear skies.

Another reason for the quiet establishment was the continuing conflict. As Gordon MacTavish had mentioned recently, Stonegaard had been closed off from the outside world, and the few dwarves not safely shut inside their mountain fortress kept to themselves, wary of humans taking more than a passing interest in them.

This worked well with Robert's desire for their group to keep a low profile, as they were technically within the borders of Aielund, and it wouldn't have surprised Aiden at all if they'd run into a patrol of soldiers at some point.

Nothing of the sort had eventuated, giving Aiden and the others a chance to rest and recuperate after their near-disaster at the Black Tower. Sayana's life had been hanging by a thread for the first two days, forcing Nellise to work day and night to keep her alive. The effects of the kahve had left the sorceress dangerously exhausted, almost to the point of death.

Robert had rarely left her side during this time, offering comfort even if she wasn't conscious to appreciate it. Despite the deadly situation she had placed them in, Robert had forgiven her without question. Aside from Nellise, the others weren't quite so as fast to follow suit. Pacian had left after the first night, mentioning his desire to visit the nearby monastery where he had spent the last few years.

Criosa was forced to stay in their room, as the innkeeper, along with several other patrons had recognised her on sight. It was one of the problems with being a public figure. Robert received certain assurances about their discretion — possibly extracted at sword-point — which allowed Criosa to relax somewhat, but the prospect of being identified by an agent of her father kept her within the confines of her small room for the duration.

Aiden had no such concerns. He was unlikely to be identified on sight as he no longer resembled the neatly groomed lord he had been when he'd left Fairloch. Unshaven and dishevelled, he more closely resembled a wandering wizard than any noble he'd ever seen, and Criosa had remarked how much he looked like a young version of Desmond. It was just the robe, Aiden had reminded her as she tweaked his fledgling beard.

Keeping to himself had given him a chance to examine his scales. He'd used a lot of sorcery in the last few days, and had gasped in shock when he saw the extent of their growth over his skin. His entire left arm was covered in the smooth golden scales, and they even reached his back. Along with this were the recurrence of his dreams of flight, but he was beginning to suspect they weren't his dreams, but Salinder's.

It wasn't difficult to conjecture that the more he delved into this power, the more the dragon would take over, but he did wonder to what extent. The gifts Aiden had received from Terinus would allow him to avoid tapping into that power as much as possible. Still, he had to be careful to avoid Criosa finding out prematurely. Once the crisis was over, he need never use his power again and the dragon within him should subside completely.

He had been left to ponder what they'd learned from the Black Tower, along with its still-mysterious owner. It had been a revelation to see the Phoenix Stone, as Terinus had called them, wrapped inside the noose.

The king was most certainly out of control, and some higher force wanted it that way. Although Aiden wanted to go back and learn more from Terinus, he knew they still had to face Criosa's father and that damnable armour before more people died. And this is what kept Aiden awake these past few nights more than anything else.

Presently, Robert clunked down the stairs and strode across the common room toward him, fully equipped and ready in case they ran into trouble. The few patrons at the bar eyed him warily, but the mercenary paid them no mind. Instead, he pulled a chair away from a nearby table, turned it about and put it down in front of Aiden, then straddled it.

"How are you doing, kid?" Robert asked, taking out a cigar and lighting it with a taper from the nearby fire.

"Just thinking," Aiden murmured, not really in the mood to talk.

"There's your problem right there. Too much thinking's bad for you. You should get drunk or something."

"Was there something you wanted?" Aiden asked irritably.

"We have to speak about what's to come," Robert said in a more serious tone. "But first, let's talk about you. I've seen that look before and it's not pretty. You're thinking we've got no chance and we're heading to our deaths."

"Am I wrong?"

"Well," the mercenary said thoughtfully with a puff of his cigar, "I'll admit things are a little more challenging that I'd hoped."

"That's an understatement," Aiden scoffed. "How's Sy, by the way?"

"She's going to be fine, and don't change the subject."

"Alright," Aiden sighed. "You know, I've been sitting here for hours, day after day, trying to think of a way through this which doesn't involve our deaths. I just can't see it."

"You're too close to the problem," Robert advised. "You fought the thing face to face, and I've got a world of respect for that but it's blinded you to other possibilities."

"It can destroy entire buildings in a matter of moments," Aiden pointed out. "I had some incredibly potent magic keeping me alive the entire fight. If I try the same thing this time, I'll be incinerated instantly. And he's going to have that staff somewhere close, I guarantee you. He knows how valuable it is."

"Don't fight him, then," Robert suggested. "Get your head away from the idea you have to duel him just because you did so last time. If we do this right, we'll never need to face him directly."

"What have you got in mind?" Aiden asked curiously. Robert puffed his cigar thoughtfully and looked out a window with unfocused eyes. The smoke wafted around him as he seemed to ponder something before speaking.

"Have I ever told you why I became a mercenary?"

"Not that I recall," Aiden replied.

"It was nearly twenty years ago, when I was a loyal soldier of the king in the Aielish regulars. I felt I was too smart to be a soldier, but times were hard and my family's farm wasn't making a lot of money, so I signed up for honour and glory and all that bullshit. My second year in, my platoon was assigned to track down an elusive group of raiders who were hitting caravans along the Bracksfordshire Highway."

"I'm familiar with the place, and the concept," Aiden muttered.

"Yeah it's not an original idea is it? Those forests are too bloody easy to hide in. This particular group of raiders was led by a man with real cunning — he knew when and what to hit, and always managed to get away without a trace. Anyway, we had a good tracker with us, a proper ranger, and he managed to get a bead on them after a recent hit. Followed 'em right back to their nest. Our captain was a minor noble, schooled in Fairloch, and came up with a plan of attack based on the reports of our ranger."

"When we moved in, it turns out they'd been waiting for us. The captain wasn't quick enough to adapt and we lost four men instantly. The captain was the next to go, 'cause he stood in the middle of the group bellowing orders. He might as well have painted a target on his chest. See, the leader of the raiders wasn't an idiot — he knew hitting all those caravans was going to provoke a response, so he set up an elaborate trap for anyone who came looking for him."

"I'm really hoping this story has a happy ending," Aiden drawled.

"I'm still here, aren't I?" Robert pointed out. "Anyway, our sergeant was an unimaginative man and couldn't get control in the chaos, and our men were dropping all around us. Their leader had one of those dwarven repeating crossbows, one of the first ones made I reckon, so the man had some connections. The damned thing kept us pinned down real good. Being the plucky scamp I was, I took charge over his vocal protests. Took a hit to the jaw to get him to shut up. Pompous oaf."

"You knocked him out?"

"Too bloody right I did," Robert snorted. "I rallied the men and got them to take up a defensive line. When the enemy gave up shooting arrows and came at us with their blades, my boys gave a good account of themselves. I would have loved to join them there, but I had a better idea."

"Run?" Aiden asked cynically.

"I'd be lying if I said it hadn't crossed my mind, but like I said, I had a better idea," Robert answered. "I grabbed our ranger and crept around the side of the fight, as the leader of the raiders — I never learned his name — led from behind. Our lads were making a huge racket, and he never heard us coming. Impaled the smug bastard on a tree while he was watching the fight, then ordered what was left of our platoon to retreat in the confusion."

"You used your own men as a distraction," Aiden accused.

"Yeah I did, and we got the job done," Robert finished without apology. "Wasn't my fault they walked into an ambush in the first place, mate. Our commander didn't see things my way however, and when the sergeant came around, he squawked like a chicken, accusing me of insubordination. I was dishonourably discharged for my efforts, so I went south and hooked up with a merc company to pay my bills. True story."

"I believe you," Aiden remarked sourly. "King Seamus has something a little more powerful than a crossbow."

"Sure, but the principle's the same," Robert shrugged. "Gabe will give us the time we need to find the staff, and then hit the king with everything we've got."

"Thousands could die while we're trying to locate that staff," Aiden pointed out. "Have you always been this callous?"

"Nobody is going to get out of this alive, if we don't have the guts to do what has to be done," Robert said pointedly. "Taking out the raider boss broke their morale and threw them into confusion, allowing the rest of us to escape. I don't waste good men needlessly, but when lives are at stake, I've always prided myself on being smarter than the other guy. The point is, we won then, and we'll win now." Further discussion was interrupted by the sounds of an army arriving in town. The march of booted feet drowned out all other noise and immediately had the locals on edge. Robert peered out the window and a mirthless grin appeared on his face.

"Ah, it looks like our diversion has arrived," he said with a grotesque wink. "I'll give Gabe this much — he knows logistics better than anyone I've ever met. To get that army here so quickly is little short of miraculous. Things must have gone well at Culdeny." The door to the inn opened, bringing a gust of cold air with it. Pacian entered, his white hair covered with a dark hood. Gone was the plain brown robe of the Keepers of the Light, discarded in favour of practical leathers once more. It was like the past two years had never happened.

"Welcome back," Aiden greeted him after taking in the new look. "Feeling better?"

"My wounds are healed, if that's what you're asking," Pacian answered. "Army's here."

"We noticed. Did you talk with the Abbot about the Keepers joining the cause?"

"I did," Pacian replied with a brief nod. "He refuses to take sides in this fight, as the spiritual wellbeing of his brethren comes before any other concerns."

"Did you at least try to reason with him?" Aiden pressed irritably.

"I couldn't seem to convince them that joining a pointless, suicidal cause was to their benefit," Pacian responded dryly. "I guess my heart wasn't in it. He said the needs of his flock were greater than deciding who rules from Fairloch. So, I told him to flock off, threw my robe in his face and left."

"It doesn't matter," Robert advised, placating Aiden with a raised hand before he could unleash on Pacian. "Sir Gabriel picked up a lot of reinforcements between Bracksford and here, which might be enough for our needs."

"He didn't get any help from Stonegaard either," Pacian added. "You should see it — it looks like they brought an entire mountain down over the entrance. Nothing's getting through that for a long time."

"What is that racket outside?" Nellise asked as she and the other ladies came down the stairs.

"Relax, it's our army, not theirs," Pacian explained. He and Nellise caught each other's eyes for a moment, with only the slightest frown of disapproval registering on the cleric's forehead. But of more interest to everyone was Sayana, who walked slowly into the common room wearing a plain blue dress. Her head was bowed and her hair tumbled in front of her eyes, as it often did when she was feeling shy.

When she finally peeked out of her tangle of wild red hair, Aiden could see dark patches under her eyes, a legacy of the exhaustion which had nearly claimed her life. Faint scars could be seen on her cheek as well, suggesting Nellise had simply been unable to mend her fully over the past few days. She was lucky to be alive, all things being equal.

"Good to see you up, baby," Robert said, moving in to give her a quick kiss on her lips. She smiled wanly for a moment, then glanced around and saw the expectant faces observing her.

"Hello," she whispered shyly, and then hesitated before continuing. "You probably hate me right now, and I can't say I blame you. I just wanted to say how sorry I am for what I put you through... I was in a very bad place these past few weeks, but that's no excuse. I'm truly sorry. I will make amends for my behaviour of late, I swear."

"Was it worth it?" Aiden inquired, covering his uncomfortable feelings regarding her recent conduct.

"I hope so," Sayana answered, using one hand to feel along the back of her neck.

"Did Terinus actually do anything?" Robert asked suspiciously. "He basically just touched your neck with a piece of metal as far as I could tell."

"The markings around my neck no longer connect with those along the rest of my body," she explained. "It feels different when I move my head around, almost as if something has been severed underneath the skin. But more than that, a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. For the first time in two years, I feel... free."

"I don't know, he might have done something weird to you," Robert mused thoughtfully. "I'll have to give you a full examination to know for sure." The ladies blushed, while Sayana hid her face once more underneath her hair.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Pacian blurted. "Robert, Sir Gabriel said he wanted to speak with you out in the yard."

"Probably wants help putting his truss on," Robert muttered. "Duty calls. I'll be back shortly." He gave the sorceress another peck on the cheek as he headed out through the door. Once he was gone, Pacian turned to Sayana and without warning, gave her a stinging slap across the same cheek. He then grasped her by the shoulders and forced her to stare straight into his eyes.

"You recklessly endangered our lives, dragged us to that tower and then left us to deal with the consequences when you fainted away," he growled quietly, but with fierce intensity. "You may think us mere mortals are a burden for you to look after, but Aiden and I each stood in a dragon's mouth, so don't think for one moment you're carrying us — we all pitch in, because we're a team.

"When we let our problems become more important than the team, good people die. I've been down that road before, and I won't let you, or anyone else make the same mistake. If you try anything like that again, I'm going to shove my boot so far up your arse, all your power won't get it back out again."

Sayana nodded quickly, too overwhelmed by the confrontation to speak. Pacian let her go and walked to the other side of the room as if nothing had happened. The few patrons in the bar who had witnessed the scene picked up their tankards of beer and headed for the stairs, while Sayana retreated to the shadows nearby. Criosa went to make sure she was alright, while Aiden laid his piercing gaze on his old friend. Nellise joined Pacian moments later, and although they kept to themselves, Aiden could still make out what was said between them.

"That was a little harsh," Nellise said to the former ascetic under her breath.

"I said what everyone was thinking, but didn't have the guts to say out loud," Pacian answered.

"Your attire... have you renounced your vows to the Keepers?"

"The robe was a formality," Pacian explained patiently. "I turned from their path some time ago." The two of them were close to one another, but never touched. "You're not happy about it, I understand. Just remember, I only joined with them to avoid the noose, and we're either going to have a change in government pretty soon, or we'll all be dead."

"You were so close to redemption," Nellise breathed sadly. "Don't be so quick to discard your hard-earned progress. Do you think the healing I give freely is an easy thing to achieve? Less than one in twenty members of the Church were ever able to channel divine energies. Surprisingly, you were one of them. It is a rare gift you should not discard so readily."

"Can I do that while I slaughter our enemies?" Pacian asked cynically. "It seems to be a contradiction of intent. I'm not quite that hypocritical."

"I do it," Nellise whispered sadly.

"You do so reluctantly. I do so because I truly believe they need to die." Nellise reached out to him with one hand, reaching into his tunic and retrieving a small symbol of Kylaris hanging around his neck by a thin golden chain.

"She hasn't given up on you yet, Pacian," Nellise said. "Don't you give up either." They shared a moment of staring into each other's eyes, before the door outside opened and a number of armoured men stomped into the common room of the inn. General Sir Gabriel Duquesne took in the scene while removing his thick gloves. His eyes hovered over Pacian for a moment longer than anyone else, but he said nothing.

"Good morning, Your Highness," he greeted Criosa with a curt nod to the rest of them. "I am pleased to see you are all still alive. The reputation of Terinus precedes him. I trust your continued existence means you have good news for me?"

"Welcome to Auchlevie, General," Criosa answered with aplomb. "Perhaps you'd care to refresh yourself before we conduct our meeting?"

"I have had time enough to rest and think on the slow journey here. This room appears to be almost deserted, and will suffice for our purposes. You, barkeep — I will have a brandy, and then you will remove yourself from our presence."

The dwarven man behind the bar nodded warily and produced a bottle and short glass. Once it was full, he quickly ducked through the side door. At a gesture from the general, his men checked and secured the entrances to the common room while Sir Gabriel sipped his drink.

"Go ahead, Your Highness," he said to Criosa as he took a seat at the bar. Criosa shrugged to Aiden, and then informed the general of their assault on the Black Tower. He listened impassively for the most part, with a scornful glance at Sayana now and then for good measure.

"So, it is with some trepidation I must inform you that—" Criosa began, but was interrupted by Robert.

"The staff is secure and we're ready to proceed with the assault. Forgive my intrusion, Highness, but we don't have time to waste on bandied words." Aiden alone knew what Robert had in mind, and by keeping news of the staff's absence secret, he really was planning to use the army as a diversion.

"May I see it?" Sir Gabriel asked of the mercenary.

"We have it under lock and key, and nobody is going to see it, no matter how important they are," Robert replied. "Terinus isn't dead, just incapacitated, and there's no telling if he or any of the king's other wizards will be able to locate it at this distance. We're not unveiling it until we're right on top of the Ironlord."

"A wise plan," the general nodded. "My men have marched long and hard to arrive here, but after a brief respite, we will continue on to Fairloch."

"How did things go in Culdeny?" Criosa asked.

"It was the shortest siege in history," he answered with a faint smile. "It took two hours for those cannons to reduce their walls to rubble, and the defenders sued for peace shortly thereafter. Siege warfare may be a thing of the past, if these new weapons are anything to go by. The real challenge will be Fairloch's defences, of course, but it was a stirring victory nonetheless. The mercenary fleet beached their ships and joined my land forces just before we set out to the east."

"I'm a little concerned about the lack of defences along the way," Criosa pointed out. "It's safe to assume my father knows of your incursion, yet there has been nothing to stop you save the meagre garrisons at Culdeny and Bracksford?"

"I believe he has overextended his forces in the recent past," Sir Gabriel explained. "Those who remain in active service have clearly been pulled back to Fairloch, in order to defend the capital against our inevitable arrival. He knows the end is coming, and is doing everything he can to avoid it by consolidating power in Fairloch. Much good it will do him when his vaunted relic armour is rendered useless."

"We just need to find a way past the front lines, gain access to the city and confront my father as you commence the attack," Criosa said.

"Simplicity itself," Robert said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "While we were holed up here over the past few days, I did some investigating. There's a small ship docked just north of here along the coast. We can commandeer it and sail her into the harbour, and then use the aqueducts to infiltrate the city."

"You don't think he'll be prepared for that?" Criosa asked with a raised eyebrow.

"There will be some defences around the harbour, but with Sir Gabriel's army and Gordon's cannons making a racket on the south gate, I bet every spare man will be sent there instead. We can deal with what's left."

"It will take a further two days for my army to arrive at Fairloch, barring any unforeseen circumstances," Sir Gabriel said as he finished his brandy, and tossed a few coins onto the counter. "You have that long to gain access to the city and accomplish your mission. If you fail, I do not believe any of us will survive."

"I'll keep that in mind," Robert grunted. He offered his hand to the general, who responded with a firm handshake. "Good luck to you, sir. Try not to get killed."

"Good fortune to you and your team," Sir Gabriel replied, giving Criosa a curt bow as he headed for the door with his officers and men in tow.

"Get your gear together — we leave immediately," Robert grunted to the others as he threw the stub of his cigar into the fire. Aiden went up to his room and quickly packed, while still finding time to exchange some passionate kisses with Criosa. Their possible impending doom filled them with desire, but there was no time to pursue such feelings further, and Aiden wouldn't have allowed Criosa to see his scaled arm in any case.

* * *

"Thar she blows," Robert drawled as he looked out over a magnificent piece of chiselled coastline along the northern edge of Aielund, amidst the blustery wind. The sun was almost down to the horizon, after a long day of travel through the Stonegaard Mountains. They were still well above sea level, and stood at the point where the mountains abruptly dropped away to a sheer cliff.

Robert's salty language referred to a small ship docked at a short pier, not far from a rocky promontory, upon which stood a lighthouse. A winding path descended along the coast towards a cottage built near the jetty, promising a hair-raising finale to their days' journey.

"Is that it?" Pacian remarked dourly. "It's barely large enough to hold Robert's ego."

"Plenty of room to hide a body in," the mercenary growled back at him. Aiden was unsure if Sayana had mentioned her encounter with Pacian to him, for she had remained silent for the entire journey from Auchlevie.

"I was informed it was a fishing ship, but it's barely that," Robert mused. "Can't be more than a ten-ton picard I reckon. Still, it'll be good enough for a short voyage to the city, as long as the weather holds up. Let's get down there before we lose the light."

There was no argument from anyone as they headed for the path and began their descent. Aiden could hear the sound of waves crashing against the rocky shoreline grow louder with each passing minute, and although the path was adequately wide, negotiating it was still a hair-raising experience. He kept his eyes and his thoughts on the horizon, taking in the view as the sun began to sink below the rim of the world.

It was properly dark by the time they reached the bottom of the path, with Nellise's light guiding them over the final yards. Not far away, the lighthouse began to shine brightly over the area, serving as both beacon and warning for vessels sailing the seas at night. The cottage was lit up as well, with warm, inviting light glowing through the windows, and the scent of a hearty stew cooking wafting on the wind.

A black cat with yellow eyes stared at Aiden and the others as they approached the front door, before dashing away to a safe distance. Aiden took the steps two at a time and knocked on the door, hoping they wouldn't have any trouble from the residents within. There were doubtless many people who were loyal to King Seamus, and would be unlikely to aid an invading army if they knew about it.

Moments later, the door opened and a neatly groomed man of advancing years and steely blue eyes stood before them. He seemed familiar to Aiden, and they stared at each other for a moment before recognition dawned upon them both.

"Captain Sherrard?" Aiden blurted. "Sir Denholm Sherrard?"

"Lord Aiden Wainwright, as I live and breathe," the old sailor greeted him with a firm handshake. "I can scarcely believe it's you. Word reached us here weeks ago that you, along with several others, were killed in a confrontation at the castle."

"Is that right?" Aiden muttered, glancing back at Criosa. "Others heard that we escaped and became traitors. They can't seem to get their stories straight. I haven't seen you since our time on board the Redoubtable. What are you doing all the way out here?"

"An early retirement, actually," the captain explained ruefully. "I ran into quite a few ethical conundrums over the last twelve months which forced me to speak my mind. My words were not well received, and I lost everything but the clothes on my back and a small stash of coins I kept for emergencies. My commission, my ship, my crew, and my title, all taken from me by a man I once thought I knew."

"You are doubtless referring to my father, Sir Denholm," Criosa said as she stepped into view.

"Your Highness," the captain exclaimed, bowing low before her. "Please, it's just Denholm now, I am knight of the realm no more, and my commission was taken from me."

"We'll see about that," Criosa remarked with a raised eyebrow. "We are sorry to hear how you've run afoul of the regime in Fairloch, yet heartened by the moral stand which brought you to this end. I would like nothing more than to sit and chat with you for a while, but in a way, your fall from grace will work in our favour."

"It would be nice if there were a silver lining," Denholm said wistfully.

"We need to enter Fairloch discreetly, through the Docklands, and for that—"

"You need a ship," he finished for her.

"Captain Sherrard, you served our country for a long time, and you have certainly earned your retirement, but I must ask one last service of you," Criosa implored. "Sail us into the harbour undetected, so that we can end this war once and for all."

"I trust you have some sort of plan to avoid certain capture and death?" Sherrard asked pointedly.

"You better believe we do," Aiden assured him with a grim smile. "You'll probably be able to hear it from here, after you've dropped us off."

"Indeed? Well, I had planned a quiet evening by the fire, listening to the sea and keeping watch on the lighthouse, as is my duty, but I suppose we could go for a quick sail — for old time's sake."

"Lovely," Criosa beamed as the old sailor stepped out of his cottage and closed the door. He walked with a step still vigorous, even for his advancing years, and after gathering up some rope, a heavy coat and a lantern, he escorted them out to the waiting ship. Visible by the lantern light on the rear of the ship was painted, in elegant letters, the words Sea Eagle.

"She's a small vessel," Denholm explained as they approached, "and doesn't really care for rough weather, but we've a strong southwestern wind coming in and she'll get us to Fairloch before this time tomorrow."

"That'll give us time to make our way through the city and neutralise their defences in advance of the coming attack," Robert mused aloud. "I hope we can get some sleep on this ship of yours, Captain, as we won't be getting any more til we win, or we're dead."

"Charming fellow you have there," Denholm remarked to Criosa.

"He has his uses," she confided. As they boarded the ship, the small black cat they saw early darted past them and took up position near the bow.

"Don't mind old' Blacky," Denholm chuckled. "I never sail without him, and he knows it. As fine a First Mate as I've ever had."

"Your standards must be quite low," Pacian remarked quietly, exchanging a long look with the plucky feline. Sayana gave the former ascetic a glowering stare, indicating her true feelings towards him. She approached the small cat, which eagerly accepted a pat from her.

Once they settled in, Aiden helped the captain cast off and deploy the mainsail. The Sea Eagle caught the wind immediately, and began cutting through the waves, taking them away from the coast towards their final destination.

Chapter Twenty-One

The still waters were disturbed only by the gentle, rhythmic paddling of the oars. A heavy, unseasonable fog blanketed the Sea Eagle as she passed through the Winding Straits, which connected the bay upon which Fairloch was built with the sea. There was no wind to speak of, which had resulted in this fog descending early in the afternoon, forcing the men to take up oars and row.

It turned out to be a blessing in disguise, as Captain Sherrard remarked soon afterward, for they were all but invisible in the narrow passage to passing ships. They kept silent and moved the oars as quietly as they could, hoping to remain undetected.

Twice on their journey through the straits, they had been forced to stow their oars and remain absolutely quiet as they drifted past one of the Aielish navy's ships. Becalmed in the still conditions, Aiden could hear the frustrated crews through the fog and briefly wondered what would happen if their tiny vessel was discovered going past. Then he looked to Sayana and remembered just how devastating fire was against wooden ships. They were doing the sailors a favour by remaining hidden.

"That was the Redoubtable," Sherrard lamented in a low voice when they had passed the ship safely.

"How could you tell in this fog?" Robert asked.

"I know that ship better than any man alive. I'd recognize her as a dot on the horizon, or if she were in pieces. It breaks my heart to see her impeccable record tarnished by service to tyranny."

Their mood turned grim for the remainder of the journey. Night fell shortly after they entered the bay itself, with their passage illuminated only by a ghostly full moon. They pressed on cautiously, trusting Sayana's sharp vision from the bow of the ship to spot anything. The small black cat sat by her side throughout the journey, for the friendly little creature seemed quite taken with the sorceress.

Aiden guessed it was close to midnight when they finally heard the sounds of Fairloch's docklands through the fog. The late hour meant there should be few people about, yet the muffled shouts of men could be heard plainly in the distance.

"Soldiers," Aiden whispered to Robert, who nodded in agreement.

"They have the Docklands guarded," the mercenary said in hushed tones to Captain Sherrard.

"We'll make for the northern shore," he replied. "I know a place within the city walls but away from the populated areas. We can proceed on foot from there." Despite the long, tedious journey, Aiden didn't feel tired. The tension of their clandestine approach kept him alert, and with their assault imminent, a sense of anticipation dispelled any fatigue.

They altered course and paddled on through the fog a while longer, with the distinctive sound of waves on the shore growing louder. The waters began to shallow and moments later they struck the sodden turf of the northern side of the bay. Sherrard tossed a rope ladder over the side and once Robert had clambered down, began tossing their bags of equipment to him.

"I was going to suggest you head back out again," Aiden quietly suggested to the captain, "but without any wind I doubt you'd get very far."

"Very astute of you to notice, sir," Sherrard replied dryly. "I can see your time aboard the Redoubtable was not entirely wasted." He reached into a small locker near the tiller and produced a sturdy cutlass and breastplate.

"You're not coming with us," Aiden stated flatly.

"Neither you nor all the horses in Aielund can stop me," Sherrard retorted. "I will not let my future sovereign walk into a situation of dire peril, while I sit about in becalmed seas. My sword arm is still strong, and I will stand with you against tyranny."

"Well said," Robert muttered from below. "Now keep your voices down and get moving." The captain gestured for Aiden to go first, no doubt wishing to be the last to disembark from this ship. Denholm Sherrard was a stickler for tradition. Aiden began to climb down the rope ladder and noticed the cat staring at him.

"What of your First Mate?" he inquired.

"Don't worry, he'll stay with the ship," Sherrard said dismissively as he strapped on his breastplate and made the descent after Aiden, who was slightly off-put by the feline's intense interest.

Sayana used her sharp night vision to keep watch, as the others attached their armour and readied their gear as quietly as possible. Aiden kept looking around nervously, for the sounds of nearby soldiers seemed to be only yards away in the fog. His fears were confirmed moments later when Sayana indicated there was someone approaching.

Aiden froze as he heard multiple footsteps crunching on the ground growing closer by the moment. He recalled one of the scrolls Terinus had given to him, and quickly gestured for everyone to gather around. Aiden unfurled the scroll and whispered the incantation, and they all suddenly vanished.

Moments later, three city watchmen strolled into view, casting their eyes about for any sign of disturbance. Aiden couldn't make out their features in the dim moonlight, but their motions seemed somewhat tense. They passed within a few yards of him and his invisible companions before coming to a halt.

"Don't see nothin' out here mate," one of the guards spoke to the others. "Must've been your mind playin' tricks or somethin'."

"Could have sworn I heard something moving around out here," the second man muttered.

"There's an army coming to lay siege on the city, of course you're twitchy," the third guard offered in reassurance. "It's enough to make anyone nervous. They ain't getting' nothin' past the fleet, though. The bay is all but sealed up. Don't worry, the king'll take care of 'em personally if they breach the gates."

"That's what worries me," the second guard muttered grimly.

"Oy, we'll have none of that talk out 'ere mate," one of the other guards warned. "You know what happens to them what has a problem with His Majesty."

"Yeah, yeah," grumbled the man who had dared to speak his mind. Their brief conversation revealed much of how the city had changed during Aiden's absence, and he wasn't impressed.

Satisfied at last, the three guards returned to the city and once they disappeared from sight, Aiden finally started breathing again. Their invisibility dissipated as he dismissed the incantation, revealing everyone standing with their weapons at the ready.

"That was a one-off," Aiden whispered. "Next time they'll see us for sure."

"Can't you maintain the shroud?" Criosa inquired in equally hushed tones.

"I expanded it to hide the ship, reducing the time it would last exponentially," Aiden explained. "We will have to sneak in the old-fashioned way."

"Front gates," Robert dared to whisper to Sayana as she took the lead, guiding them forward using her night vision, with Pacian close behind her, his weapon drawn and ready to eliminate any problems they might encounter.

The sodden earth underfoot soon gave way to the cobblestone streets of Fairloch, lined with tightly-packed stone houses of those who couldn't afford any better. Moisture dripped from the rusty gutters above and with the salty air continually eating away at the exterior, the place had a craggy, almost cave-like feel.

The southern districts had a reputation for being one step short of a slum, but the docklands weren't much better in places. No lights shone from the windows at this time of night, but there was more to it than that. Not a soul walked the streets who wasn't armed for a fight.

"They're under curfew and ready for trouble," Aiden confided to Robert after they'd avoided another patrol.

"You heard the other guards earlier — they know what's coming," the mercenary whispered back. They pressed on, feeling a sense of urgency Aiden couldn't shake. Fog engulfed the docklands, providing them with excellent cover as they made their way through alleyways and thoroughfares. An abundance of lanterns provided an eerie ambience to the desolate scene, making their progress more difficult at the same time.

When Sayana spotted guards standing watch near a streetlight ahead, Pacian would find a way around them. It was time consuming, but better than risking exposure. Nellise and Robert's heavy armour clinked sharply despite their best efforts, but the men guarding the city wore armour themselves and easily confused the noise as coming from their colleagues, instead of the vanguard of an invasion force. They made slow but steady progress until Sayana signalled for a halt.

"There's a fortification ahead," Sayana explained in a quiet voice when Aiden and Robert came to investigate. "The whole area is lit up and there has to be thirty men keeping watch. I don't see a way around it, at least not with the rest of you in tow."

"We're near the gate to the Mercantile District," Aiden mused. "There's no other way through. Except..."

"The sewers," Pacian finished. "Yeah I thought you'd suggest that sooner or later."

"Better to have shit on your boots than blood," Robert advised. "We can't risk being spotted just yet. We'll have plenty of time to make an impact when we've reached the southern gate. Take us down."

Reluctantly, Sayana backtracked past the surrounding brick houses until they arrived at a grating they'd passed earlier, in the middle of an alleyway. They heaved the metal cover aside as quietly as they could, while the sorceress kept watch. The familiar old scent of the Fairloch aqueducts filled Aiden's nostrils as they climbed down the shaft to the path below. Turgid waters swirled past them as they gained their bearings by Nellise's prayer of light.

The cover was gently lowered back into place thanks to Sayana's telekinetic power, and they set off along the path. Aiden wanted them to continue without the bright light showing anyone within sight where they were, but in the pitch-black conditions, there simply wasn't any choice.

Pacian led them alongside the river, turning right a short while later and then left, leaving Aiden to quietly hope he knew where he was going.

"I wouldn't go that way if I were you," a dry voice spoke from the shadows. Aiden and the others instantly froze in place, weapons at the ready as they tried to spot the source of those words. "But then, I'm not walking around lit up like a festival procession either."

"I know that voice," Captain Sherrard said. "Woulfe, is that you?" A shadowy figure dropped from the ceiling into the light. Sporting a wry grin, Ronan Woulfe stood casually in their ranks, dressed in dark leathers and carrying an assortment of weaponry.

"I never thought I'd see the lot of you again, or walking in shit for that matter," the one-time sailor remarked.

"You've picked a hell of a time to show up," Aiden muttered, lowering his weapon and taking a deep breath, which he instantly regretted.

"There's an army moving on the south gate even now," Ronan responded dryly. "I figured it was the right time to come out of hiding and do a little sabotage. Things have been getting a little crazy around here of late, and a man with my history attracts the wrong sort of attention. Nice to see you all, by the way. Sy."

"Ronan," she nodded cautiously. Aiden recalled their previous dalliance had ended abruptly when the sailor had rejoined the navy.

"Who the hell is this?" Robert growled suspiciously.

"A former member of my crew," Sherrard replied. "As I recall, you had the same difference of opinion concerning recent events as I."

"But I was less vocal about it," Ronan corrected. "I just sort of slipped away and started sabotaging their operation when the opportunity presented itself. Just like now, which is why you're all here, of course."

"You know the sewers better than we do," Pacian said. "Lead us to some place close to the front gate."

"Are you sure you can still trust him?" Robert pressed.

"If I wanted to cause trouble for you, I'd have let you wander into the ambush lying not too far ahead," the sailor remarked. "Half a dozen rough and ready lads, experts in street fighting and traps, ready to hit anyone coming through the aqueducts and signal an alarm. I was trying to figure out a way through them myself, as they've set up shop at a vital junction. It'll take two hours to go around the long way."

"I can verify this story easily enough," Pacian suggested, crooking a finger at the sailor and Sayana while backing out of the light.

"This'll be fun," Ronan suggested, drawing a pair of short swords and following Pacian into the darkness ahead. Sayana vanished from sight, leaving Aiden to assume she was following them.

"So, we just wait here?" Robert asked nobody in particular. Captain Sherrard obliged him with an answer.

"Ronan's skills are more suited to this sort of thing than the rest of us, save for your man Pacian," he said. "Abide here a moment and we may find their talents put to good use." They didn't have to wait long for confirmation, as the sounds of a brief fight broke out from up ahead. It was over as quickly as it began, however, and out of curiosity, Aiden signalled for everyone else to head in.

When Nellise shone her light on the scene, half a dozen unconscious men lay sprawled in awkward positions all over the junction. Pacian and Ronan were busy looking for tripwires on the ground by the light of Sayana's arcane torch, and much to Aiden's surprise, there was no blood to be seen.

"She just stood in the middle of them and threw them around like rag dolls," Ronan exclaimed in mild surprise. "Pace and I never had a chance to sort them out for ourselves."

"Impressive, but don't waste your strength," Aiden advised Sayana, who regarded him with cool eyes. It took Pacian and Ronan a few minutes to secure the area, during which time they discovered over a dozen traps which would have fired crossbows, dispensed poisonous gas and made one hell of a racket in doing so.

"Alright, the way is clear and the alarm hasn't gone off," Pacian declared once they finished their task. "Keep moving."

"This way," Ronan whispered, darting off down the corridor to stay at the edge of their lights. They travelled through the aqueduct system for some time, being careful to dismiss their lights when passing underneath a sewer grate. The distinctive sounds of activity kept Aiden and the others on their toes, a stark reminder of what they faced — the entire remaining Aielish military.

Presently, Ronan came to a stop below a grate. Faint moonlight trickled in from above, and the sound of men and equipment moving nearby could be heard.

"Slums," Ronan whispered, pointing up. "A few hundred yards from the gates — anything closer would be in amongst them I reckon."

"Good enough," Robert replied. "Sy, go take a look around." Sayana nodded and levitated up to the grate, which she opened silently with a gesture. She vanished from sight, leaving the rest of them to wait alongside the noisome waters for signs of her return. Aiden checked his equipment, making sure he had everything ready when it came time to act.

The grating above moved of its own volition, setting everyone on edge, but Sayana appeared out of thin air as she descended to them.

"There is a massive body of men and defences above," she explained quickly. "Great siege engines are lined up as far as I could see, ready to repel any assault."

"They're ready for this," Criosa muttered. "I don't know whether it is through excellent scouting, spies or arcane means, but they know of Sir Gabriel's imminent arrival and are prepared to repel the army."

"Not if their pretty engines topple over in flames," Ronan remarked laconically. "This is what I came equipped for. You probably want to go and take on the king, right? Go ahead while I make things interesting around here."

"You can't do it all by yourself," Sayana scolded him. "I will help. I'd wager wooden siege engines burn very well, and I can contribute to the diversion Robert wants."

"Count me in," Pacian added. "They'll never know what hit 'em."

"Alright," Robert agreed, "while you're doing that, we'll continue north and take Criosa and Aiden to the castle. You know it better than anyone, Highness, and Aiden is the only one who can figure out how to make that staff work."

"Head along that passage," Ronan advised Robert, pointing to one of the paths leading from their location. "The third grate you pass will take you up into the mercantile district. I can't guarantee you won't run into some more ambushes if you stay down here, so you might want to go topside. Also, it's not very heroic to free the people from tyranny while you stink like the sewers."

"I like the way you think," Nellise murmured.

"Watch yourselves up there," Captain Sherrard warned as he offered his hand to Ronan. "If you are caught, we may not be able to assist."

"That's why we'll get Sayana to do most of the dangerous work," the sailor drawled as he shook the captain's hand. "I'm going to stay in the shadows and watch people try to figure out why their gear is spontaneously exploding."

Sayana gave him a shove for good measure, and then kissed Robert on the lips before she began levitating up to the grate once more.

"Move," Robert grated, leading the rest of them along the path Ronan had suggested. They moved briskly along the aqueducts, cautious of trouble ahead but at the mercy of fate. Without Sayana to lead them, they had to rely on their lights to show the way, giving any ambushers an easy target. By the time they reached the third grate, Aiden had seen more than enough of the aqueducts, and eagerly climbed the ladder to the surface.

They emerged onto the tightly packed streets of Fairloch, not far from the main road. The quality of the housing seemed to indicate they were in the more affluent area of the city, as Ronan had suggested. Although their remaining group were lacking in terms of stealth, they did what they could to avoid being too obvious in their movements. Criosa took the lead and kept close to the sides of buildings, peeking around corners before signally for the others to catch up.

In this fashion, they gradually worked their way through the city, but to Aiden's surprise there were few guards to avoid. All of their defences seemed to be focused on the south and west of the city, and it was safe to assume the northern and eastern edges were being watched, despite the remoteness of those approaches.

When the sounds of thunderous explosions suddenly erupted from the south, it was time to throw caution to the wind and run. They kept to the back streets as much as possible, in case reinforcements were sent from the castle. This proved to be a prudent course, as the sounds of massed soldiers hurrying through the streets could be heard, along with a more ominous sound.

Aiden came to a halt and peered along a cluttered alleyway, a feeling of dread welling up within as the thundering footsteps grew louder. He could see soldiers rushing past at the other end of the alley, and then the familiar looming shape of the Ironlord stormed past. Aiden only glimpsed it for a moment, but his heart began to race and the images of his last encounter assailed his mind once more. He felt his hand being squeezed, and looked down to see Criosa grasping it in her own.

"We can do this," she whispered to him. "Come, the diversion has worked and father is distracted. We need to break through to the castle before he returns." Aiden nodded as he regained control and his breathing returned to normal. As they hurried on towards the castle, she never once let go.

They threaded their way through the cluttered backstreets of the city, drawing inexorably closer to their goal. More detonations could be heard rumbling up from the south, leading Aiden to believe Sayana was causing merry havoc amongst the castle's defenders.

Although it was impossible to see the castle itself through the tall, narrow buildings and the fog, Criosa knew her city well and guided them without fault in the right direction. Along the way, however, Nellise began to slow down until she stopped completely.

"Is there something wrong, my lady?" Sherrard asked with genuine concern.

"I just had the distinct impression of being watched," she whispered urgently. "Myself specifically. Our presence may have been discovered."

"Discovered by whom?" Criosa asked intently. Nellise's gaze wandered for a long moment as she concentrated elsewhere.

"One of the Hierarchy," she finally whispered. "They are waiting for us nearby."

"How can you know this?" Sherrard inquired curiously.

"We are all connected, linked through our faith," Nellise explained quickly. "We will not be able to gain access to the castle before dealing with them."

"They could have told the king, also," Robert warned. He might be stomping his way back here right now."

"Then we have no time to waste," Nellise replied resolutely. Without another word, they continued onward until they came to the end of the alleyways, across the street from the Fair Maiden Inn, just out of sight of the castle itself. Faint candlelight emerged from the windows on the upper floor, indicating the distant explosions had not gone unnoticed by the population. Criosa peered around the corner cautiously, checking the signs of life. She suddenly pulled her head back in and pressed her back against the wall.

"A dozen armoured people are standing in the middle of the road leading to the castle," she reported breathlessly, "and they were looking right at me."

"I would greatly prefer to avoid wasting time on a fight with some wayward priests," Robert muttered. "Is there any way around them?"

"What about the underground passage we used a couple of years ago?" Aiden suggested.

"Father sealed it up," Criosa explained with a shake of her head. "In his growing paranoia, he went over the castle with a fine-toothed comb, looking for any way spies could get inside. The front entrance really is the only way to get in, now."

"I wouldn't use it anyway, as I need to remove these people from power," Nellise murmured.

"What happens when two clerics fight one another?" Aiden asked. "Whose prayers does Kylaris listen to?"

"I have no idea," Nellise murmured as she hefted her crossbow, "but I cannot let them continue manipulating the Church to support the king. They must pay for their indiscretions. I have my task, just as you have yours. Robert, Sir Denholm and I will keep them busy. Criosa, when I have them distracted, get Aiden into the castle unseen. Find the staff and be ready for the return of your father.

"You two, wait here for a moment, and just be aware, I won't be saving a lot of my strength for healing, so try not to be mortally wounded." She whispered a prayer, and then stepped into the street, in full view of the four who stood there waiting.

"Ah, our dear Nellise has returned at last," the lead cleric addressed her in a smooth, melodic woman's voice. "We've been waiting patiently for you, child."

"Archon Celeste of Culdeny," Aiden whispered to the others in disbelief.

"Greetings, Prelates, and you in particular Mother," Nellise replied evenly. "I see your path of unquestioning obedience has led you into bad company."

"Unlike you, our dedication to the Codex is absolute," Celeste answered scornfully. "You did not take my years of lessons to heart. I blame myself, really. Allowing you to go off to Bracksford before you were ready to deal with the world. All you have experienced, all of your pain can be traced back to that decision. Were it not for my lack of judgement, you could have been standing here beside me, favoured of God, in service to the king and to humanity."

"If it is your intention to delay me until the return of King Seamus, know that I am willing to dispense with the false pleasantries and deal with you immediately," Nellise informed them.

"The king knows nothing of your arrival," a man's voice intoned. He too sounded familiar to Aiden, but he couldn't connect a name. "This is an internal matter for the Church, and in any case, His Majesty is busy springing his elaborate trap on the forces attempting to invade the city."

"Inquisitor Price, how lovely to see you again," Nellise said dryly. "I had expected one of you to be the new Archieros, but since I do not see your brother Ernest here, I can only assume he has taken on the terrible burden of Keeper of the Faith." Aiden recalled the man from his brief encounter at the Battle of Fort Highmarch — he was the one responsible for putting Sayana and Pacian behind bars. As for his brother, he must be referring to the bureaucratic priest Aiden had met several times on visits to Fairloch's cathedral in the past.

"My brother performs his duty admirably, which you shall not live to see for yourself," the inquisitor growled, accompanied by the sounds of weapons being drawn from their sheaths.

"Does it not concern you, even for one moment that you are threatening to face one who has directly touched a divine presence? Have you not considered the possible repercussions of attempting to use the favour of Kylaris to harm me?"

"Come now, Nellise, we all know the stories of your 'transcendent experience' are mere fabrications," Celeste scoffed. "They are more likely the result of you breaking a priceless holy relic and attempting to cover for your error. You seem to think your golden eyes and honeyed words allow you to sway simpler minds into believing such lies. I studied you intensively as you were growing up, and there has never been anything particularly unusual about you, my dear, aside from your gifted appearance. We are not so easily fooled, and will not be intimidated by your blasphemy."

"Well, I'm just one person against the four of you," Nellise remarked simply. "If you're right, you should have no trouble defeating me. If you're wrong, however..." She lowered her weapon and stood there, awaiting their assault with a serene look on her face.

"Nellise, what are you doing?" Criosa whispered harshly.

"She is testing her faith," Captain Sherrard explained under his breath, realising what the cleric was risking with this display.

"Enough words," Inquisitor Price barked, raising a hand and whispering a prayer. Robert moved to join her, but Aiden held him back with one hand to see the result. A few moments passed, and Nellise looked around her as if expecting something to happen. When it became apparent the inquisitor's prayer had no effect, the other priests also began chanting.

"Well isn't this remarkable," Nellise murmured when they too had no effect upon her. "It would seem God is stepping aside so that we might resolve our differences." She lifted her crossbow in one swift movement, took aim, and loosed a bolt straight through the chain shirt of one of the other priests. He fell back onto the ground with blood shooting from his chest.

The others gaped at their brother of the cloth in shock, before Nellise loosed the second bolt, skewering Celeste through her breastplate where it met her shoulder.

"Go, now," the mercenary growled as he shoved Aiden aside and stormed into the fight. Captain Sherrard accompanied him as they met the rush of the remaining clerics.

Another explosion shook the ground, this time much louder than before. It distracted the combatants only a little, so focused were they on the struggle at hand, but Aiden knew what was happening. They had lost track of time on their journey through the city, and failed to notice the grey light of dawn breaking over the rooftops of Fairloch.

"Those were cannons," Aiden breathed to Criosa. "The attack on the city has begun."

"This is the only chance we're going to get," she cried, grabbing Aiden by the hand as she spoke her incantation of invisibility once more. The two of them winked out of sight, but Criosa's firm grasp guided him out of the alleyway and down the main road. They passed right by the combatants, and Aiden was struck at the sheer brutality on display by the formerly cloistered men and women.

Robert bashed the inquisitor with his shield, then cracked him on the helmet with the hilt of his elf-crafted blade. Price didn't take this lightly, for while his prayers were no longer being answered, his stubborn devotion to his ideals spurred him on to greater heights.

Recovering from the assault, he whirled around and extended his hammer, knocking aside the mercenary's shield and striking him directly on the breastplate and driving him to the ground. Nellise had been forced to drop her crossbow and take up her sword, clashing against her former brothers and sisters alongside Robert and the captain.

Criosa kept pulling Aiden past the fight, for they had their own task ahead of them. Sounds of men running could be heard just ahead, and a heartbeat later a dozen heavily armed guards emerged from the fog, heading straight for the diversionary fight in the main street. Criosa pulled Aiden to one side as they rushed past, drawing weapons as they bore down on the trio. The distraction was just what Aiden and Criosa needed, but he hesitated to leave them to what would most likely be their deaths.

"We can't help them," Criosa hissed when he began to resist her pull. "They knew what they were doing when they stepped out into the street. We cannot fail or their sacrifice will be for nothing."

Aiden allowed himself to be dragged along by Criosa as the sounds of the fighting escalated, both here and at the gates to the city. Hoping against hope this plan would work, the two of them charged into the open gates of the castle as the thunderous boom of cannons echoed across the landscape.

Chapter Twenty-Two

They continued their mad dash through the castle as the guards within emptied into the streets. Aiden shifted his vision until he could discern Criosa's silhouette against the blue-grey of the castle's walls. She still clasped his hand tightly, but now he could guess which way she was going to drag him as they avoided the guards rushing past.

Aiden tried to ignore just how many heavily armed soldiers were heading outside. Robert, Nellise and Denholm stood no chance against such numbers, but he couldn't think about that now. If he and Criosa couldn't find the staff, they were all doomed anyway.

Once the traffic had died down and she was certain they were alone, Criosa guided them through to the throne room and dismissed the incantation. Aiden shook his head to clear his sight, and was astonished by what he saw. The room had always been modestly decorated, mirroring the practical, almost humble personality of its monarch.

Now, lavish drapes of rare silk garishly adorned the walls in a cacophony of mismatched colour. The serviceable iron and rosewood throne had been replaced with one of solid gold, inlaid with precious gems. Paintings depicting the king in triumphant and heroic poses hung in places of conspicuous glory.

"I'm speechless," Criosa whispered, staring at the display of her father's failing sanity.

"Let's focus on the task at hand," Aiden advised grimly. "Do you know of any secret rooms or compartments here or someplace else in the castle?"

"There's one way to find out," she replied, heading for the throne itself. "He will keep it close, but hidden from view. And if Terinus doesn't know where it is, nobody aside from father is likely to either."

They quickly but thoroughly searched the throne for hidden catches, and then moved to the walls. Aiden ran his fingers along the cracks between each stone brick, and even tried shifting his vision against to reveal anything hidden with magic. It would have been too easy, though, for if it was as simple as invisibility, Terinus or some other wizard probably would have found it by now.

"No luck," Aiden hissed in frustration.

"Bedroom," Criosa suggested, rushing across the chamber towards the king's personal chambers. The dull booming of the distant battle could be faintly heard, even in the castle, serving as a stark reminder of their dire situation. Aiden quickly joined the princess in her father's bedroom, and saw it was just as garishly decorated as the throne room.

The bedroom, as it happened, was occupied. Seated on a plush chair near the fireplace was a withered old man in expensive, opulent clothes which seemed far too large for his frame. His head was slumped against his chest and he appeared to be asleep. Although he could barely believe it, Aiden recognised him as Duke Charles Montague, whom he had not seen since the almost-execution.

"Uncle Charlie?" Criosa breathed as she spotted him. The old man stirred from his slumber and looked up with bleary, dark-rimmed eyes.

"Criosa? Is that you my dear?" he croaked.

"Yes, it's me," she gushed, rushing to his side to embrace him. "I've been so worried about you."

"Never mind me, child, your father has been looking everywhere for you," the old duke mumbled. "He has been beside himself with grief when you were taken from us, but now you've returned, he will be overjoyed."

"Uncle, that's... not what happened," Criosa said, faltering as she realised he wasn't himself.

"How is your mother, by the way?" Charles asked vaguely. "I haven't seen her in some time."

"She's fine," the princess answered after a moment, smoothing down her leather skirt as she stood up. Aiden recalled Criosa's mother had died long ago, and he felt melancholy at the failing of the old duke's mind. "I'll convey your regards when next I see her," Criosa whispered. "Get some more rest, Uncle. You're exhausted."

"Good girl," Charles muttered. "My how you've grown..." his voice trailed off as his head bobbed down to his chest once more. Within moments, he was snoring softly. Criosa wiped a tear from her cheek and turned away from the old man.

"He'll be fine, once we've brought my father to account," she informed Aiden with unwavering optimism.

Once more they set about searching every nook and cranny they could find, and even shoved the massive rosewood desk away from the wall so they could check behind it. The Duke remained asleep even with all their fidgeting, but it paid off when they finally found a small door hidden just behind the desk. It was locked, but she had come prepared to deal with such obstacles.

"Platinum tumblers and vythiric braces," Criosa breathed. "This may be the most expensive lock I have ever seen. Keep watch while I figure it out." Fishing out her lock picks, she went to work while Aiden moved to watch for any movement outside the door. He could hear her swear under her breath more than once, confirming her suspicions of the mechanism's quality.

When Aiden heard footsteps passing through the throne room, it became evident the castle hadn't been completely abandoned. He pushed the door closed but for a small crack, and peered through it. He was beyond fear at this point — his heart beat strong and steady as he watched one of the king's personal guards stroll through the throne room, thinking only of ways to kill the man should he decide to check the bedroom. Still, Aiden breathed a faint sigh of relief when the guard passed them by.

"Got it!" Criosa whispered harshly. Aiden moved back over to see what she had discovered, and as she opened the door they could see only a number of parchments and some precious heirlooms within. The small compartment wasn't even large enough to fit a staff, and Aiden cursed bitterly at their wasted efforts.

"Blasted thing!" Criosa hissed, stepping away from the wall and running her fingers through her blond hair. "We just have to keep looking elsewhere, that's all. What I wouldn't give for a blood hound to sniff the bloody thing out."

Aiden didn't pay much attention to what she said, until a moment later when her words finally sank in. The staff, like the Lexicon, was a relic of the ancient people who had created them. They used the same techniques, and all of their artifacts had one thing in common — they all worked from the same source of power.

During their previous discussions, Aiden had learned from Salinder, and to some extent Spartan, that relics such as these gave off a distinct odour that only dragons could detect. The Ironlord itself stank of this aroma, so much that it could be detected many miles away. Grasping at the slenderest thread of hope, Aiden rubbed his scaled arm in thought and dared to think it might just work.

He took a deep, long sniff of the room, but could only discern the regular, everyday sorts of smells. Criosa gave him an odd look, unsure what he was attempting to do.

"This is hardly the time to make fun of my suggestions," she remarked crossly. Aiden held up one finger to suggest silence on her part, and took another sniff, but this time, attempted to alter his sense of smell in the same way he would alter his vision.

It was a difficult concept to wrap his brain around, but when he applied his will to the task, something changed. He took another breath and this time, all of the smells in the room had been magnified, but more importantly, a faint, acrid smell could be detected underneath it all.

Aiden turned about, trying to discern the source of that faint aroma, and figured it was coming from the door. Checking to make sure nobody was on the other side, he stepped back into the throne room and found the scent to be stronger. He began moving around the room, sniffing here and there with each step, and Criosa following along behind him, bewildered at his behaviour.

"We've already searched the throne room," she complained as he moved closer to grandiose chair. "What on earth are you doing? We don't have time for this!"

Ignoring her, Aiden narrowed down the area to the chair itself. He took a strong whiff and found the odour to be so pungent he screwed up his nose and recoiled in disgust.

"It's here," he growled in a voice that wasn't entirely human, giving the ostentatious throne a baleful look. Aiden was able to narrow it down a little more and began focusing his search on the back. Given the shape of the item in question, there was only one place it could be. "Help me look for a latch or something — the staff has to be in one of these posts. Don't ask how I know, just do it."

Criosa complied, though her face spoke more than words ever could. Still, she went over the throne once more, looking for something they'd missed on the first pass. Their persistence paid off when Aiden found a small nodule amongst a group of them, sculpted in gold and impossible to discern through sight alone.

When he pressed it inwards, the cap on top of one of the back pillars popped open, revealing a hollow tube. Excited and relieved, Aiden peered inside and let out a hiss of triumph as he reached in and retrieved the relic staff.

"We've got him now," he growled, feeling a surge of confidence race through him. Doubt was replaced by fury at the thought they could finally bring an end to all of this madness.

"How did you do that?" Criosa whispered suspiciously.

"I'll tell you about it later," Aiden replied absently as he took out the Lexicon and activated it with a stroke of one finger. "We have friends to save." The familiar ephemeral pages of arcane knowledge appeared above the box and Aiden quickly began flipping through them.

"You're right, we don't have—" Criosa began to reply, but was interrupted from a shout of alarm from one of the castle guards who stood at a side entrance to the throne room.

"Run!" Aiden shouted, stowing the Lexicon away again as he and Criosa made a dash for another doorway. The guard, clad in heavy armour, gave chase but wouldn't be able to catch them. The sounds of booted feet running throughout the castle could be heard, indicating the rest of them had been alerted to the presence of intruders.

Criosa took the lead and zigzagged through the corridors of power, a place she knew like the back of her hand. Every time a guard appeared ahead of them, they would divert down another passage. Aiden was lost, but had enough faith in the princess to get them clear of the castle's confines. There was one flaw in her plan that occurred to him — the main entrance was the only way out, and it was sure to be guarded.

They burst into a disused storage room when they were out of sight of their pursuers, and while Criosa closed the door, Aiden glanced around and locked eyes with a familiar young woman with dark hair, in the middle of stuffing her possessions into a sack — Kara. The look of surprise on her face was beyond description, but Aiden didn't wait to savour it.

"Traitor," he muttered and instinctively raised his hand before Kara could speak. A bolt of lightning shot forth and struck the spy dead-on. She fell to the floor, twitching and blackened from the discharge. Aiden moved closer and plunged his sword into Kara's chest.

"I did it... for Aielund," she stammered through lips she could barely control.

"You chose the wrong side, my friend," Aiden lamented quietly blood replaced the words coming out of her mouth. Criosa said nothing, but her expression was one of doubt as Aiden returned to the door.

"How far to the entrance from here?" he asked.

"It's down the corridor to the left," she whispered. "No more than fifty yards."

"We make a break for it, and if anything gets in our way, I'm going to put some of these scrolls to good use," Aiden said, taking out one parchment in particular which would ensure their escape.

"Perhaps I should take those, given your past record?" Criosa suggested

"Not this time," Aiden answered hastily, and then peered out through the crack in the door. With no visible signs of pursuit, they crept out into the hallway.

They reached another door and when Criosa opened it, Aiden could see the large foyer, a familiar sight and very close to the entrance itself. Unfortunately, it was populated with nearly a dozen elite castle guards, watching intently for signs of their arrival. Another distant explosion echoed through the city, reminding them of the urgency of their mission. They could not wait.

"Enough running," Aiden growled as he unfurled a scroll and threw open the door. He had spent several hours back at Auchlevie studying the incantations scrawled upon the ancient parchments, and was confident he could recite the archaic language without fault.

Every guard turned at his sudden appeared at the doorway, but Aiden was already halfway through the incantation before they could act. As the parchment crumbled to ash in his hands, a surge of immense power went through his body. He pointed to a location in their midst and watched in morbid fascination as a ball of pure darkness appeared there.

Aiden was nearly pulled from his feet as everything in the immediate vicinity of the ball was drawn towards it with incredible force. Curtains and tapestries were pulled from walls and drawn into the sphere, and the effect upon the soldiers was even greater.

Weighed down by their heavy armour, the soldiers cried out in terror as they were sucked into the sphere of darkness and crushed by their own weight into nothingness. The sphere vanished within moments of appearing, almost as if it had never been there, but for the devastation it had wreaked upon the room.

Virtually nothing was left standing, and all that remained of the dozen soldiers was a tiny ball of metal in the centre of the room. Aiden breathed in awe at the power he had unleashed, but he quickly snapped out of it and gestured for Criosa to follow him through the room.

They ran through the entrance and out onto the drawbridge, noticing the sky had lightened considerably while they had been inside. While the fog had thinned a little, it was still enough to prevent them seeing far down the road. The clamour of fighting rang out through the streets, but just below that noise was something else, a strange and haunting sound like nothing Aiden had heard only once before.

As the two of them ran down the street, a flicker of fire could be seen illuminating the fog, and the cry of men burning could be heard. Aiden and Criosa had to step carefully to avoid the bodies lying on the ground, many of them bearing terrible cuts and severed limbs, but more than a few appeared to have been burned.

They burst through the fog to the sight of Spartan standing amidst a crowd, searing the enemy with scorching flames and slicing them up with his long claws.

On his back sat the tiny figure of an old friend, the raelani druid Margaret Fairweather. Although she appeared to be clutching on to the dragon's neck for dear life, she also summoned lightning from the sky to blast the countless number of soldiers.

Fighting alongside the dragon was Captain Sherrard, Nellise and Robert Black. Robert was a fearsome sight to behold, cutting a swath of destruction through their enemies with his elf-crafted vythiric blade and protecting Nellise and himself from harm with his indestructible shield.

The captain had acquired a shield of his own, and while not as masterful with the blade as Robert, he held his flank against the tide. Nellise, seemingly in some sort of ecstatic trance, channelled her divine might to create a wall of intense, radiant light to hold back enemies on their other flank. Whenever someone tried to move through it, they were burned and blinded from the brilliance.

"How are we going to break through?" Criosa shouted over the din. Aiden took in the scene, noting the sheer number of soldiers attempting to break through Nellise's defence. On the walls of the buildings lining the street, archers began to shoot arrows into the fray. Most of them were destroyed when they impacted the wall of light, but one or two went through to strike Nellise directly.

"Deal with those archers while I thin their ranks," Aiden instructed, taking out another scroll. Criosa had lost her crossbow some time ago, but found an undamaged longbow and a quiver of arrows lying on the ground amongst the bodies. Like most people in Aielund, she had been well-trained in its use and quickly set about sending arrow after arrow arcing through the sky.

Aiden focused his attention on the task before him. He read through the incantation and as the scroll crumbled, the flagstones in the streets beneath the enemy began to split apart. Piping-hot steam erupted from the gaps, and moments later the entire pavement erupted in a torrent of flame and molten rock.

The fissure widened, and men began to fall through the gap into the cauldron of arcane fire below. Those on the surface were either pummelled with rock or scalded by steam, but faced with an onslaught of powerful magic from two fronts, their sergeants called for a retreat and pulled back to the west. Aiden released his concentration and the active fissure died down again, releasing only a thin wafting of smoke from the superheated rock below.

Robert and Sir Denholm leaned on their weapons while they caught their breath, and Nellise released whatever aid she had given them, wilting visibly as she did so. The captain was quick to catch her before she fell.

"Are you all right, my lady?" he asked as she Aiden and Criosa hurried over to join them.

"I'll be fine, thank you sir," Nellise assured him. "Never in my entire life have I concentrated so hard for so long."

"There sure were a lot of 'em," Robert grunted between breaths. He winced as he attempted to stand upright. His armour was spattered with blood, and more than a little of that was probably his own. He noticed the staff in Aiden's hand. "You got it? Brilliant. Figured out how to use it yet?"

"I haven't had time, what with being in the middle of a warzone and all," Aiden drawled. "Spartan, it's nice of you to show up. And I see you brought along a pet."

"This is the thanks I get for coming?" Maggie protested. "Nice to see you too, Aiden."

We have worked well together during the last few months, Spartan explained with his smooth mind-voice. I thought she would prove valuable.

"You're both more welcome than I am capable of expressing right now," Aiden assured them. "I had better figure out this staff."

"Yes, get on it," Robert growled. "I have a feeling they were waiting for His Majesty to show up." No sooner had Robert stopped speaking when a blast of fire erupted further along the street. A group of enemy soldiers screamed and fell down in flames, while the familiar shapes of Sayana, Pacian and Ronan rushed around the corner, heading straight for Aiden and the others at top speed.

Criosa waved them over, but her movement faltered as the sound of distinctive, heavy steps could be heard approaching. A large house on the corner practically exploded as the Ironlord burst through it, taking a shortcut in an attempt to catch up with them. Seamus wasn't close enough to swing his massive sword at them, but he ominously raised his arm instead. It began to shine with power and the sound of a thousand boiling kettles tore through the air as the blast of energy shot forth.

Sayana had anticipated this, having been looking over her shoulder at the time. She grabbed on to Ronan and winked out of sight just as the beam shot through the space where they had been running. Pacian, who hadn't been the target, threw himself against the nearby wall. The blast scorched the flagstones but missed anything important by a wide margin.

Pacian wheeled around and brought his scythe down in a vicious stroke in a bold effort to sever the king's right arm, but even his vythiric blade was unable to do more than scratch the surface. The giant metal fist swung at him, but Pacian managed to dive underneath the blow which shattered the front wall of a house instead.

"By God," Captain Sherrard breathed, "I heard stories of this damnable thing but my imagination has been found wanting."

Sayana and Ronan reappeared next to Criosa, their clothes a little torn in places but with no obvious injuries. Aiden barely noticed, however, for his eyes were locked on the approaching behemoth from his nightmares. Seamus ignored Pacian and continued to advance towards the others, and when the king fully emerged from the fog and smoke, a remarkable thing happened.

He hesitated.

Aiden felt Criosa's hand gasp on to his, but his fear was subsiding on its own as a realisation came to light — the king was afraid of him. Aiden held the staff of the ancients in one hand, and although he didn't yet know how to use it, Seamus didn't know that. They exchanged an empty glare, Aiden's blue eyes staring directly into the glowing red eyes of the construct armour, and then he raised the staff above his head.

The Ironlord actually took a step backwards. Seamus wasn't as confident as he had been, and they could use this to their advantage.

"Ow!" Sayana suddenly cried as she grasped the back of her neck.

"What is it?" Aiden asked out of concern.

"I think he just tried to take control of me," she mused, rubbing her neck with one hand. "It felt like something sharp was shoved into my spine, but it stopped below my head."

"At least you know Terinus wasn't lying," Robert remarked. "This gives us a bit of an advantage." This prospect lasted mere moments, however, when dozens of heavily armed soldiers strode into view behind their king.

"Lord Alwyn," the voice of King Seamus bellowed, amplified and changed into something deep and terrible by the ancient contraption. "Eliminate those traitors and retrieve that staff."

"Their sorcery makes them formidable foes, Majesty," the obsequious lord pointed out, making sure to keep his armoured king between himself and Aiden's companions. When they had last met, he had been standing by the king's side at Aiden's execution.

The thin lord had adorned himself in the finest plate armour money could buy, as were most of his men, but this did nothing to bolster their confidence. "I do not relish the prospect of facing a dragon, even a small one. Also, our forces defending the southern gate request your assistance. They are in danger of being overwhelmed and the walls are crumbling under the barrage of our enemy's siege weaponry."

"Secure the staff from these people and I shall deal with everything," the king growled. "The remnants of the University's wizards can hold the south for a while longer, and His Eminence will assist you in dealing with their sorcerers."

"And what of your daughter?" Alwyn inquired.

"Take her alive, I have plans for her."

"Very well, My Liege," Alwyn nodded as he drew his fine arming sword. "Sergeant, please eliminate Mister Wainwright and his associates, but be sure to take Princess Criosa alive."

"How are you two ladies faring?" Robert tiredly asked Sayana and Nellise as the opposing force began marching in their direction. "Feel up to taking on a few dozen well-armed men?"

"It's not like we have a choice," Nellise pointed out. "It seems the new Archieros is coming to challenge us, too. This is beginning to look a little one-sided."

"Aren't we expecting reinforcements?" Pacian asked.

"Only if Gabe can break through the gates," Robert answered, "and even then, Seamus might be keeping his distance from the staff, but he'll be more than capable of flattening the entire army by himself. We need to break through their lines and assault him directly."

"I need a minute or two of study to figure out how to disable him," Aiden reminded Robert. "Can you all keep them busy for a little while longer?"

You will have your two minutes, but more than that we cannot guarantee, Spartan warned.

"Let's see if we can even the odds a little," the mercenary suggested. "Fall back into the castle — they'll only have one avenue of approach. Go!" They turned and hurried back across the drawbridge while Spartan and Maggie took to the skies. Their apparent retreat sent up a roar from the Aielish soldiers, who charged along the road after them.

"Can we close the drawbridge or the doors?" Sayana called over the din.

"No time," Robert bellowed, standing in the middle of the open doorway as three dozen heavily armed men bore down on them. Nellise moved to his side and drew her sword. She spoke a quick prayer, bathing the plain weapon with a subtle white light and made sure her helmet was securely in place.

Criosa stood back and began shooting arrows into the approaching horde, while Pacian and Ronan hid to either side of the door, clearly planning an unpleasant surprise for whoever came through first. Sayana raised her arms and sent a line of raging flames spreading across the approach. Aiden planned to aid them were he could, but his main focus was on the Lexicon and the staff in his hands.

Focusing on the obscure language while a pitched battle was taking place only yards away was hardly the best way to study, but he wasn't offered much choice in the matter. Lightning and fire lashed the drawbridge as Spartan flew overhead, making quick dashes to avoid the archers lining up to take shots at him. Even then, Robert, Nellise and Captain Sherrard were struggling to hold the line against the wave of attackers, and while Pacian's deadly skill with his battle staff slowed down their approach on the right flank, the left remained open.

Aiden withdrew a wand from his robe and pointed it at the men pushing through the left flank. With a spoken word of command, flashing bolts of pure energy shot forth and slammed into the group. Staggered from the assault but still in the fight, the warriors pressed the attack once more, so Aiden kept speaking the command word for the wand over and over again, sending a torrent of magical energies at the front line.

Broken bodies lay strewn over the floor by the time the wand stopped responding, smoke rising from its blackened length as Aiden tossed it aside.

"You do your job, Aiden, and I'll do mine," Robert roared as he kept up the fight.

"You're welcome," Aiden muttered as he turned his focus to the Lexicon once more. Almost immediately, the correct staff almost jumped out of the page at him. A surge of excitement shot through his veins as he turned to the correct page and began scanning through the glyphs presented there.

An explosion of fire almost caught Aiden's attention until he realised Sayana was thinning their ranks some more. Taking up the staff in one hand, he began connecting the various runes to their functions. The ring of metal on metal continued as he concentrated fiercely on the ancient language before him, trying not to think about his countrymen falling in battle on the whims of a madman.

Unable to keep his mind locked on the task, Aiden glanced up to see Robert duelling Lord Alwyn. It should have been an easy contest for the experienced mercenary, but fatigue was slowing his reflexes to the point he was barely holding his own against the Aielish lord. Sherrard had already fallen back to Criosa's position, clutching his side as blood flowed freely from a terrible wound, and Ronan soon joined him to make better use of his short bow.

Feeling annoyed the betrayal of the cold and calculating lord, Aiden saw the opportunity for some personal revenge. He lifted his hand and unleashed a bolt of lightning which arced through Alwyn's suit as if it were nothing. The lord staggered to his knees as he cried out in pain, giving Robert the opportunity for a decisive strike. Surprisingly, it didn't come, for the mercenary was barely able to stand from the weight of his own armour.

Testing a theory, Aiden spoke the command word for the storm of bolts he had incanted from the wand just before, and to his satisfaction, half a dozen darts of pure energy flashed through the air and finished off Alwyn while Robert caught his breath.

From amongst the faltering soldiers on the front line came a robed figure wearing a golden breastplate and carrying a mighty sledgehammer. Aiden thought to warn Robert but his tired mind reacted too slowly as the massive weapon swung through the air and impacted directly with the mercenary, sending him sprawling onto the ground with his face echoing the pain he felt in his body.

Aiden recognised the priest Ernest Price, whom he had met on several occasions before. He was now adorned in the raiment's of the Church of Aielund's highest office and his round face and kind eyes stood in stark contrast to the carnage around him. He raised his sledgehammer with the intention of finishing Robert off, but was struck by Nellise's blade.

The weapon seemed to impact an invisible obstacle, which simply showered the area with sparks. The two stood squaring off against each other, while Pacian moved through the shadows around the edge, attempting to find the ideal location to strike from behind. Price casually glanced at him and spoke a single word — "sleep", and Pacian suddenly collapsed to the ground.

Nellise began whispering a prayer, looking at Pacian in a clear attempt to rouse him from his artificial sleep, but the Archieros simply looked at her and smiled in condescension.

"Your faith appears to be lacking, child," he spoke with smooth words. "I cannot affect you directly, of course, for Kylaris wants you to be redeemed, not destroyed. I look forward to reeducating you in the proper use of divine power." Sayana answered for her, taking a moment from her solitary defence of the front line to bath him in fire. When the flames subsided, Price seemed unperturbed and completely unharmed.

He whispered a prayer and wreaths of light surrounded Sayana, growing tighter until she was completely bound and unable to move, let alone speak.

"You little prick," Ronan growled as he sent arrow after arrow flying at the priest, none of which seemed to penetrate whatever protections he carried.

"He is too well protected," Nellise called as Criosa also shot arrows, which simply bounced off just like the others. "We will keep him busy while you tackle the king!"

"I have a better idea," Aiden shouted back, raising the staff and tracing a line of glyphs with one finger. A pulse of faint energy erupted from the staff in all directions, passing through all of them equally. All of the magical power they had called upon was instantly dismissed, including Price's protections and more importantly, Sayana's bindings.

The instant she was free, the sorceress raised her hands and sent a bolt of crackling green energy at the man. He was engulfed and had only a fraction of a moment to let out a scream before his entire body was evaporated. Only a pair of charred boots remained, standing morbidly where the man had been a few heartbeats before.

Faced with such power, the few remaining enemy soldiers hesitated in their approach. The archers out on the drawbridge were focused solely upon them which seemed to indicate Spartan had been forced to retreat, but when Aiden thought they had them beaten the wall just behind him exploded and sent him skidding across the floor. Dazed from the impact, he looked back and saw the Ironlord towering over him. Seamus had used his troops as a diversion so he could find another way at them.

The armoured king bent down and wrench the relic staff from Aiden in his metal hands and snapped it in two, sending out a minor explosion of fire and lightning as the power within was released.

"Now your hope is crushed and my victory assured," Seamus intoned with barely concealed excitement as Aiden stared up at his nemesis in horror.

Chapter Twenty-Three

"Father, please," Criosa implored, "get out of that damnable thing. It has warped your mind and spirit. Let us help you!"

"You do not seem to understand," Seamus replied in his deep, altered voice. "We need never fear a war again, and now I have lured our enemies within my grasp, I can end the threat and annex Tulsone for our own purposes. This suit is powerful, but absolutely refuses to be teleported to the front lines, so I arranged for the war to come to me. Finally, Aielund will be secure. My reign will last for centuries, for within this suit I am practically ageless."

Aiden continued staring up at the monstrosity, paralysed with fear. His earlier elation at finding the staff vanished the instant Seamus had destroyed it. They had no way of stopping him now.

"This is wrong, father," Criosa wailed, backing away as the king began to move towards her. Captain Sherrard moved to stand before her, but the king simply shoved him aside as if he weighed nothing.

"I'm removing you from the presence of these traitors and heretics," he growled ominously. "You will learn obedience, so help me." He had stepped right past Aiden, whose wide eyes were locked upon the sight of the unstoppable construct stomping by. All of his fears had come to pass and in his panicked state, he could barely think. As he stared at its back, wallowing in defeat, he suddenly noticed something of paramount importance.

The rear hatch was open.

His mind froze and hope surged into his chest, along with a healthy intake of air. His mind whirled at the implications, but only one possibility came to mind.

"The staff must have..." he whispered aloud, drawing the conclusion that when he sent out the neutralising burst, it must have triggered the Ironlord's escape hatch.

With fury replacing fear, Aiden rose to his feet. Options flooded through his mind, but he latched onto the most appropriate response — unbridled rage. He raised his arms and roared the command word for the bolt storm invocation over and over, sending a swarm of glowing darts into its vulnerable back.

Aiden swayed from the discharge of energy being drained from his body, but delved deep into his reserves to keep it up. A roar of inarticulate rage came from deep within, sounding more like that of a dragon than a person.

The king screamed as his real body was torn apart by the barrage, sending rivers of blood gushing out through the hatch. Criosa screamed as the construct fell face first onto the floor, cracking the flagstones from its sheer weight. Silence descended as they stood there, staring at the sudden turnabout in their fortunes. Aiden leaned heavily against the wall, struggling to catch his breath. In the distance, the battle raged on, and the sound of booted feet was growing louder by the moment. Then, to Aiden's horror, the Ironlord began to move again.

"It's keeping him alive," he blurted in horror. "Sy, finish this while we still can!"

"No, get him out!" Criosa cried, struggling to climb over a mountain of bodies to reach her father. Arrows began to rain through the doorway as longbow men out on the drawbridge saw what was going on and rushed to the aid of their fallen king. Criosa was struck in her arm, forcing her to pull back out of sight, but her eyes never left the metal form her father occupied. He had risen to one knee, struggling to stand while the ancient construct rapidly stitched his body back together again.

"There's no time," Aiden shouted to Sayana. "Do what you have to!" With arrows raining down upon them, the sorceress resorted to a quick dimensional shift. She reappeared right behind him and as the Ironlord stood once more on two feet, unleashed crackling green energy right through the hatch. The brilliant energy came out the other side, searing through the chest and sizzling off into the sky beyond.

When the armour fell to the ground once more, there was no doubt it would ever be getting back up again. A low rumbling noise emerged from the charred armour, along with a high-pitched shriek which set Aiden's ears on edge. Cracks began to appear in places along the metal of its back, with white-hot light shining forth from within. Heat swept over Aiden like a volcano, and he stumbled to get out of its way.

"I think we might want to be someplace else," he shouted over the noise, which grew with intensity every moment. A pillar of fire shot up from the rear hatch, blasting the ceiling with flame until it began to glow red. Outside, the archers turned and ran. Aiden grabbed a stunned Criosa by the wrist and practically dragged her away. His strength was gone after unleashing everything he had at the monster, and they stumbled over bodies and broken stone in an effort to escape what he suspected would be a catastrophic explosion of energy.

They half-crawled, half-ran away from the castle. Aiden didn't even know if the others were following, for he was so tired each movement took monumental effort. Somehow, he kept placing one foot in front of the other, urging his body forward with sheer strength of will. Behind them, the sounds of a castle wall collapsing spurred them on, and the blinding light coming from the disintegrating construct shot up into the sky, lightning up the area brighter than any summer's day.

By the time they reached the far side of the drawbridge, Aiden had to cover his eyes with one arm to keep out the blinding light. The shrieking wail had risen to a deafening pitch and in his sluggish mind, Aiden knew right then they weren't going to put enough distance between them. Despairing at being unable to save them, he collapsed to the ground and held Criosa tightly as the world around them came to an ear-shattering end.

* * *

There was darkness for an indeterminate time, and then Aiden's mind began to work once more. His eyes felt as though they had been glued together and his limbs had giant weights attached. He managed to move one of his fingers, and let out a faint groan as he slowly uncurled his body. Wiping away the muck, Aiden saw through blurry eyes the ground was covered in a layer of fine grey ash. He slowly peered around in a dumbfounded state, taking in a scene of devastation.

Of the castle, there was no sign. Only the blasted remains of its foundations were visible on the grey landscape. Above, a towering cloud dominated the sky, not unlike the shape of a colossal mushroom. The buildings which lined the main street had their exteriors charred, but were otherwise intact. Silence echoed through the streets, indicating the distant fighting had ended with the destruction of the castle.

High above, Aiden spied the distinctive form of Spartan wheeling through the skies, moving on a slow orbit of the city. A faint groaning sound drew Aiden's attention to the rubble nearby. Criosa, lying amongst the detritus, began to stir. Aiden forced his aching body to move and slowly, he hobbled to her side.

"Criosa," he rasped through his dry throat, rolling her over and checking for sign of injury. She was scratched, bruised and covered in the same fine ash as everything else, but still alive.

"What happened?" she whispered, struggling to rise. Aiden offered her his hand, but when she took it, she recoiled and stifled a scream. "Aiden, your hand!"

His glove had gone missing during the fight and the sleeve of his robe was torn, revealing an arm that was less than human. Deeply-rooted golden scales covered the arm more than before, and even its shape had changed, becoming more elongated and reptilian. A claw with sharp talons flexed on the end of his arm where his hand had once been.

He knew what had happened. During the fight, Aiden had delved too deeply into his sorcerous power, an act which he hadn't even given a second thought to at the time. Staring at his transformed arm, he suspected he had gone too far for it to simply subside back into his body. The odd sensation of scales rubbing against the inside of his clothing led him to believe they had spread further over his body, too, and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out the extent of his transformation.

"This is the price of using sorcery," Sayana remarked quietly from nearby. Aiden turned and saw his other companions rising from the rubble, all of whom stared at his sudden alteration with astonishment.

"Is this why you killed my father?" Criosa asked in a dazed voice. She was evidently in shock, which was hardly a surprise. "You're some kind of monster now? How did this happen?"

"I'm sorry it had to come to that," Aiden tried to explain, changing the topic from himself. "There was no getting him out of that suit. It was going to keep him alive in perpetuity and his reinforcements were on the way. We had a tiny window of opportunity—"

"You had no right to make that decision!" Criosa shouted, rising unsteadily to her feet. "We were there to save him, not destroy him! We could have held off any reinforcements, found a way to extract my father and later on you could have safely destroyed the armour. Look at this place, just look at it! You destroyed the castle and more than a few buildings because of that infernal thing."

"Look at those scorch marks," Ronan remarked, pointing at the walls of nearby buildings. "How are we even still alive? We should have been turned to ash, just like the castle." The sound of something immense approaching through the city silenced any reply.

"What the hell is that?" Robert asked as Sayana helped the wounded mercenary back to his feet. Heavy footsteps pounded the pavement, rattling the finer pieces of gravel with each impact.

"It can't be the Ironlord, we utterly destroyed that thing," Pacian growled, readying his scythe at the prospect of another battle. From out of the cloud of dust and smoke came a towering construct, easily twenty feet in height, cracking the city's flagstones under its immense feet with each step. It resembled a giant human, but with smoothed-over features not unlike some kind of mannequin one would find in a store. Upon its metal skin were etched arcane runes, glowing blue with power.

Mesmerised as they were with the giant golem, it took a few moments to notice there were people walking alongside it. Dressed in expensive, gold-trimmed armour was the young King Osric Davignon, who surveyed the devastation with approval. Accompanying him was Maquis Angevin Villeancourt, who kept a watchful eye on their surroundings. On the other side of his mechanical escort walked a woman in a long, black, figure-hugging dress. A black hood obscured her features, and a staff of familiar design was held in one hand.

"Such devastation," Osric remarked casually as his procession came to a halt. "It seems your reputations are well earned, Mister Wainwright."

"How did you get here?" Aiden rasped warily.

"My ravishing associate is quite adept with teleportation," Osric replied with a quick look at the woman in black. "But we had to wait for you to succeed before she could bring us here. There was some sort of teleportation warding over the entire city. I would attribute this to Seamus' paranoia, but I think it is a rather good idea, actually. My associate has also provided me with a wealth of trinkets of late, including my large friend over there." He gestured at the massive golem, which looked down on them impassively. It didn't move or react to their attention, but its sheer bulk was imposing all the same.

"If you had access to a war golem like this, why didn't you send it along and help with the assault?" Robert growled.

"I elected to keep it as a personal bodyguard, and instead sent my human protectors to aid the cause," the young king answered succinctly. "From the reports I have received, they gave good account of themselves before falling valiantly in battle."

"That's pretty heartless, even for you," Robert remarked sourly.

"They served their purpose as a diversion, as you are no doubt aware, Commander Black. Their sacrifice will not be in vain, for together we have destroyed down the mad king of Aielund and brought an end to the war. But fear not, I am merciful in victory and will not leave the country without leadership in this time of transition. I am annexing Aielund, and adding the lands and titles therein to the realm of Tulsone."

"What?" Criosa said in a broken voice. "That wasn't our arrangement! We agreed to bring my father to account for his crimes and end the war."

"Your father has been eliminated with extreme prejudice, it would seem. But I cannot simply let it stand like this. My country has been devastated in this war, and I demand reparations, as is my right as the victor."

"That doesn't give you the right to take the kingdom," Criosa shot back.

"My dear Criosa," Osric purred, "you sound as if you believe you have a choice in this matter. The army you aided is under my control. You and your companions were merely a means to an end. But if you think I'm going to pass up an opportunity to expand my realm, you are more naïve than I gave you credit for."

"You overstep yourself, sir," Captain Sherrard barked. Although he was covered in grime and dried blood, he could still project a voice that could dress down anyone, even a king. "We came here to save the realm and protect it against further harm, and if you threaten to take it, you shall find yourself with another war on your hands."

"I do not know you, sir," Osric responded evenly, "but if you speak for your associates, know this: If you attempt to thwart my will, I will direct my forces to crush you—"

An arrow shot through the air and bounced off the king's breastplate. Ronan stood with his bow pointing at the man, ready to loose another shot. Osric had barely flinched, but his face became distorted by rage. He drew a sword glowing with so much power it had become translucent, and a shield of force flared to life in his other hand. The colossal construct grated to life and stomped forward, shaking the very earth. Not since Aiden had seen the Lassitus up close had he felt so intimidated, even if this one was less than a third the size.

"Stop!" Criosa screamed, moving to stand in front of Osric. "There has already been too much blood spilt and too many lives destroyed. We are not going to start fighting again — I will not stand for it. Fairloch lies in ruins and we need to tend to the wounded and try to rebuild. Osric, you can have anything you want, so long as you leave the people in peace."

"I have every intention of caring for all the people of my expanded realm, dear Criosa," Osric assured her as he lowered his weapon. "This arrangement brings me everything I ever wanted, except for one thing — you." Aiden stared in disbelief when Criosa didn't object to this outrageous request.

"Are you mad?" he asked incredulously, still clutching his sword. "Tell him to bugger off!"

"With our marriage, our two kingdoms would be truly united," Osric purred seductively. "The old enmities would heal over, and a new age of prosperity would begin."

"He's already lied to us once — that we know of," Aiden reminded her. He couldn't understand why she wasn't protesting the proposal. "You can't believe any of this!"

"Alright, you win," Criosa whispered with slumped shoulders.

"Good, some sense at last," Aiden muttered.

"Not you, him," Criosa corrected. "If it will end the conflict between our kingdoms, I will marry you, Osric."

"What?"

"Aiden, this is the only way to end it," Criosa explained sadly, staring back at the castle. "I've just lost my home, and my father. I don't think Charlie could have survived the devastation, so I no longer have any family at all. The poor man, he had been suffering under the tyranny of my father for years. I was forced to watch helplessly as he withered away, when he should have been enjoying the twilight years of his life. Don't make me watch all of you perish as well. I couldn't bare it."

Aiden pulled her to one side to speak apart from the others. She flinched at the touch of his clawed hand, and kept a subtle but noticeable distance between them.

"What about us?" he whispered. "We were supposed to be married when all this was over."

"I wanted that more than anything, Aiden," she lamented with her blue eyes sparkling briefly at the prospect. "I honestly wanted to be with you for the rest of our days, but you're responsible for killing my father, to say nothing about this bizarre change you're going through. Maybe the king needed to be slain, maybe not. We'll never know if he could have been saved. What I do know is Osric has us right where he wants us. If he didn't have that construct with him, perhaps we could fight on, but we're on our last legs and can't let him win."

"If you marry him, he does win," Aiden stated bluntly.

"Marriages between royal families have been used to bring about peace for generations," Criosa explained. "I'll make sure this time is no different." She turned to Osric and stood as regally as she could, given the circumstances. "I agree to your terms, but Fairloch has no functioning government. I need to remain here and take charge of the rebuilding effort."

"That has already been taken care of," Osric said dismissively. "I have appointed Angevin as regional governor — he will be my eyes, ears and voice in Aielund while we return and begin preparations for our wedding. Your homeland will be properly taken care of, I assure you."

"You manipulative prick," Aiden growled, unable to help himself even in the face of such overwhelming odds.

"Language, sir," Osric advised smugly, seeming to enjoy their distress. He held every advantage and wasn't about to be drawn into a fight, unless he chose to. "You do not need to like this arrangement, but I do need you to accept it. Our two countries need to heal, and this marriage will ensure peace for generations to come. Come, my dear. Let us return to Lanfall and get you some rest."

Criosa's shoulders slumped ever so slightly, and Aiden had to fight the urge to grab her and run. Deep down, he knew she would have preferred any other resolution, but with Osric threatening to crush them at the first sign of disobedience, Aiden and his exhausted companions were no match for his forces.

The princess walked to Osric's side and stood there, patient and unmoving as the young king's mysterious associate began a complex incantation. Aiden's eyes were locked with Criosa's, as they shared what were probably their last few moments together. There was so much he wanted to say to her, to explain the transformation he was undergoing and a hundred other things, but there was no time and he was utterly spent from the battle.

So he stood there, looking deep into her blue eyes until the woman in black finished the incantation. Just before they vanished, Criosa's mouth silently formed the words 'I love you'.

And then she was gone.

Aiden was unable to react or speak. Maquis Angevin passed him on his way to re-join the rest of the Tulsonite forces flooding into the city, and paused to share his thoughts.

"I am truly sorry," he confided. "My king has made new, powerful friends and seeks to exercise this power. I do not believe his ambitions will stop with the acquisition of Aielund, and there is little I can do about it. Marshal your strength, sir, for your fight is not yet over."

Aiden couldn't even form the words to reply as Angevin departed. Not far away, Sir Gabriel led his soldiers down the main street in a well-practiced procession of victory. The city was gradually beginning to stir as citizens emerged from their homes, gazing around at the devastation the city had endured. There was fear in their eyes as they looked upon their new masters, but to Aiden's surprise, many of them held small statues in their hands.

Some of these people walked through the wreckage towards him, but it wasn't Aiden they were interested in. They went straight past and surrounded Nellise, who was clearly taken aback at the unexpected adulation aimed at her. Aiden stopped one of the passing citizens with his other, still gloved hand.

"What is that?" he asked of a careworn older woman with grey hair and fraying clothes.

"The saint has returned," she told him with an excited voice. The small clay statuette was of a robed woman with flowing hair, her head bowed in quiet prayer. Although there was little detail on the face, the person who had carved it clearly knew what they were doing.

It was a statue of Nellise.

"I watched her fight the heretics who had taken over the Church," the woman went on. "They tried to subdue her, but she faced them down in the middle of the street, and their power was taken from them."

"That's basically what happened, yeah," Aiden concurred, having given little thought to how the confrontation would have been viewed by others, particularly the oppressed people of Fairloch.

"God sent her to free us from tyranny and through her, smote the mad king with holy fire," the woman crowed with breathless wonder. Aiden's mouth opened but could not form the words to respond before she hurried off to join the growing throng surrounding the bewildered cleric.

"I didn't see that coming," Pacian remarked, leaning heavily on his staff nearby.

"It's an easier explanation than the one I would give," Aiden said.

"You should cover up your hand," the former ascetic advised. "The masses of the faithful might assume you're a demon or something. By the way, are you a demon or something?"

"Salinder's doing, I think," he mused as he removed his breastplate and stuck the clawed hand inside his robe. "I don't really know what I am anymore."

"Me either," Pacian muttered as they watched Sayana help Robert walk towards them. The mercenary had been badly wounded during the extensive fighting, and he wasn't getting any younger. There was every chance this was his last battle.

"Sorry about Criosa," he said to Aiden when they were close enough. "I know you two were close, but I did warn you—"

"I don't really want to hear this," Aiden interrupted him, trying not to think about losing the women he loved to a man he despised.

"Of course not," Robert nodded. "If it's any consolation, we won."

"I'm sure you find that very satisfying."

"Not as much as you might think. People in my line of work often get used to betrayal, but not me. I don't know how, but I'm gonna make that little bastard pay for this, I swear."

"You'll have to get in line," Aiden remarked absently, unsure what to do next. His gaze wandered to Nellise, who was struggling to extricate herself from the ever-growing crowd of thankful admirers. Naturally humble, she was unaccustomed to being the centre of attention. Her attempts to explain she wasn't responsible for the destruction of the king fell upon deaf ears.

"People have always been more than willing to believe beautiful lies over ugly truths," Maggie said from Aiden's side, startling him with her sudden appearance. "That's the problem with hanging around giants — nobody notices me half the time," she added wryly. The raelani druid still seemed vibrant and youthful, in spite of a few extra grey hairs amongst the rest.

"Thanks for your assistance back there," Aiden said to her. "We needed every little bit of help we could get."

"I noticed," she replied ruefully. "Spartan did most of the work, I just did what I could to keep him in the air. He's an easy target, and five hundred archers shooting at him simultaneously makes life interesting. What was that big metal golem doing in the middle of the street?"

"Thwarting our plans," Aiden grunted. "Don't worry about it now."

"Wasn't planning to," she said with a shrug. "Anyway, I had Spartan drop me off before he headed back to Acadia. He's a sweetheart, isn't he? I never thought I'd count a dragon as a friend, but he's been invaluable to me over the past year.

"Anyway, I'm going to tend to the wounded, starting with all of you." She held a small crystal in one tiny hand and touched each of them in turn. Aiden felt his wounds tingling as the energy began to slowly regenerate the worst of his injuries. When she reached Sayana, the sorceress let go of Robert, kneeled down and embraced the tiny woman fondly.

"I've missed you," the sorceress whispered to Maggie.

"There's a long story behind this hug," the tiny druid struggled to say. "Ease up a little, girl, you don't know your own strength."

"No, but I'm learning," Sayana replied. She noticed Aiden watching her embrace the raelani. "I told you I'd make it up to you, Aiden."

"You did well, Sy," Aiden congratulated her, "but I'm starting to doubt my own motives."

"Don't," Robert warned as he tried to find a comfortable place to sit on the ground. "Do not start second-guessing your actions after the fact. You made the right call in the heat of the fight, and I couldn't have done better myself."

"I think I was acting out of fear," Aiden explained guiltily. "I just wanted that thing destroyed, and I ordered you to do it."

"That's why my conscience is clear," Sayana answered as she released Maggie. "I'm done torturing myself over things I can't control. You should try it sometime, it's very... liberating."

"That's my girl," Robert grinned, prompting Sayana to plant a long, solid kiss on his lips.

"Well, my work here is done," Maggie said with a wan smile. "I'll catch up to you shortly."

"Bugger this," Robert snapped, giving up on trying to find a place to sit. "I'm going to find a nice comfortable seat somewhere. You're all welcome to join me."

One by one, they began to follow the battered mercenary down the street. Nellise managed to pull herself away from the crowd and pulled her hood up over her head.

"These people aren't listening to me," she confided to Aiden. "I can't allow them to idolise me like this. I'm going to have to do something about it before long."

"The Church is without leaders, as I understand it," Aiden remarked. "You could use your influence to shape it any way you want."

"I'll have to think about that," Nellise mused, then found herself fending off yet more admirers asking for her blessing. After she hastily departed, Aiden joined Ronan and Captain Sherrard, who had been talking together. They began heading in the direction the others had taken, no doubt to find a nice strong drink.

"Mister Wainwright," Denholm said, "I am deeply sorry for the turn of events which took our beloved princess from you. If there's anything I can do to help, do not hesitate."

"I haven't even processed that, but I don't think I'm quite done with our new king quite yet," Aiden assured him, shaking his hand. "You look like you're ready to topple over, Captain, but I appreciate the offer."

"The years catch up with us all, it would seem."

"Speak for yourself," Ronan remarked laconically.

"Some of us aren't blessed with elven blood," Sherrard pointed out. "I still maintain you would make a fine captain, should you wish to return to the navy. They will need good officers more than ever."

"Make it 'Admiral' and I'll think about it," the wily sailor replied with a laugh.

"Over my dead body, sir," Sherrard snorted.

"Done," Ronan agreed, taking him at his word and shaking hands to seal the deal. They strolled onwards, leaving Aiden to take in the aftermath their efforts had wrought on the city. A stiff breeze stirred up the dusty remains of their struggle, while he tried to assimilate everything he had witnessed in the last few minutes. Curiously, his eyes drifted to a small black cat sitting amongst the ruins, and although he wasn't certain, Aiden could swear it was the Captain's.

"Captain Sherrard, don't forget your first mate," he called, pointing to the cat.

"What in blazes are you talking about?" Denholm called back. "I can't stand cats, especially black ones. They're bad luck, don't you know!" Aiden stared at him as they disappeared into the crowd, then, as he looked back at the cat, realisation dawned on his exhausted mind. He cautiously approached the black cat as it sat amongst the ruins, certain his guess was correct.

"Hello, Terinus," he said to the cat, which looked up at him with something akin to a smile.

Epilogue

One moment, Aiden was standing before the black cat and within the blink of an eye, a black-robed wizard had replaced it upon the ash-covered road.

"Clever," Aiden remarked. "That was quite an effort to go to just to keep an eye on us. What did you do to Captain Sherrard?"

"A subtle delusion with no long-term effects," Terinus assured him in his ancient, rasping voice. "I needed to keep a low profile after your assault on my tower."

Aiden nodded, casting his gaze around the windswept desolation for a moment. "I suppose we have you to thank for surviving that blast?"

"Just so. I also made certain the fog was especially thick on our approach through the bay."

"It did seem rather convenient."

"All a means to an end," Terinus explained. "Long have I waited for an opportunity like this. The explosion has blinded our true adversaries for a time, and with your help, I can finally act."

"What — who are you talking about?" Aiden asked in sudden exasperation. "You've hinted at some bigger threat before."

"You know who I am referring to," Terinus said. "You have been learning their language for the past two years." Aiden stared at the wizard incredulously.

"They're dead," he whispered in disbelief. "They died, a long time ago."

"You are making an assumption based on incomplete facts," Terinus chastised him. "They did not die out, they simply withdrew. They are ancient and timeless, the wardens of all humanity, as well as the other races who dwell upon the earth. They are a power like unto the gods, and if we do not find a way to destroy them within the next week, nothing, not a single living creature for five hundred miles in any direction will survive the coming destruction."

"I don't understand," Aiden replied helplessly.

"Look at them, Aiden," Terinus ordered with a grand sweep of his staff. Not far away, the street was crowded with Tulsonite soldiers, Fairloch's citizens and standing at the front of a closed inn, his companions. Colt, Mona and a few of the rangers had joined them, having been part of the invading force, as they promised. "There stand the victors, basking in the glow of your triumph, thinking only of the steps needed to rebuild this place. They may be completely unaware of events being manipulated behind the scenes, but we know better. We walk a different path, you and I."

"Were you always this cryptic, or was it something you had to work on?"

"I estimate we have little more than a week before the energy from this blast dissipates and we lose our chance," Terinus rasped, ignoring his remark. "We can risk everything to save this land, or sit idly by while wars spread further and further. There will be no peace unless we act, Aiden."

"We haven't had peace for a long time," he snapped. "I've done my part — more than my part to end the conflict. I just need to get Criosa out of this mess and then we're in the clear. You, however, were responsible for so many deaths and so much fighting I can't even begin to articulate it. I may not be able to beat you, but I can tell you where you can shove that staff of yours."

"In spite of what you may think," Terinus replied delicately, "the war was actually preserving this civilisation from total obliteration. I had to choose between the deaths of thousands, or the deaths of millions."

"Look," Aiden sighed, rubbing his temples as a headache began to build behind his eyes. "I can't really think too clearly at the moment, and the things you speak of... I don't know what to think. I'll hear you out, but not until I get some rest."

"Of course," Terinus replied with a slight bow. "Take a moment to gaze around Fairloch one more time. I shall explain everything you need to know, but not here. We must withdraw to my tower—"

"Hush," Aiden advised as Pacian made his way through the crowd towards them. Terinus instantly resumed the form of an innocuous black cat.

"Hey, are you going to stand around in this pile of dirt or come have a drink with us?" Pacian asked. Aiden looked past him and saw the rest of his companions breaking into the Fair Maiden Inn, which appeared to have been boarded up. Good friends and valuable comrades with whom he had been to hell and back. As much as he wanted to join them, the loss of Criosa weighed heavily on Aiden's heart, and the dire warnings from Terinus plagued his thoughts. The cat meowed pointedly, and although Aiden couldn't understand it, he knew what it meant.

"I don't really feel like celebrating, but you go ahead," he advised Pacian. "I'm going for a walk."

"I think you've had enough exercise for one day," Pacian suggested, "but whatever you like. See you soon, mate." Aiden waited for Pacian to disappear into the crowd once more, before speaking to the cat.

"Give them a day to relax before you bring them into this," he said. "I owe them that much. You and I are going to talk a little more in private." The cat meowed again and within moments, the scene disappeared in a flash of violet.

About the Author

Stephen L. Nowland resides in Frankston, Australia, where he spends his time creating stories, games and art to astound and entertain.

http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/sln

Further information on this novel and upcoming titles can be found at his website, and you can follow his progress on Facebook and Twitter.

https://www.facebook.com/stephenlnowland

 www.stephenlnowland.com.au

@stephennowland

The Aielund Saga

Soldiers of Winter

Soldiers of Avarice

Soldiers of the Crown

Soldiers of Ruin

Soldiers of Legend

Soldiers of Tyranny

Soldiers of the Heavens

Other titles by the same author

The Ballard Trilogy

In the Wake of War

The Fortress of Gold

Upon the Ashes of Empire

