 
497

" _Some claim knowledge and prescience of_

events yet to come but forget that tomorrow

is forged today"

The Jharnell 8/632-4
Chapter 1

Isaac crunched on a small globe of ice, watching the last few minutes of the match, a sharp dart of pain in a molar telling him a nerve was perilously close to his thinning enamel. The noise of the television dampened the drunken laughter and the clashing of balls on the beer stained pool table. He swung on his chair to face a suddenly louder voice breaking through the general din.

He could not immediately determine who the voice belonged to but knew instinctively what was about to occur. Like a thousand times before the story unfolded quickly and violently. A glass shattered and a girl screamed, a body dropped heavily on the tiled floor. Isaac moved his drink as a second body landed on his table, blood pulsing crimson from a shard of glass poking out of the unconscious man's neck. A woman tried to stem the bleeding with a putrid bar towel her screams hitting a painful crescendo as she saw the vacant eyes looking back at her.

Issac skolled the remainder of his drink in a quick and easy motion his mouth tightening as the last more concentrated dregs in the bottom of his glass passed his taste buds. He left the bar, and pulled the hood of his jacket over his head, the chilled night air scratching his face. He glanced at the door man who acknowledged him with a curt nod from a bulbous head poking out of a tree trunk neck strangled by a ribbon thin tie and sweat stained coffee coloured collar. The hulk glanced into the dark beyond the entrance to see what the noise was all about but made no movement towards it.

Isaac looked up and down the main street in the vain hope he might hail a taxi but knew none were brave enough to risk a fare so late in this part of town. He beat his hands against his thighs and pulled his jacket tighter as he commenced a long walk to his apartment.

Ubiquitous brown brick buildings and iron fire escapes of the walk ups lined the street on both sides of the road, broken only by narrow alley ways housing piles of stinking green plastic bags. He wrinkled his nose as he considered the amount of waste a human can create just from a few days of inner city life.

His footfalls echoed around him when he noticed unusual movement ahead. He squinted through the dark and saw three black shapes scattering like cockroaches into the deeper shadows of a nearby lane. Alert but not yet afraid he moved across the road eager to avoid whomever the shapes belong to. In the few moments it took him to cross the street he worked several scenarios through in his mind. Should he be mugged there was not enough money in his pocket to make the effort worthwhile so he would then expect a customary beating. While strong enough to battle one or maybe two assailants he was not confident he could measure up against three. He looked back over his shoulder and saw the door man in the distance as a glob in the dark. He was certain the man would not be inclined to come down the street to help even if he noticed a disturbance when he would already have one dead body to manage.

Issac pushed his hands deeper in his pockets and kept walking, trying to step lightly and muffle his presence but the night seemed to amplify even the faintest of noises.

As he reached the alley he saw the shapes glide into a darker corner and he strained to see more clearly as the last feeble street light coloured the dark with a jaundiced yellow.

He tried shading his eyes from the street light, willing his eyes to see better than they were able. What he initially thought to be three men he now saw to be two men and a struggling female, the line of her hair and dress clearly silhouetted. He put his head down and continued walking knowing nothing good happens in this part of town at two o'clock in the morning. He slowed down until he stood motionless under a shop awning and stared at the dewy drops falling from the iron roof and splashing in time with his heart rate.

'Damn it,' he said aloud turning and crossing back over the road. He hated rapists. He could understand the blue collar criminal who would beat money out of strangers or even rob the odd house to feed themselves but he could not stomach men abusing women or indeed bullies of any type. He wondered where this social consciousness came from and decided it must be a result of no-one interfering when his father gave him the hairy side of his hand in one of the many drunken rages he was prone to.

He rubbed a calloused palm against the stubble on his chin and looked for something he could grip as a weapon, the muffled cries of the woman becoming more urgent.

He found a club lengthed piece of timber among some packing crates and crept silently to the entrance of the alley pressing himself hard against the wall. His heart was racing and he could feel nervous sweat begin to slide down his neck. He peered around the corner just in time to see one of the men slam his hand hard across the woman's face, the whip like crack momentarily stopping her struggle.

Issac took a deep breath and moved into the lane taking deliberate and careful steps towards the back of the first man, being mindful of always keeping both assailants in his direct vision. With two against one he could not afford to allow one to get behind him.

Raising the timber across his shoulder baseball bat fashion he approached the men.

'You boys have very poor manners,' he said as he swung at the head of the closest man.

He expected the blow to be an incapacitating one where he reasoned he could then threaten the second man who he hoped would flee, however the timber passed harmlessly through the air as his target reacted instantly to the noise, crouching the few inches necessary to avoid the impact. Stumbling with the force of the mis hit Issac knew the advantage of surprise had vanished. From his peripheral vision he saw the second man race towards him and within seconds he found his arm twisted behind his back, the piece of timber wrested from his grip and his cheek planted firmly against the alley wall.

'Our hero.' Said the first man who pressed his face against Isaac's, the menace dripping from each word. Isaac tried turning his head away, as the man's beer soaked breath was making him gag but a hard grip kept his face still. Isaac studied the man's face, that wore several old scars, the most significant crossing diagonally from temple to mouth. The eyes were squinted and bloodshot and his nose bloated and red from years of alcohol abuse, spider veins making his cheeks look like a red bird's nest. The man's clothes were no better than rags and both ears were pierced with crude brass studs. For some reason Isaac thought the man looked just a bit too ragged even for a criminal in this part of town but a swift knee into his back shook the thought from his head.

'I'll just finish what I was doing and then show _you_ some street manners my old mate.'

The second man grunted a laugh and took a handful of Issac's hair and smashed his face against the wall of the alley. Issac sunk to his knees as blood began dripping into his eyes. 'Hurry up he might have some friends close by.' rumbled the second man.

'He has no friends,' stated the first confidently as he returned his attention to the semi conscious woman.

Although bloodied and with an aching back, Issac had not been hit hard enough to lose his senses and while the man holding him had the advantage he just needed patience and an element of luck.

The arm holding him was sinewy and strong and attached to a middle aged man with a narrow face and broken teeth behind thin lips. He was bordering on the skinny but hardened and surprisingly strong from years of rough living. Isaac knew he was not dealing with simple amateur criminals rather men who had to fight daily just to survive. He was certain they would kill him without a moment's regret. He allowed his body to go limp hopefully signalling he was losing some of his fight and he immediately felt the grip on his neck loosen slightly as the second man became more interested in what his friend was doing. Issac saw his chance and sprung from his crouch snapping his head backwards in a whip like action straight into the mugger's face smashing the man's nose and splitting his lip, causing him to reel backwards several steps before collapsing.

Without hesitating Issac launched himself from what was now a sprinter's squat and drove his shoulder into the first man as he hovered over the helpless woman, lifting the man's leg off the ground at the same time and throwing him off balance. He continued to lift and slung the man easily over his shoulder and with a final effort back slammed him onto the concrete road. A rush of air left the man's lungs and he lay on the ground groaning.

Isaac reached for his length of timber and pushed it against the man's throat bringing his own face tight against the man's ear.

'Grab that piece of garbage over there and get lost and if I see you again down here you'll regret it.'

He stood back and let the man get to his feet while levelling the piece of wood at his head. The man struggled to a frog like hunker holding his stomach the fight over. He started backing out of the alley keeping his eye firmly on Isaac's weapon.

'She is all yours hero boy. She is not much of a prize anyway.' .

Isaac swung the timber but the man was off down the alley dragging his friend with him and swearing oaths of revenge.

Isaac dropped the timber and rushed to the woman who was now sitting up rubbing her jaw. She inched away as he approached.

'Hey its ok I'm not going to hurt you. You should know better than to be out this late in this part of town.' He said.

'Well a girl has to make a living. Call it hazards of the profession,' she said attempting unsuccessfully to straighten her blouse.

Isaac helped her to stand and had a chance to examine her more closely. She was tall and lean, with a firm figure and a face that was likely once pretty but now showed signs of aging too early, probably from too much alcohol or drugs and not enough meals. Her makeup was generously applied and her hair looked to be chisled out of thick hairspray and hardly moved as she tried to brush the dirt off her skirt. In spite of her dishevelled appearance Isaac decided she was awkwardly attractive.

'I suppose you will be expecting some kind of reward' she said in a casual manner, neither sleezy nor inviting and in a fashion Isaac found particuarly unappealing.

'I don't want anything, just so long as you're alright.' He said.

The woman regarded Isaac more closely her neoprene lips attempting a smile.

'I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound ungrateful. It is just that in my line of work you tend to think the worst of men.' She leant in close to Isaac and kissed him on the check.

Isaac's face started to redden and even in the dim light the woman noticed and smiled.

'You really are a nice man I think.' She reached down and picked up her purse and attempted to strut down the alley casually as if nothing had happened tripping on her high heels as she walked.

Isaac watched her leave and shook his head. 'This town really is the pits' he thought as he recommenced his walk home.

Darion woke early and pushed his doona back and swung his legs over the side of his bed while trying to read the bedside clock. The sun was about to rise and in the morning grey he could only barely read the analogue hands of the throw back timepiece. Friends and family would buy him a new clock each birthday and he politely thanked them and gave it to charity. He liked listening to the ticking during the night and even the winding of the gold wingnut before sleep was part of a routine he found pleasurable, a reminder of the simplier times of his childhood.

He fumbled for his t-shirt and shorts hanging from his dresser and he prepared for a morning run on the beach a regular practice he needed to start his day in what he thought to be a productive way.

He walked through the loungeroom and noticed the dishevelled shape lying on the couch still wearing the clothes and shoes from the night before and smelling of mud and stale alcohol. The rhythm of breathing from the lump changed as Darion approached and a swift poke in the ribs produced a groan.

'Had a good night mate?' asked Darion pulling open the venetians, allowing a crack of new dawn light to shine directly into a face that looked like it was one big graze. 'Hope the other guy looks worse.'

'I doubt it,' said Issac who turned his head away from the light and buried it in the couch cushion. 'Turn the light out will you.' He moaned.

'Gee Isaac how long are you going to keep this up?'

Issac mumbled into the cushion. 'Just trying to get through the day.' he mumbled.

'Have a shower I'll be back in an hour and then we are going remember?' said Darion.

Issac didn't say anything and heard the door close as his friend left. He knew he was supposed to remember something but even thinking hurt his brain so he thought he better stop and go back to sleep.
'I don't know why I let you talk me into these things,' said Isaac as he walked through the gallery. 'I mean really, this stuff is rubbish.' He stopped in front of an exhibit and pointed at the canvas.

' What is this supposed to be? It looks as if someone has spilt paint and tried to clean it up with a towel.'

'Maybe you should think outside your own universe,' said Darion. 'Try and be a little bit more cerebral, the whole world doesn't revolve around football, beer and women.'

'Well my old man used to tell me, 'spend most of your money on women, grog and the punt and waste the rest,' said Isaac.

Darion looked at the fresh cuts and bruises on his friend's face. He knew better than to ask what had happened but tried anyway.

'You want to talk about your face?' he asked

'Not really, said Issac. 'No big deal. Just tripped over in the dark.'

'Really? How many times?' Darion let the matter drop but was almost certain Isaac had been out on one of his trips to the West Side. He did not know why Issac liked that part of town so much. It had no redeeming features, was poor, rough and dangerous and the best thing to come out of the place was the road back to the East Side but Isaac seemed to have an uncontrollable attraction to the oddities of the poorest section of the city.

Although invited to make the journey many times he always politely declined. He almost certainly would get into a fight and he could not see the point of covering the citizens of the West Side in his blood as he did not have that much to spare.

He smiled at his friend and considered why he liked him so much. Isaac saw the world a bit differently from others. He worked very much with his left brain, the analytical. If something looked like a duck and quacked like a duck, then it was a duck and no further debate would be entertained. Darion however was the exact opposite, working always with a more existential view of the world, preferring to discover the said duck was masking a hidden meaning, maybe representative of something not quite obvious. He would probe and examine, always trying to discover why a thing existed in the form it did. For all their differences of perception, they were life time friends, from their early school days where Isaac always seemed to be getting into trouble and protecting Darion to now when he still seemed to get himself into trouble and Darion felt he needed to start protecting him.

Darion stood beside his friend and returned his attention to the canvas. He did not recognise the artist, although he could read the thoughts transferred into brush strokes, the dream the artist made into a reality. An innocuous looking tree probably plucked out of the artist's childhood, the rope hanging from a higher branch likely the one the artist swung from with friends, who would drop from the leaves and into a crisp creek. The vast ocean as a backdrop, punctuating the piece with its immensity, dwarfing the small town reality of the child. Darion knew every portion of the work held some meaning for the artist and he enjoyed trying to unravel the artist's secrets.

'Here is an art lesson for you,' said Darion not at all smugly. Isaac dropped his chin onto his chest.

'I don't want an art lesson,' he said.

'For once try not to be a Philistine and really look at the picture.'

Issac studied the canvass for a long moment. The scene seemed at first chaotic, images and colours wafting through the canvas and then the story unfolded clearly in front of him. A dying man surrounded by cherubs, his hand extended pleadingly to a benevolent god and around him images from the man's life showing him to be cruel and uncaring. Usurping money from the aged, beating children and in one graphic picture, a knife plunging into the stomach of another. The god in the picture forgave the man his many sins and after a life of decadence the man finally finds the meaning of God as he lay on his death bed. After a few minutes of contemplation Isaac broke the silence.

'Well, who would have thought,' he said. 'It tells a whole story in one picture. The man has sinned and is now redeemed. It's brilliant. It must be one of the great pieces of all time.'

Darion laughed. 'No, it's is a normal painting. Good artists make sure some things are not always in plain sight. Sometimes you have to search for meaning. See rather than look.'

He moved down the corridor and past a few of the more well known pieces when he noticed Isaac had not kept pace, still focused on the first painting and seemingly not in a hurry to leave.

'He is so predictable.' thought Darion. 'Totally uninterested in something one moment and completely absorbed the next. It reminded him of the lovely Katie Foremost. She did everything to gain Isaac's attention when they studied at university together and he was completely oblivious to her presence. She had virtually given up hope when one day she was being harassed by some very drunk dentistry students at the university student bar. Isaac noticed her distress. He walked calmly over to the group, split three lips and shook a number of teeth loose in twenty seconds of carnage and suddenly he had a new girlfriend.

Unfortunately the same traits that attracted Katie to Isaac, particularly his casual nature became an increasing source of annoyance to her. The romance ended abruptly at her father's sixty fifth birthday party which Isaac not only forgot to attend but also neglected to supply the refreshments as arranged, leaving one hundred and twenty thirsty and disgruntled guests. Isaac immediately had another ex girlfriend to add to sizable list. However, his philosophical nature explained the events as almost preordained.

'If we were meant to be together then I would not have forgotten something so important to her,' he rationalised. 'So, I really don't think I am entirely to blame.'

It was logic like this that Darion liked most in his friend. There was a science behind everything in life which is why he could not now leave the painting. He could not believe that he could be duped so easily. The message should be obvious not hidden in the oils, to him it was an unnecessary inconvenience and was a major reason he had little time for art and artists. 'Smart artists' was the term he frequently used.

Darion conversely loved the art gallery, museums or the library. For hours he could roam the corridors and step into another's reality and be part of alternative worlds, sometimes exotic and sometimes so banal as to remind him that often life was a battle with meaninglessness. They were places of sanctuary where he could find peace and quiet. For him, it was a place of contemplation. It was also a entirely good way of avoiding engaging with other human beings whom he tended to sometimes like, often distrust and always was clumsy around. This was especially so with women where he found avoidance preferable to engagement and social activites an irritant he did not need. Better to avoid the party altogether than attend and be miserable and a socially flacid.

. He studied the painting in front of him, bending at the waist to examine a corner. He straightened and sighed. He once fancied himself as an artist however he was unable to transfer his thoughts into the physical on the canvass. He had no 'perspective' he was once told, leaving him frustrated with the resultant effort being as Isaac would describe 'absolute rubbish,' so he was resigned to forever being the appreciator of other's talents and forced himself to be satisfied with that.

Isaac walked up to Darion.

'He must one hell of an artist,' said Isaac. 'Wouldn't be too many better than him I'll bet.'

'Well, I don't know,' replied Darion. 'How about this one.'

Darion showed him a canvass by the Impressionist Monet which Isaac now studied with an expert air. After a minute he looked a Darion.

'The bridge is crooked and where do all the water lilies come from, wouldn't be that many in the entire country and he has them all in one paining,' said Isaac. 'and I don't know a whole lot about bridge building and horticulture but I do know that if even a slightly corpulent person were to walk on that bridge they would be pulling water lilies out if their ass for weeks.'

'It's a Monet,' said Darion without humour, believing this in itself was explanation enough. Isaac looked at him without expression. 'This is why it is so good. He borrowed greatly from Japanese art from the mid 18th century. His house was full of Japanese paintings and he even built a bridge at his home so he could copy it in his art. He liked the Japanese liberal use of colours so much he incorporated the style into his own works. This is what is really interesting Isaac, perhaps right in front of you is the first meeting of East and West in art, a synergy producing a masterpiece. Isaac, it is beautiful almost beyond words.'

Isaac knew his friend was serious which for him was the perfect opportunity irritate him.

'But in an engineering sense the bridge is unsound. How did he get it through council approval? It looks stupid.'

'You have no idea, it is like trying to sensitise a rock,' said Darion.

'Yeah, well what I would like to know is what the paints are made out off. Now that's interesting. How old are they? A hundred and fifty years. No doubt oil based and maybe some rudimentary kerosene by-product or linseed oil mixed with some ochre. That's science buddy not this abstract garbage.'

Darion shook his head and stormed off while Isaac followed smiling. He jogged along side his friend and placed his large conciliatory hand on Darion's shoulder turning him down a narrow corridor. 'Ease up Darion, no need to be sulky. Tell you what lets explore a bit.'

Isaac picked his way down the aisle that narrowed with each step, nearly knocking over a pair of ancient Grecian urns. One teetered and was caught by Darion and as Isaac spun around to help, he promptly toppled the other which Darion caught with his spare hand.

'Good work Isaac. How about you watch where you are going, either one of these vases is worth a lifetime's worth of your wages you clumsy sod.'

'It's ok I don't have a job.' he said with a chuckle.

As they moved deeper down the aisle, they noticed the floor in this part of the gallery was covered in a soft talc of dust, the jarrah sheen on the parquetry timber fading from an obvious lack of maintenance. There were no artificial lights and only a dim brightness crept into the hallway through a tiny sky light far above. The way became so narrow both men turned sideways as the walls pinched inwards in a bottle neck. Neither consulted the other as they explored further tacitly committed to finding where the curious path led.

Their footsteps became a shuffle until the path suddenly widened and they stopped at what appeared to be a dead end.

'Well that seems to be a complete waste of energy,' said Isaac.

They looked above and around the wall and silently decided there was no reason to remain in the fading twilight. 'No logic in this design at all.' He said 'Must be a Monet!' He poked Darion in the stomach pleased with his joke and searched the space trying to fathom the purpose of such a corridor. It must have a purpose, as does all things, was his clear logic. It was small mysteries like this he and Darion always enjoyed.

They once spent a large portion of their summer holidays attempting to break a World War II code they stumbled across while helping Darion's father with some home renovations. They found a small brass canister attached to the skeleton of a long dead bird in their attic, 3rd January 1943 etched on the outer shell. Inside the canister was a block messages under the title 'Bletchly Park'.

Fuujfu bjfo bmjs dtz fwj xywtsl

Fsi xywtsl bmjs dtz fwj bjfo

They examined the garbled message searching for clues both subtle and obvious to decipher it, with Isaac paying particular attention to the cannister whilst Darion tried to determine the language the letter was written in or whether it was a hybrid of several languages. After a few minutes Isaac smiled at Darion and exclaimed.

'This is a World War II Mono Alpabetic Substitution Code pre dating the German Enigma Codes. A simple matter to decipher if we had the code book.'

Darion raised an eyebrow. 'and you know this how?'

'Elementary my dear boy,' said Isaac. If you had taken some of my science courses rather than those arty things you do you might learn something. I spent an entire semester studying the nature of codes and the related mathematics of trying to break them and these are particularly difficult to solve.'

They retired to Darion's studio apartment and placed the message on a white board, ordered some Chinese food and began a committed program of trying to find a key to the code.

Parading the room as if he was a seminal lecturer Isaac began schooling Darion on the nature of substitution codes and how they were simple to construct and difficult to break unless you possessed the key without which you might be able to find a commonality in the message or recognise an abbreviation. Unlikely however it is the only avenue they had to explore further.

They considered the number of times letters repeated themselves. They knew that each word must contain a vowel and the most common vowel in English was E. They also knew T and A were the next most common letters in the language and so commenced substituting letters and looking for patterns. With great application and little argument they finally had some simple assumptions.

The message had twelve words 5 of which were repeated suggesting the note had a rhythm not unlike an iambic metre.

The afternoon evaporated as the friends began moving the alphabet one and then two and then three letters at a time so an A became a C. Progress was made using what they now dubbed formally their 'Exclusory Method of Decryption'

'I think it is one of either two options,' stated Isaac confidently. 'It is the first line of a poem or more likely since there seems to be a rhythm, it looks like a common saying, 'as black as pitch' or 'as neat as a pin', I'll take the poems and you take the sayings.'

'Hang on. What makes you think they are the only two options?' said Darion.

'Well we have to start somewhere.' He said simply.

Darion possessed a substantial library of poetry anthologies and a book of adages somewhere in his multitude of tomes most of which he used for his under graduate studies and in literally minutes the puzzle was solved.

'Here it is,' announced Darion. 'Really quite extra ordinary considering the time the message was actually encrypted.'

'All right, all right just tell me the answer,' barked Isaac.

Darion smiled and announced,

' _Appear weak when you are strong and strong when you are weak'_ quoted from the great Japanese artisan of war, Sun Tsu in 'The Art of War'. Words you should live by I think,' said Darion in a accusatory tone.

The boys discussed how the message clearly was a training exercise for code breakers during the war, however this was not enough to tarnish the satisfaction the boys gained from the success of collectively solving a riddle that others would find difficult if not impossible to achieve.

The light dimmed further in the already darkened gallery corridor when Isaac spotted a crack of brightness seeping from the wall at the end of the corridor, clearly outlining the base of a door.

'Why couldn't we see that before?' asked Darion as he searched for a handle of some sort. Isaac pushed lightly on the wall and a door swung effortlessly inwards opening into a large gallery withe walls covered in a multitude of canvasses. The floor was lined with the same jarrah coloured timber as the floors outside the room but fresh and gleaming. The room while large had no other points of entry, and the air was fresh and crisp with no suggestion it was rareky used.

They walked to the first picture housed in an ornate goldleaf frame twice the size of a man and they marveled at the complexity of the colours and fine detail of each image.

'Incredible!' Stated Darion as he ran his hand over the space in front of the picture careful not to touch anything.

He stood transfixed, eyeing every inch of the masterpiece. The colours leapt at him. He tried to find a brushstroke but could see none, every image on the canvass steeped in a tangible reality. The finest brush ever wielded by the greatest artist could not measure up to what Darion was looking at. Each hill, every tree, the very blades of grass a perfect facsimile of reality. He pulled himself away with effort and saw Isaac as mesmerised as himself, mouth opened in awe of the piece.

'It's the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life,' he said.

'It's rubbish,' snarled an angry voice. 'It doesn't look real. It looks like a blasted painting, it's of no use to me and certainly no use to cretins like yourselves. Now get out.'

Darion and Isaac spun around and saw a wizened old man sitting on a small timber chair, picking dried paint off his fingers, an easel and canvass in front of him.

'It has no depth and no character, it is no better than the others,' he said sweeping his hand broadly around the room.

The two friends approached a second painting and studied it quietly. For all the old man's complaints to the contrary, Darion thought it looked as exquisite and flawless as the first, and so perfect he felt he could reach through the paint and touch the scenery. He looked further around the room and saw all of the other paintings depicted exactly the same scene as the first 2, however each possessed some undefinable quality showing them to be somehow superior to the painting preceding it.

'I'm sorry,' said Darion. 'but these are the most perfect paintings I have ever seen.'

'Then you haven't seen much and that's for sure,' said the old man. 'What are you, twenty-five years old and you think you are qualified to comment, I don't think you would know if your arse was on fire.'

Darion looked at Isaac who became annoyed, it was left brain time.

'Who are you anyway you cranky old sod?' he said. 'We merely compliment the artist, who is obviously you and you insult us.'

'You insult me by not knowing what is worthy of respect and what is not.'

He turned back to his canvass while the boys kept examining the painting in front of them keeping his head slightly turned, spying the boys under his bushy grey eyebrows, assessing each with a depth belying his supposed disinterest.

'Are you two still here?' he said.

'No, we left five minutes ago you crabby old goat,' said Isaac ignoring the disapproving nudge from Darion, 'How about you act like a human being for a minute and tell us about the paintings.'

The old man burst into uncontrolled laughter, holding his stomach. He laughed so hard he launched into a fit of coughing the boys thought would end him.

'I think the old fellow is going to cough up his pancreas,' whispered Isaac.

Darion knelt beside the man trying to calm him and after some moments the old man composed himself and looked seriously at the boys through narrow eyes.

'Why would I ever want to be like a human being,' he said as he straightened his shirt. 'Why would anyone anywhere want to be like a human being.' He fell into hysterics again and both Isaac and now Darion were becoming annoyed.

'I mean to say, just look at yourselves. You have spent the better part of the last three thousand years trying to annihilate your race, you think the whole universe revolves around

this insignificant little world and now you have the temerity to think that everyone else wants to be just like you.' His laughter vanished as quickly as it arrived and he looked them squarely in the eyes which made the boys extremely uneasy. 'No, I certainly have no desire to be a human being.'

Darion looked at Isaac and motioned to leave but Isaac was beyond negotiating.

'What are you going on about you silly old fool, do your carers know you have escaped.'

'Don't try my patience young one,' threatened the old man. 'You have no idea with whom you are dealing.' The look on the old man's face was so menacing Isaac jumped backwards as if struck but immediately walked back towards the old man with clenched fists. Darion placed a hand on his chest and tried to alleviate the tension.

'We are sorry to have bothered you,' he said. 'We will leave if you wish, but if you could possibly spare some of your valuable time then I would very much like to speak to you to discuss your art, because to a novice such as myself it does appear very good.'

Darion kept his head low almost kowtowing to the old man.

'Now that is a bit more like it. You could learn something from your friend,' he said to Isaac. 'There are little things called 'good manners' which exist on all cultures but are equally important in each. You come barging in here making wild judgements and proclamations and expect everyone to listen, well Darion you are most welcome to stay but you Isaac can leave anytime you like but if you elect to stay then sit down and shut up.'

'How do you know our names?' Said Darion warily.

'I know lots of names, the names of all the stars and all the insects, all the trees and all the mountains, but why shouldn't I know them. You pride yourselves on your intellect as primitive as it is, you try and work it out for yourselves. I would be very interested in hearing the answers.'

'Here is my answer,' said Isaac. 'You eavesdropped on our conversation and heard our names that way. You pretend to be some sort of clairvoyant and appear to enjoy speaking in riddles but to me you are nothing except a very large pain in the backside who should probably take his medication.'

The old man stood slowly and surprisingly towered over the two boys. He took two giant strides towards Isaac, grabbed one of his ears and twisted it until Isaac squealed with pain while swinging some poorly timed punches that missed their target.

'He is tearing my ear off,' he screamed. The old man relaxed his grip and sat back down in his chair appearing the harmless figure he was a few moments before.

'You should always show deference Isaac. Now look at your friend. Respectful, polite and as far as I can tell more perceptive than the average in your race.' The old man stared at Darion which made him uncomfortable. Throughout the entire engagement, Darion felt an unexplained excitement build within him and an adrenaline charge of expectation he had never experienced before. He sensed an energy in this old man, enhancing his own untried adventurous emotions.

Isaac whimpered next to Darionin muttering under his breath, careful not to let the old man hear him.

'I have had enough. Let's get out of here,' he said to Darion. 'I don't know what is going on but I don't like it one bit. This old fellow is crazy.'

Darion ignored Isaac's urgings and felt compelled to remain. The old man seemed a little eccentric but what great artist wasn't. He possessed an attraction Darion felt difficult to resist and he wasn't going anywhere until he found out more.

'May I look at your work?' asked Darion tentatively, shaking his arm free from Issac who grabbed his elbow. The old man nodded and Darion moved to a seat next to the artist. What he saw amazed him. The landscape scene was no different from the other paintings and indeed appeared again to merely be a replica but just as each of the previous works were in some small way an improvement on their predecessors, this one appeared complete. The mountains and rocks, the forests and stream were all similar to the other paintings but here more real. The creek while flawless in the others, on the canvass appeared cool, the sun warm and the grass and shrubs exuding a redolence as if the viewer became part of the landscape. Small fish, while static in the stream, could be imagined swimming in glistening water and occasionally leaping and gasping into the sky. Small gnats buzzing among the reeds as a tiny waterfall could be heard cascading over some shallow rocks and trickling into the deeper pools below. A distant white mountain glistening with snow and ice held court over the picture. Darion could not remember ever seeing such a place of tranquility.

He could sense rather than see all this in a glance. He knew intuitively that this painting was the end work of all the others, impossible to complete further, its exactness creating a reality as factual as the ground he stood on. He looked imploringly at the old man.

'How could anyone create something like this? It's perfect,' he said.

The old man nodded.

'It is a bit difficult to explain Darion and even harder for you to accept. The painting and the world it represents are the same thing. The painting creates the world but is only a reflection of the world it creates. The painting cannot exist without a world to copy but my world only exists because I have created the painting. Be careful Darion because this a Great Paradox and many before you have gone quite mad trying to rationalise the concept.'

Darion thought for a moment. 'You would have me believe that through your paintings you have created a world but unless this world existed somewhere in the first place then how could you possibly report it in such detail on the canvass.'

Darion smiled, feeling quite satisfied he was as cryptic as the old man.

The old man however did not smile. 'It seems you may have been chosen well,' he said.

'What do you mean chosen?' said Darion, but the old man refused to answer and seemed to Darion to be in deep thought, occasionally nodding to himself. Darion kept looking over the canvass.

'What is this place?' he asked.

'It is the island of Salnikov,' said the artist. 'Haven't you seen it before? Maybe in a dream.' He asked.

Darion was sure he had never seen the terrain before but something tickled the back of his brain as if a dream memory was indeed tucked away somewhere, but who remembers all their dreams he thought.

'No, I have not seen it before or I don't think I have. In fact it is different than every place I have ever seen. What do you think Isaac?'

Isaac moved to the far end of the room, rubbing his head with feigned disinterest while listening to every word with his good ear.

'I don't care and you and your new friend can go and get stuffed. I would like to leave now thank you.'

Isaac walked to where he remembered the door being but strangely found a solid wall.

'What is going on here?' he exclaimed.

Darion also moved to the wall and he too could see no trace of the entrance. They both searched the entire perimeter of the room sliding their hands over the walls and could find no doors or evidence of any way to exit. It was only then they realised the room had no windows and importantly, no lights. The room appeared to be illuminated impossibly by the paintings themselves, each one creating a natural light no different than if they stood outside on a clear autumn day.

'I think you had better explain yourself,' said Darion.

'Oh really,' replied the old man. 'You are an extremely brash breed for sure. You are obviously reliant on me to get you out of here and you have little idea of what is happening to you but you will stand here almost threatening me to do your will. Suffice to say boys, should I desire it, I could snuff out your paltry existence with only slightly more effort than I am expending sitting on this chair. However, if you would be so kind as to sit down then perhaps we can get down to cases because curiously enough, you two have been chosen to help me. Now I don't mind telling you I told them I did not want any help but they insisted. It seems they believe you have been preordained to help me and you may have a role to play in all this and I am to accept their decision.'

'Ridiculous!' I said. 'I have been handling things quite well up until now and I don't need or want interference.'

'This has become much too serious for one man,' they said.

'What good would a couple of youths with no experience and little potential be to me. I am not running a child care centre, they will just slow me down.'

'The Jharnell tells of this, so do as you are told.' they said.

'I will not,' I replied and then they left. Now as far as I am concerned I do not have a contract to take you two with me, however, now I am in a dilemma. Here you are and here you have also seen too much to be allowed to merely walk away. I could try and wipe your memory but that is extremely difficult and not often successful. The last time I tried it I left the poor soul thinking he was a washing machine stuck on the spin cycle, so I guess like it or not you are now involved. They knew this would happen. They are very canny you know.'

Isaac was becoming upset, he was unused to such a situation. He could not physically contend with the old man, which he found frustrating enough considering he was at least a quarter of his age, but more so he felt quite claustrophobic and trapped. He was left with only one alternative. He punched the wall.

'Aaagh,' he cried as he held up his rapidly bleeding knuckles to Darion. He paced the room and swore creatively and profusely.

'Most interesting,' said the old man. 'Your friend is a masochists as well as a brute, two traits that will threaten his survival I would think. Now Darion you want to ask some questions I believe. Please proceed.'

'Well, I heard you call this place Salnikov and from what I know of geography it is no-where I am familiar with, but what I really want to know is who you are, how long have you been here and what do you want with us?'

The old man nodded.

'You have certainly asked the right questions young man. I will withhold an answer to two of your questions until later as they are very complex. Who am I? I would need a great many of your lifetimes to give you a full answer to that one and even then there would be omissions. Why? This will become self evident in time however I can give an answer to how long have I been here. Let me see, I haven't really added it up before but now is as good a time as any. I have to do some mental conversions here as not everyone uses your months and days although it is quite a sensible method of keeping time. Multiply by six and divide by nine, yes one hundred and twenty years, yes one hundred and twenty years, two months and four days, near enough.'

Isaac spat a derisive laugh.

'You don't seriously expect us to believe you have been sitting here for one hundred and twenty years painting these pictures. What sort of morons do you take us for. Old fellow, you have definitely lost your marbles. Now you may have buddied up to old Darion here but not me, I've had it. As soon as we get out of here I am going straight to the cops and have you arrested. I think that deprivation of liberty, kidnapping, and assault should be enough to stick your ass in the big house for a couple of years and let's face it you only have a couple left.'

The old man glared at Isaac. 'I'm sorry Darion, I may have to take you both with me but I am under no obligation to listen to that in the process.'

He placed his hand across his mouth and muttered some words Darion could not hear properly. He looked at Isaac then pointed a bony finger at him and sat down.

Isaac opened his mouth to continue his tirade and only garbled noises ground out of his mouth. He looked at Darion with a wild panic in his eyes.

'Wha ith the matter wiff me?' he said. 'Iff loft ma voiffe.' Isaac clutched his throat and tried coughing sounding like a cat with a hair ball.

'What did you do to his voice?' Demanded Darion

'Try and think a little bit laterally Darion, it will come in handy in the future. I did nothing to his voice. I did however alter his hearing slightly so he can hear everything except his own voice. It really is amazing how disconcerting that can be. Puts your equilibrium way out. Don't you think that is a little bit more flamboyant than merely ripping his tongue out? Anyone can do that. This has a certain panache.' He looked at Isaac under bushy eyebrows furrowing to a frown.

'Now listen carefully Isaac. I will return you to normal once you learn something called 'respect', do you understand?'

Isaac nodded, sat down on the floor and rubbed his chin and neck making small gurgling sounds.

'I would think that noise would be more annoying than before,' said Darion.

'Perhaps, but I think you would agree he needed a lesson in humility.' The old man leaned closer to Darion and grinned, 'Don't worry I won't hurt him, I am just having some fun' he said.

Darion relaxed. When he first met the old man he felt an unusual excitement he could not explain. He sensed he knew this old man who had a familiarity Darion wondered about. He definitely had not met him before and indeed did not recognise anything about him but he equally felt a nagging itch making him desperately curious about the old man. He could think of no other way to explain it. The man simply seemed familiar.

'What is happening to us?' he asked finally.

'Well Darion, it is like this. I have been given a task to perform. In fact I was given it some time ago now, about five thousand of your years, ever since we discovered its existence. I have had some difficulties completing the task, and on a few occasions it has almost bested me. Whether through good fortune or good favour however I am still here.'

He reclined in his chair and locked his fingers behind his head. 'The task I am allotted is a very important task, the most important task ever issued I would think and if ultimately I fail, then we all fall. It must be destroyed Darion, but it is not an easy thing to do. The circumstances must be perfect, the time right, the pieces on the game board aligned perfectly. I have tried on other worlds to destroy it, thinking in my pride I would succeed but of course I was wrong. My arrogance nearly ending everything. And if I am gone Darion, then we surely are lost because with me also go my powers and he is aware of this. He won't kill me, no, he knows that is foolish and futile, but he can absorb me. I become him and all that I am and know also become him. Horrors beyond imagination would follow. Oceans would boil, deserts flood, worlds collide, suns explode and planets would fall to him one by one until nothingness. And then what? I do not think that the fool knows himself. Once he had absorbed everything then he could only devour himself and then we really would have an end to all existence. An evil triumph that would finish all life.' He was looking over Darion's head into the middle distance now seemingly talking to himself.

The Keepers know all of this and they know, as powerful as they are, that one by one they too would fall. It would be only a matter of time, and time is something he has plenty of. So they all sacrificed some portion of themselves and bequeathed it to me, their champion, or more so their final hope. Even though they have been weakened dangerously, they knew it was the wisest thing they could do. Collectively, through me, we may have a chance, but chance is all we have, wild frivolous chance, and one we must place all our faith in.'

He sat quietly now neither waiting for a response nor ready to continue. Darion was entranced in the old man's story. It was too incredible to believe there was some kind of universal force at play here, but he could not deny his own eyes. This was not some staged play just for his benefit. It was real, as real as the adrenaline thumping through his body. He was part of something immense and he felt his entire life to this moment was a simple prelude to a great adventure. Why should he believe this story or moreso why did he desperately want to believe it. It all seemed credible to him. He needed no further proof and believed the old man without hesitation, even though his inherent pragmatism, a trait he had long been proud of, told him this must all be false.

'The end game is upon us Darion,' said the old man. 'We are slowly moving to the day when he and I meet for the last time but he does not know about you two and neither do I. I have no prescience of your and Isaac's role but my instincts tell me it is a variable he has never considered in his arrogant calculations. Personally I am skeptical and you may simply be led to your death. There is however an itch that I cannot scratch with you two that tells me you may be the difference. Only time will reveal these answers.'

The old man chortled, his beard jiggling against his chest.

'A couple of youths from Earth will determine our futures, who would have dreamed? Laughable really, especially since your entire history has produced precisely nothing of any tangible good. Earthlings do not value add to the product of life. Unfortunately, you are too self centred and destructive. Too eager to kill first and question later. Too eager to rape the environment that sustains you and in the process impregnate her with your dead seed. What I find ironic is that we all know left to your own devices you will extinguish life on your world within the next few thousand years and here I am enlisting your support to save life across the universe. Ridiculous, but that is often how life works, twist and turns one cannot predict.

Well there you have it, some of it anyway, enough for now I think. You have much to digest before we leave.'

'Leave?' said Darion.

'Leaf?' Mumbled Isaac who although appearing angry and disengaged heard every intense word the old man spoke.

'You have said a few times now we are going somewhere with you but I assure you we are not going anywhere,' said Darion firmly,'and anyway, where would we go even if we did agree. We can't drop everything and jump on a plane. I don't even know your name for Christ's sake.'

'Don't say his name like that Darion, he really does get most annoyed, but I suppose he is too weak to do anything about it now.' The old man chuckled softly.

'You will be leaving with me and that is final. We do have a short time beforehand to get to know each other. You have no need of possessions, all will be provided. The only things you need are your wits and your manners.' He directed the last comment to Isaac.

'Well Isaac? Can you be trusted not to open that very annoying cut under your nose unless it is appropriate?'

'Yef,' said Isaac.

'Very well.'

The old man waved his hand across his mouth and again incanted some words. He pointed to Isaac and clenched his fist then thumped it against his chest and sat down again chuckling.

'All right say something,' he said.

Isaac tentatively opened his mouth and rubbed his jaw.

'Sorry.' He bowed to the old man. 'I'll try not to offend your sensibilities with my uncouth manner,' he said sarcastically.

The old man furrowed his eyebrows and opened his mouth to reply then laughed instead.

'I think I can stand a little bit of spirit, especially if we are to be companions on the road. The last thing I need is a compliant little groveller with me.'

'If I could be ever so impertinent my liege,' continued Isaac, 'and if it is not too much trouble, would you be gracious enough to advise your most humble of servants as to how you propose we get to where ever it is you suggest we are going and when embarkation may occur?'

'No-one likes a smart ass Isaac,' the old man said. 'However your question is valid. I propose we leave in the next few days, but I am afraid you will not be permitted to leave this room until then. I do not have the energy to be chasing you two across the planet because undoubtedly you would run the moment I opened the door. No. We will wait here for a bit because I have to get my bearings right or we could end up anywhere. Salnikov is a big place, a very big place indeed and I want to go directly to the central city of Mesania and not spread out all over the country side. It requires a huge amount of concentration on my part and patience on yours. Here read a book or something.'

He picked up two volumes lying on a table next to him and tossed them to the boys. He turned and began staring at the painting.

Darion and Isaac looked at each other and moved to the farthest corner of the room.

'What is going on here?' said Isaac. 'This guy is a nutter for sure but there is something about him that seems credible. I think we are in it up to our necks.'

'You're right, it all seems crazy, but you have to admit it is exciting.'

'Yeah well I'm so excited I could pee and that is exactly what I am going to do unless I find a rest room in these luxurious accommodations. Where does the old fellow expect me to do that, in one of his shoes?'

Isaac looked around and saw a door open. He walked over and found a fully equipped rest room with ornate floor to ceiling tiles and piped music humming out of unseen speakers.

'Very nice,' he nodded to the old man as he entered. A few minutes later the boys faced each other in deep conversation trying to rationalise events. Behind them a tiny crack formed on the wall silently creeping towards the roof.

'I am none to keen to go anywhere with this guy Darion,' said Isaac in a hushed voice. 'As soon as the door opens I'm getting out of here.'

'Aren't you the least bit interested in what he has said. You don't have a hell of a lot on your schedule at present. No job, woman or prospects other than trying to get yourself killed on your West side travels so why not follow this through? I have no doubt that the whole thing can be explained but be that as it may even if it is an elaborate facade he still managed to shut you up and that in itself was marvelous.'

Isaac sneered at Darion and jabbed him in the thigh with his knuckle.

'I could easily show you how I would do it,' he said as he raised a clenched fist, 'but it might be a bit messy.'

Darion dismissed the threat. He knew Isaac would never hit him. None the less he felt an adrenaline rush surge through his stomach and down his legs. He looked to Isaac who also shuddered visibly. A sense of apprehension washed over them so powerful it made them giddy. Sweat formed on their foreheads and they began to feel a weakness smother them making it difficult to stand. The old man looked up at the boys and jumped to his feet and began searching.

'You two come over here,' he said as he pressed his ear against the wall. The three men looked around the room, the boys heaving deep terrified breaths as a stifling dread settled in the room, sucking the oxygen from their lungs.

None of them noticed a new crack moving along the wall behind the old man's chair. It began almost imperceptibly, a hairline growing as it ran up from the floor, slowly expanding like a lightening bolt, spreading across the wall and into the ceiling.

As the crack widened a foul odour entered the room so strong it made the boys swoon. It was not colourless like other smells but a thin cloud that entered from several points at once.

The old man spun around and saw the fissure in the wall. He grabbed each boy by a shoulder and pushed them to the floor as the wall exploded and shot shrapnel of concrete and brick across the room.

Parts of the room burst into flame, the gas acting as a fuel, with clouds of smoke bellowing throughout the ever widening fissure.

'Hurry,' said the old man. 'We only have seconds, how could I be so blind.'

He leapt into a flying forward roll, bouncing to his feet in front of the as yet unharmed painting. The boys however were riveted to the spot by such a debilitating terror they could not move a muscle. Trance like, they looked through the smoke and flames at the old man who stood to his full height, his long white hair blowing behind him from the air jetting out of the hole in the wall, his hand now full of a black broadsword half as long as himself.

A howling entered the room so loud the boys grabbed the sides of their heads to stop their ear drums from bursting. Through the mist stepped a creature the like of which they had never seen before. A biped beast standing twice their height with huge taloned hands, hawklike mouth and dripping fangs, tearing into the putrid air around it. Its red eyes caused everything they focused on shimmer and burst into flames. The creature carried a blood red sword in its clawed hand, and raised it slowly above its steaming head and swung hard towards the old man's head.

The creature slightly lost its balance as the old man deftly avoided the stroke as he swung his own sword at the now defenceless mid section of the creature's back. His blade bit into the creature who let out a scream of anger and pain, the noise rebounding off the remaining walls. Black ooze seeped out of the creature's wound pooling on the floor and sizzling like cold water on a hotplate.

The old man used his sword as a pole vault and kicked powerfully into the side of the creature's head sending it sprawling across the room bringing down the wall and rampart with its impact.

'Now,' cried the old man who took one step backwards and momentarily balanced on his heel and like a sprinter exploded towards the painting, diving headfirst at the canvass. To Darion and Isaac's amazement the old man disappeared into the frame followed by the whisper of a 'plop' like a pebble being thrown into a lake, heard on top of the fiery din around them.

The boys stood staring at the painting transfixed, their legs rooted to the ground as the monster recovered and turned towards them. It raised itself to its full height swallowing the room with its bulk, its sword raised ready to strike, steam whistling from its nostrils and a foul stench making their lungs scream.

The boys did not have time to rationalise events or attempt any form of logical response to what was attacking them. The most primitive emotions overwhelmed them. They had to flee. Nothing made sense to them other than they knew they were about to die. The old man disappeared by diving through the painting and as absurd as that seemed, they knew to survive they must do the same. They ran the few feet to the canvass and without hesitation dived at the frame, another small 'plop' the only evidence of their unnatural departure.

The creature roared in distress as its black sword dripping with the animals obscene foulness swung effortlessly through the space the boys occupied only a micro second before. Having lost its quarry, the beast beat a clawed fist against the nearest wall collapsing both wall and roof, a large concrete slab dropping onto its head and harmlessly shattering on the tungsten hard scales and horns. The beast stood chest heaving as it brushed debris off its shoulders and walked calmly towards the canvass. The room was now completely ablaze with all the other paintings in the room destroyed, other than this last one, the masterpiece, surviving as yet unscathed.

The creature pawed gently at the canvass and thrust a clawed hand into the picture's centre. It pushed further and the whole wrist disappeared behind the oils. The creature took a step backwards and dived through the canvass only seconds ahead of a blazing girder falling from the roof.

Sirens raced to the museum as the final canvass, the finished product of Salnikov, blistered under the intense heat and rolled up like a pencil shaving until it too was reduced to cinders.
" _When the Raqnarok comes and cleanses_

the world and evil is washed away, then true

men will stand tall but some taller than others"

The Jharnell 7/728-30
Chapter 2

At first he thought he was blind, and then an overwhelming nausea swept over him until he was violently ill. He lay on a thick carpet of grass holding his head, feeling like he had a hang over, darts of pain stabbing his temples. Movement caused further discomfort and pins and needles tickled his arms and legs. He sat that way for several minutes until slowly his mind began to clear and Isaac could make out shapes through the fog. He found it difficult to focus and he felt as if he was in transit somewhere between two places, one he knew well and the other alien. His nausea lessened and the dullness around him brightened, his hearing improving and his muscles relaxing. Clear and familiar sounds of small waves breaking onto a shoreline and bubbling back into the sea stole his attention and as his vision cleared further and he could see the green of some nearby trees, and smokey boulders covered in light emerald moss, all shrouded in a wafer thin mist curling in from an ocean.

He sat still, movement still causing him pain, as he tried to orientate himself. The landscape around him, while familiar in its component parts of trees, rocks and water, felt different from any he knew. Beautifully manicured lawns and slate edging, rather than sand, greeted the water's edge as far as he could see up the coastline in either direction. It was as if

someone snipped the shoreline away with giant scissors and hemmed it with a petticoat of homogenous and smooth rocks.

He raised himself tentatively on quivering legs and immediately fell back to the ground, his head spinning. He decided to stay where he was and try to fathom what had just happened to him. He recalled with a shudder the creature in the room and remembered incredibly diving through the painting and feeling as if he free fell from a great height. The journey was dreamlike, a rush of cold and heat flooding through his body as he careered through a deep mist, his body battered and flung in all directions until a harsh landing bruised him to a stop.

He told himself to disbelieve, strained his mind to consider logical explanations as he fingered the charred fringes of his pants and shirt. Could he be hallucinating or acting out a fantasy from a drug induced psychosis or some madness he could not understand the origin of? The longer he considered these options the less able he was to deny what he could see, feel and smell around him. No dream could be so real.

He looked around hoping to find Darion or even the crazy old man but there was no sign or sound of them. He tried standing again this time with greater success and he staggered towards the water's edge to try and splash himself awake. He climbed down a few feet of smooth rock and carefully cupped a handful of receding water its frigidness refreshing him and watched as the water lapped very softly against the crusty water's edge. He ran hands and water through his hair and surveyed the shoreline stretching a few hundred yards inland before the ground began rising until it became a small hillock he could not see past. Avenues of tall trees lined a steep path rising to the hill, wide enough to accommodate at least a dozen men.

Isaac turned back to the ocean and apart from the wave-lets, appeared quite calm, benign and vast with no sign of land or islands as far as the horizon. The morning sun glistened off the surface and on such a day one could expect to see flotillas of small boats and fishermen, swimmers and divers but today the sea was utterly vacant of any human life. He turned from the sea and followed the path leading away from the water hoping once he reached the distant peak of the hill he could find some landmark to judge exactly where he was.

He began a series of stretches in an attempt to free his body of the aches of his sudden landing commencing with ankle rolls and working up to calf and hamstring extentions. He sat and crossed his legs yoga fashion and pushed on his knees until his groin groaned while pulling one arm at a time by the wrist back over his head. After a few minutes he felt much more ready to start a search of the area. He studied the hill and slowly a deep sense of foreboding settled on him. It was not the oppression he felt in the museum, rather an uneasiness he best described to himself as anticipation. His greatest worry came from his ignorance of exactly where he now was and getting back to where he came from seemed at best problematic.

He dropped from the rocks to a beach covered in fine sand and walked a few hundred yards in either direction calling Darion's name repeatedly. His voice sounded shrill in the open land and the soft wind blew his cries away. He could see no trace of Darion or find evidence anybody had been through this area recently and the beach showed only his own footprints quickly washed away by the bubbling waves. He lifted himself back to the shoreline and walked towards the path, the ocean noises receding behind him until all he could notice was the absolute silence of the land. Not a bird sang or a leaf rustled and the wind that only minutes before filled the coastal air had ceased completely. The whole land felt like it was holding its breath. It was the eeriest thing he had ever experienced.

He trundled up and along the path and after a few minutes turned back to the coastline. He noticed a change in temperature as he climbed and could now see the thin veil of mist almost entirely gone, the horizon fully visible, blank and enormous.

Turning back, he laboured in his climb for another half an hour as the path steepened, his breathing becoming more difficult. He found the hill deceptively steep and what appeared to be only a few hundred yards when viewed from the shoreline now became a journey. As he walked he examined the path more closely. It was well tendered and maintained and seemed to be made out of the same yellow/brown rocks he saw on the shoreline not unlike the colour of the sandstone blocks of the museum he just left. He bent and tried to pry a stone loose, but the precise engineering of the road wedged each stone firmly in its place. He scanned each side of the path for evidence of stones weathered loose or fallen from general road traffic but he found no trace. Even the rolling hills and grasslands away from the path showed no sign of any rocks at all which made him think the entire road base had been transported from somewhere else. The path like the shoreline looked ordered and precise and if both were clearly tooled then there were people somewhere who constructed them.

He continued his walk, the gradient increasing further, his legs taxed and his strength waning, with the summit appearing no closer than when he set off. He stopped to get his breath and noticed not for the last time his incredible thirst. His tongue was sticking to the roof of his mouth and white foam drying on his lips. The thought came to him in quite a calm manner. If he did not get some relief soon he would start to dangerously dehydrate and that could kill him. To make matters worse the sun had reached what he guessed to be about mid day and it bit into his flesh. He looked for some shelter off the road, but apart from a few scant the trees, nothing could be seen nearer than the mini mountain ahead. A creeping anxiety began its assault on his reason and he felt he needed to be off the road and away from curious eyes. He could see the hazy outline of a distant outcrop of large rocks and trees at the top of the distant mountain and he steeled himself for one last effort.

'Bloody Darion would think this is the most beautiful scenery he had ever seen,' he thought. 'Gee I'm glad he is not here.' He began to chuckle through dry lips as he forced his tired legs to move the final few hundred yards to the summit.

The walk took much longer than he expected and his exhaustion overwhelmed him. He took a final few steps to the top of the hill and collapsed to his knees, head down ans sweat dripping from the point of his nose to the dry path. He raised his head and for an instant forgot his tiredness and thirst as he absorbed the scene in front of him. A vast plain opened far below him and reached out from the floor of the hill in radials looking like green sunshine. An ocean of grass washed like a giant wave against a wall of white tipped mountains in the distance, stretching north and south, disappearing into a grey haze.

He looked back the way he had come, the shoreline now a line in the distance and the ocean filling the rest of the horizon.

He turned back to the mountains and the brilliant green of the grasslands looked like a salad bowl of freshly rinsed lettuce. Further ahead, one shape in the distance held most of his attention. At the farthest edge of his sight he could see a city butted up against the mountains, stark white buildings contrasting with the ubiquitous green.

He tried to judge the distance, remembering how he misread the journey up the hill, but was certain the mountains were at least a fifty miles away. Even at this distance though, the buildings could be clearly seen. Giant spires pointed to the sky almost as high as the mountains they cushioned against, the city looking like a white hedgehog.

It appeared larger than anything he had seen before and the exotic design of spires was completely alien to him. He guessed the city to be at least twenty miles broad and considering its height, very compact, not the sprawling suburbs he was so used to, rather a concentrated urban district. As with the water's edge, the city stopped abruptly allowing the grassy plain to continue its spread along the base of the mountain range.

He shifted his attention back to the path and saw it wriggle along the plain below but could not immediately see how it travelled down the mountain. He took a few unsure steps and warily approached what he thought to be two house sized rocks to either side of the path. He touched their suprisingly smooth surface the coolness a relief and followed their line until he stood in front of them. He saw the rocks were the crowns of two enormous carved stone heads peering down and out from the edge of the mountain. The path drove straight between them and dropped steeply into steps with five foot risers, each a plateau in itself, drilled into the mountain's side until they disappeared towards the plain below.

Isaac moved to the first stone towering over him at twice his height and examined the face. Deep set eyes sitting under a circlet of stone leaves watched over the plain below a necklace of rock baubles choked a massive neck. Long tresses of braided stone dropped down the side of a face housing a wide, flat nose with a mouth bridged by a thick moustache that travelled down each side of a grim mouth.

The face looked ancient, wise and regal, with the strength and power of youth. The heads were twins, and Isaac had no doubt they had a ceremonial purpose for the race who created them as defenders of the lands below, inanimate sentries posted to waylay trespassers.

Isaac looked past the watchmen and over the first step and sat quickly as a wave of vertigo hit him. The path descended quickly and steeply to the plain below and continued in a meandering ribbon into the distance and inevitably to the city. He did not know what to make of his circumstances.

He stood cautiously feeling the rush of dizziness pass and studied the plain below. His natural skepticism encouraged him to dismiss recent events as some kind of hypnosis, but physically he knew he was experiencing reality. He took stock of his circumstances, listing those things he believed critical to his survival and those he considered mere inconveniences. Firstly, he knew any search for Darion would be a long one and due to his complete unfamiliarity with the land and likely unsuccessful so he relegated this issue to the non critical. He was thirsty, tired and still somewhat nauseous and these he considered serious matters. A lack of water and the threat of further dehydration became his most immediate problem and one he could not find an answer for. With little knowledge of his surrounds he decided the city a sensible option and decided to stay on or near the road in the event he met another traveller. The trip looked daunting and the hot early afternoon sun further distressed him. He decided it was foolish to try and walk in the heat and risk more stress on his body. The plain below looked very fertile and green which to Isaac meant there was water somewhere. If he could at least reach the bottom he stood a chance.

He decided to wait until the sun dipped lower in the sky, the breathless heat of mid afternoon was drawing too much water from his pores and he needed rest and relief from the sun before he attempted the journey down the mountain. The distant city looked a difficult journey especially on foot but he reasoned if he maintained a steady pace, he could make the distance in about three days. He was glad he wore his sneakers. He placed his back to the leeward side of the nearest tree and fell immediately to sleep.

Isaac woke in a dark place. He supposed he had opened his eyes but could not immediately tell so black was the world around him. Suddenly he felt himself weightless and flying through the air. He crashed head first into something so hard an egg shaped lump immediately formed on his forehead. He no sooner rubbed the pain away when seconds later he was thrown again, collecting another lump on the other side of his head to partner the first. He began to make out vague shapes around him and realised he was no longer outside and sat inside what he guessed to be a timber crate and he was being transported on some type of conveyance moving quickly and unevenly.

He was tossed again and this time broke his fall with an out stretched hand.

'What's going on?' he shouted as another bump sent him reeling. He realised he was being carried but by what means he could not tell, his transport silent, except for the creaking of the timber joints of the crate. He ran his hands across the solid walls and could not find any windows or doors but the regular sideways movement confirmed for him he was being carried on something without wheels. He pitched forward again and slammed into the wall letting out another yelp of annoyance and pain.

'Hey you idiot how about slowing down a bit?' he called angrily.

The movement slowed and he felt himself being more gently handled until he stopped moving completely. He could feel the crate being lowered to the ground and seconds later the roof of the container began to give way and cracks of grey light appeared above him. The box was large enough for him to stand without crouching and he pressed his back against the wall in case the roof fell and crushed him however it came away in one piece and a soft evening light crept into the cage. He toyed with the idea of climbing out when he dropped to his knees, his mouth open in shock.

'Be careful who you call an idiot. You sure have a big mouth for something so small.'

Isaac could scarcely believe his eyes. The face in front of him mirrored the statues he saw earlier. A giant head filled the roof cavity and looked three times the size of a normal human being's, the deep and resonating voice of the creature, rippled sound waves over his skin.

With no point of reference he reckoned the figure to be in his early twenties but may have been older and his head was covered with curly brown shoulder length hair and a neatly trimmed beard covering a bright and intelligent looking face. The eyes probed Isaac for a few more seconds and hands as large as pizza trays began replacing the lid.

'Wait! Who are you?' Cried Isaac, but the giant ignored him and closed the lid. Isaac felt himself being lifted once again, this time more gently and the jolting journey recommenced in a less frenetic, although still uncomfortable, fashion.

'Don't worry,' came the booming voice. 'There are only a few hundred more steps left and I will cease taking them two at a time if it makes you happy.'

'Thanks,' squeaked Isaac, who heard his own voice as an insignificant mosquito buzz against the background of the tremor from the giant.

The journey seemed to continue interminably and Isaac felt completely drained both physically and mentally. All his long held beliefs that demanded everything in the universe to be scientifically explained if you had enough data at your disposal, deserted him completely the moment the great head showed itself throughout the roof. He felt as if he had been penciled into a story, a child's fairy tale where improbable things were the norm. A giant of a man at least twenty feet high existing in reality, indisputable flesh and blood right before him doomed his feeble logic to less than useless.

He always believed creatures of this size were impossible. The heart would struggle to pump blood over such a great distance and the weight would mean the legs of any over large creature would need to be at a greater than merely increasing in proportional scale. Gravity and weight would demand a twenty foot high creature to have legs like a dinosaur, not a man. However as improbable as he thought it to be, with his own eyes he confirmed there indeed are giants.

Now this fact was confirmed for him he faced his next issue. He was physically impotent. When logic failed him in the past he could always rely on brute strength to win the argument and quite often win intellectual debates with a literal twist of the arm. Here such an action could mean death. This creature could crush him in an instant and this made him very nervous. His only consolation was this giant, and he assumed there must be more, had not as yet done so. If the creature wished him harm, then he supposed he would have done so already.

After what seemed like hours, Isaac felt the end of the descent with one violent and colossal step keeping him airborne and weightless for a moment before he slammed once again into the bottom of the crate.

As the ground levelled out he noticed immediately their speed increase and now the giant was not hampered by stairs, the ride became smooth. The cage rocked slowly for hours and Isaac drifted into another restless sleep.

He woke lying flat on his back out in the open air, white stars blinking at him from directly above. For a long moment he thought he had dreamed the whole episode and now had the sort of relief one gets when they awake from a nightmare and realise they are safe under the covers in their bed. He could not focus his eyes as he stared at a double vision of the moon. He rubbed them hard and looked again and sure enough, two gibbous moons, looked back at him like two small C's, each in close proximity to the other. Isaac lay still accepting yet another bold fact quite calmly. He was most certainly not on Earth any more. Rather than panic, all he could think of was whether the two moons had an extraordinary gravitational effect on each other and how two moons would affect tidal patterns on the planet. Certainly the ocean looked calm enough but he thought there would be some extraordinary king tides depending on the rotational patterns of the satellites. All very interesting information he thought and completely useless.

He shifted focus and looked across the rest of the sky. No Southern Cross, Orion with the bright red star Betelgeuse was not where it was supposed to be and he should also have a pretty good view of Scorpio this time of the year and it too was not there. Saturn should be about ten degrees from the eastern horizon however not knowing which way was east made his orienteering difficult. What if the whole planet had no magnetic north, or spun on an odd axis, or turned on its side like Uranus? He would be unable to complete the simplest of navigations. The stars above were alien and the constellations mere spillages of milk across the sky. He felt very, very alone.

He sat up rubbing sandpapered eyes. His cage lay open behind him and the giant was no where to be seen. He felt something heavy around his ankle and saw his leg chained to the box with a heavy linkage making his leg difficult to move more than a fraction. The two moons gave him enough light to see vague shapes including what he decided could only be the same hill he had breached earlier, now a mere bump on the horizon. In the opposite direction he could see the unmistakable city, its vastness even more impressive now he was on ground level, the spires in particular disappearing into the night sky and while now closer, still appearing to be many miles away. The mountains behind the city looked bleak in the distance however every few seconds, brilliant lighting would flash across the peaks, jettisoning the dark and illuminating the whole world for a second before plunging it again into blackness.

'Its been happening like that for weeks now,' said a booming baritone voice behind Isaac making him jump. The giant had silently moved back to the encampment, his bulk making no sound even in the still night.

'What has?' asked Isaac.

'The mountains have come alive, evil portents we have not seen the like of and now an Invader has crossed the Great Desert, Hammer the Exalter will know what to do.' The giant did not address Isaac directly appearing to speak to himself. Isaac cast his mind back to a television show he once saw on kidnappers and knew if he could personalise himself to the giant he may stand a better chance of survival.

'What's your name?' asked Isaac tentatively. The giant looked down on him for a long moment.

'Don't speak to me Invader,' he finally said. 'Although I imagine I should feel somewhat honoured an Invader would speak to me. Usually you kill first isn't that right?' The giant became suddenly aggressive and Isaac shrunk away from him.

'I've never killed anything in my life,' said Isaac. 'Where I come from we don't do that sort of thing.'

'Perhaps and perhaps not, you are also expert liars little man, you see we don't forget our history so easily here in Salnikovia, our scars are deep and we have never forgiven and this is especially so with The Hammer. I am afraid you will not like meeting him.'

Isaac felt the conversation deteriorating to an argument but at least he was learning something about the place he had arrived in.

'So, what's your name?' persisted Isaac with a sheepish grin. 'Come on it won't hurt you to tell me your name, I'm hardly going to use it as a weapon if you give it to me.'

'So bold,' said the giant. 'You want my name and we have hardly met. You want the most personal and precious thing I own, my entire being, the thing I fought twenty years to obtain and you want it in an instant. You are a strange creature Invader.'

'I'll tell you mine, it's Isaac.'

The giant shook his head looking distressed.

'I don't want it. Why did you give it to me, I did not ask for it.' The giant seemed genuinely upset and paced the camp sight in a flurry until he calmed and walked back to Isaac.

'I see why you gave it,' he said. 'Yours is so simple a name, 'Isaac' it means nothing, it has no history and no demands upon it, it does not seem a particularly honourable name although I may be wrong, it accords you no status and requires little maintenance and I suspect you did very little to earn it.'

'I didn't earn it, it was given to me at birth by my parents,' said Isaac pleased the conversation was lessening the tension.

'Given? How could it be given at birth? How do your parents know what you will become, are they all soothsayers and diviners of the future. Given at birth. How ridiculous.' The giant laughed derisively. 'I will tell you my name little man because it will mean nothing to you, and you can do no harm with it because you have no idea how I achieved it. You are an odd race.'

The giant bowed low, until his head with its bush of brown curls bounced off his knees.

'My name is Arad the Generous, of the King Makers of the city of Salnikovia, on the island of Salnikov in the Great Aesirian Empire.'

He raised himself to his full height and looked tall and proud, his hands on his hips and a broad smile on his face. Isaac was impressed, not so much with the name itself, which he felt was a trifle ostentatious, but with the pride the giant showed. He wore the name like a badge of honour. He hoped the name was well earned and this Arad would be generous with him

'So do I call you Arad or just The Generous? It seems a mouthful that's all?'

The giant laughed with genuine humour, the noise filling the night.

'Arad is my name little Isaac, the rest is honorific and used by my peers, those who know how I earned it, but suffice to say it is proper for you to call me Arad.'

'So do all your race have all those extra bits attached to the end?' asked Isaac and again the giant laughed heartily.

'Why of course, what a question, are you a jester where you come from or are you so frivolous as to ignore honorifics?'

Isaac thought Arad was genuinely interested although he felt he looked inglorious and barbaric in the giant's eyes.

'We have earned title also Arad but mostly from those in the military who have done some great deed in battle.'

The giant became suddenly thoughtful and wary as he stared daggers at Isaac.

'Yes that would make sense. When you cast my grandfathers from their homes and slaughtered their children, and burnt their fields and exiled what was left of our tiny numbers to the wilderness, I suppose great medals and names were distributed on that day Invader.'

Arad slammed his fist into his hands, the slap like a thunderclap exploding overhead. He stomped around the camp site, kicking the ground his eyes dancing with red anger.

'It could not happen now Invader, we are strong again, terrible and strong. We have an army where we had none before and the greatest navy in history sitting in our harbours and the time will come when Hammer the Exalter will become Hammer the Restorer and we march to the lands of our fathers and reclaim what was ours.'

At that moment Isaac thought his life was about to end. Arad stamped his feet in anger and pulled his hair. He tore massive boulders half buried in the ground and tossed them high into the air and watched them crash into the plain in a shower of rubble. All trace of the affable giant vanished and his face became hard and cruel as he bent down low to a cowering Isaac.

'I won't hurt you Invader,' he said. 'The Hammer will need to see you and his wisdom will decide your fate, although I think it is almost sealed.'

The giant took the ankle chain off Isaac's foot and returned him ungently to the cage. The giant quickly broke camp, gathering a light backpack and blanket and hoisted the cage to his back, setting off for the city with renewed vigour. Issac could feel the giant's urgency, air whistling through cracks in the timber cage as the giant swallowed the distance between he and his destiny with disturbing rapidity.
" _A great One is coming to the Gathering_

and will contend with evil. He will be

victorious but only if he follows the Law"

Jharnell 23/868-70
Chapter 3

Darion woke with a jolt and raised himself on bruised elbows. He tried to stand cautiously however his aching joints refused to stretch, ceased like an old motor. He crumbled to a crouch and rubbed his temples with his knuckles an exquisite pain stabbing through his skull. His head felt as if it had been crushed between two bricks and the throbbing became so strong he thought his brain was about to leak from his ears. His swollen tongue stuck to his palate as he closed his eyes tight and placed his head in his hands, hoping to squeeze the pain out through his forehead.

Like a light switching off the migraine ceased and Darion fell onto his back in relief, the headache exhausting him. Minutes or hours passed before he could raise his head and his muddled thoughts began to take form. He shuddered at the images of the monster in the room he so narrowly escaped. He slowly regained clarity of thought and replayed the last moments in the museum in his mind. His belief was absolute. He knew without doubt he had followed the old man through the painting and into a wormhole or some type of vortex that spirited him to a new world. What he knew to be impossible fantasy only hours before he now knew as fact. Supernatural forces did exist in the world and he could now attest to this as a witness. He did not try and rationalise it further, which was unlike him. He knew his survival depended upon him accepting unreal circumstances as fact. He had been transported to another place, most likely another planet, called Salnikov. This was the sum total of his knowledge and it was very likely it was no where near enough to survive.

His next conclusion disturbed him more. The painting clearly was his mode of transport and this was undoubtedly destroyed in the fire which, leaving him with two possible scenarios. One. He would not be going back the same way as he came and secondly unless he could find Isaac and the old man, he was not going back at all.

He scanned his new environment looking for Isaac and could not find any sign of his friend. He had little doubt Isaac, being the selfish beast he was, would ensure he was well organised before beginning any search of his own. Logic dictated to Darion that if they both went through the painting at the same time, then he also must be on Salnikov somewhere.

Now fully coherent Darion assessed his surrounds in more detail. He was perched on a rocky shelf wrapping him on all sides. The roof was honeycombed with a vein of hundreds of various sized holes allowing the sunlight to shine through the cave. The rocks around him were not the limestone type he expected to find in a natural cave, rather a sedimentary type piled in places and scattered in others. He picked up a smaller rock and turned it over and over in his hand. The face was smooth and symmetrical, the rounded edges suggesting it had been machined, a blueish tinge on the surface suggesting it may contain some trace metal. He dropped the rock that landed with a hollow thud and sidled his way along the shelf until he had to stoop and crawl tenuously towards the largest of the holes. He stuck his head through the gap and could scarcely believe his eyes. He was perched on the side of a large cliff, thousands of feet above the ground. He stretched his neck further and could see the face of the outside wall looking as balanced and smooth as the rocks inside the cave. He looked up and followed the cliff face that stretched a few hundred feet further and seemed to taper so he could not guess its true height. Below him the wall flared out to a conical base looking like huge upside down mixing bowl.

His eyes were drawn to the foundation of the mountain, surrounded by a moat of grass with paddocks radiating towards a forest several miles in the distance that seemed to encircle the mountain. Beyond the forest, Darion could see the line of a mountain range with a single peak reaching high above the others, a white capped witches' hat reflecting the sun across a deep green valley. Further still he could see past the peak and in the vast distance another line of mountains covered in a haze of dirty white greeting a deep blue grey sky.

Darion tried to remember where he had seen this country before and it quickly became obvious. It was the old man's painting. The colours and hues looked exactly like those in the picture, however the aspect was quite different. The painting showed a ground level view of a creek or river and here he was on the brink of the edifice looking down. The old man called the place, 'Salnikov' and he had landed in a mountain on Salnikov somewhere.

As beautiful as the view was, his dilemma was unchanged. He was perched on the side of a mountain and without growing wings he was going to have to find an exit either up or down on the outside of the cave. He picked up a pebble he thought again resembled a machined ball bearing rather than a stone, and leant a little further out of his hole. With a measured hesitation he let the marble roll out of his hand and watched it spin down the mountain, picking up speed until it disappeared quietly into the distance. With no foot holds or crevices to gain purchase and no path evident he decided there is no escape this way.

His returned his attention to the grotto and searched every recess in what he now saw was a much larger cave. He brushed his hands over the walls and floor and while the mountain was a natural object his alcove possessed an eveness like the rocks that could only be fashioned by tools and machines. Deeper in the cave each wall was symmetrical with a roof supported by sturdy and smooth pillars of rock. Life existed somewhere in this mountain and he became eager to meet the builders.

He examined the cave further and found huge stone benches cut into the walls with deep holes above each, the carbon shadows around them suggesting they may have once held lanterns. The walls and floor were covered in a red fine dust and the struggling light made the room looked unoccupied for many years.

'Where there is a room there is a door.' He said aloud as he felt across the face of the walls, this time with more care, as he searched for a lock or handle of sorts. The walls suddenly changed to a cold metallic texture and a few feet later became granular. He climbed onto some toppled rocks and stretched well above his head and eventually found a handle set back in the wall. With a little pressure it moved sideways, the entire wall opening on huge whispering hinges into a dim chamber only partially lit by the fast fading sun behind him.

He took a few steps into the dark and waited for his eyes to adjust further before he fully entered. As his sight improved he could see more detail. The walls were covered in enormous dusty relics hanging like trophies along each side. Huge swords, shields, maces and pointed spears lined the walls in their hundreds along with flat spatula objects as large as a man, with nodules of hard metal standing shoulder high against the walls. Most of the weapons appeared metallic. As Darion inspected them he could see they looked to be made of a tempered steel both strong and durable. Large granite boulders like canon balls were scattered across the floor. He could image the carnage one of the balls would cause if it were rolled down the mountain at would be assailants. They would be impossible to stop, the inertia gained from the drop crushing everything in its path.

He looked above him and saw a chandelier some fifty feet above his head, covering most of the roof. The setting sun reflected silver sprinkles of light off hundreds of glass teardrops hanging from golden tendrils spreading from its centre and lighting the roof and upper walls in arrows of white illuminating the room in a beautiful twilight.

Darion lightly touched a shield resting against the nearest wall and tried to turn it over. Without warning it toppled off its balance, almost crushing him as he jumped out of the way, its echo resounding off the walls in a deafening cacophony. He bent to study it closer and ran his fingers over the a smooth ovoid edge as long as he was tall, with two leather straps on the inside of the converse shell. It was covered in etchings forming a crest mirroring the mountain and ranges he saw earlier. A delicately carved forest surrounded a second, flat topped conical mountain as the centre piece and he assumed this mountain the same one he was in.

Such was the enormity of the swords and shields, he at first considered them to be nothing more than ornamental as the largest arms ever created would be unable to carry them however as he examined them more closely he changed his mind.

The shield had welts and dents along its face, gouged into the metal. One sword was notched on each of its sides and some of the spears had the points completely broken off. He decided the weapons most definitely had been used for their practical purpose. Whomever held these weapons would be giants themselves. Darion surprised himself by accepting the fact there are, or were, giants. After all, why not, he thought. He had just seen the bogey man in the art gallery, he had been transported by means he could only describe as magical to a land he thought was likely another planet and now that planet was inhabited by giants. Quite logical.

He moved around the rest of the room and sensed, rather than saw, an opening at the opposite end of the hall. An oily odour crept into the room from that direction reminding him of a mechanical shed the smell both familiar and unpleasant. With no other paths evident, he decided to investigate the source of the smell.

He found a long smooth corridor with close walls and a roof dripping with a regular rhythm of water from an unknown height. The lights from the fading sun reached further along the corridor than he anticipated allowing him to move some distance before darkness became a problem. As he moved deeper into the mountain he felt a growing oppression from the millions of tons of rock he felt above his head and the air carrying a density he felt like a weight on his shoulders. Breathing became difficult. He could not see then end of the path and with little light he felt extremely uncomfortable. He needed to think of a better plan than to march into the unknown unprepared except for his wits which he knew were only the barest of protection at best.

He returned to the hall and with fresher air his judgement improved. There was simply no exit down the rock face so the corridor needed to be breached, however it would soon be too dark to see and even in full sunlight he could only travel a few hundred yards before the sun's light failed him altogether. He had no lamp and certainly no matches.

He searched the larger trophy hall as he now called it, and found some walls partially collapsed either from a seismic activity or from warfare, closing the whole area in. He could imagine at some time the cave would have led to a very sizeable ledge that opened to the spectacular view of the mountains in the west.

He remember the notched shields and swords and hoped it was a natural event that shook the walls and not a war as he did not particularly wish to meet up with either protagonist.

As he searched for ideas, he noticed his hunger for the first time and added this to the long line of physical despair he would suffer without rapid relief. He also felt the waning sun giving way to an autumn chill suggesting a cold night ahead lengthening his inventory of threats to his life further.

With all the modern conveniences he took for granted for so long back home, he now realised he needed fire and he had no idea how to make it. The most primitive of Neanderthals could make fire but not him. He felt rather pathetic and even more so when he realised the sum total of all his out door adventures were a few weekends a year on his uncle's farm and two bivouacs while in the school cadets. He was not even in the regular cadets but the brass band of all things.

He chuckled in a type of delirium only fatigue can create as he slowly continued his search of the trophy room. He found a cache of battle gear, most of which contained leather undershirts and jerkins and a sizable amount of splintered wood and no leaves, bark or any other material he could use as a starter for a fire.

He pulled one of the undershirts out of a corner and marvelled at its size. It could easily hold four men of his size with room to spare. He found a dagger, which for him was as large as a sword, and cut the shirt into shreds, rapped the cloth tightly around the blade and the rest he stuffed into his pockets and shirt front. He took some of the timber slivers and skewered them onto the blade.

He now had a sizable torch and a considerable stock of fuel, but still no way to ignite it. He sat down on his haunches and tapped the sides of his head rhythmically, trying to loosen free an idea that would help him make fire.

The idea first struck him as remote and fanciful and then it became far more plausible as he explored it further. Some of the shields had an ornamental quality, with glass and jewels embossed onto the surface. The jewels were beautiful and expertly crafted some convex and others concave and some solid tear drops of diamonds. He selected one and studied it closely and reasoned it could possibly double as an very effective magnifying glass.

While the sun had some heat left in it, he angled the glass so as to shine heaviest on the cloth then adjusted the angled and waited. Without tinder and a dying sun he had little scope for second chances when a brown ringlet appeared on the cloth and spread outwards in concentric circles until a small lick of fire sprouted from the cloth.

The fabric on the sword burst into a yellow and blue flame and began eating into the cloth and slivers of timber quickly. Without delay Darion set off down the corridor, hoping his journey would not take long as the first layers of cloth started peeling off in blackened sheets. He kept adding fresh shreds of cloth to the flame and jogged steadily along the path. Now he was deeper inside the mountain, he tried searching the walls and roof of the tunnel for some kind of access. The walls were smooth and as exquisitely constructed as the trophy room and appeared to form a solid tunnel with no openings on either side. The roof initially seemed to be far too high for him to reach or study but with the new light he could see it no more than thirty feet above him all of which reassured him that the cave had structure and he was not likely to fall into some kind of endless fissure. After about ten minutes of steady progress he came to a stop to re organise his lamp and to catch his breath. He knew from his running days at university that he had travelled maybe two miles from the entrance. He took stock of his fuel and determined he had enough pieces of shirt and wood left to last another thirty minutes, which would equate to a neat eight miles from the start.

He tried not to think of what would happen when the light extinguished although he felt confident he could negotiate his way back by touch from the even walls around him.

He travelled deeper and deeper into the cave and he could feel the breeze he first sensed back in the trophy room now noticeably stronger and while musty before, now quite pungent. Although repulsive the smell at least gave him a target of sorts to reach for, as it had to emanate from something or somewhere.

He set off again at a quick jog trying to get as far as he could while the light lasted, mindful also of conserving his quickly draining strength and careful not to lose too much moisture through sweat in his already dangerously depleted body. His mouth was now quite dry and his lips stuck together with a white paste. He could think of little else other than to find an end to the cave and locate some water.

He wedged the last of the fuel onto the dagger and held it high in the air. The smell in the cavern now so objectionable he was forced to throw up what little contents he had in his stomach. Even with a fresh torch he could only see only a few feet ahead and the real prospect of being left in total darkness spilt a wave of panic over him.

Without warning several things happened at once. Something struck the side of his head which pushed him against the nearest wall. A second blow, harder than the first, hit his shoulder and then another smacked into the back of his head sending him sprawling onto the ground, his lamp flying out of his hand. He felt something brushed his ear and sweep past him in a whoosh of thick air and landed dimly on the hilt of the sword he used as a lamp. A second followed and then a third. The whole cave seemed to come alive with flapping wings attached to a watermelons sized bodies, flying madly and slamming chaotically into the walls and Darion, tearing rents of skin each time they brushed him. He flailed his arms hopelessly above his head but did little to stem the tide of attacks. He felt blood trickling down his head as he started kicking and swinging arms madly trying to reach the dagger that still burnt fiercely with last of the fuel. He punted one of the creatures across the cavern and it cracked its head on the cavern wall, dropping dead to the ground. He lifted his sword high and swung it helicopter fashion around his head, hitting two of the creatures across their beaks, dropping them to the cold stone floor. His relief was only temporary as two more quickly replaced the others in a frenzied attack. He barely had time to assess the ones he had just killed before he was overrun by the several more of the creatures flying down for the high cavern ceiling. He bent down over the body of one he had killed and quickly recognised the moth like shape although ten times greater in size than anything he had seen before. The creature's red legs and wings were pointed with sharp ends, talon-like and each cut like a razor when they touched his skin. He quickly realised the mortal danger he was in if he kept getting struck and he needed to somehow escape. He decided to make a final run back the way he had come when another vicious blow almost knocked him out and the lamp again flew from his grip landing against a wall.

For a brief moment the lamp extinguished and he was left blind the darkness instantly smothering him, his eyes seeing only little darts of light the legacy of the lamp in his retina memory. The moths immediately ceased their frenzied attack and the cavern became quiet, the sound of the beating wings replaced by a cold nothingness.

Darion stared at where he thought the dead lamp lay and watched as a single spark fly briefly into the air and tumble turn across the cavern until it came to rest a few feet away. Immediately a line of fire erupted from the spark. In a split second he could see where the wall and floor of the cavern met, a gutter full of a black viscous liquid stretched into the grey distance, burning away from him like a fuse.

The canal of fire grew in speed until it disappeared around a bend. Darion could now see well enough to allow him to more easily avoid the giant moths whose attention was arrested away from him and toward the fire. He pushed himself to the opposite side of the corridor and saw a cloud of new moths entering the freshly lit cavern thinking no doubt lured to what they thought to be the sun.

He could see no purpose in trying to move further into the cave as even though he now had sufficient light, the frenzied moths still seemed too dangerous approach. He started moving back when he noticed for the first time the walls were not merely blank rock but covered in a mosaic of colours and drawings. He studied them with one eye while moth spotting with the other and now saw the wall as being a giant mural stretching along both walls as far as he could see. He gently touched the paintings running a soft hand across the wall the tactile sense as powerful as his any visual feelings. The brush work seemed as flawless as the works he had just seen destroyed in his own world's gallery, the hues and textures, the mix of colours, the lines a perfect aesthetic piece each element of the work as significant as any other piece of the painting. Mile after mile of exquisite masterpieces, the composition creating a most extraordinary collage. Pictures of battle scenes mixed with those depicting family life. Men, women and children farming, stone masonry, sailors on rolling oceans, bakers, taverns, every aspect of human existence replicated on the walls. It may have told a story if read from end to end or simply the meanderings of an artistic mind, an 'Ecole des Beaux-Arts' as his teacher would describe art he thought belonged in that academy.

Darion pawed over the works trying to draw the life out of the art simply by runing his fingers over the walls. He wilted under the vastness, a mural only countless lifetimes of endeavour could complete.

As in the trophy room, Darion now knew the twelve feet plus human images were more than a metaphor or a poetic licence and in reality depicted the true size of the beings living (or had lived he reminded himself not having seen any brething examples) in these regions. From an artisitc perspective however, the absurd size did allow every sinew and muscle of these persons to be reported in minuscule detail in the paintings.

The creatures wore horned helmets like the gods of Asgard, their Valhalla the massive Mesa, the underlying image in all the works. The warriors were dressed in red, the traditional symbol of the martyr as they battled unseen foes. Try as he could, Darion could not see an enemy the giants fought only the results of failed battle. Dead men lay strewn across the battle field, with graphic features of limbless bodies and pools of blood spilling over the green of the paddocks. Scenes of destruction and charred land, streams of black smoke and ash filling the air and then in a compete antithesis the mural changed again to a more peaceful time of sunsets and children innocently at play.

He could have lost himself for hours in the land of the giants, but the putrid smell that initially drew him down the corridor he could sense was turning acrid now the oils were alight. He felt his breathing labour and a dizziness crept over him as his legs began to fell heavy.

He took a few further heavy steps along the tunnel when he heard a deep explosion thump through the cavern walls. Like a merecat he straightened to attention as he tried to guess what had happened. In an instant he realised the fire had found its source somewhere back down the path. He turned an broke into a full sprint down the cavern back towards the entrance, his lethargy gone as panic and adrenaline took over. He dragged his hand against one wall as he ran to ensure he kept a straight line and even at his best pace he could not hope to get back to the entrance for at least ten minutes even at his best pace and by then he thought it could well be too late. He quickly reasoned at least some of the fall out of the blast would need to go somewhere and since he appeared to be in a bottle neck he guessed that within a few minutes a sizeable fireball should be filling the cavern and undoubtedly cause him considerable death.

He ran harder through lactic acid filling legs and he could already feel warm air breezing past him as the fire pushed everything in front of it. Even the stench was warming and taking on an even more offensive taste causing him to gag as he ran. He rounded the last curve when something hit him hard from behind knocking him off his feet. He rolled to a crouch and watched as hundreds of moths sped past him their flapping wings drowning the rumbling of the advancing fireballr own wind. Darions marvelled at the survival skills of animals and their inate sense of danger driving their escape although much to his distress at a greater and likely successful speed. He reminded himself if he survived to find out why a collecive of moths are called a 'whisper' when clearly that was not the case.

He saw the bright oval of the entrance too far away and heard the maddening rumble of the fireball like rapidly boiling water closing behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the fire sweep around the last corner and bounce off the far wall in a wave of bloodshot and yellow.

He urged himself to his feet for a final dash as he felt the wave licking at his back. With a last effort he leapt through the entrance and rolled to one side, the blast a heartbeat behind him, shooting the full force of the fire into the trophy room.

Darion braced for the fire to fill the room but rather than splash against the western wall and bounce back on him, the fire blasted the side of the cave completely away in a shower of rock and heat. In only seconds the explosion ejaculated its energy out of the side of the mountain in a vent of lava and flame that ended as suddenly as it began, even the heat of the flames had spewed down the mountain, small wisps of smoke the only residual evidence anything had happened at all.

Darion lay on his back for a few minutes gasping air and finally recovered enough to sit and survey the damage. There was no sign of the moths who he assumed had either benn absorbed by the fire but more importantly there was no western wall at all. He brushed his singed hair out of his eyes and moved towards what was now a new window to the western world. Only moments before, small holes and cracks were the only openings out of the trophy room, and now there was a massive hole that gave an incredible panoramic vista of the entire region. The white tipped mountain on the horizon could now be clearly seen, and beyond the mountain a thin line of blue ocean.

As he looked west he felt an exhaustion he did not know possible. Now the euphoria and adrenaline of escaping a life threatening situation had passed, he felt completely spent and so thirsty and hungry he could not imagine surviving a night on this ledge. He shifted his attention from the view to the smouldering mess he sat in. All of the beautiful armory had been blasted out of the ledge leaving nothing except ashes and rubble. He bent and picked up the remains of a leather jerkin the torso shape remaining but the material fracturing in his hands and running through his fingers like black sand. He felt a pang of guilt twist his stomach as he knew his actions were responsible and a deep regret wedged itself in his mind. He always glorified art and now he destroyed it.

He took a deep breath of resignation as he turned and re entered the corridor. Light was no longer a problem as the remains of the fire ball provided quite enough for him to find his way safely. Fumes still filled the canal but now he thought them much less offensive giving him confidence a second attempt at the tunnel would prove easier.

He ambled along the path in a lethargy brought on by his emotional and physical exhaustion and the more he scanned the walls of the cavern the greater the breathtaking loss over came him of paintings where only minutes before spellbound him now were scorched and blackened beyond recognition. He continued down the tunnel and looked for any mural to have escaped the inferno and all he could see is brief dapples of colour meaningless without the rest of the art.

He buried his thoughts into a corner of his consciousness to explore at a later date, guilt being the last emotion he needed to experience at the moment as he continued trying to find an exit from the mountain.

He walked along the cavern for another half an hour until he saw a glow of brighter light dancing on the walls ahead. He turned the next corner and suddenly both walls dropped away and he found himself at the entrance of a room the size of a football field. An enormous crater smouldering with steam and smoke filled the centre of the room. He moved closer to the hole and covered his nose as the smell assaulted him. He gasped as he saw countless hundreds of body parts both large and small piled deep in the crater in a macabre funeral pyre. The carcasses look to have been there are an age and their decomposition leaving a pool of thick putrid tar. Darion could only hazard a guess but it looked as if nothing had disturbed the pyre since the bodies were interred.

He pondered the carnage in front of him and he could see some of the murals now makingsense to him. At some time there must have been a huge battle right here in this room and guaging from the numbers of oversized body parts he saw in the crater, it seemed the giants had come second. What concerned him more however was who and where the victors were. What could be powerful enough to destroy such vast creatures. He recalled some wisdom his father shared with him when he was growing up after he was bullied by the school punk and the words replaced the karate lessons he wanted.

"Son, always make sure you can run faster than the other fellow and don't be afraid of the man with the scars all over his face, be afraid of the man that gave them to him."

Whomever could destroy so many of these creatures would be very formidable themselves.

The shadows from the flames of the still burning rivers of tar jiggled over the roof and walls of the cavern and he suddenly understood why the pyre existed. Why not bury the fallen? Surely a soldier's death should be more respectful, but how do you bury anything when the very floor you walk on is made of rock? He did not know why a proper cremation had not occurred long before, and why the dead were left to rot but burial was certainly not an option. He had more questions than answers although he started to feel some hope. The victor had to go somewhere. They could not get out the way he came so there must be an exit further along.

He walked around the fire and saw for the first time several doorways at the far end of the room. Two had stairs rising sharply with another three having stairs winding down into the mountain. He thought both logically and intuitively going down would lead out of the mountain's base. The first door led to a path barely lit by the pyre and only a few feet in he found it blocked by rubble. He returned and tried the next with similar results. He did not try and think too far ahead but knew if all the doors were blocked he was short on alternatives.

The final path wove steeply down unimpeded, and he placed his hands against the walls to slow himself. He descended for around twenty feet when the stairs stopped and a path led into another tunnel this time only half blocked by a mound of debris. He stumbled over the broken rocks still warm from the fiery blast, the acrid air stinging his eyes causing him to blunder nose first into a solid wall.

He backed away with one hand held his nostrils the other running his fingers over the smooth granite surface of the wall and wondered why anyone would build a pathway to a dead end. He reasoned there must be an entrance somewhere. His senses became more muddled as each minute passed, his exhaustion robbing him of his normal abilities to make aconsidered decisions. He stepped back and sat leaning against the wall unsure of his next move. What seemed like only seconds later he woke with a start and for a few moments felt disorientated. He did not know how long he slept and the surrounds gave him no clue. He felt the dryness in his mouth one always has after a long sleep even though he felt as if he had only dozed. He did nothing else for the moment other than examine the problem of escape.

He began searching for rocks to stand on and made himself a solid series of steps. He thought if the whole matrix of tunnels were at one time inhabited by giants, then any door handle would have to be at giant height. He climbed his makeshift ladder and reached high above his head feeling his way across the face of the wall. He pushed his hand tentatively into a round opening in the rock and felt a handle. With one easy movement the handle twisted and the entire wall opened towards him, knocking him off his perch, and sending him sprawling on the floor.

He found he could breathe easier with fresh air streaming into the opening, making his hair blow back off his face. He peaked through the portal and saw it lead to another corridor this time well lit with lamps and torches along the walls to his left and right. His opening appeared to be one among many tunnels running perpendicular to this major pathway. To his left the path slopped gently down and to his right climbed equally gradually.

He felt strangely compelled to travel up, contrary to his good sense which demanded he head down and eventually outside. The urge to climb became so powerful he believed only by heading up would he find the answers he needed. He took another step into the main tunnel and his opening closed silently behind him, leaving no seams and no evidence it ever existed. He searched his pockets and found a coin and placed it against the spot where the door had been. He didn't really know why he did it but he felt sure sometime in the future the door may prove useful to him.

With his choices made he began his assent and unlike moments earlier, this path was well worn from what seemed like heavy use and all about him appeared smooth and ordered. The roof reached high above him and out of reach for someone of his stature and the path was wide enough to walk at least fifteen men abreast.

He stopped suddenly certain he heard noises ahead. He listened carefully and he could hear two distinct voices moving in his direction, one loud and commanding and the other replying to the first in grunts and monosyllables.

Darion searched for somewhere to hide. He wanted to have a good look at the owners of the voices before announcing himself to a possible race of giant warriors. He frantically looked for a nook or recess in the smooth rock to spy the voices and could find none.

Quickly he turned and ran down the path gaining himself slightly more time to think. After putting some distance between him and the voices he began taking the torches off the wall and stamped on the flame extinguishing them and replacing the blackened stumps back in their holdings. After a few minutes he cleared a good dozen from the walls leaving a very dark portion of the corridor. He pressed against the wall welcoming the dark where only a short time ago he cursed it.

He crouched into as small a package as possible when two men rounded the curve and straight into the dimness.

The voices, which sounded impressive and huge a moment ago in the odd acoustics, exited mouths of quite a normal size, both men no taller than Darion and dressed in the same battle regalia he saw in the trophy room.

'These blasted lamps have gone out,' stated the more vociferous of the two unnecessarily. 'I thought I told you to have the Canals checked regularly. The Night Of Celebration is upon us and things need to be in order. Is there any part of what I am saying that you find particularly difficult to fathom? If the canals to the Convecticle are not well lit at all times then I will hold you responsible. Do you understand me?'

The second and more taciturn man merely nodded and kept walking, counting the spaces where light should exist with a wagging finger. He continued to count ignoring the first man's berating.

'Have you listened to a word I have said? Perfection is required here sergeant. No-one will give me any quarter if there are mistakes and I give you none. I want the people to look upon this great city of theirs with pride, speaking in ever glowing terms of the magnitude that is Mesania and confirm for themselves their mastery over all the lands.' The man was punctuating each sentence with a point of his figure towards the second man

'There are visitors expected from south of the Silver Rapids and the Tower of Dragan and west to the great ocean's shores and all will leave marked by the opulence and splendor of this city. Already the Sentinels have eyed long caravans on each of the West and East roads. Sergeant, some enthusiasm for the task, every minute detail is critical.'

The sergeant ignored his superiors posturing. It was common for this one to talk too much, his pompousness only further confirming what he had always thought of the highest strata of the military. Lots of noise but when it comes to the real work send in the Royal Guards. This one the men called 'Blisters' as he always seemed to appear when all the work was done.

The black blazonry of the Captain of the Guards made him almost invisible to Darion, giving him hope his own singed and tattered clothes may afford him the same camouflage. He pressed his back harder against the wall as the two men passed perilously close to his position without noticing him, the Captain in particular too busy with his oration to be distracted.

The sergeant however stopped and began looking curiously around the shadows while the Captain continued down the path, oblivious to the absence of his partner as he moved his lecture to the importance of nationalism when dealing with visitors.

After a minute he noticed his audience remaining behind and he swung around.

'What the blazes are you doing man, keep up and you might learn something to take back to the barracks. I'm not speaking for my own benefit you know, merely trying to educate you low level brutes. Now out with it man, what are you doing?'

'Sorry Cptn, but it seems to me a little strange so many lamps in one sector should all go out at once when we have passed hundreds in the last five sectors and have found no problems.'

The sergeant took a torch off the wall and began examining it in the feeble light.

Darion held his breath, if the sergeant re-lit the flame he would surely be discovered and he was not confident any story he could fabricate would be believed. He noticed for the first time the broad sword that hung on the sergeants back and did not want to see if he had a propensity to use it. The Captain's impatience saved him.

'For goodness sake man how many times do I have to tell you about the skills of delegation. This is not a job for you. Get one of the men to do it. You are the Sergeant at Arms of the greatest army on Salnikov. You do not dirty your hands with menial labour. You will never progress up the military ladder if you persist with this annoying hands on approach you have. The men will never respect you. Hard and harder that is how you rule, hard and harder.' The Captain stood hands on hips as if admonishing a child.

'Now after this inspection we will go to the barracks and you can order some men to come down and re-light the lamps. Simple. Make a decision an execute your commands. You will appear competent even if you are not.'

'Yes Sir,' said the sergeant. 'But why would these lamps and only these ones all of a sudden go out, it makes no sense.'

The Captain let out an audible sigh and shook his head.

'All right Sergeant here is a theory for you that should appease your appetite for the curious. Firstly answer me a question. How often are the lamps refilled?'

'Weekly sir,' said the Sergeant in a tone that bordered on the insolent.

'And, do the people filling the lamps do so on some type of preset rotation so as to account for which have and which have not been filled?'

'Yes Sir.'

'Then may I suggest that in this instance, because one whole segment is out, that these same people have missed filling these lamps as scheduled. A simple check of their log books and stores should find the right parchment recording this sort of thing and you will find I am right and the riddle is solved.'

'As you say Cptn,' replied the Sergeant wearily.

'Music to my ears Sergeant, then all is well, make a note of the section and lets proceed.'

The two men marched down the corridor and Darion could hear the Captain's lecture continue unabated until there was silence again.

He learned a great deal about where he was from the brief conversation. There was shortly to be a ceremony, in a city called Mesania, that he was apparently in the bowels of. Most importantly it seemed soon the city would be filled with thousands of visitors from surrounding regions which could allow him to pose as a visitor rather than as an trespasser at least until he could decide on a plan of action to firstly find Isaac and then the old man.

He walked up the path taking more confident strides now he knew his situation had improved from desperate to hopeless. The sergeant said 'five sectors.' Darion did not know how far that actually was but he did know it was within walking distance which was gratifying. The promise of food and water forced him forward because he was tired beyond belief, filthy and lonely.

After about twenty minutes of steady ascent he noticed the artificial lights in the tunnel fading and being overwhelmed by a more powerful, natural light from around the next bend. He stopped to tuck his shirt into his filthy pants and ran his fingers through his hair with one hand, and brushing the remainder of the dirt from his shirt and pants which only marginally improved his appearance. He marched purposefully so as to appear as if he was familiar with the surrounds.

The tunnel ended abruptly in what Darion could only describe as an enormous mall. It was still enclosed in rock but appeared to be lit and ventilated by giant flumes and shafts that drove straight up through the roof until they became tiny pinpricks of blue in the distance. So many shafts pocketed the roof they easily lit the entire area and it was only then Darion realised he must have slept far longer in the tunnel than he had thought as it appeared a new day had dawned while he slept. He stared at the roof and the mighty columns of light. Nothing like this existed on Earth and it further confirmed he was not part of some illusion conjured by the eccentric old man. He had left his planet.

The conversation in the tunnel told him there was a meeting place called the Convecticle and he thought this as good a place as any to start his search for Isaac. He walked boldly through the doorway and tried to look inconspicuous stopping as a throng of people rushed past him. Scores of people dressed in grey slacks and brown shirts tucked tightly into their belted pants commuted up and down the length of the mall disappearing in and out of the many corridors joining onto the main area. Shop vendors traded clothes of similar colours and design hanging on racks both in and outside their tents displaying a variety of sizes happily none matching the giant figures in his cave. In a scene not unlike a middle eastern bazaar hundreds of tents, banners and a variety of traders, were bartering loud and purposefully while preparing food and encouraging shoppers to inspect trinkets. Street performers from painters to jugglers littered the many paths and open spaces and the smells of the hot strips of meat roasting in portable braziers made his parched mouth water. He had an overwhelming desire to grab a handful of the nameless foods and stuffing them in his mouth.

He noticed almost immediately the stares from the passers by. If he thought he could merely meld into the crowd he was greatly mistaken. He could not have looked more conspicuous if he ran naked and screaming through he mall.

His clothes proved to be a problem. Each person he saw wore the same banal fashion, the greys and browns blending them in to the colours of the mountain. As he looked more closely he noticed each right arm of the people were covered from wrist to elbow in different coloured amulets etched with waves of rings and curves, Some bright blue, others purple, and others dark greens or shining yellow. The design was the same for each, but numbers differed. The least numerous seemed to be people with black amulets who also wore black cowls and stood somewhat imperiously over the rest.

Ignoring the stares he received, Darion continued his march when he began observing what he thought to be a hierarchy of importance based on the colour of the amulets. The pale green and white invariably stood aside to allow those wearing yellow, blue, purple and black to pass. Similarly those in blue deferred to those in purple with the few wearing black allowed free range of movement, confident everyone else would stand aside.

Although initially appearing chaotic, Darion could see a rhythm in the movement of the crowd. Each commuter travelled at a good speed with not one body bouncing off another as is so common in crowds he is used to. As the superior colour approached, the lessor would make way and then resume the journey. He smiled to himself as he saw the logic to it all. The higher the colour, the higher the importance. By far the least numerous were the handful of black amuleted people both men an women strolling around the shops ignorant of those around them ducking a weab=ving out of their way. The greater proportion of the populace seemed to wear yellow, white and pale greens. The blacks would travel in any line they preferred and the others would defer to them.

His naked arm caused confusion to more than one passer by who did not seem to know if they should let him pass or walk past him. He quickly moved out of the maelstrom of people and into an alcove as he was creating a chaos of traffic. The collision of bodies he caused quickly sorted themselves out among some curses and threats he didn't exactly understand although the inference was clear.

'From where have you sojourned stranger?' asked a voice next to Darion making him jump. He turned around sharply and was greeted by the smiling face of a young man no older than himself, who wore the vivid yellow arm band he saw in the mall. The man's friendly grin disarming Darion immediately.

'From a long way away friend,' said Darion, keen not to speak too much too soon as he had no idea of what linguistic protocols existed here. He also did not want to create too elaborate a lie difficult to sustain. He decided to let the speaker do the asking of the questions for the moment and he would react as best he could. So far he gave away nothing about himself and it was most certainly true he indeed came from a long way away.

The young man chuckled, 'That appears self evident judging by your exotic dress and bare arm. I pride myself on some particular skills in geography so do not be afraid to name a place as I know all the cities even if I have never visited them.'

Darion sensed he needed to take care, it was just his luck to have an expert question him but he thought he would take a gamble, after all, he had literally nothing to lose.

'I would hardly call where I come from a city friend, more like a very small township two days journey past the great mountain.'

The young man's eyes widened noticeably.

'You have come from beyond the Ice Mountain?' asked the young man. 'You must tell me all there is to tell, as there would be adventure for any travelling that path. Tell me is the mountain really made of ice and so smooth you can see your reflection in its walls and do the great white bears number in the thousands and do the winged ones fly around the summit day and night looking for meals of young maidens and can you see the world from the peak?'

Darion could see his attempt at keeping to simple truths was impossible and unless he interrupted the young man he would have a hundred questions to answer and a hundred lies to remember.

'Wait, wait,' said Darion holding his hand up, 'you have asked a mouthful and I would be happy to answer in full, but as you can see the road has not been kind to me and I am in great need of some food and drink before I perish right before your very eyes and you will have to go to the Ice Mountain yourself and wrestle with the bears for your answers.'

Darion felt proud of the way he managed to slip into the formal language of the young inquisitor.

'Of course, how impolite, please let me provide for you and then perhaps you could honour me with some brief tales of your journey,' said the young man still smiling. 'My name is Le Bow and my family live not far from here in the Lesser Ships. Please come if you have some free moments, you are obviously here for the Ceremony, but if you have no other prior engagements we would be honoured with your presence in more salubrious surrounds.'

Darion knew he could tell a story as well as the next person but to a room full of people where each lie could unmask him as a fraud seemed particularly dangerous. At the very least he would be fed and rested before he was jailed, so he gratefully accepted.

'I would be most pleased to accept and I hope my feeble life may be of some interest. My name is Darion and I don't mind telling you Le Bow I am very eager to just sit somewhere quiet for a few minutes.'

Le Bow's smile widened and he jumped forward impelling Darion with him as he zigged and zagged through the crowd. Once out in the open, Darion could see Le Bow's yellow amulet and he prepared himself for the now expected stoppages to allow the higher orders to pass. Le Bow however seemed oblivious to the conventions and ducked and weaved among the throng of people never once needing to stop. Darion could see the young man's strategy. He would search ahead every few paces and ensure he took paths which would avoid contact with the higher orders. Darion found it difficult to keep up to the young man's sharp reflexes as he bounded from left to right, in and out of corridors, the whole time making remarkable progress.

Within a few minutes they exited the mall and moved into a smaller, less congested side tunnel. The pair rushed along for a few more minutes and down several more tunnels, each smaller than its predecessor.

'We're almost there,' called Le Bow over his shoulder at a puffing Darion. Le Bow stopped in front of a lamp similar to the ones Darion extinguished earlier and pushed gently against the adjoining wall. With little noise the door opened to reveal a well lit and comfortable looking room quite capable of holding a party of thirty. He motioned for Darion to enter and sit in a cushioned chair as he disappeared into an annexure.

Darion collapsed into the chair relieved to finally be sitting somewhere safe. With much clanging of plates and cutlery, Le Bow returned a few minutes later, arms filled with assorted breads and pies, and a pitcher of clear water. He deposited it all on a small table and stood smiling towards Darion.

'The others do not appear to be here. Please have some refreshments and I will return presently.'

Le Bow left the room and Darion launched into the food and drink trying to restrain himself from gorging lest he become ill. He drained the pitcher of water immediately and felt instantly refreshed. The pies were a salty mixture of what tasted like beef but looked like chicken and smelled like lamb, but delicious none the less. Le Bow also provided several different types of cheeses and a fresh loaf of fruit bread all of which being far superior to the crumbs Darion expected he would find from the scrounging he had planned.

When he finished eating he sank back into the soft cushions and moments later fell asleep.

He woke gradually and found himself in a large and comfortable bed, the blankets and sheets tucked closely about his shoulders, his head sunk low into the downy pillows. Still not fully awake, he thought his whole adventure to date was a dream.

'Awake at last,' said a pleasant and soft female voice from a chair in the corner.

'You sleep like a fleeing villain who has found some unexpected sanctuary.'

Darion lay speechless as he watched a girl sit forward and examine him. She had an oval face and full red lips smiling at him compassionately. Her deep blue eyes pierced him and her long brown hair cascaded like a river over her tiny shoulders. Darion could not take his eyes off her. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and part of his muteness came from the fact beautiful women, or women of any sort for that matter, rarely spoke to him and never in such a playful manner. It was moments like these that he wished that he looked and sounded like Isaac.

'Who are you?' he asked lamely.

'Oh, it speaks,' she said teasingly. 'I was told you have bountiful stories to share from the outside world, but so far all I have heard are some snores and snuffles.'

Darion grinned and clumsily tried getting out of bed until a quick look under the covers showed an acute nakedness. The young woman giggled gaily at the look on Darion's face.

'Don't worry, your clothes are safe. I just thought they needed cleaning as you seem to have brought most of the dust from your journey with you. You have very strange apparel where you come from Darion. I found it most difficult extracting you from your pants until I discovered what that long metal clip was for.'

Darion flushed a bright red.

'Did you take my clothes?' he asked sheepishly.

'Why of course,' she replied. 'I will see if they are ready.' She started to leave the room and when she reached the door looked back briefly.

'I think I would like to see more of you Darion, if that is possible.'

She giggled as she threw him a sultry wink of her gorgeous eyes making Darion's heart thump so hard he thought it would split his sternum.

He dropped his head back on the pillows and blew a long breath out of his mouth.

'What just happened.' He said out loud.

What seemed like an hour later, Le Bow's head appeared around the corner and he entered carrying a bundle of folded clothes.

'You're awake, good. You slept the entire night away Darion. Your travels must have exhausted all your reserves. Here are your clothes, I took the liberty of relieving you of them while you slept. I hope you approve.'

'You took my clothes?' asked Darion comprehension slowly dawning on him.

'I hope that was appropriate, I did not mean to offend.'

'Not at all, I am very grateful for your help Le Bow, it is just that a young woman I met in here earlier told me she took them and I don't mind telling you I felt more than a little embarrassed.'

'Young girl you say, yes that would be correct, it was my sister Le Carra, she took a great interest in you the moment I mentioned our acquaintance. Ignore her Darion she is mischievous little sprite and quite manipulative if you let her be. She tends to like getting her own way and can become quite churlish if she doesn't.'

'I'd imagine she would get her own way often,' said Darion.

Le Bow laughed again. It seemed to Darion that he was just about the happiest soul he had ever met.

'Yes Darion, she has a certain way about her and can at times be annoying.'

Darion felt comfortable with Le Bow but was still guarded in what he needed to say to his new friend. Before he committed himself to some fanciful story he thought he would find some more answers.

'Tell me Le Bow, my sense of time seems to have deserted me along with my clothes. Can you tell me when the ceremony will take place as I am supposed to meet a country man of mine and he too does not know the city? We have only heard rumour of this great city and have never travelled here before.'

Darion felt safe he would not cause too much suspicion from quite legitimate questions from a new arrival.

'Why Darion, I would take you to the Convecticle myself of course. You are unlikely to know what position I hold in the city. For the next two months at least I, and others of my rank, have been engaged to intercept and entertain any newcomers to the city from the Peripheries. So you see, our meeting was not exactly accidental. I saw the confusion you caused in the markets and left to your means a major traffic flow problem would have ensued. As part of my charter I suppose I am meant to keep you out of trouble if that is not being too offensive?'

'Not at all,' said Darion with obvious relief in his voice. 'Where I come from we also ensure things run smoothly during festivals and we use what we call 'Police' to keep the peace.'

'Police,' mused Le Bow. 'That is an interesting term. Yes. I am a police for two months.'

He laughed out loud.

'Get dressed friend Darion and I will show you some of the sights of this great city of Mesania and while you come from fanciful places yourself, I am certain you will find my city spectacular. But first, do you have accommodations?'

'I am afraid not Le Bow, I hoped you would help me find some.'

'Better still, you will stay with me. You still owe me some stories and besides I think my sister would insist.' He gave Darion an elbow in the ribs causing him to blush from his neck to his cheeks.

The two men left Le Bow's rooms and headed back to the market place where they again dodged and weaved through traffic until they reached an enormous spiral staircase winding in ever decreasing circles like a absurd molecule hundreds of feet into the roof of the mountain.

'This is a most extraordinary construction,' said Darion as he looked unhappily at the climb. 'Your people are remarkable engineers.'

Le Bow furrowed his eyebrows. 'But surely you know we did not build this. Your town must be far removed from the rest of the world to not know the teachings of the Jharnell, the Book Of Lore.'

Darion knew he was on unsteady ground. He kicked himself for not thinking clearly. He need only remember the giant trophy room to realise the original inhabitants were giants and not people of Le Bow's species. Le Bow's people somehow came to occupied the mountain and did not construct the city. He did his best to cover his mistake.

'My people are simple farmers Le Bow and have no knowledge of anything except the seasons and when to plant and harvest. In fact I came to Mesania without the good wishes of my family. They think travel is a frivolous endeavour when the fields are in harvest.'

'This is not good at all Darion. We must stop at once and find some empty chambers where I can at least give you a précis of Mesanian history. It is vital, of greatest paramounce. We will get bowls of fruits, breads and cheeses and you will listen in awe. I am afraid your tales are going to have to wait, your education must come first.'

Darion noticed his friend had stopped laughing obviously considering this a serious matter. He watched Le Bow scramble in and out of different recesses looking for a vacant one. He was quite literal in his desire to start immediately.

With Le Bow as his instructor and his farming alibi credible, Darion felt confident he could find out all he needed to know and thus begin his search for Isaac and the old man.

'So what do you know?' started Le Bow as he pulled a knife from a hidden scabbard and began cutting into what appeared to be a blue banana.

'Not too much evidently,' said Darion carefully. 'Perhaps you should start at the beginning or give me the Jharnell to read while I am here.'

'No, it is not that simple. The Seeress and the Blacks keep the Book to themselves and only by special audience will they permit you a viewing. They guard it jealously. We are all however educated at an early age as to its contents. It is a wonderful history Darion, our race was quite spectacular at one point,' he dropped some banana into his mouth and kept talking. 'Today we have few enemies and none powerful enough to disturb us, so we grow fat and indolent, preferring to enjoy ceremonies and feasting in our idleness. But such is the destiny of victors. How though can we enjoy our victory when there are none left to challenge it. It seems a hollow supremacy. I sometimes yearn for the old days when men from all the Ships would prove themselves in battle and by doing so escape the boundaries of their birth rank.'

Le Bow became morose and contemplative but soon remembered his audience.

'I am sorry Darion, I should not speak so, especially to a stranger. I should be grateful for my lot. I sometimes feel however I can do much more with my life. You see, I am born to the yellow rank of menial labourers and will never leave the Lesser Ships except for visits. I will die of this rank as will my children and their children's children and there is nothing I can do to alter this fact. Even my sister, who I think you have noticed is of a singular beauty, the flower of the Lesser Ships, coveted by the higher orders, will marry within her rank and so the line is perpetuated. Only through honour in battle can we escape our place in the hierarchy. But I digress, let me speak of other things, some dark and others happy.' Le Bow handed Darion a knife and an oval purple and green fruit he looked at suspiciously.

'You marvelled at the Staircase and I too, even though I have seen it countless thousands of times, am still in awe at its magnitude. There is none other like it. An army of men could line the steps and still be able to travel freely along it with room at either end.

Le Bow took a deep breath and continued. 'It was almost a thousand years ago to the day when we came to this part of the world. Great ships carrying hordes of my people alighted on the beaches of Salnikov and marched eastwards in search of new beginnings. We were a people in exile Darion, our lands ravaged and scoured by a nameless evil that still haunts the bravest man's dreams. A single beast we give it no name, but you must know it. It is the enemy of all things who exist in freedom. A living horror of flame and fang, the destroyer of all and impossible to resist. Our greatest warriors were killed by the nightmare and the survivors were left to fend for ourselves. Farmers and bakers, shop stewards and tailors all mingling together and all bearing arms some for the first time in their lives. We fled the monster's wrath and travelled across the oceans in search of a new home, where we could find peace and succour.

We disembarked from the ships and shouldered our meagre belongs and moved off the beach as quickly as possible still feeling the eyes of evil on us from afar. It was a long march and we did not know the way but in the distance we spied the Ice Mountain and always used it as a beacon of hope and a target for our focus. Days passed and many perished along the way. The aged and infirmed, the young and many of our women could not bear the hardships. Our exodus totalled one hundred thousand and we lost more than half along the way, their bones scattered to the winds as we could often not afford a stoppage for proper burial in our flight.

We found hostility everywhere we went. Although now Darion you live in fertile farming region to the West but back then the lands appeared barren and sterile and the beasts who roamed here we found different from our own and vicious beyond description. But always we headed to the Ice Mountain in the distance an omen of hope.

Eventually we reached the mountain's feet and felt safe for a time until they came. Evil as terrible and foul as the one we fled from. Winged beasts Darion, horned heads and clawed feet sweeping down from the heights and dropping on our host. Some of my people were slaughtered where they stood and others were carried away for who knows what purpose. Horrors unimaginable. The people wailed, 'why did we leave only to be slaughtered by flying nightmares in alien parts.'. Le Bow was now standing his hands clenched into fists.

'But worse came. The snow bears joined the melee and killed more, tearing into their flesh where they lay. We were lost Darion. Lost. Our end inevitable, we faced extinction as a peoples. But then it happened. Out of the ashes of our defeat rose one man forever hailed as 'Saviour'. He took up a great sword and rallied our people. He led us into battle and he fought like a thousand men. Darion, his sword hummed as it bit into our enemies. The Saviour rallied us and we answered his call. Our soldiers led the way but so too did our cobblers and our bakers and our masons. They all fought side by side. No Lesser or Greater Ships, no colours, no gender. Together we fought, for verily it was our future that was the prize. We are a proud people and slow to anger, but here we fought with all our power, led by the great Saviour and our enemies fled in terror at our wrath. It was the second greatest victory in our history and the day we came of age as a people.'

The whole story transfixed Darion. He watched tears stream down Le Bow's cheeks, as he stood straight, proud and tall. The effect so powerful, Darion struggled with his own emotions.

'After our victory we took counsel together. We had reached the Ice Mountain but could not remain in such a brutal environment, so we treated our wounded as best we could and continued east, looking for free land to settle. After a week's march a forest appeared and we took care not to separate from each other. Somehow the canopy of trees calmed our fears and the trek became bearable. For days we meandered through the green sea nearly fifty thousand strong living off the plentiful fruits of the forest. We made crude but comfortable camps and for a time we felt safe again.

The Saviour led the way of course, always our champion, the reason we survived thus far, but one day we awoke with a terrible trepidation in our minds. The very air around us seemed to shimmer with the heat of our fear, striking down even the bravest of our people.

Again the Saviour whispered soft and strong words of encouragement and protection.

He pushed us onwards, past our fears, and eventually through the forest until finally we came to an enormous hollow. A hundred leagues across. A giant circle of clearing and in its middle the most beautiful sight in creation. The giant mesa you sit within. Granite slopes radiating light, shining like the sun's rays, lighting the world in a cloud of silver. We were drawn towards it and to a desperate and despondent people it looked like a sanctuary of hope.

Our march continued until an urgency seemed to sting us to move quicker. Have you ever seen a crowd panic Darion? A stampede is more accurate. The gossamer bonds the Saviour wounds around us snapped in an instant. We fled in all directions, terrified beyond our senses of something we could not even see. The greater number of us ran swiftly towards the Mesa but not quick enough, for within seconds, out of the sky came our nightmare. It landed in a thunderclap and stood eyeing us with a macabre pleasure in its chilly smile freezing the blood in our veins and an aching in our bones.

It looked even greater than before, dwarfing us all. It shot a plume of smoke and fire in one direction incinerating a thousand men in an instant. It clawed at their burning remains and with its terrible cleaver sliced through many hundreds more.

Nothing could withstand Darion. The very ground it stood on crumbled and split in protest at having such a foul thing trespass upon it. And then he was there. The Saviour, who alone could resist the beast. They fought a mortal battle, the clash of sword and cleaver deafening. Whole trees toppled at every contact, clouds of black soot hung above them. For each deadly sweep of the giant cleaver, the Saviour parried with a strength and deftness infuriating the monster until it became uncontrollable with rage. It struck harder and harder each strike weakening our Saviour. Who could withstand such an onslaught? Two deadly strokes weilded by the beast almost cleaved our Saviour head to toe but again he managed to absorb the attack. His eyes filled with dismay and then to our eternal grief we saw him flee.

Women wept and men were screaming for him to return but in vain as the Saviour disappeared into the forest. In this instant we were defenceless and awaited our finality. Surely the beast would end us here as the prize for defeating our champion. But no. To our amazement it ignored us as if the slaughter and carnage were a mere prelude to the true battle. The beast followed the Saviour into the forest in a blaze of fire, setting trees alight with each footstep. Explosions slowly abating and disappearing into the west.

This was the last anyone heard of either of them Darion. Did he survive? Surely not, but if not then why did not the beast come back to finish us off and if the Saviour was victorious then why did he not return to our acclamation and worship? The enigmas of the day are still discussed with passion around tables in all the houses in all the Ships a thousand years after the event. My own opinion, as humble as it may be, is that they annihilated each other, dying at the end of the others weapons.'

Le Bow fell silent and sat down, his brow covered in sweat, the story taking a physical toll on him. Darion thought him lost in a type of prayer, if that is what these people, like his own, do in times of distress. After a few moments Le Bow seemed newly invigorated, his eyes shining bright in the half light of the room.

'But I have yet to answer your earlier questions friend. Where did the Stairs come from? The beast left as did the Saviour and all around there was fire and confusion. A great portion of the forest had erupted into flame effectively blocking any retreat so forward we moved. The Mesa had a presence now holy to us, a spiritual aura calling. It looked to be a natural home with the inbuilt defence of its isolation. We were afraid and did not want to be afraid again. We saw security and a future only previously we could not imagine possible. As the beast left our physical environment the people felt a great lightness of heart and we rallied for each other. The roof of the Mesa was our goal. We sent out scouts to search for paths and they quickly returned with stories of great easements wending their way up and across the granite walls of the mesa, ever upwards until they disappeared into the clouds.

We were depleted Darion but still a formidable number and although exhausted, my people have an essence that cannot be quelled. Our resilience sustained us as we took our final steps to freedom. We climbed in great numbers and found little flora or fauna to inhibit us, the starkness of the cliffs curiously calming our fears because any enemies could not secrete themselves.

After hours we found a vast ledge that to this day has been lost in antiquity. We could stand hundreds of men on it and the vista towards our ancient homes in the West made some openly weep. Below the forest blazed and in the distance the bleakness of the Ice Mountain chilling our bones and on the horizon, glimmering many leagues away, the ocean, fare welling us forever.

The ledge sat on the side of an enormous cavern eating into the mountain. We struck many lamps and ventured inside exploring each corner. We marvelled at sights before us as the darkness fell away. Beautifully polished floors and walls, wonderful tapestries and art but all of an oversized nature. We knew we needed to meet the occupants and throw ourselves on their mercy and perhaps live in a peaceful co existence. We had nothing to offer them in return. Refugees from war torn parts exhausted, pitiful and desperate for a benevolent tenant.'

Le Bow was pacing the room, his hands and arms pointing and waving, his instruction now a soliloquy, forgetting Darion existed. 'After only a short period our presence was detected. We heard huge horns tumultuously ringing and filling the caverns. Our emotions swung between fear and excitement. My people thought that surely these were horns of welcome. They could not have been more wrong. Within minutes the cavern filled with giant men. Huge forms carring axes, cleavers and swords. Horned caps covered their heads and they stood twice as high as our tallest warrior. Hundreds of them teemed into the cavern and began another slaughtering our people.

No one was exempt. Women, children and the aged all dispatched with cold indifference. No quarter was offered my people as their blood began to run in rivers. But unlike the evil that drove us from our homes and the evil that swooped from the mountains these creatures were men, oversize to be sure, but men nonetheless and men who could bleed. If they could bleed we knew we could battle them.

Le Bows focu returned and he locked eyes with Darion. 'Darion, I have never heard of our people since in such a mood. It was as if all the injustices ever perpetrated against us, every murder and every injury needed to be avenged instantly. We took up our arms and defended ourselves. We fought as a great organism, thousands of people wielding their weapons in unison cutting down our enemy and cursing them as they fell.

We forced them back into the bowels of the mountain, driving them like cattle into the matrix of caves within. Finally there was a last stand of giant and man in a vast hall. The battle waged for hours with neither side calling for clemency. The floors filled with crimson blood and screams of despair and victory bellowed and bounced off the walls and still the fighting continued. Finally we threw down our weapons and our people looked around them. The creatures were utterly defeated. They lay in their hundreds bleeding and dead, an obscene mountain of flesh including many, many of our own.' Le Bow released a deep breath and slumped into a chair.

Have you ever seen a battle field Darion? The tale is well remembered and accounted in our Lore and in the Jharnell particularly the scenes my people recalled of the field of victory. Brave men screamed as they entered their death throes, pleading to be killed to relieve their pain. Others died silently, their life leaking out of them and onto the hard stones. Some of the wounded could not be mended so great was the damage done to them and this was especially so with the giants with whom we had no knowledge to tend them. These we euthanised as we had no medicine and others less injured we treated with care and caution but ultimately they too died.

In our search of the thousands of bodies for survivors we found the greatest of losses. The son of our long dead queen, herself killed by the beast in our homelands, lay cold and still on the granite. He was the last of our royal lineage. Only a boy in his mid master years but with him went the last vestiges of our ruling line and it is how the blacks came to power curse them.' Le Bow spat on the ground.

'With heavy hearts we piled the bodies in great pyres and filled deep pits with these gross obscenities. Two great mounds of the enemy and an equally repugnant one of our own people. We could not bury them, how do you bury in stone and our future was still not assured. This may have only been the vanguard of a giant army. We could not cremate as we had little means of sustained fire. No, we could only make the cavern an eternal crypt for the dead. When all had settled and the mountain was ours we planned to send back masons to seal the crypt and artisans to paint the walls of the caverns in remembrance. What a mournful job that would be creating beauty amongst such devastation and rottenness. The tomb however was lost to us and to this day we have been unable to find a trace of it. So we left the dead with little ceremony and escaped the great hall through doors we found in the rocks.

A thousand years has passed and the land has been rocked by quake, flood and fire and many times reshaped by tectonic shifts and the cavern has never been found. Even within the last few days rumblings and explosions have been heard deep in the Mesa. We have often searched for the battlefield, to find the bones of our people and give them proper burial, but alas to date it has been fruitless.

So there you have some of our tragic and heroic history. You stand in awe of the magnitude of Mesania which was built by stronger hands than ours. We did not create merely conquer, an endeavour lauded in our history even by myself however there is a part of me ashamed of a victory where we annihilated another race, especially one holding such romanticism to me. Giants. Would it not be an adventure to meet a giant. Alas, genocide is nothing to be proud of.'

Darion guessed some of the story from the murals and the residue of the battle in the cavern. He did not know why, but he thought it best at this stage to remain silent about the caves. He knew he could find the entrance again if necessary and this knowledge may help him at a later date if he needed a quick exit strategy.

He was impressed with the intellect of the young man in front of him. Le Bow was a thinker and despite what he said about being part of a caste of menial labourers, as a man he did not appear to merely accept things as fact. He could see the defeat of the giants as necessary and could even defend the actions as self defence but still could see the demise of the giants, at the very least, was a horrific result.

'It is a wonderful story,' said Darion finally. 'You tell it with skill and passion I thank you for sharing it with me.'

Darion bowed low to Le Bow and acknowledged to himself how easily he slipped into the mannerisms of the Mesanians, so much so, he thought the odd bow or two may make him even more credible. He was not prepared for Le Bow's response.

Le Bow took Darion's hand and kissed it.

'That is the greatest compliment that anyone can give. You either know our customs well or our races may not be dissimilar, even though we are separated by many leagues.'

'As a friend once told me Le Bow, there are things called good manners and they are equally as important anywhere you travel.'

'The friend is wise,' said Le Bow.

Darion felt comfortable with Le Bow. Considering his circumstances he was fortunate to find the young man. He now had a guide and mentor in the customs and geography of the land who would be invaluable in the days to come as he tried to locate Isaac and find a way home.
" _There are those who believe evil_

only exists in others but if we all think

such then surely evil exists in the speake also"

Jharnell 3/523/526
Chapter 4

'Arad the Generous,' announced the Aeserian to the sentry at the main gates of Salnikovia. 'Returned from the Shores with a bounty Hammer will be very interested in.'

Isaac heard the gates creak open but had no view other than some clouds and fading blue sky peaking in from the top of his cage as they bounced past the sentry.

He bumped along with the giant for close to two days with the sun now setting for a second time since his capture. The giant said nothing to him during the trip. Isaac tried to get his attention on several occasions, but the giant completely ignored him seemingly obsessed with getting to the city without delay.

Isaac marvelled at the giant's resilience. He did not break stride the whole journey and jogged steadily, covering an enormous distance very quickly. Isaac however struggled to keep himself balanced regularly crashing against walls of the box accumulating a large array of bumps and bruises across most of his body. The solitude did however give him time to think. Arad dropped morsels of food through the roof as he ran, which alleviated Isaac's immediate hunger and with that satisfied he became more concerned about any meeting he would have with this 'Hammer the Exalter.'

From the little Arad had said, Isaac concluded there existed a race of people called 'Invaders' who Arad certainly did not like. It took Isaac only short steps in logic to realise at some stage in history, the giants had been bested by the Invaders, who seemingly were of Isaac's own stature, and to this day the giants did not seem happy about it. As such, he saw his position becoming even more untenable unless he could find some way to escape or he might not see another day to its end.

Isaac tried once again to gain Arad's attention.

'You know Arad,' he yelled. 'You don't seem the Generous type to me. I mean surely the generous thing to do would be to release me because it looks like Hammer will make my life a little uncomfortable.'

Arad stopped for the first time since the campsite and spoke directly to Isaac.

'How dare you question my Generosity Invader, consider rather I am generous in keeping you alive this long rather than kill you immediately you trespassed on our lands which is my right.'

Round one to the giant thought Isaac.

'Perhaps so, but if generosity is the measure of your honorific, then shouldn't you be overtly more generous than the average of your race.'

'I am,' said Arad. 'Because the average would have killed you already and presented your carcass to Hammer.'

Round two to Arad thought Isaac who knew he struggled for parity in this relationship.

'OK so you are generous, you win, but as the epitome of generosity aren't you almost required to instill some of that generous spirit in others and thereby increasing the sum generosity of your people and if that is so then wouldn't it be almost negligent of you to hand me over to someone who will be manifestly ungenerous towards me?'

This time Arad did not answer and stood silently, considering the question carefully. Isaac's strategy relied on the integrity of this being he had little knowledge of. He guessed honour defined Arad the Generous, and hopefully this may be enough.

'You're argument is compelling,' said Arad after a time. 'And now you have left me in a dilemma. My loyalty to my race versus the generosity I must show towards all things. It is a difficult conundrum. Do you realise what will become of me if I let you free. High treason Invader, abetting the enemy and thereby making me an enemy also. Banishment and ridicule and all so I can protect my name. Do you think it worth it Invader, or more importantly, do you think that I think it worth it?'

Arad fell silent and Isaac thought himself no better off. Why would someone risk banishment to protect him. Arad kept still for a long moment. The sun dropped below the mountains and a twilight descended, making his cage now bleak and dark. Isaac could not think how to progress from here.

Arad struggled. The debate he conducted with himself tore at his moral fibre. He could not aid the escape of an enemy of the state, and he knew all to well Hammer would make an example of this Isaac and kill him in as public a domain as possible once he stripped him of all knowledge. His own folly at listening to the creature in the box became evident to him.

'Very well,' he said. 'You are free.' Isaac felt himself being lowered to the ground and the roof of the cage being removed. Two enormous hands reached in and lifted him effortlessly out of the box and placed him gently on the ground. Isaac stood looking around him and trying to fathom the world he now escaped into. In an instant he felt the magnitude of the city. Buildings of smooth rock shooting thousands of meters into the sky looking as if they had been carved out of the natural rock of the region. Sleek and elegant, as flawless as glass. Roads made of stones the size of a bus, reflecting light from a multitude of lamps shining from nearly every window.

Initially Isaac thought the spires looked like mere minarets, more for adornment and decoration than practical use but he now saw each one teemed with life as hundreds of giants busily travelled up and down the many stairs he could spy through the oblong and oval windows. As he scanned the street he saw many other giants sitting in quite conversation no as yet noticing his presence. Behind the spires, the majestic mountain range he saw from the campsite stretched straight and high, snow covered ragged peaks and a necklace of dark clouds masking their true height. Lightening burst across the sky and for moments the city would shine with a flash of brilliance.

Carts as large as houses dragged by teams of hybrid horses slightly larger than the horses Isaac knew but still not large enough for even a jockey sized giant trundled along the many carriageways exuding smells of both foods and bulging with wares.

'What are you waiting for?' said Arad. 'I have granted you liberty but now you appear reluctant to accept it.' He smiled ruefully as he glared at Isaac.

'No hurry,' said Isaac. 'Before I go, can you at least tell me what the name of this city is?'

'You are an odd little man Invader, you claim to know some things about us however in even the most rudimentary of issues you claim ignorance. I will play one last game with you as it is likely to be the last for both of us. Some call this place The City as we have only one, your people saw to that. It has the official name of Salnikovia.'

'How do I get out of here?'

'That is not my problem Invader, I have now several more pressing ones I need to deal with as a result of this action.'

'I'm sorry Arad but I don't follow you.'

'Then listen carefully because my patience with you is almost exhausted.' Arad looked around the City with a twinkle in his eye absorbing the scenery as if it were the last thing he would see.

'You questioned my Generosity little man and whether I wear the term rightly. Well, I have released you. You may be crushed a thousand times by either man or beast or indeed be recaptured by one of my less generous brethren. Whether this is so or not, my obligation to you has ceased. You are now left to your own devices and use it well because any other Aeserian who captures you will surely present you to Hammer.'

Isaac immediately crouched down low and searched for somewhere to hide, feeling far too exposed out in the open. Although released he knew if discovered his position would worsen quickly. He needed to escape the city and try to conjure some sort of strategy to remain alive. He took a few steps when Arad's booming voice stopped him.

'Your race is to be despised,' bellowed Arad. 'So self absorbed, so ignorant of others. Do you know the full importance of what is to become of your benefactor?'

An angry Arad did not wait for a reply.

'I mentioned banishment but this is only the half of it. You may not care little man but I will extol to you the virtue and integrity of the Aeserian race. I will now go to find The Hammer whom is by now expecting me to supply him with great news. He is in the middle of a banquet, a forum of our people and he will think this great timing to receive a gift. What I carry however is a crime against my people. I have released a subversive in the city. A great act of treason and one in which I am well aware of the punishment.'

'Surely they won't kill you?' said Isaac, suddenly stunned he may be responsible for Arad's death. Although understanding nothing of their legal system Isaac could not help but like the big giant and certainly respected his ethos.

The giant laughed coldly.

'We do not have Judgements resulting in death although I am sure you do. We do not kill each other. It has only ever happened once. It is our greatest law and so entrenched in our life the mere suggestion is offensive. No, I will not be killed. I will be exiled which I can accept. They will however strip me of my title which I cannot accept. My life as it has been to this moment will cease. All matters relating to me will be expunged from the City archives and it will be as if I never existed. My only hope lies in my people not allowing this Judgement to be made. That has never happened with such a charge. The irony does not escape me. By demonstrating an act of supreme generosity to you, I lose my title of being most generous and at a time when the Aeserian people are about to reclaim their ancient lands, ah it is tragic to me.'

A tear the size of a bucket load of water ran down Arad's cheek and splashed on the stones as he turned and walked towards the largest of the spires. A very large part of Isaac wanted to go with the giant and voluntarily throw himself on the mercy of the court. Another part however considered this as good as suicide and still a third part part of him thought it best to forget everything about Salnikovia and escape as soon as possible. He took a fourth alternative. He would follow Arad and see if he could help the giant without getting himself killed in the process.

Without the giant noticing, Isaac followed him up the steep and winding stones leading to the premier spire, the largest and most ornate of the cones sating majestically in the middle of the city. He made certain he remained hidden from sight behind the many pots, alcoves and crates lining the streets.

At times he saw giants speak to Arad, however he appeared to ignore them and continued trudging towards the spires, leaving a trail of quizzical faces behind him. Isaac found difficulty keeping pace with the giant's and would have certainly lost Arad had he not been travelling at such a mournful speed.

On several occasions he hid behind some large wooden vats encased in metal rings lining the streets, and when the giants were not in sight, he sidled along the smooth walls of the many single story buildings running like a skirting board around the larger of the spires. The craftsmanship of the structures amazed him. Each of the smaller buildings were made out of millions of tiny stones, all of the same dimension and perfectly aligned. Isaac could run his hand across the surface and it felt as smooth as glass and the glow from hundreds of lamps glistened off the shiny surfaces leaving a shower of light making the city incredibly beautiful.

'The City' as Arad called it, seemed at first glance to be enormous and randomly designed, however as he moved through it, he now saw purpose in the construction and while it certainly covered a vast horizontal space, it was its vertical nature he found intriguing with the spires scaling to heights unheard of in his experience. Isaac could not even guess what type of material could support such mass. It looked like polished granite, with no supporting metals of any sort and as stable as anything he found in his own world. Whole communities existed in each of the spires. Shopkeepers and assorted traders and vendors, taverns, meeting houses, all in a symmetrical and ordered fashion

As far as cities went he thought this one to be undoubtedly the neatest he had ever seen. Not a scrap of litter could be seen, no vagabonds or idlers, each person hurriedly engaging in their business. Although organised, the city did appear to be a trifle vanilla and cold with little greenery to break up the monotony of the granite. At least a bit of litter meant the occupants were not some automatons so constrained by rules they feared to break them. Or maybe they were conscious of the need for order and cleanliness.

Arad reached the entrance of the central spire and Isaac guessed this spire held the giant's equivalent of a government. Sentries stood posted around a high fence with an arched gate leading to a path through to the main entrance. The guards although dressed in battle regalia appeared more ceremonial than actually guarding the entrance, barely acknowledging Arad's passing as they continued in conversation to the side of the door. In the dimming light, Isaac felt confident the two big men would not notice him, especially if he timed his movement for when they both had their backs to the door. His heart started racing and a cold sweat beaded on his forehead as he saw Arad disappearing in the distance. He stopped himself from following when he heard the ramblings of a cart approaching.

The guards became sufficiently interested to saunter over and question the team leader. The cart was full of foods, the smells wafting tantalisingly in the air and the guards began lifting flaps and poking fingers into baskets, much to the consternation of the owner.

'Hey Hey. Git your fingers out,' protested the driver who appeared old but moved quickly. 'These are for Hammer's banquet, not for slugs like you.'

The guards smiled to each other and continued their picking when a large and evidently heavy cane came crashing down across their wrists causing yelps and crumbs, to spill from their mouths.

'There is plenty more where that came from now git, go on git,' shouted the old giant.

The many passers by laughed as the guards sheepishly retreated to their posts as the old man brought his cart through the entrance.

'Indolence,' he said. 'The city is full of paid sloths and you are supposed to protect me. Well I'll protect myself thank you very much.; The old giant snorted at the guards as he passed them causing another burst of laughter from those around him.

Without thinking Isaac darted out from his hiding space and under the rear axle of the cart using the wheels as cover. When the cart approached the spire it turned and headed to a smaller cluster of buildings that appeared to be a kitchen area with a great many giants frantically pushing trolleys and carrying platters of food to the banquet. Isaac waited until he found a darker part of the road and ran out from under the cart taking refuge in a dim recess trying to judge his next move. The courtyard he was in emptied into a path to the main doors of the premier spire and the whole area was teeming with giants.

Isaac lost sight of Arad in the throng although he knew he must have entered the Spire. The entrance was a short way ahead and he guessed and was lined with pennons of bright ensigns each flapping noisily in the evening breeze designating it to be a place of some importance.

Isaac started creepting along the edge of a wide corridor to the side of the path, hidden by deep rows of flowers in clay pots on either side as a steady flow of giants moved in the same direction, all heading for the banquet. The air was heavy despite the cool breeze and the mood sombre as if a storm was gathering and threatened to break right above him.

The oppression around him made Isaac more cautious. He ensured each time he needed to travel any short distance not covered by the planter boxes, he waited until he felt certain he could not be spied.

The crowd slowed as it approached a bottle neck at the entrance to what Isaac now saw was a large hall. Long lines of giants descended and ascended the many steps inside trying to find a seat until they converged in a cacophony of baritone voices complimenting the morose air around them. The crowd were patient and calm, each waiting their turn to enter the hall. Isaac smiled to himself when he thought of the many crowds he had been in at concerts or football matches where one always kept one hand free to push others and the other held tightly onto your wallet so you could get to your reserved seat eight seconds before the next person. Not for the first time he felt somewhat barbaric in this world.

The traffic of giants became so heavy he was forced to seek some refuge and wait until the crowd thinned. He retreated into a thick section of flower beds and decided to wait until the last giant disappeared into the great hall. He leant against a particularly soft stem and covered himself with some leaf litter for camouflage and without intending to, even amongst the surrounding chaos he drifted into a shallow sleep.

He woke suddenly not knowing for a few moments where he was. A deafening roar from the auditorium rippled through his clothes.

He poked his head out of the flower beds and saw the entrance now empty and the path deserted, the city appearing vacanl as giant crammed into the hall. Isaac crept towards the doorway and hugged the walls until he found some curtains he could hide behind. He peered out of a crack and through some giant legs and was surprised at how good the view was.

The room was shaped like a concert hall and he stood perched on the lip of what looked like an enormous salad bowl. Most of the giants sat in an orderly fashion in long pews with the remainder standing across the back wall. He was never very good at guessing numbers in large crowds but he estimated there were approximately five thousand giants, all focused on two figures on a stage area below, one who was definitely Arad and the other Isaac supposed was Hammer.

Hammer stood a head taller than Arad and was considerably broader across the shoulders. He was literally a giant among giants. He stood in full battle regalia of heavy boots, leather pants and a jerkin embroided by ring mail. His wrists were covered by large thick bangles with protruding spikes and his head covered by a horned skull cap. Across his back he wore a broadsword, but his defining feature was the giant sledge hammer leaning against his leg.

'What started as a celebration banquet has been supplanted by the most serious of gatherings,' boomed Hammer's voice across the hall.

The leader of the Aeserians stood with hands on hips, staring at a cowering and penitent Arad. The room became quiet as each giant listened to Hammer who moved to the front of the stage to exhibit his full magnificence, while behind him Arad sunk to his knees.

'Refugees of Salnikovia, I ask you to pass a Judgement!'

A collective gasp escaped the mouths of all the giants and a murmur began reverberating across the room as each giant conveyed his shock to those around him. Isaac listened carefully and picked up some of the comments out of the din.

A red headed giant just in front of him grabbed a companion by his shirt front.

'A Judgement. My father told me of a Judgement when he was a lad. There was only ever one in his lifetime and now we have one. What could Arad have done? He is a most respectable creature. I cannot believe he is so disgraced. What should we do?'

His companion merely shook his head slowly as if in shock and tried to calm the first giant with a pat on the shoulder as he strained to hear Hammer.

'It has been one hundred and seventy years since a Judgement has been made against one of our people and today I charge you all with this onerous duty. Once you hear the facts, as they have been reported to me by Arad the Generous, you will decide on his guilt.' Again the room rumbled with noise.

Arad remained on his knees with his head bowed, willing to accept the punishment ordained by his peers with resignation. Isaac felt his heart thumping. Arad spoke of exile and being stripped of his title and it appeared this decision lay first with his people.

Hammer stuck out a huge hand and all talk in the room ceased.

'The charges you are about to hear are so grave, I have decided to bypass the Judiciary and leave the decision in your hands, the people of Salnikovia.'

Again the crowd bubbled like a kettle drum with the red headed giant again grabbing his companion.

'What will happen? Arad the Generous is like a brother to me. He cannot have done wrong, I will not believe it, I cannot hear this.' He shook his head along with many of the other Aeserians, the noise quickly abating as Hammer spoke again.

'Soon my people, a day of reckoning will arrive. We have waited a thousand years and we have not been idle. We have rebuilt our strength and etched our harbours out of the stone. We have nursed and nurtured our families and restored ourselves to a place of strength and pride so as to eventually seek justice. To return to our forbear's ancestral homes and drive out the Invader.'

Hammer looked out over the crowd happy all the eyes and ears focused exclusively on him.

'All our plans could be in ruin due to the treasonous and treacherous acts of one of our own. Arad the Generous.'

'No,' cried many in the crowd including the red head. 'He is innocent,' cried others as they screamed their support, but Hammer would have none of it.

'Quiet,' he bellowed in a voice so powerful the walls rocked.'It will never be said Hammer the Exalter is not also Hammer the Source of Justice. I will lay down the charge and Arad the Generous can defend them with whatever vigour he can muster and then you will pass the Judgement. But let me be very clear. The security of the Empire is a stake and none of us, myself included, is above the collective needs of the people. Hear now and listen to the allocution from the mouth of he who committed the crime.'

Hammer commanded Arad to his feet and the giant stood facing the jury of his peers, his hair hanging wet and dank down his neck, the giant who wore his name so proudly reduced to a spectre of his former self in minutes.

Isaac waited to hear him speak with as much anticipation as all the giants. Isaac knew a confession from Arad equated to treason. Arad could pretend nothing happened, that he and Isaac never met, but such is the extraordinary virtue Isaac sensed in these people, such deception would never be considered. Isaac felt humbled as he listened to the giant.

'My people,' said Arad eventually. 'I do not ask for mercy only understanding, as what I have done I did with complete understanding of the repercussions. I was left, as you will see, with no choice. Two nights ago as I returned from visiting a brother at the Shores, I stumbled upon a creature. One I have only ever heard of in stories and never seen in person. A creature we have been schooled to despise. A tiny man. An Invader.'

The crowd erupted with an anger forcing Isaac to cower further behind the curtain. The red giant again grabbed the jerkin of his companion but this time in fury.

'They come again Minar the Loyal. They have crossed the desert. I will crush them on my own, I will rend them apart limb from limb. They come, they come.'

' Be calm Orlock the Subtle,' said Minar. 'We need to hear Arad's case.' But a long chant gained momentum from the crowd. 'They come, they come,' reverberating off the walls and rang so loud Isaac had to cover his ears.

'They come, They come.' The giants began stomping their feet and slapping their fists into wide hands with increasing violence until Hammer bellowed to calm them.

'Hear, Aeserians of Salnikovia. Hear, there is more.'

The Aeserians calmed as quickly as they roused and once again each strained to hear Arad's every word.

'I found only one and to me not a particularly striking example. He seemed alone and somewhat surprised at our existence. I caged him with the intention of bringing him to Hammer the Exalter to be dealt with by his wisdom and counsel and to perhaps find out more about our enemies. It is here in this very city where I committed my crime. Inside the gates of Salnikovia I realised the Invader to be free. I will say no more.'

'No,' came the collective reply as giants started looking down and around themselves expecting to find an Invader under their feet, which Isaac chuckled coldly he almost was.

Hammer again calmed the almost rioting crowd with three hefty blows of his sledge into the ground in front of him, the last sending a wide wedge across half the hall and causing two of the Aeserians closest to jump out of the way in case they fell in.

The crowd became as quiet and still as an impending storm, the rumblings just under the surface of a brooding silence.

'Continue Arad the Generous,' said Hammer. 'Defend yourself further, we are not in the habit of making frivolous and inaccurate Judgements. Give the facts as you see them.'

Arad looked up at the crowd. 'The Invader goes by the name of Isaac. He bewitched me somewhat with clever speech but ultimately I and no other choice than to release him. It was a generous act.'

'A Generous act to be sure,' sneered Hammer 'and equally a treasonous one perhaps compromising all our plans so long in the construction. Allow me to add the seasoning to this meal of deceit. Consider the consequences of the actions you have heard. He knowingly released a spy in the city who will no doubt glean some intelligence easily used against us in battle. How many lives will be lost because of Arad the Generous and his stupidity. No forgive me, not stupidity, this infers one does something by accident. No, this is planned foolishness. Pride filled ignorance. If you worried about fulfilling your title's obligations, you should have passed the creature immediately to me and allowed me the opportunity to reinforce this generous act. You however took your own counsel for what it is worth and perhaps doomed us all. This is unforgivable and your fate is by the Judgement of your peers.' Hammer turned slowly to the crowd. "Judge,' he said.

The giants remained silent as the burden to be both fair and adequately punish a crime now occupied their minds. All in the room had family who perished in the first battle of the exiles and none forgot the terror, even though the story was passed down through lineage rather than first hand. They knew Arad the Generous could become the first causality of the new war.

'Again I say, Judge, bellowed Hammer to the deathly quiet. One by one the giants stood and turned their backs on Arad. A few wavered then they too turned their backs until after a few minutes only one body faced the stage.

'It seems you have an ally,' said Hammer as he scowled towards the lone giant facing him. 'Perhaps such an ally in the city is equally as dangerous as one of the Invaders. The Judgement has been made but I question you Minar the Loyal. Your loyalty is admirable as would be expected by your title but your title also has claims to be loyal with discernity which here it is not.'

'Do as you will Hammer the Exalter,' challenged Minar with a bravado shocking those near him most of whom carefully began distancing themselves from their rogue brother. 'You know as well as I that Arad the Generous is the soundest of all creatures. He is no more a traitor than you yourself.'

Hammer exploded in an anger rarely seen before. He smashed his hammer with all his strength against the wall behind him bringing it down in a heap of dust and rubble dangerously missing his own head by inches as he faced an unflinching Minar.

'You dare to challenge me Minar the Loyal. You who have demonstrated such cold lack of concern for your fellows you would side with a traitor. You dare to match your feeble skills against mine?'

Outwardly Hammer appeared seething but inwardly he calculated the effect the punishment of two very popular members would have on his popularity, particularly two who in their own way held considerable power over public opinion. Minar's support could be the beginning of planned opposition against him and he could not afford a political battle at this stage. He knew he must quickly and decisively squash this public impertinence and with a finesse showing him to be both wise and fair. He called the meeting to order again with a blow of his hammer and all the Aeserians turned to face him.

'I will pronounce my penalty. Your peers have found you guilty Arad the Generous and your fate is one customary for these most despicable crimes. From this moment on you are banished from the city and its surrounds to a distance of one thousand leagues. You can swim east if you prefer or walk through the Great Desert but you are forthwith exiled from these lands never to set foot again on this soil unless by decree and I can assure you that will be most unlikely. Make what you can of your life but from now until eternity you are no longer Arad the Generous but Arad of no name and rank, fugitive of the city. Go join the one who we know as 'Kolin' who before you, nearly a thousand years ago, was expelled and embrace his bones and wither in the wild.'

The crowd moaned at the punishment. The red giant stood straight a tear rolling down his oval face, while others also wept openly as they watched Arad shuffle from the stage.

'But wait,' cried Hammer in one last moment of theatre. 'I would not have my people think ME ungenerous. I would not have you leave alone Arad. You must take Minar the Loyal with you. You will be his companion on the road Minar, as by your support for Arad you have declared yourself a sympathiser and co-conspirator. Loyal indeed, then show your loyalty on the road with your ally. A lovely companion you would make, a duology of traitors. Be gone by morning or my justice will be more severe.'

Without waiting Hammer left the hall, the rising noise of protest fading behind him. He disregarded it immediately. They will all obey as they have no choice. He had created a type of co dependency between himself and the populace. He needed their manpower and they needed his leadership and direction to realise their dream of revenge and recompense for the atrocities of the past. He cultivated this mood over many years. He shook his head in disbelief at how the people had forgiven and almost forgotten the desolation of Mesania. He rekindled the past hatreds and now rode it like a wave inevitably crashing on the Invaders, destroying them all.

A smile perched on his face as he thought of the power he would soon have as the entire island of Salnikov fell under his dominion. He retunred to his quarters and stared out of the top most room of the Premier Spire the city sprawling below him.

'You would be happy with that result,' said a voice in the shadows.

'Of course,' said Hammer turning back to the room and searching the darkeness for the source. 'I rid myself of two trouble makers and potential adversaries and in the process accord myself a little more control and power. I never liked Arad, or Minar for that fact. Let them wander in the desert, they might even find Kolin if they try hard enough, although after about a thousand years he may be a little rank. They are all moralistic and I dislike that intensely. Let them see what good it does them when they need water in the desert. They cannot drink from the well of kindness.' He laughed at his own poetry however the grunt returning from the shadows was hollow with undisguised contempt.

'Are your plans in order Hammer, time passes quickly?'

'We will be ready. The assault cannot be rushed, we do not want a siege Le Frag, we want absolute victory. The hatred I have cultivated in my people is fleeting once the battle rush has passed, its pulse will only sustain a soldier for minutes. For hours you need discipline and commitment. Spilt blood and screams of pain have a tendency to make some question their commitment. Victory is a strong panacea and can evaporate thoughts of exhaustion and fear.'

A much smaller figure stepped out from the shadows and Hammer knelt down so as to be on eye level, glaring with unreserved hatred.

'I need you now Le Frag and you know this and know too you will be richly rewarded for your services. Remember though, need you or not, I will not hesitate to crush you if I find duplicity. Be warned.'

Hammer stormed off, his footsteps shaking Le Frag's bones as he watched the hulk disappear down the hall. Le Frag, while wary of Hammer's threats, knew his own value lay in the advantage he held strategically when the battle begins. Hammer will reply on his knowledge when the invasion starts. Being one of the enemy had its advantages. He would win the war for Hammer and Hammer knew it, however the giant is so absorbed with victory he can not see further than the end of his sizable nose, thought Le Frag. Hammer and the giants would give Le Frag his own revenge on the people who wronged him. He craved revenge like a drug, a sweet pleasure that would sustain him for the rest of his life.

Le Frag looked carefully around him now he stood in the open. Although having free range of Hammer's quarters, he constantly needed to ensure his presence was kept a secret. If discovered, Hammer would doubtless claim no knowledge of him and probably step on him himself, so he had to be careful. He was relegated to the shadows at night, wandering the streets alone, which, even though he was happy in his own company, he at times felt lonely. However he now had a distraction. An Invader free in the city interested him. Was he, as Hammer suggested, a spy or a mere unfortunate wanderer and adventurer now all too seldom seen in the world.

He needed to find out. The intruder could be an accomplice, which he might need, or an adversary which he would have to kill. Either way it meant a worthy diversion. Travel throughout the city was easy due to his advantage of size. He could move in the same tiny alleyways and gutters his countryman would have to travel in and as such he felt he had a reasonable chance of finding him or at least finding rumour of his passing. In time he would find the intruder if he remained in the city and if he had left then he had no problem.

He decided to chase Hammer and see what priority he placed on the capture of this 'Isaac'. He followed the corridor until he reached one of the many stair wells in the city. He always chose the less frequented passages and tonight all the giants would be discussing the current events for hours in the various taverns and drinking houses in the city so he had little chance of discovery.

He ascended the mountainous stairs which exhausted him, each riser a climb rather than a step, which made the whole journey perilously slow. He eventually found Hammer hovering over a well worn and notated map of the entire island of Salnikov.

'The trade winds will be our ally Le Frag,' said Hammer without looking up. 'North we will send the fleet and avoid the bergs to the south. We will lose some wind advantage for a time as we cross into the northern currents and drift across the top of the continent until the ancient Easterlies take us at great speed to the Landings. This is of course if these old manuscripts are correct. They cost me many tons of gold commas and quite a few vessels but they are as accurate as we can hope for. We have never made such a journey on ships Le Frag, my people are infantry and unused to sea travel, and our landings must be swift. Only surprise and speed will win the day. I do not want to have a protracted campaign where my supply lines will travel half way around the world. We will have only enough provisions for a few weeks after we land. We will travel light and fight hard but only if we make speed.'

'How long Hammer?' asked Le Frag as he climbed the nearest chair to look at the map noticing also Hammer had no intention of assisting him.

'Until we leave? Perhaps a month once we have raised the army and the trade winds to old Dessan are ripe, then two weeks at full sail and one weeks march and a week to engage and defeat the foe. There are many variables and this is when the gambler lays his stake. If the journey is interrupted or stalled in any way we could miss our time. The Jharnell speaks of the Gathering and we must be there for this event. The myth tells of the gods gathering to witness the changing of the world and while I am sceptical such an event will occur, what better portent for the Aeserians to return home.' He paced the room with his hands linked behind his back. 'It also signifys concurrently, a thousand years since our defeat and the Invaders will gather to celebrate, not guarding against an attack. They do not realise we also have kept this vile date in our history and we will commemorate their destruction.'

'And you are sure you read the Jharnell correctly?' asked Le Frag.

'My readings are without fault. Utter destruction is our intent and once achieved we will fortify our ancient home and remain vigilant forever to ensure we are never ousted again. Oh pity those taking arms against us for surely they will fall and I will be Lord of all the lands and people will cringe before me and beg for my clemency. I will link our homes in the East with those in the West and they will be the twin peaks of civilisation and I will be Hammer the Restorer and Proctor a title never before bestowed.'

'And certainly never to oneself,' said Le Frag impudently which won him a glare from Hammer.

'Well may you be clever now Le Frag,' said Hammer. 'You have aligned yourself with the side of might and you may yet be the difference between victory and defeat but to me you are nothing but the lowest of scum. You willingly betray your people and sentence them to death knowing I will give you only moderate favour in return. This has always been a curiosity to me.' He locked eyes with Le Frag trying to peer beyond the emotionless aspect on the little man's face. 'Tell me Le Frag, what was been done to you to create such malice? Did someone catch you thieving or something a little more exotic, an adulterous act maybe or simply a cur seeking revenge?'

Le Frag ignored the insults and continued to study the map.

'Perhaps it is a little of all these things Hammer, or maybe I am merely greedy and wish to perhaps own my own minor duchy somewhere after the war.' Hammer chuckled. 'It seems my little friend is desirous of power. How fascinating. Well I think for once you and I tread on common ground. I have no goodwill towards any Invader but perhaps here we have struck a conciliatory note for I too understand the unquenchable thirst of power. Power liberates Le Frag and it imprisons. Its excesses enhance the soul and often diminishes the body. You achieve impunity, have any woman you desire, have several if that is your taste, sentence a recalcitrant to a thousand years in prison and no one will challenge. It is a great aphrodisiac and once tasted it is bitter to relinquish even in small portions.'

Hammer sat down wearily, again at eye level with Le Frag but this time he spoke in a melancholy fashion.

'A duchy is a small reward for such a treachery. You must desire more than you are voicing. Are there additional demands in that minuscule brain of yours to be sprung at a time I am most dependent on you? I am no ones fool Invader and treat me such at your peril.'

Le Frag thought this seemed the most opportune time to list all his requests, because at this moment, Hammer seemed the most amiable he had ever been with him and he thought may never get such an opportunity again. He is a difficult man to read, his renowned reclusiveness accords him power but has also left him with few, if any, allies among the Aeserians whom he rules more out of fear than any loyalty. Hammer crafts support from rekindling old hatreds and promising revenge and repatriation to their homelands where he intends to drive the Invader before him like cattle and eventually pushing them into the ocean or killing them all.

'Well since you mention it there is one small additional request I would make of you, so small as to be hardly worth mentioning, a trifling thing really a lord so great as yourself would be quite dismissive of.'

'Speak Le Frag, you endanger yourself by patronising me. What do you want and before you answer think carefully because it is the last request I will consider?'

'My request is simple. There is a woman I wish to be spared from the carnage and I would have permission to seek her out and secret her away prior to the battle, or at the least be able to claim her once victory is assured.'

'A woman, yes, I suppose you would like women Le Frag although I admit to being surprised one such as you could be a romanticist. I am no judge of Invader looks but it seems you would be a singularly unattractive creature.'

'I have been called worse Hammer it worries me not. It is the woman I desire but she is more so than any woman in creation and she carries a secret to me more valuable than gold. You speak of power Hammer, and I speak of knowledge as being the most powerful of weapons. The knowledge I have of this woman is a princely prize.' Le Frag could read Hammer's next thoughts.

'She is a comely wench then?' asked Hammer.

'The most beautiful ever made, striking, breathtaking. A woman to start wars or kindle desire in the most pious of men. The most precious gem in all of Mesania and she knows only a little of her stock and lineage. She knew her father but she is unsure of her peerage. She knows she is special but rejects herself as a superior.'

'If she stood slightly taller I would take her for myself Le Frag but you can have her, I have little need for a five foot wench no matter how comely and her lineage is of no import to me as it is about to cease. She could be the last queen of the Invaders and I do not care as she will have no subjects to rule shortly.'

Le Frag flinched as Hammer's extremely perceptive mind came very close to the truth. A half queen hidden in the Lesser Ships for twenty years. She would have no knowledge of her circumstances. A bastard child has little claim on the throne but if all others were killed and the government gone then the people who remain will cling to anything that resembles leadership. A thirsty man will take a drink from any hand. Of course should she then wed the husband would have power and position by marriage. He will ascend the heights of leadership in his own right after which he can plan for the destruction of the giants. King Le Frag consort to the High Queen, Destroyer of the giants and leader absolute.

Le Frag knew patience is his primary weapon, a character trait only some people ever have mastery over. He could wait a year or five so long as he achieved the ultimate goal. But even someone with his patience needs some short term goals and he just achieved an important milestone.

Hammer just gave him the woman and now it was imperative he helped Hammer to victory and keep the girl alive in the process. He could see the finish line and within a year he would have the woman, the crown and the giants again exiled to the wilderness. He drifted into a dream world of possibilities when Hammer's booming voice jolted him back to reality.

'I am afraid Le Frag it will be impossible for you to enter the city before the assault. You may sift through the remains for the woman after I have been through them myself. You are an entirely deceitful creature and I do not believe you have any loyalty to me. I do not have time for your forked dealings so you will remain by my side until I otherwise order it. You can show me the byways of Mesania yourself for our memories have dimmed and I am sure the Invader have butchered and altered the canals therein, curse them.'

Le Frag and Hammer studied the maps and ocean currents, regularly stopping to discuss some finer point of detail especially regarding the western interior of the island. They scheduled the attack for the dryer months. They would leave Salnikovia during the wet season which would allow them to arrive when the weather would be kinder.

'Assaults held in the wet weather inevitably fail because the advantage of camouflage and surprise never compensate for the disadvantage of immobility,' coached Hammer.

'It is here the landing must take place,' said Le Frag as he pointed to a spur of land jutting off the west coast,' and we must ensure there are no witnesses left alive or rumour will spread before us quickly. It is the ancient landings of my people and allows rapid access to the interior. My readings of our ancient Jharnell shows treks and hardships my people endured but at the time we were unprepared whereas your army will know the terrain. Scouts, trackers and a van guard will all be necessary. A breach in the Western Range takes us past the base of the Ice Mountain. It is here we will encounter our first resistance so we must be wary.'

Hammer laughed and leant closer to Le Frag, 'Resistance?' he said, 'we are still many days journey from Mesania what resistance could there possibly be? Some lonely farming rubes or the odd vagabond. We will not even need to break stride Le Frag. Me thinks you give too much credit to the fighting abilities of your people.'

'These are the same people, are they not, who took Mesania from you in the beginning?'

Le Frag regretted the words even as they passed his lips and tensed for Hammer's retort but incredibly the Aeserian leader merely chuckled hollowly.

'You are right Le Frag, but this time the victory will be ours and woe to the Invader for he knows not what tide of hatred is about to crash around him.'

Hammer moved his finger across the map, past the Ice Mountain and traced the many veined roads leading into the forest. Le Frag finally spoke, wary of Hammer's unpredictable mood swings.

'I have to be quite careful here Hammer the Exalter,' began Le Frag formally. 'You are a great leader and tactician and I do not wish to offend these quite legitimate titles with my amateur observations so one question before I begin?'

'Ask away little man, I am for some reason feeling quite favourably disposed to you at present perhaps because you do challenge my authority.'

'Well if I disagree with you in a tactical sense, will you step on me?'

Hammer grinned at him slyly. 'Perhaps I will Le Frag. It is a chance you must take. What are you saying?'

'I am saying we will find resistance at the Ice Mountain and if my advice is ignored not a single one of your people will survive the journey.'

Hammer absorbed the statement without humour and motioned for Le Frag to continue.

'I asked you my question because in this matter I have superior knowledge to any of your people and pride can sometimes be the undoing of any tactician.'

Le Frag expected Hammer to rage at the insult but the answer surprised him.

'You know nothing of politics Le Frag, so I will share with you some insights before you share yours with me as I am confident you will be unable to relay any of this conversation to my enemies, as they are also your enemies. My persona in public is not my normal face. The delicate balance I have created between of wise conqueror and dangerous madman is a difficult skill to maintain. If one of my people said what you just have, then they would have been clasped in chains and thrown in the dungeon immediately and I would not be releasing them. However when in my chambers alone, I need to know all you know Le Frag and I am not so proud as to ignore the insights of one who has been in the region. Tell me then of the Ice Mountain. We have children's stories from ancient memory and I have always thought these fantasy only?'

'Then your children are likely wiser than all your generals because the stories are tenfold more deadly than you can imagine. Have you heard of the Aeponysis? Or perhaps Ratite? These are the formal names of what you call the Winged Ones. You cannot imagine what terrors they are. They destroyed half of the first pilgrims within a day and we had no power to stop them. They fly Hammer, huge beasts with wings we call birds but are much more. Nearly as tall as yourselves with hair instead of feathers and heads like broad spears and just as deadly. Every part of their body is designed to kill. Poisons tip their taloned claws and their mouths house razor teeth. Each end of each hair on their massive bodies is as sharp as the finest of your swords and one brush with them will shred the flesh into a thousand strips.

They are carnivores. Living off game they stalk from the skies. They search the ground from above until they find their food, then swoop and carry their prey away. Do not dismiss them because of your size. They are extraordinarily strong and if a target is too big they will work tactics to subdue it. They will look upon your army as a banquet and they will not be daunted by your numbers or your stature. They will think it a blessing. But even more important to our plans is these creatures think. They are not mere beasts living only to kill, eat, procreate and then die. They have made a city out of their eyries and they house many thousands. The odd stray Ratite we could dismiss, however they work in concert to destroy all intruders. Our problem is they stand between us and Mesania. We cannot skirt around them as the alternative mountain passes are too small and narrow for our army. No Hammer, we must engage them and defeat them or we will be the ones defeated.'

Hammer absorbed the information calmly and began pacing the room.

'Archers Le Frag, is this what you think will help our cause. I do not want to lose one of my people to these horrors but I do not have archers in great numbers. I did not think it necessary to have them when we plan to attack a monolith from within. Now I see we need them. What are your thoughts?'

'I think that we need to organise your army such as none before have been organised. We cannot wander into the lands of the Ratite in long convoys and expect to survive. My preference is for your people to be clustered in small groups of perhaps a dozen. What we once called 'Crosiers', an organism in itself. They will not be responsible for the other groups, only their own. They will move in close ranks. Travel will be slow but better than the alternative. In such small numbers no more than two or three Ratites could attack at any one time their wing spans would make any more impossible. It is then a matter of the twelve dispatching the three which I believe will have the greatest chance of success. In the twelve you could have three archers if this is your desire, however you may need none. We can number each cell of twelve and have a group of twelve cells of twelve making a Gross. Number each Gross and you have a structured and accountable army. A captain for each Gross and sergeant for each Crosier. Keep a written record of each cell and its leader. Have regular meetings of the sergeants and captains and have them report to the council of generals and your self each day before we march. It is only then that we can understand where and how effectively our numbers are being utilised.' Le Frag drew an audible breath.

'This is the first step. The next is how to defend the full attack force of the Ratite. They attack when we are at our most vulnerable. They will study us in detail the moment we reach the northern realms and every Ratite on the mountain will be launching into us. They will expect no resistance, they have had little in the past, and this is our weapon. We will slaughter hundreds in their first dive and this will give them something to think about. They will re stratagise and try again. Iit is the nature of predators not to allow prey to escape and we will kill many more. I believe at this stage they will reassess the taste they have for Aeserian.'

'You interest me Le Frag, I notice that you use 'we' often. Are you helping us or are you one of us. The distinction is important,' said Hammer suspiciously.

'I use the collective 'we' because our goals are the same. We must clear Mesania of my people and if this means we have to kill every living thing between us and the mountain or level Mesania to dust in the process, then so be it.'

Hammer laughed and clasped Le Frag on the shoulder with a huge hand nearly crushing him but Le Frag accepted the gesture for its intent, a sign of an initial goodwill between the two.

'So be it then. I will call a counsel of generals and advise them of my new structure and they will implement it immediately. We will crush the Ratite and leave their rotting carcasses in the sun as a message to all other adversaries that the Aeserians are returned.'

Le Frag moved from under Hammer's hand. 'I am sorry Hammer. I do not think this the wisest course of action. We must make our war against the Ratite and have it ended in the space of a few hours and then we must cover all trace of conflict from the fields. No carcasses must be left in the open. If this means we spend a whole day burying the dead then this must be so. The Ratite have never been defeated. If we leave their corpses in the open then prying eyes will see and word will arrive at Mesania well before us telling of a powerful presence abroad. We must not let that happen. It is another reason why we must have forward scouts in all directions to find any spies. As you have said on many occasions Hammer, secrecy and surprise will win the day. We cannot reach Mesania and have them prepared for us, as they will fortify their entrances and we will never win a siege. Oh and one other thing, I forgot to mention the snow bears.'

'Continue,' said Hammer wearily, 'And try not to leave out any other foes.'

'Their name describes who they are. Great bears living around the base of the Ice Mountain. They live in an unsteady peace with the Ratite who leave them well enough alone. Their numbers are similar to those of the Ratite and neither wishes to conduct a protracted battle. The bears are very strong and Ratites do not often win if they try to eat them and so they do not bother. There is plenty of other less stressful game in the region. But for us it is a concern as the bears will attack when the Ratite are occupied. This is our advantage. The bears are large compared to me but no so to yourselves. Your stature may be enough to waylay them and discourage them. It is however a variable I cannot guarantee. They indeed may attack and if so the Ratite will swoop. We do not want a two front war.'

Hammer smiled. 'I find myself in unchartered territory Le Frag. I have never deferred to anyone, on any matter before now. You have made me look at our strategies through new eyes and I can see the value in all you have said. I will of course claim the credit for myself, it would only be proper. It will further strengthen my leadership role to have such prescience of issues so far from our borders. You have acquitted yourself well here tonight Le Frag, you may live for another day.'

Hammer laughed loudly and in such an insane manner Le Frag's flesh crawled with goose bumps. He must not be over confident with Hammer's changed attitude. He knew Hammer had loyalty to only one being, and that is Hammer.

He left Hammer and ss the night was still young and he decided to take a stroll around the safest corridors and hide outs to see if he could find any trace of the Isaac creature. He was certain Isaac would need to quit the city as soon as possible but it did not pay to take chances. Hammer's estimation of him would be further enhanced if he could produce the spy, and that could only be a good thing.

He scouted the corridors immediately around Hammer's chambers and found nothing and continued out in concentric circles covering every inch of skirting board and recesses around the entire floor of the spire.

It was uncommonly quiet tonight, he thought, with very few commuters, the shock of Arad's banishment still fresh in the air. As the hours ticked by there would be even fewer folk about and it would be even easier to move freely. He wandered down his favourite stair case to the ground level and instantly the smell of new rain hit his nostrils. A sprinkle of soft rain fell even though the black clouds and lightning over the peaks of the Protectorate Mountains signalled some larger storms closing in.

He tightened his cloak about his neck and trod carefully towards the entry gates which he thought the creature would still need to pass if he were to leave the city. Hammer's speech in the chambers earlier placed the guards on extreme alert and they patrolled the gate area and surrounds with a gusto he had not seen before. The whole city seemed to have a heightened sense of security and all the Aeserians kept watch for the Invader Arad had released.

He knew some little used paths in and out of the city, but was certain Isaac would know nothing of them and so he decided if he were this Isaac, then he would most certainly have escaped the city as soon as he was released. He could think of no sensible reason for him to remain among a people he knew would kill him, so he reasoned by now this Isaac would be many leagues away.

With the matter firmly settled in his mind Le Frag decided to retire to his sleeping hole and consider the upcoming events that will change the shape of his island. He could smell his victory and taste the delights of being an absolute ruler however many vital stepping stones remained to be crossed and through treacherous rivers before he could lay his claims down. He guessed the two exiled giants would be leaving the city soon and he decided to secrete himself before the populace turned out to watch their expulsion.

He smiled and sauntered back to the Premier Spire as the black clouds closed in around Salnikovia.
" _Truth is often flawed by lust. A man's_

life is a lie if he only lives to covet"

Jharnell 86/123-5
Chapter 5

Arad returned briefly to his chambers on the seventh tier of the South West Chain accompanied by two guards who looked very uncomfortable overseeing his ejection. Arad began slowly picking through his drawers gathering some meagre possessions he thought will be useful in exile. He travelled widely in the lands surrounding Salnikovia although never leaving its borders and he despaired at what he may find.

He could not find the appropriate words when Minar entered his room. Never had anyone given him such an honour. Minar relegated himself to the fate of an exile to selflessly support a friend. Clasping Minar by the arm, tears seeping out of his brown eyes, he swore his allegiance to his friend an both took the Oath of Fealty to sustain each other and protect the other from the unknowns ahead.

Arad tried to be as noble as possible under the circumstances but after a few minutes he could sustain the facade no longer. He turned to Minar.

'What are we to do Minar? We are lost. Our world is ended. How are we to live and survive so ignobly?'

Minar nodded while wrapping a huge arm around Arad's shoulder as they left the chambers.

'My friend, we will do as best we can and that is the best that we can do,' he said. 'The world is a very large place and I am sure there is room for a couple of lonely Aeserians to find some sanctuary.'

Walking in silence they reached an open courtyard. Minar stared up at the brilliant light show the storm provided and turned to Arad, his eyes as bright as the lamps burning from the spires.

;Arad. We are embarking on an odyssey. One no others apart from the mythical Kolin has undertaken. To be released upon the world and to be able to travel its lengths without impediment, to explore oceans and cross deserts. Ah it awakens a great feeling in me I have not experienced before. A feeling of adventure and high jinx making my senses come alive. We will seek out the secrets of the universe and live for a million years and have a greater knowledge of our world than any others before. So take heart, great heart Arad, for it is destiny determining we stand here together on the brink. Outcasts from our people but with such nerve they will write poetry about our lives for generations to come.' He laughed gaily and puffed his chest as he prepared to leave the city.

'You hearten me Minar and I can only thank you for that. I am afraid though I do not share your enthusiasm. The lands around Salnikovia are all I know and all I want to know. Leaving the city is the hardest thing I have ever done and frankly I am a little afraid of what awaits us. I really don't think I am the adventurous type. I miss my city already and I haven't yet crossed her threshold.'

Minar again clasped his the shoulder.

'Not the adventurous type you say. Well Arad my great friend, you best become adventurous quickly because it is unlikely we will ever come back and as soon as you come to terms with that fact the better chance we will have to survive. Our path lies north and westwards and it is there we will discover our future.'

The night lengthened and usually the city would be sleeping, the streets all but deserted. Tonight however a huge crowd gathered to discuss the Judgement they had enacted. The two men crossed the courtyards with hundreds of their countrymen behind them and when they arrived at the main gates, at least a thousand Aeserians formed a cortege with an ominous finality about it.

Some of their friends passing close whispered encouragement, and the rest merely remained watching, their heads cast low, knowing it was their Judgement that exiled two of their kind to almost certain death in the Great Desert to the west or the Endless Sea to their east. The black clouds thundered above them and lightening rebounded of the peaks, occasionally producing rumbling thunder gurgling in the distance and Arad of no title and Minar the Loyal turned for one last look at their city.

'Fare thee well great city of Salnikovia,' said Minar in a voice echoing across the stones of the city walls. 'One day we may meet again but until then keep my citizens well and protect them from all evils. Goodbye.' He walked only a few paces when he turned again. 'And be wary of Hammer, he possesses an unnatural lust and he cares not whom he tramples in his quest for the ambrosia of power.' He turned north with Arad and followed the road curving north and west, skirting the Protectorate Mountains and leading them into the unchartered distant lands. They said little to each other preferring to relish their last moments in familiar territory and boldly strode towards their destiny as the clouds broke and the rain fell heavily. Pulling their cloaks tightly around them they pushed forward slowly.

They travelled with as much enthusiasm as they could muster from two who were in no hurry and soon the mountains began to curve away from them and disappear into the northern horizon, the rain abating and the sky clearing, with a few bright stars peaking through the parting clouds.

They made camp, chewing on some of their rations, not bothering with a fire and talking quietly of what they would need to do to survive. They could both hunt as could all of their kind, but even the best hunter is powerless when there is no game. Minar possessed some knowledge of edible root stocks and Arad was an expert fisherman so they decided to keep to the coast as much as possible and thereby have at least one food source at the ready at any given time.

They elected to live a nomadic life for the time being at least and did not want to merely set up a house just outside the boundaries of their home land. They would travel and explore and try to find their own utopia, if it existed and perhaps settle there.

'I hate to state the obvious,' said Arad on the second day of their march. 'But I have been thinking and have come to a very disturbing conclusion.'

Minar laughed for the first time in two days. 'And what may that be pray tell,' said Minar, 'enlighten me with the deepest thoughts of Arad the ex Generous.'

'Well, to the best of my knowledge, Salnikovia is the only city our people have in the whole world and there are no smaller settlements in the wild lands of people like us, correct?'

'Correct,' said Minar. 'Most of the Valkerie women left many years ago to a whereabouts unknown, although likely across the oceans.'

'Then in all likelihood neither one of us will ever again have the opportunity to caress or even speak to a woman for the rest of our lives.'

Minar stopped laughing, mulling over Arad's words.

'That is not good,' said Minar. 'I hadn't thought of that Arad. Thank you very much for pointing it out that makes me feel much better.'

This time Arad was laughing. 'Don't let it worry you too much Minar. I don't recall you being that popular with the women in any event. You are a good companion my friend but you do not have a pleasant face.'

Arad's laughing stopped abruptly when Minar launched himself, tackling him into the dirt, the two colossuses rolling in the grass like juveniles. Arad choked on a clod of mud Minar was wedging into his mouth and felt his shoulders pinned by Minar's knees.

'Take care Arad, you know I could always best you in the Games. My unpleasant face is also my unblemished face as you could never strike me when it counted.'

The two dusted themselves and tightened their packs, continuing their march north each a little more light hearted now they accepted their lot. New beginnings, thought Minar, and this is how he must convince Arad to behave. There was one issue he wanted to discuss with Arad and he needed to be careful not to upset the fragile mental state his friend was in now he had become an exile.

He had been cultivating an idea in his mind for the last two days and now he thought it ripe enough to harvest and share with Arad but it was so fanciful even he thought it impractical and possibly bordering on the ridiculous.

'Arad?' started Minar tentatively swishing a long stick across the dirt as he spoke. 'Do you study the history of Salnikovia?'

'At times I have read the books in the library. Most were of ancient history and hardly to be believed. They are wondrous tales but I treat them as just that, tales by story tellers to amuse and entertain.'

'What of the myth of Kolin, do you think there ever was a Kolin?'

'Kolin and the Tempest,' said Arad. 'Of course I know the tale but it was a thousand years ago. Why do you bring it up now?'

'No reason.'

Minar kept walking quietly alongside Arad, the two struggling down a steep incline leading to the ocean's edge. The shoreline naturally sloped into a sandy beach washed by small wave lets breaking and scurrying away quickly with a quiet bubbling making the scene seem busy but calming. As far as they could see north, the sand stretched until it seemed to meet the northern arm of the Protectorate Mountains. The local maps showed the shoreline dip inland for a time and then continue to the famed Eighty League Beach which formed the limit of the formal cartography of the Aeserians. Since none travelled so far, they saw little purpose in mapping the region and all points further north were considered wilderness and untamed lands.

They stopped at the water's edge and wetting their heads, and sat on the sand starring out into the Endless Sea each lost in their own private thoughts.

Minar broke the silence.

'Kolin is supposed to one day rise from his banishment and gather the Jotuns in a final Gathering releasing them from all servitude. He would strike down the persecutors and restore us to our place in the world,' said Minar. 'Do you think the time has come?'

'So Hammer claims,' said Arad 'but I am not expecting Kolin to contribute, mere fable'.

'I am suggesting Hammer is attempting to incarnate himself as the myth of Kolin and somehow convince everyone he is a legend reborn. He is a schemer and manipulator and sadly, even though I too was overcome by his claims of restitution, I now know he wishes only to increase his personal power. Why else would he exile the both of us. He could see perhaps sometime in the future I, or more particularly you, would pose a threat to him. Your integrity is a trait all of us admire and in time people would gravitate to you'

Arad began nodding as understanding broke on his face. He began getting quite angry and reprimanded himself for being so gullible as Minar continued.

'Hammer is sending our people to war in places we only know by history, and dim history at that. We will go willingly because he has tapped into the very heart of all our dreams. To return to the ancient homes of our people and seek justice for wrongs of the past. But Arad we know nothing of where we are going and less of the strengths of the enemy. He could be more powerful than we could ever imagine and then what? Another chapter of woe and misery to add to our pain. It is the death of innocents worrying me most. Our people could die. If even one dies then it is too many. We have comfortable lands and healthy living. We multiply and grow and I think we are basically happy and now we place all that in jeopardy by listening to the Hammer.'

Minar hurled a palm sized rock into the ocean as if he were defeated but just as quickly he rose to his feet and stood tall as he peered into the Endless Sea.

'I cannot let this happen Arad and you are going to help me. You say you know of Kolin and he is nothing but the fantasy of the young, but I say it is more than a myth. I say Kolin lives and I say you and I are going to seek him and find him, and I say we will raise him to deliver our people. What say you?'

Arad thought hard. He knew he was a simple man and not prone to idle whims. He always tried to be as honest as he could with people and he would often forgo some treat for the charity of others and here Minar spoke on a plane he was not used to. He could understand only one thing for sure and that was the two of them existed as outcasts and that made them outlaws.

Even if Kolin did exist and even if they could find him and even if he agreed to help them they still could not return to Salnikovia. He could see little point and he told Minar.

'I am a generous person Minar but even I cannot forever give. How will this help our plight. I am ashamed as I know in this matter I am being selfish.'

'Your feelings are natural Arad. From your perspective your people have just deserted you so why aid them. The answer is simple and you know it also. Because it is the right thing to do. We see through the Hammer facade but others do not and without us they could die in a war they probably do not want to be involved in anyway. They have been coerced by twisting their natural tendency to justice so they will do anything to seek their revenge. I am not made of stone Arad. I too have harboured thoughts of standing at the peak of Mesania and knowing our lands had been returned and the thought thrills me. How could I stand there knowing possibly thousands of my people died for this privilege. It is not right. But if we are to go to war and we can do nothing to stop it then Arad there is a little known caveat on our exile.. If we bear arms against a common enemy then we are instantly re admitted to our society. It is a type of amnesty and one clearly written in our statutes. We cannot lose but we can certainly win. When you are at the bottom of the well there is only one way you can travel.' Minar chuckled coldly.

'We cannot do this alone Arad. If we are to stop a war or indeed join one, we need help and Kolin is the only person who can do it. I know in my very fibre he is alive and we must seek him and do so immediately. Hammer will sail in a month and be at battle in two and we have only our legs to carry us across the land. I do not know how far we are to travel but my readings tell me north is where Kolin can be found in the 'Muspellshiem', the hot lands. It is there we will find our destiny.'

For Arad there was no more to be said. His friend had a desire and even though Arad felt the entire search would be fruitless it was the least he could do to support a friend who so selflessly supported him.

'Then we should probably get started. I know the hot land only by rumour but it is past the Eighty League Beach and this is still a mighty journey in itself.'

'Then mighty men for mighty tasks,' shouted Minar as he leapt into a jog with Arad by his side, a rush of adrenaline surging them forward.

The two travelled for three days at a steady pace to manage their strength. They stopped often to either sleep on the beach or catch their dinner and Arad was expert in both. Each day he would catch a different breed of fish and fry it lightly on a small pan he brought with him. The dinner filled them but was one dimensional and soon both he and Minar had a need for a more varied diet.

The Protectorate Mountains now were very close to the shoreline and only a thin strip of flat land lay between the base of the last mountain and the ocean's edge. As they approached the pass they saw a clear roadway.

'Why should such a road exist?' asked Arad. 'There are none to use it.'

Warily they continued along a well worn path made of crushed shells and stones. They saw a large brown log cabin ahead, sitting on the end of a rocky promontory pointing towards the ocean. Small waves gently rubbed up against the rear of the building but had not eroded any of the structure. The front of the building had a large entrance clear of any natural overgrowth one would expect if the area were abandoned.

I have studied the maps and nowhere is there any mention of people this far north. At one time trade routes criss-crossed the north and this building could be a remaining trade station. It looks occupied but surely this is unlikely. It is very curious.'

They approached the door and listened carefully for any trace of life but only the slapping of small waves could be heard.

Minar pushed on the door and it opened easily with no lock or handle to impede it.

'Hello,' said Minar tentatively. 'Is there anyone here?'

He looked at Arad and shook his head and proceeded to push further into a homely room, well lit with a small fire burning in a hearth at the opposite end from the door. A joint of meat turned slowly on a rotisserie, the smell wafting tantalisingly throughout the room making both their mouths water.

I hope who ever is here likes sharing,' said Arad. 'Because that meat needs urgent eating.'

'Control yourself,' said Minar. 'I am sure the owner would be more than happy to welcome some travellers. I would not think he would have many guests out here.'

'Welcome?' said a gruff voice startling both of them. 'Why would I welcome a couple of vagabonds who have entered my house unheralded?'

The men turned and saw an ancient man sitting in a well worn arm chair near the hearth, a pillow behind his head and a blanket across his knees, with a smoking pipe sitting on the edge of a thin mouth and cracked lips. He seemed as tall as them but his hunched body made his true height only a guess.

'Besides I welcome no one. I ask no visitors and do not visit myself. I am quite comfortable with my own company and do not require yours, so if you please, the way to exit is the same as the entry.'

He blew a pall of smoke into the air and studied the two men.

'We are humble travellers sir,' said Minar. 'We only ask of you some directions and perhaps some food.'

The old man slammed a heavy hand on the arm of his chair which produced a puff of dust.

'Is that all? Just some food and directions and what, pray Kolin, are you going to give me in return. Surely you do not expect the traffic of courtesy to moves in only one direction. What if I told you it took me three days to catch the fowl you are eyeing so eagerly and what if I said it sapped just about all my remaining strength to do so and without this feed I may not even survive another day. But you assume where there is one fowl there must be others and you may be right but you would have to exert your own energies to catch it and it is much simpler to merely relieve an old man of his. Is this correct?'

Minar and Arad did not know what to say. They did not anticipate such a tirade and as both were fair minded creatures they could see the old man was probably right and they should be fending for themselves and not scrounging when there is game in the hills, especially from one so aged.

'We did not mean to offend,' said Minar. 'We will be on our way.'

He grabbed a reluctant Arad by the arm and they proceeded to leave when the old man spoke up again.

'You give up too easily. I would gladly share with you. I am merely trying to encourage you to look at all perspectives before you make assumptions. It will serve you well in the days ahead.'

'What do you know of our days ahead?' said Minar suspiciously, but to his and Arad's amazement the old man vanished from right in front of them. They searched the cabin but could see no sign him. They searched outside and around the grounds but again they saw nothing and eventually went back inside.

When they returned, the cabin was dark and the hearth empty of both fire and fowl. The floor was covered in dust and the windows overgrown with weeds and branches. All the furniture looked decrepit and the arm chair was a pile of rubble. The whole scene looked as if no one had been in the house for centuries.

They tried to fathom what just happened when the door slammed, followed by the clear sound of a lock springing shut. They rushed to the door but even with their combined strength they could not open it.

Outside, the sound of waves increased and soon a splashing of sea water came through the floor with the walls shaking and creaking dangerously.

'We are trapped,' said Minar as the two began throwing themselves against the door. They looked out the windows and they could see the cabin becoming an island, with the water threatening to break the cabin free from the shoreline.

'What are we to do?' said Arad.

'We could jump out the windows,' said Minar, 'however we have the other problem that I do not think either of us can swim.'

Arad knew Minar was right and although both felt comfortable with the ocean it was not normal for Aeserians to be good swimmers, preferring to fish from the shore rather than boats which they used as a necessity rather than a convenience.

The building shook one last time and they could feel themselves separate from the shoreline and float up and down on the incoming waves. The floor boards rapidly covered with water and larger cracks began appearing in the walls and floor. They smashed their fists against the walls in frustration and fear when a tiny voice could be heard coming from one of the windows near the door.

'Here quickly take the rope.'

The men rushed to the window and hanging precariously from its edge was Isaac, a large coil of rope salvaged from Arad's pack hanging from one shoulder.

'I haven't got all day you know, come on Arad, an Aeserian rope weighs a ton. Grab an end and tie it to something.'

Arad took the rope and searched for something solid and would hold steady. He threw the rope out of one window and Minar caught the end out of another and made a tight knot. Isaac had already tied his end to a tree near the shoreline and together they managed to stop the cabin floating out to sea.

'I am afraid you are going to have to get wet Arad, bring your friend and follow me.'

Isaac could swim confidently but even he was not certain he could reach the shore without the help of the rope. The large coil filled his hands making it difficult to grasp. With some effort he managed to pull himself along it hand over fist and he finally reached the beach. Arad and Minar followed and eventually all three lay exhausted on the sand just in time to see the rope snap free and the cabin lifted high on a freak wave and come crashing down onto the jagged rocks of the promontory smashing it beyond recognition. Without warning the ocean calmed as quickly as it had become violent, tiny ripples replacing the surging waves of minutes before.

After they regained their strength Arad raised himself om one elbow looking quizzically at Isaac.

'Well little Isaac, my nemesis, I do not know what to do to you. One half of me says I owe you a debt and the other says I should step on you where you stand.'

'Come now Arad you wouldn't hurt someone who just saved your life would you?'

'If not for you I would not be here in the first place,' said Arad who looked sternly at Isaac. 'But then again perhaps providence brought you to me and maybe providence again is steering our courses to run together.' Arad was surprised at his new philosophical attitude.

Minar sat quietly staring at Isaac with a mixture of disbelief, confusion and suspicion. He had never before seen an Invader but here stood one of the hated enemy right in front of him and not only had it shown no signs of violence, it saved his life. He decided to reserve his judgement on what to do until he had some more information. His whole education was built on a corner stone of the Invaders being the mortal enemy of the Aeserian and here Arad held a social conversation with the creature.

'Hi Minar,' said Isaac. 'We haven't met. I am Isaac.'

Minar looked in disbelief at the smaller man. 'The creature is quick to dispatch names Arad. Is this normal amongst their race?' Asked Minar.

'Yes. They have little respect for title and seem to be quite frivolous with introductions. Here in front of you Minar is the very one I let go in the city and the reason we are standing in the middle of nowhere searching for a man I am sure has been dead for a thousand years. Tell me Isaac before I pass _my_ Judgement upon _you_ , how did you quit the city without being seen and how did you get all the way out here.'

'Simple really,' said Isaac, 'You seem to think I am a your enemy but I told you before where I come from we are quite civilised. I felt terrible about what I put you through so I decided to follow you. I watched as Hammer exiled you and I tracked you through the city and out of the gates. I must admit it was easier than I thought because when you left, the crowd focused on you so it was easy to slip through unnoticed. Sometimes I struggled to keep up but I did not have anywhere else to go and did not know where to go in any case so I thought following you was my best option. If I just announced myself you would have in all likelihood squashed me however if I could assist you in some fashion, then you might forgive me. So what do you think, does saving your life entitle me to travel with you?'

'The creature never ceases talking,' said Minar. 'Do you think we can trust him Arad and what good will he be to us?'

'He has already proved valuable Minar, perhaps he will again.'

'Perhaps but he cannot slow us down. We must get to the Muspellsheim as soon as possible and we do not have the luxury of endless time.'

Minar eyed Isaac dubiously. 'If you vouch for him then that is good enough for me. I am no baby sitter though and I still have my long held prejudice against these creatures to subdue. It may be one day I forget myself and crush him out of habit.'

'Your friend sure is the jolly type,' said Isaac. 'He should be a bundle of laughs.'

'Where we go is no laughing matter Isaac,' said Arad. 'We go to stop a war or maybe even join one. Do you think in this matter you would be able to help. I do not think so but only time will answer that question. I believe in providence and as such you may have been bequeathed to us for our benefit and have some role to play but we will see soon enough.'

'Then let us depart,' said Minar. 'I am in no hurry to see that old man again. Who do you think he is?'

'I do not know but the lands past the city are not well known to us,' said Arad. 'It may be a sprite or shape shifter or,' Arad lowered his voice to such a level both Minar and Isaac strained their necks to hear him. 'Perhaps a Fylgia.'

Minar laughed 'Now who is believing the fancies of young children,'

'What is a Fylgia?' asked Isaac.

The three picked up their belongings, which for Isaac was simple as he had none, and began marching north. Each step of the giants was two for Isaac and his breathing quickly laboured as the giants strode effortlessly up the beach and onto a groin of grass lands leading through the gap between the mountain's feet and the ocean.

'You ask a complex question Isaac,' said Minar with a smile on his round face as he watched Isaac struggle. 'There are some who believe, as does Arad, that Fylgia are spirits whose whole purpose is to create mischief whether as shape shifters or as tricksters. There are others who believe we all have a Fylgia or its brother the dark and sometimes evil Hamingja attached to us who in times of trouble will aid and assist us through life and there are still a third group who believe they are mere stories and fable and have never existed except in our minds. I am a follower of the latter.'

'They are no fable,' said Arad. 'They exist as real as you or I. Why do you think people lose things Minar. Surely it cannot always be absent mindedness. The Fylgia take the possessions and thereby own a little bit of the spirit of the one from whom he stole. It is how they gain power over us and how they eventually control, manipulate and possess us. I have

always believed Hammer's Fylgia is most powerful and that is why he is prone to absolutism.'

'Well believe as you may Arad, for me they are stories only and we are to blame for all our faults and failures and not some fictitious spirit. As for the old man, I have no explanation but this does not mean I will believe anything. There will be a rational answer I am sure it is just we do not have it. What of you little Isaac. Are there spirits in the Invader world.'

Isaac felt that Minar seemed interested and not condescending in his question. The debate the two giants had held no malice but was serious for both of them and now they wished new opinion.

'We have those who believe in a divine being. A creator of the universe and who is all powerful and watches over the people and upon death there is an afterlife. If you have lived your life well it is an afterlife of happiness and peace and for those who have not it is an afterlife of misery and despair. However equally we have others who have no religious beliefs and lead their life unto death and believe with death comes the end.'

Both giants erupted into uncontrolled laughter slapping each other on the back with Minar falling onto the grass and holding his sides. Isaac looked scornfully at the pair.

'How ridiculous,' said Arad who regained his composure first. 'An afterlife, what sort of creatures are you who can live forever. Quickly Minar we must rush back to the city and tell Hammer to cancel the battle as the Invader lives forever.'

He laughed again and Isaac's face burnt bright red.

'Oh no it makes much more sense to believe there are hundreds of thousands of little sprites running around stealing your combs and underwear and annoying everyone. Maybe giants just have pathetic memories and couldn't find their way home without a map and a guide.'

Isaac regretted the words almost immediately.

'Or perhaps Invaders are so glib as to forget they are within a hairs breadth of two creatures who could snuff out his life in an instant if they should desire it.' Said Minar this time with heavy malice in his voice.

'Come now,' said Arad. 'It will repay us all if we do not fight. Your stories are amusing to me Isaac. Minar does not know you as I do and he may ignore your jests and take comments literally. I will give you some lessens in my people's beliefs if it will open some doors of understanding between us for it seems you have much to learn of our lives.'

Minar appeared to be sulking and still looked at Isaac dubiously. He soon admitted to himself he should not take seriously the barbs of a dwarf. He touched Arad lightly on the shoulder.

'Allow me Arad, as I will ensure he gets the real version minus all the fairy tales.'

Arad looked scornfully at Minar, 'Perhaps Isaac is more perceptive than I give him credit for. You are quite happy to lead us across the island looking for the mythical Kolin and are not prepared to accept other parts of our lore.'

'Kolin is different Arad. He is real history. A factual creature from our past. Powerful beyond the mortal realm and if so then why cannot he out live the trees and mountains. No. I believe in Kolin and if our people are prone to believe in the ethereal then I choose to believe in Kolin.'

Minar was silent for a few moments and then began in a monotone chant surprising both Isaac and Arad.

The Twilight of the Gods is nigh

The Persuader awakes and speaks from high

Gather all and bring the past

Kolin and Jotuns, will come at last.

'I didn't think you had gods,' said Isaac when Minar finished.

'We have gods,' he said. 'But our gods do not seem like yours. They are many where you have one and ours are the energy you see around you. The ocean and wind, the moons and the sun all the life force that sustains the world we believe are worthy of respect and adoration.'

'Who then is Kolin and this Jotun?'

'You are curious that is for sure,' said Minar. 'That is a good thing. You need answers and this is the sign of a fruitful mind. We have travelled enough for one day. Let us catch our dinner and make a fire and talk late into the night and I will tell you of Kolin and the Jotuns. It is a tale that should be told over a fire, full stomachs and bright moons.'

The three gathered some wood lying plentifully around the nearby trees and Minar began building a fire while Arad went to the waters edge to catch some fish. Isaac found himself torn between his desire to see how Minar made fire without matches and how Arad would fish without a rod but as he only knew Minar briefly and still felt unsure around him, he decided to follow Arad.

'Tell me Arad, how do you fish without bait and a rod.'

'I do not know what those two things you speak of are. You are welcome to observe, I only ask you to be very quiet while I concentrate.'

Arad moved to the water's edge and walked a few paces into the now calm ocean. Isaac often fished in the surf back home and he could not see any of the usual gullies that are the best for this type of fishing. The glass like ocean was smooth, the usual swirls and breaches in the water indicating fish were absent. Arad stood still as a stone, his arms straight by his side his fingers slightly twitching in anticipation. Without warning Arad struck. His arms moved in a blur as they entered the water and like a bear pulled out the largest flathead Isaac had ever seen.

Isaac let out a gasp of amazement. Arad was a huge man but the whip like speed of his arms showed an agility Isaac did not know possible. He wondered at how fast he would be with a sword.

'I have never seen anything like that,' said Isaac.

'Yes I am sorry, the second one eluded me, we will have to wait for the waters to calm again and for the fish to forget I am here. Thankfully fish are not very smart and do not have a very long memory.'

'Sorry?' said Isaac. 'I thought catching one fish in that fashion was good enough. How do you do it?'

Arad left the water and placed the wriggling fish on the sand and returned to the water's edge.

'We are taught at a young age to fish Isaac and some of us are more proficient than others. I am considered a good fisherman but there are others much better. You ask how, well it is no secret. We learn to Synergise. To be one with the water and the fish so they think I am a natural part of their environment and when I have their confidence then I merely pick them up.'

'But I could hardly see your hands move moved so quick.'

'Not so quick, as I said, I should have caught two not one and now I have wasted another half hour. I am very inefficient today.'

Isaac said no more as he watched Arad go through the same routine as before but now he noticed how the fish could be seen slowly swimming around his enormous legs as if they a rocky outcrop. Just as before, Arad struck like a cobra and he caught two more fish.

Arad had a big smile on his face. 'That is much better. I must be more tired than I first thought. A few more and we can eat, Minar will have the fire and pan ready.'

'We have a saying at home Arad. Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day but teach him to fish and you feed him for life. Looks like you can feed us all with those skills.'

Arad accepted the compliment. 'That is a wonderful adage little Isaac, can I borrow it?'

'Why not, I did.'

They cleaned the fish on some rocks and Arad gutted and filleted them before they returned. Minar had built a cosy campsite with a fire and logs to sit on. He had also found some local roots he cut and diced into the pan. He added the fish and placed the stew on some large green leaves and soon the three ate what Isaac thought to be a very wholesome and satisfying dinner. They finished the meal and Arad washed out the pan with some water he carried in a skin in his pack and they lay against the logs staring up at the two moons as they breached the horizon, lighting the area in a twilight.

Minar hummed to himself until he finally broke his reverie.

'The story of Kolin is a tragic one but also ironically one of hope,' he said. 'It was thousands of years ago when Kolin brought the Jotuns over the Ran Sea. Bitter cold engulfed our lands which were ravaged by a civil war for centuries. Kolin led a group who had enough of death and famine to start new lives far away from the petty conflicts that haunted our history. Civil war is an awful disease and my people freely killed each other all for the glory of one lord to gain ascendency over another. How could we kill another of our race is a bewilderment to me and today our most sacred law, even for the most heinous of crimes we never again take the life of another of our kind. We can exile, or imprison for eternity. We will not however shed the blood of another. Kolin wrote the Law himself and to this day it has only ever been broken but once. That is enough proof for me to believe that Kolin is real.

When Kolin left the shores of our homelands in Jotunheim with five hundred of our people, we called ourselves the Jotuns but on arrival on Salnikov we became Aeserian which in our ancient languages means 'The Free' and free we felt at last.

We landed at a delta surrounded by mountains, with a great river drifting into the distance. We marched north and found mountains, greater than our own and canyons deeper than ever before. Rivers wider and forests lush and green. Plentiful game filled the plains and valleys and each tree verily dripped with fruits exotic and delicious. We thought we found paradise and always we knew somewhere lay a special place we would settle permanently. We marched for months before we found her. Mesania. We saw the peak in the distance, lonely and regal stretching into the sky. We headed for the mesa at our greatest speed and came to its base and stood in awe of what the gods of nature we reverie could create. Here we believed we had our own gift from the gods. For the next five hundred years we delved and built, created canals in the rock and a mighty city on the apex that pointed high into the sky like the fingers of a god claiming the entire universe. Happiness descended on us and Kolin became our mentor and law maker and this is the title we finally bestowed on him. 'Kolin the Lawgiver.' It is a great title and one accurately given to the greatest of our kind.' Minar picked up a handful of stones and one by one tossed them into the fire.

'Why is it great things must come to a great ends and usually in tragic circumstances? 'While Kolin was our leader he was guilty of a lack of vigilance. He believed in the mesa providing our security and thought we left all enemies behind. He was wrong and our idleness became the makings of our downfall.

Out of no where they came, diminutive men who invaded our home. Their numbers much greater than our own and they assaulted us from within, somehow scaling our walls and entering our most sacred chambers in the heart of Mesania and the carnage began. Hundreds of us killed and maimed by the Invaders. Our dead lay in piles and we retreated into the bowls of the mountain in the hope of losing some of the enemy amongst the many caverns and canals. It was to no avail. The enemy kept coming and it was like holding back the tide with a spoon. Soon they defeated us with only a remnant of our people surviving and escaping again into the wild. Being so few in number we could not even call ourselves a race. No more than a hundred men remained and none of our women and children. We were desperate and alone but through all the murder Kolin managed to survive. Again he led us well and we trekked into the wild in the hope of somehow surviving. Kolin kept his thoughts to himself and if he had any plan, then he made none aware of it, rather relied on our trust in him to find the right path. We journeyed for years and could never find a place where we could survive. He led us into unlivable swamps and over vast desolate plains and finally through a mighty desert where the Aeserians thought they would surely die. When all seemed lost we saw a line of mountains in the distance and somehow Kolin knew them.

'These are the Protectorate Mountains,' he pronounced. 'They will be our sanctuary. They will protect us from all the evils of the outside and we will rebuild our race.'

The people, weary of travel, accepted anything Kolin said and he led us finally over the mountains and into a rich pasture land where we built 'The City.' As close to a replica of the city we built on Mesania as we could remember and it was beautiful and regal. We called it Salnikovia, the capital of the Aeserian race and although we toiled long in its building our numbers meant it took many years.' Minar poked the fire with a stick and added some more fuel, silent for a moment the night air cooling as the flames licked higher.'

At last we completed our task and although we had the material pleasures of a new home, the men of Salnikovia despaired because we missed the company of women and children. We are a long lived people compared to other creatures of the world but we would eventually die out if we could not procreate and all the work of hundreds of years would be in vain. Again Kolin had a grand plan and one day he announced he was leaving us for a time. With no explanation he departed and a sadness and insecurity fell over the people.

Days turned to weeks which turned to years and Kolin did not return. Life became easy and no one threatened the Aeserians as we continued to refine the city. Kolin was gone for so long, many thought he had decided never to return or some misfortune befell him in the unknown lands. However one day unheralded, came a long caravan of people, with beasts pulling wagons and at the head was Kolin laughing and singing as he led the group towards the city. The men of Salnikovia stood mouths agape when they saw with whom Kolin travelled. Valkyries, warrior maidens, a myth from our homelands believed to exist somewhere in antiquity of our legends, disappearing from our lives a millennium ago and here they stood before us, flesh and blood. Beautiful creatures. They stood as tall as our tallest men and glorious beyond description. Their sleek and powerful bodies and shining faces making everyone in Salnikovia remember what the glory of womanhood could be.

They marched into the city and Kolin told them our city was now theirs and together we would rebuild both our races for just as we could not grow in numbers so too they. For many they had never seen a man and for us it was so long without women, we did not know how to behave in front of them either. An embarrassed silence gripped both camps until finally Kolin asked the fairest of the Valkyries, Rania, if she would permit him to escort her to the dining halls and allow him to provide her with refreshments and a hearty meal.

Well Isaac, the tale goes with this initial gesture all the men chose a Valkyrie to partner him and the Valkerie accepted them and never more blissful a time did our people enjoy. The warrior maidens pierced our hearts with their beauty. They hunted better than any of the men and they could hold a sword along with our finest and they were equipped with voices so sweet a song passing over those lips sent the birds flying away in shame. Their femininity masked the tough sinew and muscles that made them so strong, but when they chose to be lovers then they did so with softness and patience, the gentlest women ever to draw breath. It appeared finally we were to have a happiness unknown to us for years.'

'So what of Kolin?' asked Isaac, engrossed in the big man's story. He could sense the genuine emotion Minar felt as he told it. He looked at Arad who sat silently his head bowed lost in his own thoughts.

'Kolin, our leader and Lawmaker became a victim of his own laws in the most tragic of circumstances. It is a tale worth telling in itself as the legend of the love of Rania and Kolin is one of our most precious gems. The two could not be separated. Their union and love radiated from their faces and they invigorated all they touched. They existed as a beacon of hope, an example of what two people could mean to each other. Their law was love and they would walk among the people with smiles dimming the sun. Where once stood two individuals, masters of their peoples, now stood one, together a spirit proud, strong and beautiful.

Kolin too, was another man. He was always perceived to be stern and cold but with Rania he was more often than not found singing songs, or sharing some jest with another or simply sitting quietly giving counsel to those with problems. He would sometimes write poetry which he would share in a quiet moment among his close friends. Always he wrote about Rania or of love or children. His favourite is still often quoted,

In childhood I was clumsy, frivolous and irrepressible.

In manhood I was sure-footed, considered and responsible.

In love I am clumsy and frivolous and irrepressible.

Never did our people have such happiness. We all waited in anticipation for surely there would be an heir conceived of two races, destined to lead us all into the next millennium. But as is so often the case, tragedy struck down our paradise.

One evening Kolin walked through the streets, enjoying the full moons shining on the city when he looked down an ally way and saw one of the Valkyrie women lying bleeding on the ground. At first he thought she had fallen or maybe had a few too many ambrosias so he bent down to see if he could assist. As he lifted the head he realised with a shock the one he held was his very own Rania, her life's blood seeping out of a vicious knife wound in her chest. He held her close and tears washed down his face as he saw her pass from this world, a soft kiss onto his great hand from her shining lips, her last touch. As she passed out of this life she uttered the words of her murderer 'Tyrel' later titled the Despised, and her hands dropped out of his and slapped onto the stones, the moon light glittering off the gold band on her finger Kolin gave her to confirm their partnership.

He lowered her head and stood straight, his head pointed towards the sky as he let out a deafening roar that shook the very walls of the city. He ripped the sword off his back and knocked down almost every door in the city in his search for his wife's killer. Most who saw him fled and hid from his wrath and those who tried to waylay and calm him, he dispatched with a swipe of his hand.

Finally he found Tyrel in a small drinking tavern in the centre of the premier spire and they battled. Tyrel fought with a strength none believed he possessed. It looked as if a demon took his body and infused it with complete hate giving him the strength of ten men. The fight ebbed and flowed, each man wounding the other with vicious cuts. The two threw down the walls of the tavern and rolled into the street forever parrying and stabbing as they sought some type of advantage. Each cut Kolin gave Tyrel was ignored and seemed only to infuriate him further whereas each blow landed true from Tyrel weakened Kolin dangerously. On bended knee and bleeding from many cuts Kolin looked up at his nemesis in despair and all who watched thought him defeated as Tyrel moved in for the final blow. The exhausted Kolin with his last piece of energy deflected the mortal blow of Tyrel and slew him with one mighty stroke, cleaving the murderer from head to waist and all whot witnessed the mighty battle watched as Tyrel evaporated in a mist of steam, his broken sword the only remains.

What devilry possessed Tyrel none knew and why, none could fathom. Kolin threw down his sword and collapsed, breathing in huge gasps and tearing at his hair with the pain of his loss. He stood and walked off without a word, leaving a disbelieving crowd to try and understand what they had just seen. Rumour of events spread like a raging fire through the city and soon every Aeserian was in deep debate as to what they would do with a leader who smashed his own laws, the greatest law, never to kill another Aeserian. They did not have to debate long.

Kolin knew what needed to be done as well as what the consequences of his actions were to be and immediately he marched to the meeting hall where every man and woman in the city converged. To a man and woman we wanted to forgive Kolin as if any had ever justification to slay another then surely Kolin was the exception, however it was not to be. It was here the great Kolin gave a resounding speech still remembered today some of which is embedded in stone in the city centre.' Minar stood as he embodied Koiln himself reciting from memory the speech.

'My people I have broken the most sacred of our laws. I have killed a man even though he is the same who murdered my Rania. I have now become no better than he whom I killed and the punishment is clear and appropriate. I will quit the city but not before I give a warning you should all heed. There is a cancer of jealousy and suspicion that has somehow crept unknown into our lives. We have survived the Invaders and the trek but now we are victims of our own people's actions and I have contributed to this problem in my indolence. Seek out those who do not want peace. Expel any who do not wish to live their lives as one of the true Aeserians, seek them out in every crevice and cranny and treat them with rough justice or in truth we will self destruct.'

With no further speech, he left the city and no rumour of him ever returned to Salnikovia. But the final hurt was even greater than our loss of Kolin. The Valkyrie, who also mourned the loss of their Rania suffered greatly and a they vowed to leave the city. We beseeched them to stay but they would have none of it. They spent the next six months building ships in the harbour and they took with them what female children they had, leaving us with our sons and heavy hearts. They could not forgive and our lives became a vacuum with more than half the women departing. As the years passed the women who remained grew in numbers but we vowed one day we would be worthy of the return of all the Valkyrie and again our society can be one.

So you see Isaac our history is glorious but at times marred by tragedy not unlike many others I am sure, but to us we know our future and have hopefully grown as a species and to this day we have never killed another of our kin.' Minar breathed heavily and sat placing his hands behind his head, staring at the milky sky above.

'From what I have seen of Hammer he seems intent on resurrecting some pretty ancient grudges and I take it you do not agree,' said Isaac who felt excited by the giant's story. He felt profoundly the reality of being trapped in this fantasy world and he needed to help these two good men in any way he could. The simple truths of good versus evil and respect and honour, they held as truly valuable and not enough people from his world did the same. I am only a man,' said Isaac. 'But I offer you my help if you will accept it.'

Arad looked up and Minar laughed without malice.

'You are only one man and we are two, but three is always better than two and you never know with Kolin we are four and already double the number who set out on this crusade. You are welcome Isaac, and this is a reason this war must be stopped. If you and I can be friends after a few days then why not both our races and we can live in peace and prosper together?'

Minar impressed Isaac. He thought him a visionary and a man not prone to ill-considered comment or action. He knew Minar had the character of a leader and in Arad there is one whose integrity could not be questioned. It seemed to him if there were to be some type of brave reconciliation of the two races, then these men could achieve it.

The three men finished their meals and washed their faces in the ocean and settled down to rest as best they could on the hard ground.

'Sleep well my friends because tomorrow we search for a legend.' Minar put his head down and fell immediately to sleep. The two moons briefly darkened as some thin clouds covered them and their light blinked off Minar's round face as the troupe fell into an exhausted sleep.
A pessimist said to an optimist,

" _We may all die if we vie with the Evil One,"_

and the optimist replied "or be reborn"

Jharnell 5/55-58
Chapter 6

'I have to tell you Le Bow, there is no doubt this is the most impressive staircase I have ever seen but there is no way I will be able to travel its length in one trip. I'm sorry but I must rest.'

Le Bow looked at Darion with sympathy and the two moved to one of the many landings poking out from the steps. Some existed as rest points while others led into the mountain and other chambers however none seemed to be as crowded as the mall he recently left. These parts appeared far more orderly and Darion could not see the mixture of colours on wrists of the individuals here compared to the Mall. As if reading his mind Le Bow spoke up.

'These are the Upper Ships of Mesania and are the living quarters of the purple and blue orders. They spend much of their time organising tasks for my order to perform many of which are completely without purpose but such is the lot of the underling.'

'Sounds a bit treasonous Le Bow. Don't they get angry when they hear such talk?'

'They have no need to get angry Darion. They know the orders are set and commands obeyed without question and as such I am of no threat to them. They call talk such as mine 'wind from the backside' and find some amusement in it I think?'

'Don't you ever feel you could aspire to a better job, or you are not satisfied with your lot and move to alter things.'

'Many do, myself included. It is a difficult thing to achieve. We need self belief. If you are told you are worthless enough times then people start to believe it,' said Le Bow without humour. 'This city and the entire Mesanian race exists in its present form precisely because we do not challenge what is and has been. If we did we would pit man against man and this would inevitably lead to conflict and possibly death. That would be a breakdown in everything we have worked towards for over a millennium. It is a huge decision to make. We cannot fight each other, and we cannot have anarchy, so we maintain the peace and this is specifically what the prelates of the Black Orders perpetuate.' Darion sensed Le Bow was not being entirely open about his feelings as if he were afraid to speak more openly.

'Personally I believe we can all be equal, as it once was. Today we have no immediate enemies but there are still strange things in this world and we must be prepared to one day fight against and it is then the Orders will come together again, when there is no distinction between white and blue. Only the black remain superior and because they are the Deacons and the guardians of our lore. The black rule over all others and answer only to the authority of the Seeress Mara who inherited her position when there was no regal head left from our treks. She is the titular head of our people and much more than a mere ceremonial role. She has utter power and along with her black army, holds sway over all others. We cannot ever progress to become a black. We are locked in our stations. We can never become blacks just as they can never become yellow.'

Le Bow pondered what he had just said as if he did not really believe it himself.

'You must have a very different form of government past the Ice Mountain,' he said quickly. 'I would like to hear about it while we rest.'

Darion knew there would be a time when he would need to prove himself and he had been preparing what he thought to be a credible story of his imaginary homeland. He was confident he could leave the listener satisfied without giving too much detail. His was not however prepared for questions of governance. He decided he would speak about what he always thought his dream world to be and hoped he could find some parallels with Le Bows own desires.

'Our people and our lands are simple,' started Darion. 'We crave nothing more than to live well, rear our children in a safe environment while remembering the lessons of our past so we do not repeat mistakes in the future. It is a simple philosophy but one we are always striving to maintain. I would not say we have been completely successful thus far, but our community is small and we are relatively happy."

'Relatively happy? How so?' said an intrigued Le Bow.

'There are always doubters Le Bow. Those who place themselves first and try to exploit others to achieve a position of power within the community. It is these people we must be most wary of for they will pretend to have your welfare at stake. What they really want is to feather their own nests.'

'Feather their own nests,' chuckled Le Bow. 'You have a wonderful way with words. Do all your people have this skill?'

Darion realised all the adages ever uttered in his own world were new here. He suddenly had a wealth of knowledge making him sound eloquent and wise even though he knew himself to be neither.

The need for humility pecked at his conscience but the temptation to appear superior became too great an opportunity to refuse.

'We all learn to tell tales. We have little written history. We farm the land and this leaves little time for schooling and so we pass our lore to our sons orally.'

Darion could see himself showing off and could not help himself. He knew he should sit in the background and observe the society he had landed in and maybe assimilate quietly not become a braggart. His ego took over as he saw his audience salivating at the prospect of news from far away lands and as no-one could challenge what he said, he expanded his lies freely.

'There are tales of how we came to this world but no where does it speak of travelling across endless seas, chased by a great evil, so I do not think we are sourced from the same stock. Ours is much more banal than all that, although we too travelled a great distance to settle but from the south and the east and not the west.'

The steady flow of people abated and the two friends were alone for the present and Darion felt at ease in this new environment especially with an expert guide. His defences also relaxed and he spoke as if he really did come from the places he invented.

'We do not have royalty but an elected counsel we ensure represent all people in our community. There are the aged, and women as well as our warriors and our farmers so collectively all views are heard. The elected gain no extra favour from the rest of us and they hold the positions voluntarily and for free. We do not discuss the machinations of the wider world but talk largely of simple things such as village security from the dangers around us and when the best time to harvest and how much is left to trade with our neighbours. We therefore have government by the people and we can find no better system.'

'Who then do you worship?' asked Le Bow who looked at Darion with wide childlike eyes in their innocence.

Darion thought about this carefully before he answered. He knew many religions. The beautifully constructed Mahayana and Theravadan Buddhism, Hindu with its tens of thousands of gods, the eclectic Shinto and Zen Buddhism and the erudite Confucianism. The one he always found the most peaceful was Buddhism and he quoted the Eight Fold Path to Le Bow as if he had created it himself.

'We believe in sharing the world in which we live Le Bow, and through a correct course of actions throughout our lives we believe we will find an everlasting peace. We believe in understanding, purpose, behaviour and right living as some of our tenets. There is more but it all sustains us and ensures we only do unto others as you would wish done to you.'

Le Bow felt breathless and overwhelmed at the feeling of exhilaration spreading through him. Never had he felt so alive. The ideas from this stranger exhilarated him and he had never heard such ideas uttered in his lifetime. These went much farther than his petty grumblings. These ideas possessed substance and could be grasped with two hands and wielded like a sword to change the world.

'These are great words,' he said at last. 'You must repeat them for me and some others as soon as possible, tonight in my quarters, I must arrange it now.'

Darion grabbed at Le Bow's yellow wrist to stop him from running off.

'Wait Le Bow, aren't we nearly at the top. Now we are here can't we at least have a peak at the summit of this infernal staircase,' said Darion in a minor panic. He could have kicked himself for a fool because on top of everything else it looks as if he has set the ground swell of a revolution in progress and he didn't want to be seen as some sort of sage to these people. All he really wanted to do was go home. Luckily for him Le Bow had a sensible side once all the adrenaline subsided.

'Of course Darion, I ask you some simple questions and then explode off into the distance I don't know what you must think, but I am not a type to ravel himself in wild fancies. Perhaps I am, as you say, looking for change but not ready to admit it. Lets walk.'

To Darion the walk became a substantial climb and each step an effort in itself. Eventually they reached the last step and they now stood in a very large and well lit tunnel made entirely of what looked to Darion like glass but opaque and solid like plastic. The two men walked easily now as the tunnel curved around a slow corner and white sun light poured into an opening ahead, blinding both of the men for a few seconds as their eyes adjusted.

They reached the end of the tunnel and stepped into the open on top of the mesa, its flatness stretching for miles ahead of him, a brisk cool breeze brushing his face. Darion looked in awe around him. If he thought the view from the ledge was impressive he had no way to prepare himself for what he saw. This portion of the mesa was higher than the rest and he could clearly see the sharp edges of the mountain around him dropping to the world of Salnikov. It looked as if the mesa was the core of the entire planet. Hundreds of miles of land could be seen stretching interminably into the distance.

They kept walking along some carved roads for around ten minutes until they reached the nearest edge of the mesa and they sat on an edge as defined as the edge of a table, thousands of years of weathering appearing to have little effect on the mountain. Darion expected a severe vertigo however the steepness of the Mesa seemed less than he thought. He felt he could slide down it without danger to the plain below and out to the forests stretching to the mountains and the sea. Birds flew many hundreds of feet below him and he heard such a silence he could not believe existed growing up in a city. It was the most powerful peace he had ever felt and he instantly saw why Le Bow loved this land. He looked over his shoulder and saw the remainder of the city spreading upwards like the stalks of some exotic flower. The towers looked like an ice berg with nine tenths of the city under ground but the one tenth above the mesa was spectacular. The stalagmites of the glass towers reflecting the sun uncannily upwards so each spire shot a plume of sunlight straight up. He could not even guess how long such a thing would take to create.

'I know you say you did not build this but you must stand in awe of those that did?' said Darion.

'We are told by the Blacks we should stand in awe of ourselves for defeating such creatures,' said Le Bow. 'I believe however, as you do, it is easier to conquer than to build. They were a mighty race for sure. Come and see the looking glasses.'

The two friends walked towards a promontory fenced with rock jutting out further than the rest of the mesa. Two clear crystals sat in a fork of rock pointing towards the north east.

'Place your eyes against the glass,' said Le Bow.

Darion looked through the crystals magnifying like binoculars. A rush of images leapt before him. He could see clearly the forests below and the small animals scurrying for food. He tipped the crystals up and the mountains jumped towards him with their snow peaks and craggy base. As he looked further east he could see the Ice Mountain, its vastness dwarfing even the tallest of the other mountains. Through a gap at the mountain's base he could see the line of ocean meeting the horizon. As he twisted the crystal left and right he had a panoramic view of his new world. To the south he saw a mighty canyon and past it a bright river disappearing into the distance. The city blocked much of the view north but east he could see the same river swinging past the mesa and driving north. Further west he could see a mist of swamp land, its gasses sitting low to the ground and another blue line Le Bow said was an ancient inland sea none now travel. Rumors and tales of monsters and death to the east filled their history books and none wished to try and explore these lands. Darion raised his head from the crystals. He now possessed some more vital information to sustain the lies he is about to tell.

'It is startling is it not?' said Le Bow. 'Although I am trapped to my order one day I will travel to some of these regions I can only visit through the glasses and I will not return but keep going until I have found a new horizon to chase and I will never stop until I have crossed all the oceans and seen the land of my fathers and am known throughout the world.'

Le Bow smiled but Darion knew inwardly the young man doubted his dreams would ever be fulfilled. It seemed their life was mapped from birth and escape from their Order was not permitted or generally desired.

'That dark spot to the south amongst the forest, what is that? It looks like a settlement?' asked Darion.

'That is our Southern Sentinel and further south still you come to the Silver City a beautiful and functional trade station. I have never been there either. That is the reserve of the merchant class, the Purples. I hear tell the city is the heart beat of the southern realm.'

Although he should feel more comfortable after Le Bow shared some of the city's secrets, Darion felt an unease creep over him. He now believed it critical to have as little contact with the Black Order as possible as their knowledge would be superior to Le Bow's and they could easily unmask him as a fraud. Secondly he could not see in all this vastness how he would ever find Isaac. He knew Isaac may well be in the same position, so his best option was to find the old man. Le Bow could help him and maybe the two of them could search the city but if there was no sign of him then he would have to look in other parts which he could not do without help. One step at a time thought Darion. First consolidate my relationships with Le Bow and his people and then enlist their help.

Le Bow and Darion left the viewing area and made their way back to the staircase, Darion particularly happy the descent should be much easier. On their way down two Blacks effortlessly glided up the stairs. With no way to avoid them Le Bow moved to the far side of the stairs taking Darion with him. As the two groups passed the Black stopped and faced Darion who immediately felt his heart race.

'You are visiting for the Ceremony no doubt,' said the first whose face was hidden by a cowl pulled up over from the back of his head. Darion did not know whether this was a question or whether the Black was stating a fact. Either way he chose to remain silent.

'And you are one of the guides,' said the second again in an ambiguous manner. The two friends said nothing and tried to avoid eye contact with the Blacks when one threw back his cowl and studied Darion knowingly.

'Your arrival is foreseen. You are to come with me.'

Three guards emerged from a side platform and surrounded Darion and without a word pushed him forward and down a few more stairs and into a side canal leading off the stairs. The two Blacks followed and Le Bow stood watching their departure, powerless to intervene or even question the motives of his superiors.

'Where are you taking me?' asked Darion after a few minutes. The Blacks walked in silence and he intuitively knew these men would only speak when they chose. Although nervous he decided to met each challenge as it presented itself rather than try to second guess what was happening which he really had no ability to do successfully anyway.

His guards led him into a large and ornate chamber whose tall timber doors on large iron hinges opened automatically as they approached and closed securely after they passed. In front of him a golden throne with a back stretching to the height of chamber's ceiling filled that end of the room. Darion could see the size of the throne a legacy of the previous occupants rather than something recently built.

More worryingly for him were tens of Black Order who formed a semi circle in front of the throne, leaving only the front portion accessible. Monk like, none of the creatures spoke and Darion felt he needed to break the silence himself when the loud peeling of a bell saved him the trouble. The procession of Blacks all lowered their heads as a woman or what Darion assumed to be a woman, draped in a neck to toe robe of deep blue entered the chambers and glided towards the throne. She stood over a foot taller than the men and she moved gracefully across the floor as two steps appeared before the throne in front of her. She sat quietly looking straight at Darion who returned the look with as confident a manner as he could muster.

The Black who first spoke moved next to him. 'Behold the Seeress Mara let all praise her with great praise.'

He placed a strong hand behind Darion pushing him towards the woman and forced him to his knees. Now much closer Darion could see the features of the seeress and shuddered. Her eyes seemed hollow and empty and she did not appear to have any eyelids. Her black sockets stared vacantly back at a revolted Darion.

'This is the one,' she stated in a baritone voice emanating not from her mouth but more so out of the air around them. 'I can feel his Verve. It is as powerful as we have believed it would be.' Her head remained still but her vacant eyes pierced Darion like an ice pick making him wince in pain.

'What does he know Li Chi?' asked the seeress.

'We do not know wise one,' said the Black robe who arrested Darion. 'We found him speaking with one of the Yellow guides. His Verve drew us to him. He did not resist as we expected and did not try to overpower us although we knew he could.'

'There is much to learn of him then.' The seeress spoke directly to Darion for the first time.

'Do you come to rescue us Rok or do you come to condemn us?'

Darion knew he needed to answer without hesitation. He had to be confident.

'I come for neither as I am a mere traveller who is here for the Ceremony.' Darion felt his statement to be utterly transparent but it was the only story he had and should they speak to Le Bow, which he felt certain they would, he needed to keep some consistency.

'You convict yourself with your lies,' said the seeress steadily. 'With whom do you think you speak? I see through to the very soul of your being and I know in an instant when an untruth is uttered. The Jarnell claims you are the Rok and your Verve confirms it to us. All that is left to establish is whether you are the Rok of Salvation or that of Condemnation. Which is it?'

Darion felt the threat in her voice like a slap in the face the malice dripping off her tongue. With no alternatives and no capacity to debate on something he had no idea about, he thought he should go on the attack as the best form of defence.

'I restate my case. I am a traveller invited here to your ceremonies to celebrate the great victory and without my leave you drag me into these chambers and accuse me of some crime of which I have no knowledge. The world renowned hospitality of the Mesanian city seems to have diminished. I demand you explain yourself this instant.' He threw the last bit in hoping to show his utter indignation.

He looked sternly at the seeress who appeared to be confused.

'The Jarnell is not wrong,' she stammered. 'We have been waiting for the arrival of the incarnation of the Rok of Fate who will either destroy us or strengthen us and here you are. Surely you do not challenge the authority of the righteous book?'

The seeress stated the last with authority almost forcing Darion to make some sort of blasphemous statement. He had heard of the Jarnell three times now and realised it must be as holy to these people as the Bible or Qur'an is to people from his own world. He also knew how people treated heretics in some places and he did not want to appear contemptuous of their beliefs.

'I say also the Jarnell is not wrong,' said Darion warily. 'It is a book of truths however those who interpret it are sometimes fallible and may incorrectly read it.' He knew this directly challenged the seeress but it was a gamble he had to take. He needed to place doubt in the minds of his prosecutors to at least gain him some time so he could discover exactly what he is supposed to represent. 'Or are these mighty people in front of me more perfect than the book.?' He said in a more forceful tone.

Darion could feel the tension building in the room. Mara the Seeress did not seem accustomed to being challenged and certainly not in front of her prelates.

'You speak cleverly Rok, but you forget I hear all spoken words and most words only thought and I know you are already sewing seeds of discontent within the Yellow order. Do not deny this for it has been heard.' Mara did not wait for Darion to answer. She could see the effect the conversation had on the Black around her, their doubts etched on each face. She looked again at the man in front of her and examined her own doubts. His mind felt different than any others she had felt. It carried thoughts familiar to her but also millions of others she could not understand and as a result his mind energy was confusing and difficult to fathom. He also had a confidence she was wary of and finally his Verve or spirit was so dense it was almost physical rather than abstract. She decided he posed a threat and must be killed but in a way demonstrating her judgement to be wise and just. He must therefore convict himself.

'I will pass my Judgement but first you will answer me one question.' Her hollow eyes glowed and a slight smile revealed yellowing teeth. 'Ygglinsk camar heim?'

While Darion listened to the seeress he also scouted the room around him searching for some avenue of escape if running became his only option. The Blacks had not closed the semi circle they initially formed and Darion sensed rather than knew no one stood directly behind him and only the one called Li Chi immediately next to him. The doors he came through had closed and there did not seem to be any others and to make matters worse he knew the seeress did not believe he was who he said and now asked him a question in what appeared to be some dialect he would be expected to know. He did not like the way she kept calling him Rok. He was outnumbered twenty to one and even if he wasn't he knew he was not the type to be able to fight off more than one person at a time and even then he would likely lose.

With as much confidence as he could muster he took a few bold steps towards Mara and smiled broadly into her hollow face. The black robes stood calmly and did not try to inhibit him very likely knowing Mara possessed her own defenses. In a few steps Darion was within arms reach of the seeress. He felt a dull pain in his head the closer he approached but pushing it to one side and concentrated on the seeress.

Mara saw him approach and reached into his mind to read his intentions but the confusion she first detected masked most of Darion's thoughts. Too late she sensed danger. Without warning Darion leapt onto the throne dais and grabbed the seeress's arm and wrenched it behind her back, pushing the right one up her back until she let out a howl of pain. He felt a pang of remorse from hurting her but also knew if he let go he would be in a much worse position. Dragging her of the throne he screamed at the Black to halt as they moved instantly to the seeress's aid.

'Get away or I will break her neck,' he cried. The Blacks began retreating and Darion inched Mara towards the side of the throne where she originally entered rationalising if she came this way there must be a door or room somewhere. The tall woman's feet dragged on the floor, slowing his escape but he could not let her go. Although quite a large and an impressive figure the woman weighted very little, not much more than a small child and he hoisted her onto his shoulder, shuffling across the floor screaming threats to waylay the pursuit of her servants.

Behind the throne Darion found an empty room not unlike a presbytery in a church. He threw the woman down and closed the door pushing a long timber sleeper into a cradle on its back. As his initial panic and adrenaline subsided, he found himself getting angrier and angrier, the last few days finally building up inside him and the frustration of not being able to get home becoming too much. He grabbed the woman by her shirt and thrust his face right in front of her hollow eyes.

'Now listen here, I don't give a damn about you or your miserable Black order. All I care about is getting home from where I came from and you are stopping me from doing that. Now I am going to ask You a question and if you don't answer me I will wring your scrawny little neck do you understand?' Without waiting for an answer Darion continued. 'Where is the exit from this room and how do I get back to the staircase?' Darion thought if he could reach the stairs he could just about find his way back to the Lower Ships with the intention of returning for a little while to the antechamber he originally came out of. If Le Bow's people had not found the trophy room in a thousand years then he felt confident he would be safe there for a while before he could work on a plan to escape. He needed to move quickly before the Blacks could cut off all escape routes.

The Seeress was almost catatonic with fear and anger. No one had ever touched her in such a manner and certainly never spoken to her like she was the slave. She did not need to read this man's thoughts, she knew if she did not do exactly as he said he would do harm to her but worse she now knew she had found the Rok of Condemnation. The Blacks were thumping fists on the doors and shortly these were replaced by a heavy timber battering making the door creak at the hinges. She considered stalling but the grip around her neck slowly tightened.

'Last chance,' said Darion as the squeezed tightened.

She pointed towards the furtherest wall and Darion could see a small closed door. He could not afford to take her with him so he had to trust the Blacks were not quick enough to have already blocked the other side. He pushed the seeress up against the wall and lunged across the room pulling the door open and sprinting down a deserted corridor running parallel to Mara's chambers. He quickly reached the staircase and ran down the stairwell as fast as he dared, the walls to either side a blur. He only once looked back over his shoulder and he saw a sea of Black amuleted men following. His biggest worry came from the things he did not know. He did not know the numbers he faced, what a Rok was and what sort of communications existed in such a vast place. Logic would demand with thousands of years of residence they must have developed some form of communications otherwise the top levels and the bottom would rarely know what the other did. He pondered the problem as he ran when he saw maybe a hundred feet below him another group of Blacks approaching this time with fifty or so Blue and Purple orders with them blocking his descent. Out of some side tunnels below several Blue and Purples rushed towards him. He just about gave up hope when an arm came out of a side alley and pulled him inside.

'We better hurry,' said Le Bow who started laughing like a lune. 'We haven't seen so much stir in a hundred years, make that five hundred years. You have just become the most wanted man in all of Mesania, what in the name of all the gods have you done?'

'I would love to stop and tell you but as you see we are in a bit of a rush at present do you have any ideas?'

'Don't worry, I know this city better than any others, these Black and the rest run like sloths, we will be out of their reach in a few moments, but we will not be able to return to my rooms as I am sure they will be watched.'

Le Bow impelled Darion forward giggling the entire time and the two sprinted down some much narrower alley ways emerging in a darkened tunnel lit by some feeble torches. Le Bow pulled on one of the torches and another dimly lit channel opened before them and they stole down it trying to make as little noise as possible.

Just as he promised, Le Bow seemed to know every crease in the walls of the mesa and soon Darion became completely disorientated and as such dependent wholly on Le Bow. The pair entered a brighter tunnel leading almost straight down in a spiral necessitating both of them to hold onto the walls as they descended. Here the tunnel narrowed more than any place he had yet seen but still wide enough for them both to travel speedily. A few minutes later the tunnel flattened out and they made even better speed and not once did they encounter another person. Darion tried to speak to Le Bow but he seemed to be concentrating hard on their route but he would occasionally stop and listen carefully to the walls around him sometimes pressing his ear against some holes in the rock and counting softly on his hands, his chest heaving from the sprint. Just as suddenly he would leap into a run and open some other secreted alley way.

They travelled like this for close to an hour before they ended at a small opening in the rock that could not even be called a door. Le Bow crouched down and tapped lightly against one corner until a sliver of light appeared from above and a face looked warily out at the two bent and heaving figures below.

Seconds later a hatch opened and Darion and Le Bow disappeared into it. Immediately a group of men surrounded them each holding a sword at their throats. They seemed to recognise Le Bow instantly but kept their weapons drawn until a taller man came up behind them.

'Le Bow, you risk much coming here unannounced?' said the man Darion could tell was their leader.

'I know the laws, but we have cheated Mara of another sacrifice and this one I know you will be happy with as here with me is the one called Darion whom I found wandering in the markets'

The taller man eyed Darion knowingly and extended a gloved hand which Darion took in the traditional grip of goodwill and to show hands empty of weapons.

'Well met Darion. My name is Le Tare, I have heard of your arrival from beyond the Ice Mountain and I am eager to speak with you, but first we must secure the entrance so if you please.'

Le Tare motioned for Le Bow and Darion to move away from the entrance and within seconds men took up position above and around the door and peered through tiny peep holes at the area outside the door and up the corridor beyond. Darion looked around. He had arrived in some type of armory or at least military quarters. Bunk beds lined the walls and as they moved further into the rooms they saw dining tables and other larger communal facilities where many men talked softly to each other and studied parchments. The room had a heavy air he guessed as much from the density of human flesh as from the tension the men displayed from their body language. Hushed voices spoken behind open palms. They looked like an army eager and ready to enter a battle, the lack of action frustrating them.

Each person they passed gave them suspicious and long looks and Darion felt he was being scrutinised from every angle. He in turn returned the stares with a straight face and serious aspect. These men with chiseled faces looked like professional and hardened soldiers each determining if he posed a threat and deciding how best to kill him if matters required it. The scanning made him feel very vulnerable. For the second time today he was at the mercy of others and this group seemed far more formidable than Mara and her prelates.

Finally after a lengthy walk they emerged into a largish room, with lounge chairs, an open fire and a pleasant feel. Couches and tables gave the room a softer ambiance than the rest of the tunnels and the warm aroma of baked treats wafted around them. The light coming from the open fire was inviting and soothing. Darion felt silly, with all the mystery around him, all he could think of was how long the flume taking the smoke away from the mountains heart would be.

After he spoke to some of his men, Le Tare followed Le Bow and Darion into the room and sat in a large central chair. The men accepted a plate of assorted breads and a mug of a steamy broth tasting like thick beer and Le Tare finally relaxed enough to listen to the two friends.

'You two have certainly caused a commotion,' said Le Tare. 'Seems every Black in Mesania is searching for you. Tell me Darion did you really assault the Seeress for if you did it was a manly task and well done. The woman has a power over others difficult to battle, however you seem no worse for the encounter?'

'Well all I really did was ask her for directions and she was very helpful once I convinced her that it was in her best interests to co operate.'

Le Tare laughed hard and the metal on his jerkin sung as it bounced on his broad chest.

'I wish I had seen it. Now though, I am afraid the both of you are wanted men. There is no way you would be able to go back to your home now Le Bow. It will be watched closely.'

'I have had enough of Lesser and Greater Ships Le Tare, it is time we made our stand. I never thought I could leave my birth place but after speaking to Darion the juices of revolution are flowing through my veins. You need to hear his words for they inspire men.'

Darion cringed inside. Le Bow built him up to be something he could not sustain. He did not want to be a revolutionary particularly as it usually meant at some stage there would be bloodshed and he had no intention of shedding someone else's or more importantly his own. He needed to dampen down the fires that grew in these people.

'I have said all this before but I will say it again, I come from farming stock and am no way a leader of men. My tenets are simply that of my father's and not my own. I want only peace and the right to leave free.'

Le Tare said nothing absorbing Darion's words. After another bite of his bread he spoke in a very disarming fashion and to Darion in a way that seemed to suggest he knew more of Darion's real past than he should.

'The Jarnell is a book the Seeress quotes as if she wrote it, however in one matter we are in accord. We both believe Fate is about to visit us in a human form. The Rok of Salvation and the Rok of Condemnation is nigh and I think I have finally discovered what these riddles mean for us. You are no doubt the Rok, for it is ordained you will arrive from simple stock and deny your own destiny. You come from places far but near and know our customs although you do not live amongst us. No, you are the Rok but for us you are the Rok of Salvation and for Mara you are the Rok of Condemnation, that is the answer to the riddle, you are all things to all men regardless of their beliefs. Do not try to deny it or do so if that is your will, but either way, each word from your mouth further confirms my hypothesis.'

Le Bow entered the debate in a rush of enthusiasm. 'He speaks of a classless world where all men are equal and represented in great counsels. We could achieve this vision and never again be relegated to a life of servitude. I know he is the Rok and I for one will follow him.'

'As will I Le Bow. First we need to ensure there are people to follow and not corpses. You have awakened the city against us and all will now be taking sides either with Mara or for us. The times are about to change,' he said with resignation rather than enthusiasm in his voice. Le Tare knew soon people would die defending their beliefs and it distressed him how he may contribute to anyone's death.

'I think you will have to spend the rest of the campaign with us Le Bow. We can provide you with all your needs.'

Le Bow relaxed drifting into a romantic world of change when he suddenly sat bolt upright in his seat. 'Le Carra, my sister, I must go to her. The Blacks will surely arrest her as my sister, I cannot let that happen.' He sprang up and out of the room before anyone could stop him and headed for the door knocking confused men out of his way as he went.

Darion watched his friend disappear down the tunnel and stood to follow.

'Does he always do that?' he asked Le Tare.

Le Tare did not move but merely took another sip of his broth as he looked at Darion. 'He is impetuous our friend, and has always been so. That is the reserve of youth. Do not worry, he cannot go far, all the entrances are locked.'

In spite of Le Tare's words Darion also felt like he needed to rush back to Le Bow's home. He had not forgotten the moment in the bedroom and try as he might the image of the beautiful Le Carra filled his mind every time he closed his eyes. He tried to admonish himself and look at the facts. Firstly he did not believe a woman so beautiful would ever be attracted to him and more importantly his goals were to leave as soon as possible and even if she did seem interested he could not morally have a relationship with her when he knew he would be leaving. On the other side he knew he was instantly in love with the girl and he kicked himself for his foolishness. His mind became a jumble. Too many things were happening to him. He became a mix of personalities. A messiah and revolutionary leader, a vagabond, a vandal of the wonderful trophy room and an outlaw to name a few. At this moment he added 'frivolous' to the list as he followed Le Bow, knowing he also needed to protect Le Carra.

'Le Bow may be impetuous but he is my friend and his sister is a rare woman indeed and I will help him protect her, so by your leave I would go with him.'

'By all the gods you two are born of the same parents if my judgement is true. Do not rush into the unknown. We also know Le Carra and want to keep her safe but perhaps we work our a strategy together rather than walk straight into the dungeons. The Blacks are very powerful but perhaps not as you think. Their physical form is no different than our own however they possess a high degree of prescience and are diviners of future events. It is said some are so powerful they can strip a man of his thoughts and replace them with their own or attack a mind with a Psy blast rendering the individual an senseless. We must be extremely wary when encountering them and even more so if we are to challenge them. Our advantage lies in their arrogance and belief in their own infallibility. They would never entertain an uprising against them being at all successful and they may well be correct if we do not prepare carefully. Sit Darion, our friend will be returned to us shortly. He considers himself quite elusive however my men are the better. They will capture him in moments.'

Darion sat down wondering what new problems lay before him, when Le Bow's head appeared horizontally around the corner closely followed by the rest of him. Four laughing guards dropped him unceremoniously in front of Le Tare's feet and left slapping each other on the back.

An indignant Le Bow straightened his cloths and looked angrily at Le Tare.

;That was not necessary Le Tare, they threw me around like a sack of potatoes.'

'You better sit down, have a drink and think, because if you left here in that state of mind the Blacks would have made you potato mash and your sister still would not have been any better off.'

'Maybe,' said Le Bow who had problems with the arms of his cloak. 'At least I would have gone down fighting and not hold away like skulking rats afraid to show their faces lest they have to prove there are actions behind their brave words.'

Le Tare leapt to his feet in anger and Le Bow moved towards him threateningly and the two would have come to blows when Darion jumped between them.

'Stop this nonsense,' he commanded in a voice of authority freezing the two in their tracks. 'You are doing the Blacks work for them by fighting amongst yourselves. Why not save your energy for them.'

Both Le Bow and Le Tare stared at Darion with respect. 'It is as the Jarnell states,' said Le Tare. 'For he who comes to lead us will command with a word and lead with an action.'

The two men relaxed and grasped each other by the wrists placing their other arm around the others neck.

'We are brothers,' said Le Tare. 'I am sorry.'

'As am I,' said Le Bow. 'My anxiousness for my sister made me mad for a moment but now I am sober and will listen to you both, but if I could urge haste as my sister is my life.'

'So be it then,' said Le Tare. 'Let us rescue Le Carra and if nothing else we will be an even greater annoyance to Mara and her priests until the time soon when we will pester them to repentance.'

Without another word the room filled with men, all talking among themselves but with a kind of chaotic order. They each appeared to Darion to have a pre programmed function and they moved rapidly and with purpose until they all stood in ordered clusters waiting for Le Tare to speak.

'This is the nucleus of the rebellion,' said Le Tare to Darion. These men have left their homes and their families because they have a greater belief the way of the world must be changed so all of us have parity, regardless of their heritage. I have dreamt all my life of breaking out of the shackles imposed on me and one day turn the Blacks out of Mesania. Until now we were direction less. I see clearly today what we must do.'

He turned to face the throng of people now numbering somewhere near a hundred all heavily armed and with grim faces. Some wore their traditional yellow and white amulets while the others wore what Darion thought to be akin to army fatigues, deep brown and grey camouflaging them well against the Mesanian rocks.

'The Jarnell speaks of one who will lead us with Affirmation, who comes unexpectedly and drives our passions with brief words. It is he whom stands among you today.'

A collective gasp escaped from the lips of the men as they stared at Darion with wonder.

'I have often pondered what form the rebellion would take as we toiled away in our caverns. Now it is obvious to me and how beautiful is our destiny. We go to rescue a woman. The most beautiful in all the Ships. The wondrous Le Carra whom we all know and love. She is in imminent danger from the Blacks who as we speak seek to lure Le Bow with threats against his kindred sister as they know he assoaciates with the Rok. We will not let this happen and we will shed our blood in resistance. I know our victory, the First victory, will be assured for we are linked with the destiny of Darion, now known as the Rok of Salvation and his destiny is written in the Jarnell. Meet him and speak with him. He is no god but a man of vision and his words I swear are true and proper.'

Darion felt himself punctured by the eyes in the room. What was he to do? He could not simply deny their claims. The passion in their eyes and voices meant he knew he was among a group who possessed true virtue and honour and a part of him wished to share that honour and save Le Carra. To dismiss their claims on him could do everlasting damage to their cause, however he did not want to be the martyr head of a rebellion but in this wonder world he had entered he needed to take a side.

He swallowed hard and met the eyes of the resistance. 'You believe me to be some sort of sage or warrior and I am neither. What I am is a man who believes in natural justice and the right to live free and without persecution. These rights are inalienable and the most worthy of ideals to defend. So I say to you that YES we must rescue the innocent and defend those with no capacity to defend themselves and YES we must sometimes sacrifice security and comfort to do so and the rewards will be tenfold the sacrifice if successful and success will be marked by the shedding of the chains binding you and the trampling of the black oppressors.'

Darion felt alive, every corpuscle in his body tingling with excitement. The words rolled out of his mouth as if they came from someone else and they had a profound power over Le Tare's people. The room simmered with nationalistic fervour Darion thought could get half of the men in the room killed from impetuousness. He needed to temper the mood as the grunts of approval became chants and intonations of impending battle.

'Stop,' he bellowed, silencing the voices. 'We must be careful, for where I come from many a revolution has failed from a lack of planning and emotion dictating actions. The rush of adrenaline can carry one to places of gravest danger. So listen to Le Tare for I suspect he is a man of superior strategy and if we are to win we may have to do so in small victories over time than one crushing one. So let us rescue Le Carra and record the first victory on the pathway to freedom.'

The people burst into cheering which took a good five minutes to quell, as the men beat their shields with their swords and thumped metal clad chests with iron covered fists. Darion felt quite pleased with himself. He had not committed himself completely and stalled any unthinking actions that could get people killed, while leaving Le Tare in charge which should allow him to eventually fade into the background once Le Carra was safe. All in all he thought this a pretty good result.

Le Bow stood on a table and his voice again charged the crowd. 'Behold Darion the Rok of Condemnation for the Blacks and the Rok of Salvation for the people of Mesania who will lead us to victory.'

The crowd erupted with renewed vigour a chorus of ROK,ROK,ROK echoing throughout he chambers.

So much for that plan thought Darion.

Le Tare raised a hand to calm the soldiers until he had the attention of the group and began discussing strategies. As he spoke, Darion realised how much of an advantage the rebels could have. Apparently the caves of Mesania were even more honeycombed than Darion imagined and Le Tare's men had discovered just about all their secrets, which meant they could effectively travel throughout the mesa without detection, emerging out of secret doors remained hidden from the Blacks for centuries. Evidently however they had not found the lost trophy room Darion escaped from, for which he was grateful.

Their numbers were not as great as the enemy, however the value of the surprise attacks and departures they could effect meant they could very easily conduct a guerilla campaign to frustrate and eventually weaken the current political structure.

Le Tare decided the first foray of the rebellion would be conducted by a small and well trained core of soldiers including Darion and Le Bow and they would sweep through the hidden tunnels and come out at Le Bow's quarters in the Lesser Ships dispatching the expected guards and taking Le Carra with them. Their only problem would be guessing how large the contingent of guards would be and how well armed. If the guards had no forewarning of the attacks then success would be assured.

Darion's opinion of Le Tare increased dramatically when he advised the rebels not to needlessly kill any of the guards who merely did the job of a soldier and if they could surprise them sufficiently then they may be able to make them throw down their weapons. If however any doubt existed about safety, then they needed to kill swiftly and deftly and ensure the victims suffered as little as possible. He suggested decapitation as the most effective way of killing them. Darion thought him a real humanitarian.

In a few hours the group gathered at the entrance. Although small, Darion thought it a formidable bunch and knew if hostilities broke out, these men would be able to handle any and all oppositions without him getting in the way. Apart from himself there was Le Tare, who led the team, Le Bow and four others who Le Tare said were the best swordsmen in the rebellion. Le Tibor, who won every internal training challenge and was even credited with the slaughtering of a stray Ratite, which Darion learnt was a giant bird, that once landed on the roof of Mesania when Le Tibor was only a lad of seventeen. Next stood Le Vulk, a huge man standing a head taller than the rest and whom Darion assumed was completely mute as he did not speak even when introduced and had such a physical presence Le Bow told him the mere sight of him would win most battles. He squeezed Darion's hand in a vice-like grip bringing a tears to his eyes. Le Vulk walked away oblivious to the pain he left behind. On the floor near the entrance, polishing a long blade sat Le Fidler, who appeared as opposite of Le Vulk physically as Darion thought possible being more slightly built than the women he had seen. Darion looked at him sceptically and as if reading his mind Le Fidler grabbed him by the wrist and turned it an unnatural 90 degrees until Darion yelped in pain. Immediately a very sharp looking razor blade appeared under Darion's chin, followed by a playful chuckle as Le Fidler relaxed his grip. The men in the room laughed loudly as Le Fidler twirled the blade between his thumb and fore finger and sheathed the weapon in a hidden scabbard under his cloak. He slapped Darion hard on the back.

'Not everything is as it seems Rok Darion. We all have our special skills and mine is disarming foes with my apparent harmlessness. Don't worry, you are not the first to misjudge me and for me to be effective it is important that you do.'

Darion felt a little intimidated, as he rubbed the crushed hand with the broken one and looked suspiciously at the fourth man who moved towards him. He stood approximately the same height and weight as himself, with shining eyes making Darion start to back.

'This is Le Baildon,' said Le Tare. 'He will be our guide. No one knows the secret compartments of Mesania like he and he will find the speediest and safest way if we follow his counsel. More importantly, he will find our best methods of escape. If we are to be successful, Le Baildon is the critical element of our foray.' Le Tare saw the relieved look on Darion's face and smiled evilly. 'He also holds the record for the most Black guards killed in one night.'

Darion shuddered noticeably. It appeared all the men in the rebellion possessed expertise as killers and only he had never killed anything. He hoped this would not change by the end of the night.
The wall slid silently, opening into a dark tunnel stretching deep into the mountain, turning suddenly down and out of sight. The walls were a slimy green and the regular drip of water made the footings greasy and unsteady.

Le Tare stood at the opening with Le Baildon by his side, both men searching the corridor carefully before calling the others to join them. The tunnel was well lit and more importantly empty of people. The group had travelled through many circuitous routes for more than two hours so as to finally come to a spot as close as Le Baildon could judge to be near Le Bow's chambers in the Lesser Ships. Le Bow pushed his way to the front and spoke appreciatively to Le Baildon.

'You are as good as ever,' he told Le Baildon. 'The second torch on the far wall opens a small cavity to the rear of my rooms. Let us go.'

Le Tare grabbed Le Bow by the wrist to stop him careering into the corridor and sat him down roughly.

'When will you learn to be circumspect. We do not know what awaits us. We will tread carefully.'

Le Tare led the five into the corridor, sidling along the opposite wall stopping every few feet to listen to any sounds around them but they heard nothing. Le Bow was twitching impatiently at a particularly long stoppage Le Tare insisted on.

'What are we waiting for Le Tare, there is no-one here let me open the door.'

'Do you hear that?' asked Le Tare in an annoyed voice.

'All I hear is my own heartbeat,' said Le Bow.

'Precisely,' retorted Le Tare. 'There should be some noise, we are not far from the fairs and this is normally a regularly used thoroughfare. This silence is uncommon.'

No sooner had the words left his lips when three doors around them simultaneously opened and a squad of guards poured out surrounding the five rebels, who drew their swords in response. A taller figure dressed in black pushed through the throng and stood grinning at the men.

'Li Chi,' whispered Le Tare under his breath as he looked around for some way to escape the trap. Even with their skill they could not defeat numbers ten times their own with only five swords.

'Ah Le Tare,' said Li Chi. 'Well met. Let me see, the last time I saw you I do believe

we were putting your wife and son to the sword in the temple. Does that sound correct? Yes I am sure it is. I remember now, you howled like a woman and cried like an infant for what felt like an eternity. Quite undignified really, I hope you have learned some decorum since.'

Darion looked at Le Tare's face which became hard and cruel. He gave no sign of intimidation or fear just an overwhelming hatred of the man in front of him. As long as he lived he knew he would always remember the look in that face. Crazed anger only held together by a gossamer thread of control.

Le Tare glared at Li Chi and returned the caustic smile.

'It may be that today I will satiate my grief and although I may die in the attempt you will not leave here alive. You need more than fifty swords to stop me from tearing your heart out with my bare hands.'

Le Tare began moving towards Li Chi ignoring the guards levelling their swords at his chest.

'Far be it for me to give you some advice Le Tare, but perhaps you should reconsider because in fact I do have more than fifty swords to deal with your rabble.'

Li Chi stepped to one side and behind him the men could see a guard holding the limp form of Le Carra, a blade under her throat, causing a dimple as it pushed against the white skin on her neck. Le Bow let out a cry of anguish and started to rush to her but stopped when he saw the guard push the knife further against her neck.

Li Chi chuckled. 'Really Le Tare, you didn't think I would come here personally if I thought there was any danger to myself.'

From somewhere deep inside him Darion felt a heroic thrust. He never considered himself particularly brave and believed heroes were usually normal people placed in abnormal situations who reacted without thinking. He could see himself doing the same thing. He moved towards Li Chi laughing as he came.

'Hi Li, remember me, last time I saw you old Mara was whipping you like a dog for letting me go. Surely you do not think for one moment we would come here ourselves if we did not know we would be leaving and with Le Carra. You really are an imbecile.'

Li Chi stopped grinning and began looking suspiciously around him. He knew this Darion posed an extremely dangerous threat. He thought there must be more rebels lurking somewhere else around them.

'You don't look as confident as you did a moment ago what's wrong?' Darion kept walking and now stood within a few feet of Li Chi with Le Carra and the guard now only a few feet to his right. He continued to move past them and for some reason the other guards focused more on what he said than where he headed.

'How thinly the fabric of your courage is woven Li Chi.. You outnumber us ten to one and still you do not have big enough balls to attack. What do you carry around in between your legs because I am sure that if you are a man then it could only be a dried up grape.'

Darion's strategy was simple, as simple almost always works. He planned to feign ignoring Le Carra until the last second and as Li Chi and the others focused on him he would aim an elbow straight at the temple of the guard holding her. He felt confident, even though he had never hit anyone before, that a true blow would at the very least stun the guard and at best knock him down completely. He kept up the insulting babble aimed at Li Chi and curiously most of the guards seemed to think it quite amusing with some even lowering their weapons.

'Where I come from we call men like you 'purse carriers' because you act more like a woman than a man. You may even prefer men for all I know, at least that is the rumour.'

Li Chi looked at him with wide eyes. No-one had ever showed him such disrespect. One guard laughed out loud and then Darion struck. He relied on the skill of his companions, especially Le Tare, even though he had never seen them fight, because if his plan worked he would have Le Carra in his hands and would be defenceless. He hit the guard nearest him with an elbow to the temple and the guard dropped to the floor. He caught a shaking and tearful Le Carra in one hand and the guard's knife in the other as he rushed back to his friends who immediately leapt into action. Ten of the guards fell in the first few seconds as swords flashed through skin and limbs. Le Vulk slew three himself in a vast stroke of his enormous sword driving straight through the waists of the nearest guards with the barest of deceleration. Le Fidler bounded towards one guard and sidestepped instantly to take another unawares and swung back to kill the first with a stab of his hidden knife. Blood splashed in waves along the walls of the corridor and screams filled the caves. A head bounced past Darion who noticed Le Tare took his own advice on killing methods. The guards faltered when they saw the ferocity of the attack especially when their fifty very quickly had been reduced to forty and less and less by the second. Li Chi screamed in anger and in two steps was disappearing down a corridor. The guards began backing away as Le Baildon waved the rebels back down the corridor to a smallish opening at the base of a wall. They ducked their heads through the gap as Le Tare continued to swing his blade violently at the remaining guards as he moved towards where Li Chi disappeared. This time it was Le Bow's turn to grab Le Tare by the wrist.

'Come friend, there will be other times when we can exact retribution on the fiend but now we must escape before the guards gain reinforcements and courage.'

Le Tare shook the grip free and begrudgingly bent into the hole disappearing into the darkness, followed by Le Bow, the door to the portal slamming behind him.

Darion entered the hole first and Le Carra, he happily noted, clung to him hard, the sobbing having stopped and a type of shock setting in. Not on her but on him. Darion found himself shaking uncontrollably and he felt like his whole head would explode from the throbbing of a searing heat. Le Carra helped him to the ground and Le Baildon brought over a light.

In all the sword play Darion had been struck hard to the back of the head and a steady stream of blood pulsed from a deep wound. At the time he noticed it but the effects of the adrenaline meant he thought the wound was only superficial. He began to feel himself losing consciousness and convinced himself after all the things he had been through, he now would die in some dark tunnel a million miles from home. The last thing he saw was Le Carra as she bent down to caress his face and for that he felt grateful.

Either a few days or a few hours later Darion woke and wish he hadn't. The pain he felt before he collapsed was nothing compared to the headache he now had. His whole head was covered in a foul smelling poultice making him gag. He looked around and saw he had returned to the rebel's enclave and now lay in a large room, the hard bed under him confirming the exiled lifestyle he now lived in had no room for comforts, even for the war wounded.

His eyes wandered until they met Le Carra's who sat patiently next to his bed, a concerned look in her blue eyes.

'It seems every time I see you, you are coming out of a sleep. Your people have a very indolent lifestyle.' Although teasing him, her tone revealed her deep worry as she searched Darion's face for signs of pain.

The aching Darion felt from his wound suddenly paled compared to the misery he felt in not being able to speak his mind to this beautiful woman. He never was very skilled at social conversation and now he could see himself stumbling and bumbling in front of a woman who took his breath away each time he looked at her. A revelation struck him and he knew there lay a wealth of conversation written by others she would not be familiar with and may make him look more sophisticated than he could ever dream.

'It is your beauty that haunts me in my sleep Le Carra,' said Darion, Henry VI if he remembered his Shakespeare correctly.

Le Carra's eyes shone and a red blush coloured her already crimson cheeks but she quickly regained her composure.

'Pretty words indeed, your people must write poetry in their idleness.'

'Beautiful words are inspired by beauty,' he said quite proud this line was his own creation.

Again Le Carra blushed a bright red and now she was not so quick to tease him in return. She looked at him with a serious face and bent over, kissing him gently on the lips.

'Thank You.' She took another moment to look with confusion at Darion then turning left the room leaving him for the second time breathless but curiously the pain in his head disappeared.
Le Tare sipped a steaming brew of water and Verbena leaves and sat back in the only chair in the enclave possessing a cushion, grinning at Le Bow who sat opposite him on a timber stool with no back or arms. He watched Le Bow try to get comfortable and eventually give up and sit on the hard floor.

'Darion seems to be recovering well,' said Le Bow in between shifting his backside from cheek to cheek.

'I would recover speedily also if Le Carra nursed me,' said Le Tare who sent his hatred of Li Chi to the back of his mind temporarily. He knew how consuming hate could be and if he were to lead this crew of revolutionaries then he must do so emotionlessly to save lives.

Le Bow chuckled without humour. 'I think we may have a problem there. Now don't get me wrong, if my sister were to fall in love with anyone then I would bless a union between the Rok and her. It is the cultural divide that may be difficult to bridge. Their differences may be too great to overcome.'

Le Tare began roaring with laughter, slapping his beefy hand on Le Bow's back. 'Are you sure it is not your sister but you who is in love. By all the gods Le Bow if your sister and Darion fall in love then their differences will be what bonds them together, that is the way of the world. Anyway our opinions are meaningless as what will be will be regardless of you and I. But they do make a handsome couple. You may have a brother before too long.'

'I already have him as a brother and you misjudge me. I crave their union for I am not blind to the effect my sister has on men. Suitors court her almost daily and many will not take no for an answer. I have even seen the higher orders crave an audience with her. She is a gem, a beauty seen only once in a lifeline and so she should have a man equal to her and in Darion there is such a man, and one who would treat her as a queen among women.' Le Bow pondered his next words.

'My comments are selfish only, as I can see her leave me and go where Darion would go. It pains me not to be able to visit her at my leisure.'

'Then you are a wise man Le Bow, because you have the ability to look deep into yourself and realise your own failings before others point them out to you. That is a measure of enlightenment. Do not fear, as I know your sister loves you as much as you love her and she will be with you in spirit no matter where she ultimately travels.'

Le Bow felt comfort in Le Tare's words. He spoke as a leader and Le Bow would follow him to the end, as would all the others in the enclave, and thousands of others who have yet to join the rebellion.

Le Tare took another long draught of the brew and smiled. 'Our first victory will cause our second battle Le Bow. Li Chi will not take the defeat well. He would already be mobilising his guards to chase us out of these caves. We must go on the attack and not wait to be caught like rats. As I see it, the only decision to be made is what will be our next target?'

Le Tare, while feigning he had little in the way of plans for the future, had in fact prepared a thorough battle schedule including multiple forays into the Upper Ships with the goal of creating several fronts forcing the Blacks to split their forces. Divided they will fall one by one, until there are none left and then they will present themselves before the entire population of Mesania and asked them what sort of life they preferred. One of equality and justice or one of continued bias and elitism that would eat away at the soul of the empire.

He looked up and saw Darion standing at the door leaning heavily on a cane. Le Bow jumped up and grabbed him by the elbow.

'Why are you out of bed?' he cried as he helped him to a chair with arms.

'I knew you would be drawing up a battle plan and I thought it would be interesting to have a look even though in this respect, if not all respects, you are the experts.'

'You are our Captain,' said Le Tare not at all jokingly. 'All moves would be ratified by you in any event. You are an example to us. We must not sit idle even if injured.'

'Strike while the iron is hot as we say at home,' said Darion. 'They will still be hurting from the hiding you gave them and may not be ready for another so quickly.'

Le Tare walked to a smallish sideboard covered by a sheet and uncovered a scale model of Mesania with a cross section view through the middle. He quickly gave Darion and Le Bow a brief of his ideas of multiple attack points throughout the mesa and splitting the Black forces. Darion looked at the model and the many arrows Le Tare had drawn to indicate where those attacks would be.

Although having no military knowledge, Darion could see some large problems of communication and supply to an army strewn across many miles of caves and tunnels. They also could not afford to have any messages they did send intercepted, as any breach in security could mean many deaths. Keeping account of everyone would be difficult and the entire campaign could degenerate into a guerilla war taking years to resolve. He told Le Tare and they both stared at the model pondering what to do instead.

'I have a thought" said Darion, 'and it opposes the multiple small victories we have spoken about.' He sat back down feeling suddenly weak and continued. 'It is dangerous in the extreme and may not work at all, but we do not want a protracted, lengthy campaign. I have seen these types of wars in my own lands and all they really succeed in doing is dispossessing the poor and creating misery for everyone except the sword manufacturers. We need a decisive and quick strike to end the war with as little loss of life as possible. Have you ever tried to kill a snake?' He asked.

The two men shook there heads, 'You run from a snake Darion not kill it they are quite deadly you know,' said Le Bow.

'Indeed they are,' continued Darion. 'The best way to kill a snake however is to cut off its head and then the rest has no ability to survive. I think we need to cut off the Blacks head. Rid yourselves of Mara and the rest will be like a rudderless ship drifting out of control.'

The two Mesanians looked at each other in wonder. 'You are right Le Bow, his words inspire. 'A rudderless ship' these must be written down lest we forget them.' Le Tare paced the room. 'Darion speaks true. Mara controls all of the Black's thoughts. If she were dead the rest would be impotent.'

'I hope we don't have to kill her but you are right,' said Darion. 'Instead of hundreds dead we have only one. We could still use all the smaller attacks as decoys to the real thing.' Darion smiled, 'and always remember in war appear weak when you are strong and strong when you are weak. In this instance will will enure we appear as weak as possible to mask our real numbers. Send all your people out in short forays, just long enough to draw away some of her power and then we move in. We could capture her and then you can do as you will although I would recommend expulsion over summary execution.'

'You are fairer than many will wish to be I think, although it is also a measure of a man to be just and merciful. If she agrees and does not resist then we grant her some quarter.' 'Good. The next problem is one of communication. It seems the enemy has no problem in this regard if you believe them to have some mental links with Mara but what of us?'

'We are no novices in this Darion. These walls are peppered with vents and airways we often use. A voice in the right vent will travel many miles inside the cavities.'

'And what if the wrong ears hear these words?' asked Darion sceptically.

'We hope this will not happen. The vents are a natural phenomena but are also no secret. They have been used for centuries. We could always construct some type of code known only to the leaders,; finished Le Tare.

'My thoughts exactly, and it just so happens I have the perfect one.'

Darion gave the men details of the code he and Isaac broke years earlier and his audience marvelled at his genius. He knew it would not hurt his reputation any if he showed some tactical abilities and he virtually gave up the theory he would try and remain in the background. Le Tare slapped him on the back and proclaimed out loud.

'Again the Rok comes to our aid. Surely victory is ours.'

Darion's face brightened and he admitted to himself quite enjoyed his new found notoriety. He just hoped no one would discover him to be a fraud, especially Le Carra.

A hundred yards away Le Carra busied herself with a group of other women in the rebel's bakeries kneading some dough and whistling to herself. The other women smiled while they watched her.

A middle aged woman with a large belly and bigger apron attached looked slyly at Le Carra while speaking to the rest.

'So Le Elrig, do you think little Le Carra is in love with the fabulous Rok Darion. It seems he gives her certain favours. I wonder if she has returned them?' All the women giggled and Le Carra faced them hand on hip with an annoyed look.

'I am not sure?' said Le Elrig. 'She certainly has a rosy glow in those cheeks. Of course it is quite warm in here.'

'We hardly know each other,' said Le Carra through pout lips. 'He was gallant enough to lend me some assistance recently and I duly thanked him.'

'I am sure you did,' laughed the big woman Le Vable. 'What we want to know is where, when and how he performed.'

The women thought this enormously funny and the kitchen filled with their raucous laughter while Le Carra's annoyance increased.

'Well at least I know he cared enough to help, I wager he would not lift a finger for all the old wives in this room.'

'Touchy, touchy Le Carra, we only tease you. He is very handsome and quite brave from the reports we have heard. You could do worse and from memory you have in the past.'

Le Carra leapt into full fighting mode.

'No worse than the slovenly fool you wed Le Vable. I am sure he would kiss you more often except his mouth is either full of food or a foot.'

The women could take no more and every one of them downed tools and sat on chairs or rolled on the ground, flour and salt flying in the air as their legs flailed across the floor laughing themselves to exhaustion.

Le Carra and Le Vable stood staring in friendly malice until Le Vable broke tension.

'Come Le Carra, I am serious now, we want to know all about this man because you are right we are all terribly jealous.' Her smile disarmed Le Carra and all animosity passed as the women began a lengthy and serious debate of the merits of men in general and Darion in particular with Le Carra leaving no one in any doubt as to her motives.

'We will be wed within the two months,' she stated confidently. 'It is just he does not know it yet.' Again they all laughed and hugged Le Carra with genuine pleasure as if the ceremony had already passed and they all set to the task of preparing the banquet reception following the service.
It took another two weeks until the men of the rebellion finished their preparations. They all learned the code Darion had given them and he spent several days fleshing out the code to include more letters than the ones he and Isaac had unravelled. He held school room type lectures until all two thousand of the rebels became fluent on the code. The words the code produced could not be easily pronounced so Darion made one man spell the code and another decipher using crayon and paper. Eventually with practice, the men dispensed with the paper altogether. What disturbed Darion the most was the small size of the army. He thought the Mesa must be teeming with many tens of thousands of people and their group was so small. Le Tare assured him while his men constituted the formal fighting unit, many other sympathisers existed throughout the mesa right to the very heart of their civilisation.

The more Darion heard Le Tare speak the greater he understood the man. Le Tare spoke of the brave few who left their families to join him and fight for those who could not make the sacrifice. The ones who chose to protect their families and not join the rebellion, Le Tare spoke warmly, never disparagingly, rather believing it was these good men and women whom he represented and would one day release from servitude. He knew once the rebellion commenced it would gather momentum until even these homebodies would raise their brooms, axes or hammers and strike. He knew also if they did not take action, they would eventually be ground into the stones by the power of the blacks and Mara.

Le Tare in turn respected Darion's desire to offer Mara a choice on exile or death. For himself however he knew death would be the only solution. If left alive she would merely perpetuate her beliefs on some other lands and he could not allow that. He would kill her himself and in front of as many of her servants as he could manage and so end the Black reign.

Darion, became a quasi general of the army, responsible for communications and strategy. He would accompany Le Tare with the same troop who rescued Le Carraand they would lead the foray into Mara's chambers after they received reports of the small attacks or 'brush fires,' as he chose to call them, commencing.

The organisational abilities of the Mesanian people impressed him. What appeared on the surface to be a rabble of rebels masked a succinct and ordered army. They collected themselves in small groups and these worked together in all their training and each member of the troop was responsible for the whereabouts and actions of the others. By doing so there was not one second of any day each member of the rebel army could not be accounted for.

They chose a night a week later when both moons were new, and the great tunnels and shafts gave as little light as possible leaving only torch light. On Darion's instructions, each group planned to extinguish as many torches as possible around their places of egress, thereby camouflaging their escape routes in case they fell under heavy assault and needed to retreat. The men had specific orders not to engage the enemy in any type of protracted campaign whatsoever and if the numbers they meet are too great they are to retreat immediately and move to their list of secondary targets. They needed to create maximum confusion and draw as much power away from the Upper Ships as possible leaving Mara almost defenceless.

The men sat restlessly, polishing their swords and tightening their belts waiting for the orders to be given. Darion looked at the grim faces and saw all the ghosts of soldiers past in all worlds, waiting for what may be their imminent death but still prepared to surge into the unknown. They were the bravest faces he could ever imagine seeing. He wondered what his own looked like. Certainly not so committed and definitely scared.

A whistle piped from deep inside their cave and all the men leapt to attention and began dispersing without a word spoken. To a man they shed their silver mail ring jerkins replacing them with leather shirts and grey leggings. They blended well into the Mesanian scenery and even in reasonable light and they would be almost invisible in the corridors of the mesa. The guerilla war they intended to engage in did not require defence of a position for very long. They should create mayhem. Kill the enemy if left without options but preferably create as great a disturbance as they could in their allotted time and make a stealthy escape to recreate the scene in other locations. Doubtless some would die. Darion and Le Tare spoke quietly desperate to ensure they would lose as small a number of men as possible. Within minutes reports began flowing back through the catacombs of early success in the initial forays. The main portion of the army could now be deployed.

With a deep breath Darion took up his position in the middle of the troop, the enormously broad back of Le Vulk in front of him giving him great comfort and the sprite figure of Le Fidler in arrears a better wing man he could not imagine. At least he would be among the cream of the fighting force and hopefully this would be enough to keep him alive.

They rounded a final bend before they reached the outer doors when the wraith like figure of Le Carra glided towards them. She stopped briefly in front of her brother and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek and whispered some soft words in his ear. He kissed her in return and hugged her slender shoulders and moved off. As Darion reached her he could see her glistening eyes piercing his heart once again. She slipped her hand in his and placed a leaf into his palm and brushed her lips against his, the fragrant waft of incense and womanhood weakening his knees.

'Come back to me safely,' she said. 'The leaf of the Verbana will remind you of a warm home if you are alone and afraid.' She smiled sadly, the concern for the two men in her life etched on her perfect face, a tear drifting down her cheek.

'I'll be all right,' said Darion clumsily. 'And I will make sure your brother doesn't do anything stupid.' He knew right now he belonged in one of those poignant moments in his life where the wrong action could ruin everything but rather than think too much he relied on his heart and reached for Le Carra's hand and gently kissed her palm.

'And this is to remind you that there is no power on this planet that could keep me from returning to you. How could I resist your beauty.'

Le Carra's eyes sparkled and she dropped her eyes and turned disappearing into the antechamber towards her rooms. Darion impressed himself. For the first time in his life he thought he did not made a complete fool of himself in front of a beautiful woman it was a shame he would probably be killed in a few minutes.

The doors opened and Darion and his platoon exited one hole and headed straight towards the far wall which at first seemed solid but as they approached Le Baildon moved them into an invisible entrance. This path narrowed and the roof reached only a few feet above their heads. Darion could see this alley was a natural formation as no giant could fit in such a small space. Le Baildon held a lamp at the ready and would light it once the outer door closed. For a few moments the six stood in completed darkness. Darion felt an overwhelming sense of claustrophobia. The knowledge above him rested millions of tons of rock that could pulverise him into extinction made him literally quake in his boots. Le Baildon's lamp leapt to life and the shadows disappeared along with Darion's fears and the men moved, careful not to smash their heads on the many rocks jutting from the walls and roof.

As unfamiliar as he knew himself to be inside the mesa, he thought Mara's chambers could only be a few miles away but they seemed to be travelling for hours, his back aching from the need to crouch through many of the smaller alcoves they moved through. Just when he was about to ask Le Baildon if he knew where he was going they came to a dead end. Le Baildon waited for everyone to catch up and motioned them all not to say a word.

'We are here,' he said in a hushed voice to Le Tare. 'Through this wall is the hall of Mara.' He pointed to two small holes in the opposite wall, the first issuing a cold breeze and the second sucking air like a vacuum cleaner. 'These are the communication vents leading to the Western Upper Ships where the raids have begun.'

Le Tare moved to the vent and placed his ear against it, and felt a slight wind blowing across the hole. No voices could be heard. He placed his mouth to the opening and spoke the coded phrase for the attack on Mara, 'Fuujfu bjfo bmjs dtz fwj xywtsl.' The sound travelling swiftly along the vent. A few minutes later a strange high pitched voice could be heard in reply coming from the other vent 'Fsi xywtsl bmjs dtz fwj bjfo' the prearranged reply code meaning all was going to plan. If there was no reply or 'xyfd' meaning 'Stay _'_ they were to wait for further intelligence as a the Blacks were yet to be sufficiently engaged elsewhere.' If the reply was 'ST' they would abort all actions and return as quickly as possible to the rebel camp and regroup. Right now, all across the mesa, Le Tare's men attacked the black robes.

Now their plan was in motion, it was up to them to ensure victory by swiftly arresting Mara. Darion knew as well as any speed would win the day. If Mara did possess acute psychic powers, then she will have some advance notice of them coming. How early she would detect them seemed impossible to determine. Their hope lay in her extending her mind's force elsewhere while she rallied her Black prelates ignoring the vicinity around her throne.

The hidden door swung silently open and the six men leapt through the gap, swords held high in attack. In a well ordered fashion they swept the room in pairs, Le Fidler having the onerous task of watching Darion's back. The room remained unchanged from his last visit. The majestic throne stretched into the roof and the hall was lined with statues and finery shining from the lamp light. Immediately they saw the empty throne, and they assumed Mara to be in war counsel with her senior staff, particularly Li Chi.

Darion looked at Le Tare and Le Baildon who circled to the left, fully navigating the entire room and returning to the entrance. The drive in Le Tare's eyes was obvious. He wanted Li Chi to be somewhere in the room. Darion worried Le Tare's personal vendetta may distract him from the real business of finding Mara however it seemed very likely where one found Mara, Li Chi would be nearby.

The men made their way to Mara's chambers and stood to the side of the door to the presbytery which stood slightly ajar. They could hear voices chattering from within, the owners difficult to discern, when abruptly Mara's screaming pitch rose above the rest.

'We are attacked,' she screamed as the door flew open and Le Tare pushed through the opening. Mara stood over a rectangular table surrounded by a dozen of her black robes, the tall figure of Li Chi obvious at the far end.

The Black robes drew long curved swords from under their capes and began sweeping vicious slashes against their assailants. The rebels parried and thrust with ease, their battle hardened training too much for the more cerebral Black robes whose physical fighting skills were rarely needed and as such in decline. As their end seemed inevitable a high pitched painful siren began sounding in each of the rebels heads, their swords dropping to the floor as their hands hold their ears in agony.

Mara reached to her full height, towering over the men, a malevolent grin of victory lining her pencil thin lips, her blank eyes even darker in their hollows. She expended almost no energy sending her psy wave into the rebels heads and relished their pain. She held up one hand stopping her prelates from running the rebels through with their swords as she watched in an evil rush of pleasure Le Tare drop to his knees. He pulled at his hair and pounded the sides of his head trying to beat the pain out of his temples.

'Do you fools really think I would be duped by your feeble attempts at duplicity. You are nothing to me and your plans well known before you came. And now none of you will leave alive.'

Li Chi placed his sword under Le Tare's chin lifting the stubble of a beard off his chest, a line of blood forming on the edge of his keen blade.

'You will never win,' he said to Le Tare. 'I will enjoy this even more than I did when I killed your wife. Such a waste but I suppose she did give me some pleasure in my bed before she died.'

Le Tare looked at Li Chi with forlorn hatred as he saw his failure, the pain in his head robbing his arms and legs of any power.

Darion sat in the background unnoticed, while all the fighting took place. He saw his friends drop to the ground and heard Mara's claims but he could not feel any of her psy power. He dropped to the ground and began writhing like the others slowly rolling himself closer to Mara. She saw him coming but in her pride ignored the feelings she received from his strange thought patterns. She recognised him immediately and accepted her power did not seem to travel as deeply into his lobes but she could see him contorting in pain and she was happy.

Darion rolled closer to Mara and with a final effort he jumped to his feet and placed his own sword at Mara's throat, the scream of surprise breaking the hold on the rebels. Le Tare recovered quicker than the others and as Li Chi prepared to drag his sword across Le Tare's throat, he felt for his sword on the ground next to him.

In a smooth motion Le tare gripped his sword and swiped Li Chi's away with a deft flick, burying a fist into Li Chi's mouth sending the Prelate sprawling across the floor. The rest of the rebels dispatched those black robes around them and within a few seconds only Mara and Li Chi were left alive, their backs pushed against the wall. Darion kept his sword pressed firmly against Mara's throat and Le Fidler held Li Chi around the neck. The other blacks lay in a dead pool around them.

Le Tare stared at Li Chi whose sweat began beading across his forehead as he looked to his mistress for help.

'Do not look at the witch for help Li Chi for there is none here. It would be inappropriate for me to kill you without a fair trial and I will not be accused of denying natural justice to all so let us begin. I charge you with the murder and suffering of hundreds of my people. How do you plead. Guilty. Good that saves us time. I sentence you to immediate death.'

Le Tare dragged his blade across Li Chi's neck and stood back to watch as the white wound slowly opened and a waterfall of blood drained down his neck and onto his chest as he sank to the floor. Li Chi hopelessly tried to clamp the wound shut but the blood was no gushing out in quick spurts as his heart raced for the final few times. Le Tare stared impassionately as Li Chi's life force seeped onto the stone floor, running away into the many cracks and crevices leaving only an empty body.

Mara looked in horror at the lifeless form of her general and pleaded with her dead eyes to Darion not to repeat Li Chi's fate with her.

'What must I do?' she asked in a shaking voice.

'You must die,' said Le Tare as he moved closer to her, placing his sword under her neck.

'Don't you think we should arrest her and take her to trial?' asked Darion who knew his words sounded small to these men who for years suffered under Mara's rule. What right did he have to interfere in their justice when she was the architect of so much pain.

'Darion your heart is good,' said Le Tare. 'You have to understand she would merely manipulate any court we convened. She would use her psychic skills to coerce and influence and undoubtedly she would be found not guilty and would retain some of her power. No, she will have the same justice she dispensed with such alacrity and grace to the other orders and it will be done now. I think perhaps you should scout the area and make sure there are no more Blacks in hiding. Now her will has been removed from them they may not have such a great desire to fight.'

Darion took Le Tare's hint and began to leave the area when Mara, in a last desperate effort for freedom, sent a psy blast straight towards Le Tare brushing harmlessly off him, a blue glow covering Mara as the energy dissipated.

'It is as I have guessed Mara, your power comes from fear and I have none left. You may have some power over others still but never again over me.' He spoke to Darion without looking at him. 'Good bye Darion.' Le Tare was to sparing him from seeing the ritual slaying about to administered. He found it curious they would not want the Rok of Fate to overseer. Then again, his role in these affairs may well have finished as far as the Mesanian people were concerned. He left as requested and headed for the staircase.

He found it extraordinary how quickly the entire inner workings of the Mesanian political structure collapsed once word spread of Mara's death. Black amulets by the hundreds were arrested and brought to the throne room. Yellow and white orders left their Ships and made their way to the summit of the Mesa some of whom had never felt the full sunlight on their faces. They stood in awe at the vista and many cried at the beauty denied to them for so long.

The Blacks showed little resistance and now Mara's psy power was gone, many seemed to be shaken out of a dream world with no memory of any events in their lives. It was as if their life commenced once Mara died and all before that moment there was nothing.

Everywhere Le Tare went, the Mesanians hailed him as a hero and immediately they ordained him as the interim leader of the entire race. Darion went searching for him and found him sitting alone on the top of a marble bench his legs crossed and what looked like some musical pipes in his sausage fingers.

'I didn't know you liked music,' said Darion.

'I have not played for many years Darion, it did not seem appropriate to be so frivolous when my people lived in servitude. But now I feel like everyone should erupt into song all day and night.'

He placed the pipes to his lips and Darion saw them clearer. They were the finest pipes ever saw. The six cylinders had different diameters and lengths, the smallest as fine as a syringe needle and the largest no bigger than a man's finger. They looked fragile but the sound coming from them was robust and sweet. Le Tare played for a few moments and all around stopped to listen. He looked at Darion as he saw the people streaming onto the top of the Mesa and a tear rolled down his cheek.

'They praise _me_ Rok Darion. It is false praise as those of us in the rebellion know better. In all things it was you who inspired us and it will not be forgotten. We will create a mural honouring you and the moment of our freedom.'

Darion shifted uncomfortably. 'Le Tare please don't take this the wrong way but I am only a visitor here and will not be here long. I did nothing other than give you some ideas. It was your battle and your victory. I don't want you to praise me in any way. The power and glory are all yours. I don't want any.'

Le Tare chuckled kindly 'And you further prove your value as a man with each breath.' He hugged Darion who felt as if his ribs were popping one by one. 'I am sorry Darion but the legend of the Rok spread almost as quickly as that of Mara's passing. You may claim to be an accidental hero but these people do not see you as such, indeed some believe you to be the Saviour incarnate.' Le Tare looked slyly at Darion 'and as far as being only a visitor, I am afraid there is one here who will insist you remain.' He pointed to the top of the granite stairwell, Le Carra emerging, a bevy of suitors trailing her and begging to be of assistance as she headed straight for Darion.

She reached him in seconds bowing her head slightly.

'Your servant Rok Darion,' she said.

'Stop that Le Carra,' he said self consciously.

'As you command my lord,' She teased.

'I am not your lord and don't call me that.' She fluttered her eyes and smiled brilliantly at him. 'Then what shall I call you?'

'How about just Darion,' he said.

'Or how about husband.'

Darion swallowed hard and next thing he knew he was kissing Le Carra deeply, losing himself in a dream world of emotion as thousands of people cheered around them. Le Tare and Le Vulk put their arms around each other and smiled broadly.

'Our friend has just resigned from the bachelor club,' said Le Vulk who seemed to have found a voice and a sense of humour since Mara's decline.

'He doesn't seem to be complaining,' said Le Tare. 'Should we separate them, I think they may faint from a lack of air.'

The two men laughed gaily as well wishes swamped them all lifting them high on their shoulders and singing in their freedom.
Death is a robe that fits all equally

Jharnell 13/27-29
Chapter 7

Hammer leant over the bow of his flagship, the ocean below a deep blue and still. He shifted his glance to the blue horizon. 'Hoist the yards. The Southerlies are upon us.'

The ocean around the fleet was calm, the noon sun bouncing brilliantly of the glass surface, water lapping lightly on the bows of the becalmed fleet. The men looked around them but could see no sign of the proclaimed cool winds.

Some of the crew began climbing nets attached to the three masts of the vessel and commenced spreading the rectangular sails held by a horizontal beam called the yard. They pulled on the halyard strapped to the middle of the yard and the sails raised effortlessly although empty of wind. The men looked ant-like among the canvass, shimming along the webs of rope matrixing the vessel. The Aeserians traditionally used the age old long ships however after much discussion Le Frag convinced Hammer to try a more raised ship with an overhanging forecastle and three huge masts cut from the greatest tress in Salnikovia. Although unlike anything they used previously, its speed was far superior to their oar driven ships. He told Hammer it is called a 'Galleon' and had a greater capacity to use the wind and less reliant on oars although they could be used when necessary. It was a clinker built vessel made of hundreds of overlapping planks held together by iron nails and pitch, the end result, a solid ship capable of holding a several hundred Aeserians. When fully rigged the ship had a main mast in the centre, a foremast ahead and a jigger mast behind and together they could propel the ship faster than any previous Aeserian ship.

Hammer claimed the design himself and he held an illustrious ceremony to launch the flag ship of the new Aeserian navy. He named the ship 'Verity, the Truth Seeker' to signal a return to the lands lost a millennium ago.

Without warning a gust of wind was felt puffing through the new mainsail half filling it and then disappearing as fast as it arrived leaving the fleet as still as before, the rectangles of sails again flaccid.

Le Frag chuckled to Hammer from behind his temporary home in the wheel house which Hammer denied access to all other than himself. Here the two could speak freely without detection.

'It is lucky the wind arrived when it did Hammer otherwise we might be stuck here forever.'

The sarcasm hardly left his mouth when a gale hit the fleet lurching it sideways as crests of white topped waves began crashing around bow. The boat bent into movement the curved ribs of its hull began creaking with the pressure and the three masts cut from Salnikovian oak bent and crazed with the force.

The men could be heard cheering loudly from all thirty ships. A deep depression had settled over the fleet for the last three days as they sat becalmed, waiting for the change of seasons and the fresh South winds they knew would drive them up the coast and eventually around the Straits of Sal. For three whole days not the slightest movement of wind came from any direction. Initially the Aeserians felt happy to have some respite from the way Hammer drove them to this point, but this quickly changed as the scenery and the conversation became stagnant.

Hammer raised the army and navy in three weeks after the exile of Arad and Minar. He nearly emptied the city of fighting men leaving only the barest minimum of people to keep the city running.

Their initial enthusiasm turned to dejection when the winds stopped and when they could no longer sail they quickly became bored. Hammer worried also, not so much with the becalming, rather the time it afforded everyone to think carefully about the task at hand. Lack of action meant homesickness and the questioning of their purpose in travelling across the island to avenge a thousand year old debt.

Now the journey had recommenced their sea going tasks kept them too busy to complain.

'You were saying,' said Hammer.

'I stand corrected,' said Le Frag as he fell heavily against the wall following a large wave breaching the port side of the ship. 'Your skills as a sailor are without peer.'

'I hope you are right.'

The land rushed past their starboard side and small dolphins could be seen leaping through the wake of the vessels jumping playfully into the air and diving under the ships, gliding down the waves and under the hull, racing each other and the ships.

The cools winds blew from the south, and thanks to Le Frag's intelligence, Hammer knew this was temporary and their journey was leading them to the Muspellsheim, or Hot Lands, covering the whole north of the island and into the northern Aegir Ocean. He was a pragmatist and not prone to superstition however from what Le Frag told him the seas in this part of the world boiled and the creatures living in the ocean could sink a vessel with one swipe of their tales or smash them in two with their jaws.

'Tell me more of the creatures that live in the northern seas Le Frag. Your fantasy tales entertain me.'

'They may do more than entertain if you encounter one. Legend has it they are mighty creatures that drive up from the ocean floor and swamp vessel with their tails.' Le Frag looked nervously over the side of the Verity, expecting the waters to part right then and there. Hammer however thought long about Le Frag's claims and then dismissed them outright.

'It may be only your tales that are frightening not their tails,' he said.

Hammer believed Le Frag reported on these creatures from the aspect of a five foot creature not someone of his stature. Le Frag's entire outlook would be diminutive compared to his own so any monster would be of no concern to him. If there were creatures then surely they would be mere pets to the Aeserians. Although not greatly travelled in the north he felt certain if there were any monsters, then he would have heard of it.

The winds blew steady and straight and the plump sails drove the ships through the waves, huge spouts of water flying off the bow as the Verity crashed through another crest and landed hard in a trough. All the Aeserians felt fresh and alive, their latent instinct for adventure reawakened after the last few days of ennui.

Hammer planned the entire voyage in great details however now he found himself three days behind schedule and he was conscious of the need to reach Mesania before the moons would give out too much light and herald their arrival. Although the men wanted to harbour the ships and spend some time on shore, Hammer pushed them with inspiring words of victory and glory and the destruction of the Invader and so constantly fed their hate.

'There is ample time for rest when the job is done. Even as we argue they continue to defile our ancient halls with their desecration. The bones of our fathers are waiting for our arrival so we can bury them with ceremony and dignity no doubt denied to them from the filth.'

The men listened with grim faces ignoring their wants and hurrying to their destiny. From time to time Hammer would order the sails dropped and take a small row boat and board the other ships speaking with passion to the respective crews. As a tactician he wanted everyone to have the same message and the same goals constantly reinforcing with each man their roles.

He took Le Frag's advise and divided the men into platoons of six forming battalions of one hundred and forty four, which equated to the approximate number each ship;s company. Three and a half thousands men stowed into twenty five galleons, would soon break onto the shores of Western Salnikov like a storm and none would resist. He welcomed the attacks of the snow bears and the Ratite. They would be a good test for the men and help battle harden them and the inevitable victory would fire the stove of their passion.

The gale freshened and now became a storm with waves crashing around them and the Verity swinging from stern to aft and bow to starboard with no rhythm, rather thrown like a leaf in the wind. The men tied themselves to the pommels on the side of the ship so they could continue to work without danger.

Rather than frighten them, the wind and soaking rain seemed to revitalise them and they screamed at the wind and drank the rain as if in defiance of the nature gods testing them.

Hammer also felt the exuberance of his men, laughing in the storm's face and swinging his sword in great arcs trying to slice the storm with it edge. Le Frag however crumbled in a corner trying to brace himself from every lurch of the ship. His terror obvious on his face. He tried to scream above the howl of the wind to Hammer who leant precariously over the edge of the Verity as he tied a loose rope back onto its stay.

'If any of us survive this it will be a miracle,' he said.

'Be brave little man. The gods are with us, see them in their play as they contend with each other, the god of rain trying to douse the god of the wind and we are graced to be able to observe. Behold the Corposant it bodes well.' Le Frag looked at the topmost mast and saw a halo of red like a ball of fire dancing and jumping from mast to mast. For Hammer it represented a sign of their strength but for Le Frag it was another thing to be frightened of. He did not bother answering Hammer. He needed all his strength to hold on, but it was obvious these giant men had little fear in their bodies which meant trouble for Mesania if they survived the trip. He managed to tie himself solidly to a railing and difficult as it was he drifted to sleep, the thoughts of Le Carra fresh in his mind as he craved to own her. His last thoughts were of a lightning cracking over Mesania.

Le Frag woke, startling from a dream of a giant serpent smashing the Verity and chomping on the sailors clear in his mind. Staggering to his feet he peeped out of the wheel house and saw the night had come and gone and a new day dawned bright and fresh, a steady and gentle wind pushing the fleet slowly north and westwards.

He immediately noticed the air felt a great deal hotter and heavier than previously and the horizon gave off a curious heat haze masking its distance. He also noticed the heavy numbers of birds who for the majority of the journey thus far had circled the vessels or sat on the masts, were now gone, the surrounding sky completely vacant of any life, the heat the only thing he could sense clearly.

'You are awake. We travel well without a navigator,' said Hammer scowling at Le Frag.

'Where are we?' asked Le Frag tripping as he moved towards Hammer, his sea legs not yet found.

'We have breached the northern realms and are sailing across the top of Salnikov. Look to the land Le Frag the fire mountains can be seen in the distance. They must be vast indeed if we see the flames so far away.'

Le Frag scanned the land ward horizon and sure enough he could see a line of mountains in the distance with plumes of smoke and heat spewing from their crests, filling sky with a pall of dark grey. He was seeing the Plateau of Volcanoes, an impassable and uninhabitable land.

'Then we are coming to the end of the trek Hammer for the mountains are not far from the western extremity of the island. Are you ready to make good on your threats, for it is easier to talk a good fight than conduct one,' said Le Frag disrespectfully, not caring what Hammer thought. His body had bumps and bruises all over it and he was deathly tired and believed nothing Hammer could do to him could be worse than how he felt right now. He was also confident Hammer needed him now more than ever. To assault the mesa, Hammer needed his ken.

'Do not get to close to me Le Frag for my sword will not discriminate between you and any other Invader once the battle is joined.'

The two eyed each other distrustfully when Hammer felt the wind abate and the vessels drift to a stop. Suddenly screams could be heard coming from his starboard side. He swung around just in time to see one of his ships thrown high into the air and slam down onto the ocean face men bouncing into the water and disappearing from sight. He did not have time to speak when the ship again leapt into the air, this time landing in a set of enormous jaws jutting out of the ocean. The head was as large as the ship it bit into, with enormous grey scales stretching down a long serpent neck which was all he could see above the water.

Within seconds both the vessel and the serpent disappeared under the water and all evidence of either's existence evaporating with the last of the ripples on the ocean. The sailors all looked in horror at the spot where the ship was last seen and then all ran to the side of their respective vessels searching the water for any sign of another attack.

'By all the gods what was that?' Hammer asked an equally shocked Le Frag.

'The stories are more than fable Hammer we must away from here at our greatest speed.'

A spout of water exploded into the air next to Hammer and a lizard like creature rose out of the water, its snake head towering over the Verity threatening to drop its weight onto the ship. Hammer looked to his fleet and saw three other similar creatures breaching the water around the nearest ships.

Le Frag looked in awe at Hammer who stood on the bow of the Verity one leg resting on a railing, his great sword raised in a challenge. This was a fearless warrior thought Le Frag as Hammer's booming voice called to his men.

'To arms people of Salnikovia, the battle is on.' He jumped to the deck and wrapping his arm around one of the ropes trickling off the main sail and swung out into the ocean dropping himself onto the back of the nearest serpent. The creature screamed in protest, thrashing its head trying to shake Hammer off its back. The Aeserian clinging onto the neck with his legs, raised his sword and drove it straight into the eye of the serpent, twisting the hilt and ripping it out again. The creature went insane with rage, bucking and shaking its great weight trying to dislodge the warrior.

The king of the Aeserians plunged his sword again and again into the neck of the serpent, each time causing blood to spew from the wounds. Minutes passed and Hammer kept pounding the beast with blow after blow until the monster dived under the water taking Hammer with him. The remainder of the ships crews did their best to ward off their attackers as well as keep a focus on the how Hammer fared and many cried in despair and anger as Hammer fell. Some of the braver Aeserians followed Hammer's lead and threw themselves fearlessly at the other serpents, some driving and slashing at them and others swallowed whole by the monsters. The Aeserians fiercely fought the beasts with a strength rarely seen in the northern realm. One by one the serpents disengaged their attack and began disappearing under the water, the sea returning to calm with those men thrown overboard swimming frantically to the nearest vessels, debris littering the water and blood floating like oil across the surface.

The sailors searched the water for a sign of their leader. The place where he disappeared was covered in bubbles and ripples and a slick of blood. Heartbeats raced and the men began to lose heart as it became less and less likely that Hammer would survive. Suddenly the water parted in a gurgle of froth and the severed head of the serpent popped and bounced on the surface its face contorted in defeat and pain.

A cheer leapt from all the Aeserians and hundreds more men threw themselves into the water to help search for their leader. The waters rippled again and all their eyes darted to the spot when Hammer's head appeared. He swam to the Verity scrambling up its side his broadsword in hand and a smile of victory. Another cheer erupted from all the ships as he mounted the forecastle and stood with his sword held high and the wind again returning and whipping through his wet hair. To all who saw him he looked as one of the gods of creation and men wept.

'Verily Hammer is the Restorer,' cried many as they crashed their swords on shields.

One hundred and twelve men perished at the hands of the Muspellshiem serpents and one whole ship destroyed. The men wanted to stop and keep searching or at least conduct a burial ritual at sea, but Hammer drove them forward through their grief. He felt some remorse but felt more the need to be well away from the area in case the monsters attacked again.

The ships covered another ten leagues and very quickly the exhalation of victory gave way to a feeling of morbidness and depression among the crew, as the men contemplated their losses. Hammer could feel the first casualties of the war being hard to suffer for the men and their fear of further losses now well outweighed the initial euphoria of defeating the serpents. Some already openly questioned the wisdom of further placing themselves in danger. Both Le Frag and Hammer heard the whispering and undercurrents of discontent.

Hammer knew he must drive his men harder thereby occupying their minds away from dissent. He climbed the highest of the three masts on the Verity and perched himself on the crows nest, calling all the ships around him to gather, each dropping their sails and rowing to position. It took nearly two hours for the thirty vessels to position themselves and eventually through the waves and currents and a considerably amount of oar power, the ships circled close enough for the men to hear Hammer.

'People of Salnikovia, already your will wanes. I can see it on some faces. What a mighty people we have become when a few fish will determine our destiny. Kolin of the great Trek is shamed, as am I.' Some of the men hung their heads while others still looked defiantly towards him perhaps bolder than normal while still at a distance.

'However I am just. For the cravens I offer you portage back to Salnikovia to await our return. You may take any ship or more than one if there are many of you and leave immediately. I ask only that upon your return you head to the bakeries and commence cooking and cleaning with the old men so the heroes of the realm will have comfortable rooms when they return. Leave your swords with the soldiers as you will not need them whence you go and there are men here who can use them.'

He was appealing to the oldest of all failings in men, ego and the fear of humiliation amongst your peers. Many indeed wished to leave however they cannot stomach the embarrassment they will suffer as cowards among a race of warriors. Hammer gave them no option but to continue and the looks on their faces showed resignation. They could not even talk among themselves lest they reveal themselves as cowards. Their only choice was to keep going and try to find some honour in battle whether they liked it or not.

'Go, I implore you. You will only be a load the other's need to bear if you merely tag along like baggage, your worthlessness will be shameful to the rest.'

Most of the recalcitrants shuffled uncomfortably looking under their eyebrows to each other for support. Hammer waited a few minutes for effect.

'There are none who will leave? This is good. Never let us speak such again.'

He slid down a heavily greased rope and came to rest next to the hidden Le Frag who smiled, genuinely impressed with Hammer's political skill.

'Very nice,' he said.

'Thank you. It is fortunate for me the patterns of behaviour are unchanged throughout the eons when it comes to my people. Death before shame. It is what separates us from the rest and why we will destroy the Invader. They all want to go home and will fight hard for the privilege.' He bundled Le Frag into a carry bag and disappeared into his captain's quarters, the only single room on the entire vessel. He rolled Le Frag onto a table laden with maps.

'Now is the time for detail Le Frag, I need to know all your secrets for we will have little time once battle begins. When will we expect resistance from these Ratites and Snow Bears and which entrance will we use to gain access to Mesania?'

Le Frag opened some small folded maps which Hammer eyed greedily, snatching them from Le Frag's hands. The writing was foreign to him and so small as to be next to useless. He growled at Le Frag.

'What is this language written on the parchment, I cannot read it at all?'

'It is the ancient language of my people used primarily in a ceremonial sense and not for common usage however it is in this fashion we record all our history. I can however translate to the base language if you do not have the skills to read it.'

Hammer scooped Le Frag in one swift motion and thrust his enormous face at him, a putrid sailor's breath making Le Frag gag. 'Do not mock me Invader. My patience is almost at an end with you, your value to me is fast becoming disproportionate to the annoyance you provide. Do you understand?'

Terrified, Le Frag merely nodded his assent, Hammer in this mood was not to be trifled with.

'If you put me down in one piece I will tell you all I know and you will see my value.' Hammer lowered Le Frag slowly never breaking his gaze the veins in his temple throbbing menacingly.

'You see Hammer, the Ratite already know you are coming. They travel far looking for prey and their mountain is the greatest in the lands. They scout as we do and report in kind and even as we speak their plans are being laid. Look you to the western sky, even Aeserian eyes should be able to see the foe.'

Hammer moved to the windows of his cabin and flung them open. Squinting he saw in the vast distance a number of black dots moving across the horizon not coming closer but certainly not flying farther away.

'They will not reveal themselves until we are much closer to their eyries on the Ice Mountain. They will count your numbers and will send the appropriate forces to intercept you. Our preparations are still sound Hammer, they will not expect the type of resistance we will give. You will do the world a great service if you eradicate these fell beasts of the air, they provide only misery.'

Hammer smiled. 'Perhaps we will tame a few for sport with the Invaders that are left. I would enjoy watching them slaughter some of your kind. Yes we will do just that if we are able and if not then we will destroy them utterly. The time of the Aeserian is nigh and woe to all who resist.'

A shudder travelled up Le Frag's spine. He could live with the treachery he was about to impose on his people. However if he was ultimately to become a leader, then he needed to ensure there were a people to lead.

'Don't you think my people would make worthy slaves. They could do all the menial jobs your people dislike and be at your beckoned call. Do you think it wise to eliminate them all?'

'Maybe not wise Le Frag but certainly satisfying, but you are right, they may have some use to us upon our return. I will ponder the problem after they are defeated.' Hammer kept his eyes firmly on the Ratite as he followed their movements. 'The birds travel in pairs Le Frag and are replaced by pairs. I thought you said the attack would be by singular beasts.'

'The attacks will be by lone creatures, be assured their wing spans will prevent any other option and they like to kill alone, it is their way.'

'Be sure you are right or it is your life.'

Le Frag risked boldness again. 'My part in this plan is not the problem. Your part is. If the men falter or are weak in the heart then the day will be lost and believe me no news will ever return to Salnikovia if the Ratite win the day. Our bones will be scattered to the winds from their feast.'

Hammer said nothing and pondered the horizon as the Aeserian navy followed the coast line across northern Salnikov.
And the sage of their race will impel

them and woe to those that resist.

Jharnell 15/123-24
Chapter 8

The wind streamed into their faces even though they sat against the leeward side of the rock wall. The air around them did not abide by the usual laws of nature and the wind blew westward while the rain blew east. Hundreds of feet below them waves lashed the coastline and shot spouts of water high into the air only to crash back into the ocean below. The yellow foam from the impacts covering the rocks in a gold curtain. At times the men grabbed each other to prevent a deadly fall, as pieces of the rocky shelf they sidled along, dropped to the ocean below.

Their clothes became soaked and heavy and Isaac screamed to Arad, his words thrust back into his face by the unrelenting hurricane. He pushed past a struggling Minar and reached the giant who bent to hear him.

'We can't just sit here, we have to get off this wall or we will never make it.'

Arad nodded and dragged Minar along with him and step by step they made some ground until the path widen appreciatively. Now they knew they would not fall, they stood upright and made lopping strides aiming for a large outcrop of rocks piled against the wall of the mountain side making a natural cave. The two bigger men crawled through the narrow gap while Isaac walked upright and once inside they dropped to the floor exhausted.

'I have never seen a storm like this,' said a panting Isaac 'It is brutal.'

Arad and Minar seemed to suffer the effects of the onslaught much more than Isaac as the winds found greater purchase on larger frames while Isaac gained protection from the worst of the storm by the sheer bulk of the other two. The big men lay prone on the rock floor of the cave unable to speak. Isaac went to the packs, pulling some dried fish from the satchel and a flask of water and handed a portion to each man. They needed a fire urgently and while Isaac could not see a lot of tinder around the cave floor, he gathered what dry stuff he could and made a tidy pile that would last them a couple of hours if they could only get it alight.

Minar recovered and saw Isaac's pile of fuel. He rolled over to his pack and pulled out a small tinder box with two flinty rocks and a tidy pile of wet cloth. He struck the stones and immediately a spark leapt into cloth and a yellow flame appeared. Minar carried it gingerly to the pile, placing the burning cloth into the centre, and a bright fire sprung to life. Huddling together they tried to steal all its warmth and eventually they felt well enough to speak

'The storm is indeed unnatural,' said Minar. 'And this makes me hopeful.'

'Hopeful?' said Isaac. 'What could be hopeful from a cyclone that almost killed us.'

'Not everything is as it seems Isaac. Some people build fences to keep others out and some camouflage their premises or others still build where it is most difficult to access and there are perhaps others who choose elemental protection to mask their abodes.'

'What he means Isaac,' added Arad, 'is if there is a Kolin alive then this would be a very good way for him to protect himself.'

'If he can create a storm out of nothing then why didn't he do that when the Invaders attacked Mesania?'

Both the men laughed simultaneously.

'You know very little about the workings of gods don't you?' said Minar.

'Well excuse me for being a cretin. You said Kolin was a man like yourselves not a god,' argued Isaac.

'I said no such thing,' said Minar. 'In fact I was at pains to explain Kolin was much more a man than any of us could ever be, but you miss the point. If he could live in exile for a thousand years then he must be a god.'

'But you don't know if he is alive or not so how do you know he is a god if he wasn't a god before.'

They laughed again really annoying Isaac.

'Because we deified him,' they said in unison.

'What is that supposed to mean?'

'We made him a god. I think you are right you are a cretin,' again they laughed and this time from their jokes not with incredulity.

'So you can create gods?'

'Of course not,' said Arad shaking his head. 'If Kolin could leads us on the Trek and bring back the Valkerie and live for a thousand years in exile and build a monstrous storm for his own protection, don't you think that is godlike?'

Isaac found himself getting a headache. 'I don't understand and please don't explain,' he quickly added as both the giants prepared to pounce. 'Let's just say he has godlike qualities, is that fair enough?'

The Aeserians smiled to each other 'That is as good a way of explaining it as any I have heard Isaac, there is hope for you yet.'

The men pulled blankets from their stores rapping them tightly around their shoulders and lay near the fire until they all fell asleep. The night passed as did the storm and the morning broke bright with a slight zephyr keeping the warming air cool. The three crept out of the cave climbing a few feet to a wider ledge and stared breathlessly east. They were perched on the sheer edge of a cliff cut away from the rest of the mountains and dropping a thousand feet before it met the now calm ocean. The watery horizon greeted them as far as they could see north and south stretching beautiful and blue, the new dawn glimmering off its surface like a lake rather than an ocean.

They climbed to the peak of the surrounding rocky ledge and reached the very top of the cliff. They looked to the west and as far as they could see the land was flat and desolate the vast sands of the Great Desert showing no signs of life, a haze of heat flaming off the ground. Isaac had never seen such emptiness. They could not see any trees or bushes, no mountains or hills, only a seemingly endless land completely infertile, the crystal sand a yellow blanket covering everything in sight. To his east the cliffs dropped to what Arad said was the Thirty Mile Beach. They could not see a path and the drop was perilously steep. Even if they could manage the cliff face they had nowhere to go once they reached the bottom as the beach was more rock than sand and according to Minar and only became sand and surf much farther ahead of them.

'Well I give up,' said Isaac. 'Where to from here? It appears the way to go is to follow the cliff and see where it takes us. Any ideas on what we can do for food?'

'Do not despair little Isaac,' said Minar now fully recovered from the previous night's storm. 'We have enough for a few days journey and this is all we need. Rumour of this land has come to us and while the surrounds do look treacherous the line of cliffs slowly abates until they again reach the shore and it is here we may find what we seek.'

Isaac did not feel confident as he looked dubiously at the cliffs ahead of him disappear into the distance with no sign of any 'abating'. Arad became unusually quiet and sunk into a kind of maudlin reverie and try as he might Isaac could get only monosyllabic responses from him.

'Leave him be Isaac,' said Minar. 'You do not understand the psyche of our people. I too feel what my friend feels and it is a synergy of emotions as we near some places we would call sacred. I feel Kolin all around us.'

'Can I ask why this Kolin would not leap out and rejoice he has some of his countrymen as guests. He seems a little eccentric if you ask me as well as a bit anti social.'

'Does he not have the right to be anything he chooses. If solitude is his want then he should have it and not be required to answer to the likes of us however I do not believe he wants the life of loneliness but he feels he must purge himself of his crime. We must speak with him and if that means enduring a thousand storms then we must. We head north.'

Minar's determination was acute. If anyone could find and recruit Kolin then Isaac knew Minar could. The three made some progress travelling under a clear blue sky and more even ground. They could not see or hear any wildlife and the desert to their left gave of a shimmering heat like a mini sun. It looked to Isaac as uninhabitable as anywhere he could imagine. Not even a tuft of grass broke the yellow sheet lying across the world. He thought it an interesting juxtaposition to see such stark country to one side and the teeming ocean to his right, cool to the sight and inviting even as the temperature began to climb.

'We approach Muspellsheim,' said Minar. 'It is said to be a wicked land full of volcanoes and burning lakes of fire. Kolin is rumoured to be somewhere to the seaward side of this desolation in the last habitable lands but this is all we know. We stand on the threshold of lands we have never been charted except from the sea. The lands here are brutal and nothing can live in the desert. We must travel across the remainder of these cliffs and find the beach.'

Minar's musings did little to alleviate the great depression settling over Arad and now Isaac, the further they travelled to the north. The desert seemed interminable to Isaac however just as Minar said, after a few days it began receding and small sprigs of green could be seen struggling against nature. The cliffs began a steeper slope and at times the steepness made them stumble however eventually the ocean and the former desert met a sandy beach where the men fished, ate and slept for a full day and night.

During camp, the men talked of their homelands, Isaac in particular weaving some magical tales of Arthur and Camelot, and Arabian Knights and Genies making the giants gasp with glee.

'Tell me again of these dragons Isaac, are their any left? I would very much like to see one although perhaps at a distance.' said Arad.

Isaac laughed. 'They are only fantasies Arad. I suspect if what Minar says is true we are going to see many more marvels than mere dragons.'

Minar listened to the two absently when he stood and moved to the shoreline. Far across the ocean a light mist began parting like a curtain and as if by magic clearly he could see an island in the distance sitting behind a tongue of land whipping out from the northern shoreline. Minar cried aloud making the other two jump to their feet and join him.

'Behold the Island of Kolin. I know in my heart here lives our leader. We must away to it immediately.'

Isaac guessed the island to be approximately five or six miles from shore and as the mist disappeared completely he could make out more detail. It looked no bigger than a few miles across and from this angle he could not determined its depth. A thick blanket of green grass and hills covered the side facing them, with a number of large trees lined along a coast hemmed by rocks.

Isaac looked at Minar and when he said immediately, he meant exactly that as he began walking into waist deep water looking as if he intended to swim all the way.

'Minar,' called Isaac. 'I think you have forgotten neither you nor Arad can swim so it might be a good idea to try to build some type of raft first don't you think?'

Minar looked sheepishly back at his friends the again toward the water, backing out of the light combers never taking the island out of his sight.

'But how do we build a raft, we have no tools. The island may as well be on the other side of the world,' said Arad despondently.

'You have some rope in your pack and now the desert has finished we should be able to find some wood further north,' said Isaac. 'The island can't be more than five miles away, so the raft doesn't have to weather storms or high seas. We can make one as best we can, wait for the best weather and an outgoing tide, and row across in a couple of hours. Our biggest problem is stopping Minar from drowning himself in the meantime.'

With a great deal of effort they convinced Minar to help them pack up and head further north in search of timber. They travelled further than they imagined and the march from the cliffs had already taken them to the northern reaches of the Thirty Mile Beach. Here the beach narrowed and small headlands of rock jutted from the sand. They rounded a high bluff opening into another much larger bay bordered with plentiful trees. They looked out into the ocean and saw the island now lay to their right and gathering some sizeable logs they found scattered along the waterfront, they began trimming branches with their knives all under the expert instruction of Isaac.

'Didn't you ever build rafts as children it was almost a prerequisite in my youth to sail down the local river in a home made raft?'

'I told you we prefer the land over water. It is only recently at Hammer's urgings we constructed our navy fleet. We usually turn our hands to more important tasks of education and achievement of our honorifics than trifling and frivolous pastimes,' said Minar defensively.

'Well my frivilousness may get you where you want to be so don't be too hard on my upbringing.' said Isaac equally defending himself.

'If you get us to the island alive, then I will never question you again little Isaac, but if you kill us I will never speak to you again.'

The three laughed, the tension gone as they concentrated on the task of roping the uneven and rough logs together. They fashioned paddles out of some slender trees and hewed what logs they found with knives, rocks and feet until they produced a semi seaworthy vessel.

The two Aeserians looked suspiciously at the result, all smiles gone from their faces, sizing up the raft and then the distance to the island which now seemed further away than they first guessed. The sun passed its zenith by the time they completed the raft and they needed to decide whether to launch immediately or wait another night. The wind blew offshore and the tide appeared to be waning and Isaac thought now might be opportune. The tides however confused him. The sand was littered with evidence of the tidal patterns not conforming to the conventions of his world and a thought struck him.

'Arad, how many high tides do you have per day?'

'Four of course, why.'

Isaac was working on the theory tides here would be similar to home, however here there were two moons and they were not equidistant apart, so the change in tides would be completely different to what he was accustomed.

'It is just that the moons are confusing me. I don't know when we should leave.'

'What difference do Argil and Arean the two moons make? They journey across the sky one faster than the other always racing, it is a game played for millennium uncounted but not interfering with the goings on down here.'

Isaac now knew the moons must be in quite different orbits one much shallower than the other which explains the difference in speed. He also realised the two giants knew nothing about the moons affecting the tidal patterns of their planet. It concerned him he could not even begin to guess how the tides where shaped. It would take him at least a full cycle of both moons for him to glean some pattern and he did not have this luxury. If one moon moved faster than the other, then at some point they would cross and one would expect king tides of the type back home and at quarter moon times perhaps a 'neap' tide or no tide at all or maybe very short tides at other times, or maybe one high tide and one not so high and two lower tides. Either way it was critical he chose correctly because once they left the shore they would be at the whim of the ocean and that would be very dangerous.

'I only ask because the moons create the tides.'

The Aeserians looked quizzically at each other and roared with laughter.

'You are a constant source of entertainment to us Isaac. Where do your people get such fables.'

Isaac learnt from experience not to bother explaining himself as his companions would merely deride his every comment so he left well enough alone and continued fastening the raft.

'If you trust my guesses I think we can probably leave immediately as if we wait another night the weather may not be as favourable as now.'

'The sooner the better,' said Minar still hypnotised by the island.

'Pack your gear and fasten it to the raft and it might be an idea to fasten yourselves to the raft also in case we get some choppy seas. I don't like the idea of having to give mouth to mouth resuscitation to either of you,' said Isaac.

The Aeserians again looked at each other. 'He wishes to place his mouth on ours Arad, I do not like the inference,' said Minar seriously. 'What is this you are saying?'

'Don't worry Minar, I assure you that I will never under any circumstances place my mouth on yours, agreed?'

'Absolutely,' said Minar nodding his head.

The three pushed the raft into the ocean and a strong tide began pulling at their legs.

'Paddle out to the left,' said Isaac who saw deeper calmer water indicating the beginnings of a tidal rip which would help drag them out past the breakers. The ocean looked calm and the wind only slightly blowing but from years of surfing Isaac knew how rapidly changes could occur in the ocean. A storm building out of sight could quickly burst upon them and when they are in the open waters could destroy their makeshift raft quickly.

Arad looked at the water washing over their logs.

'Are rafts supposed to perform so, it seems we will sink before we have begun.'

'It is all right Arad, the raft won't sink until it becomes water logged and that will be a long time yet,' replied Isaac calmly.

The tide pulled at the raft accelerating them quickly through the breakers.

'We are going in the wrong direction. The ocean is towing us away to the left,' said Minar in a more panicky tone.

'We are in a rip, that's all, it will take us out a hundred yards or so and then in the deeper water it will stop and we can start rowing. Enjoy the ride while you do not need to exert much energy because the paddle will be difficult.'

The Aeserians did not look sure however drew some confidence from Isaac's calm manner. After a few minutes the raft did as Isaac said and came to a stop. The men took up their rudimentary oars and paddled as best they could. Isaac instructed them to position themselves on opposite sides of the raft and to kneel on one knee and stroke in unison to make the best use of their strength. He could not help in the rowing, not being as powerful as the giants, and they made the necessary headway without him. He had enough difficulty steering the clumsy raft with the rudder and tiller he had fashioned from a hollow piece of drift wood.

The island seemed deceptively far away and what originally appeared to be only a few miles at best now appeared much farther away. Isaac began to worry they may be out in the ocean far longer than he wanted. The two Aeserians began to tire as they battled through some unexpected currents pulling them away from the island and soon their paddling only kept them on the same spot.

'I cannot keep this up forever,' said Arad the sweat pouring down his face and over his enormous arms. 'Would it not be better to head back to shore and try something else.' Isaac agreed and as the afternoon quickly waned he could also see some darker clouds gathering on the horizon.

Isaac thrust his tiller hard right and began to travel with the current rather than against. The giants relaxed as their efforts became easier but try as he may Isaac could not hold a steady course towards shore, the raft drifting further out to sea with every second. The island was originally ahead of them and now they floated past it quickly as they drifted into far deeper waters, the land now only a thin line on the horizon.

'This isn't normal,' said Isaac. 'There is something unnatural taking us out to sea.' Arad and Minar looked at each other knowingly and with concerned faces they began inspecting the raft that now became their only means of survival. The ropes seemed to be holding together well enough but the logs sat three quarters in the water.

The storm which looked to be gathering on the horizon now mysteriously closed around them blocking the sun and making the water black and ominous as larger waves and stronger winds began pounding them from all sides.

'Well it has been nice knowing you,' said Isaac attempting some levity and Arad actually laughed in a maddening fashion.

'You have been my bane since we first met Isaac,' he stuttered. 'Woe to us all for our chance encounter.'

The wind ripped through their clothes as the sky darkened further and the rise and fall of the ocean battered the raft. The first drops of rain splashed heavily onto the deck and in a rush they were pelted by stinging nettles of water flying horizontally across the ocean. VThey could hardly see each other and they clung together as the raft bounced from wave to wave crashing down troughs looking like walls of water and flung high into the air bouncing off peaks of the next giant wave surging from the ocean floor. It felt as if the ocean wished to purge itself of the unwanted intruders and would not abate until they sat at the bottom of the sea.

The pounding became relentless and time passed in a fog of pain and fright, each man praying to his own gods they somehow would be delivered. A mighty wave towered over them, lifting the raft high above the ocean giving the three a brief glimpse of land just below them when the wave dropped the raft heavily onto a bank of rocks smashing it to pieces and throwing the men onto the shell encrusted reef tearing skin from their arms and legs.

Waves crashed over them washing them over the rocks again, their strength completely gone as they resembled corks rushing onto the beach and returning to the water with the next wave. Just as Minar thought he would perish he felt something grab a handful of his hair pulling him from the water and dropping him on the ground, a mouthful of sand confirming he lay on a beach. Moments later an unconscious Arad landed on top of him crushing his ribs followed by the much lighter form of Isaac, several cuts on his head venting a stream of blood down the back of his neck.

Isaac crawled towards Arad and placed his ear to the big man's chest. Minar joined him and began slapping Arad's face pleading for him to waken.

'You have to help me Minar,' said Isaac. 'We can save him but you must do exactly as I say do you understand?'

Isaac began pounding on Minar's legs to get his attention and after a few moment's he seemed to notice Isaac for the first time. 'Yes I will help. Anything. Just save my friend.'

'You have to try and resuscitate him. My breath will be too small it must come from you. Quickly turn him on his side and clear his mouth.' Minar pulled some weed and sand from Arad's mouth.

'Now lay him on his back and tip his head slightly back. Quickly man we don't have time. Now hold his nose with one hand and place your mouth over his and blow a steady stream of air into his lungs in six steady breathes.'

'Do what?' said Minar. 'What is this foolishness we waste time?'

'You waste time. Just do as you are told or he is dead do you understand.'

Minar obeyed and blew into Arad's mouth.

'Now pause for a few seconds and repeat until I tell you to stop.' Minar continued and as he drew his own breath Isaac drew an imaginary line with his finger from Arad's chin to his breast and began jumping on Arad's chest trying to replicate the rhythm of the giant heart. For a few minutes nothing happened and then suddenly Arad vomited up a huge lung full of water straight into Minar's open mouth. Minar jumped back in revolt and spat viciously into the sand. At the same time Arad leapt up, throwing Isaac head first onto some exposed coffee rock giving him a second cut to match the first.

'By all the gods what has happened,' said Arad as he coughed more water and weed up. As the three tried to regain their senses the skies above them cleared and all trace of the storm vanished, leaving them wet and exhausted but for the time being safe. They could see the land line of Salnikov clearly a few miles west and knew somehow amongst the mayhem they had reached the island.

'Well we are here,' said Isaac. 'I didn't get anyone killed so I guess I have your eternal gratitude Minar, isn't that what you said?'

'Yes, yes I said it, but it was a close thing that is for certain and especially for Arad.' Arad also recovered and demanded a full explanation of what had happened to him which Isaac happily gave.

'And you know what?' continued Isaac when he finished the story. 'I really think Minar enjoyed kissing your lips.'

Minar's protest stayed in his mouth as some laughter from behind them made the three men turn around swiftly, the two Aeserians drawing their swords which impossibly remained in their scabbards while they were tossed about the ocean.

Isaac crouched behind Arad not certain whether he found a friend or foe. A giant even larger than his two companions reclined against a rock, his feet crossed, stroking a short cropped beard covering an intelligent and strong face smiling broadly as them. Thick boots covered his feet and the black leather shone as if they were new, the man's long pants also appearing to come straight from the tailor, not a soiled mark anywhere on the creature's attire.

'You amuse me Invader. Isaac I believe you are named. A simple name for a complex creature I would guess. But you must tell me how you learned the craft of 'life breath'. It is practiced in other parts of the world but you are the first I have seen perform it.'

Isaac stepped out from behind Arad who along with Minar seemed to be struck dumb as they stared incredulously at who they knew to be Kolin.

'It is common among my people to know this skill as we are often in the water either at work or play, but it is Minar who should be praised for saving Arad, I merely instructed.'

'Yes. Minar the Loyal. Your title is well earned.' To the surprise of both Minar and Arad, Kolin stood up and bowed deeply to Minar. 'You are from the stock of my people that is assured, as are you Arad the Generous. No others could track me down through such perils as I put you through unless you possessed Verve. Do not worry, you were never in real danger. I merely wanted to dissuade you from reaching me and I would not have let you die on the ocean. I hoped you would turn back to shore but unfortunately your vessel perished which forced me to rescue you.' Kolin stretched his broad arms above his head and dropped them into his lap

'It has been many long years since I have had any guests, which has always been my preference. Now you are here you best come with me and have some rest and nourishment and then no doubt it will be time for questions and more importantly for you maybe some answers. Come follow me'

Arad and Minar looked at each other, wonder in their eyes, as they watched and listened to a living legend. The greatest of their kind and still he walked the earth, flesh and blood and they alone found him. They trod a few paces behind the enormous figure of Kolin who led them up a well worn and tendered path through an avenue of pine trees as they wended their way across the island. As the companions looked around them they saw hundreds of creatures of all sorts. Venison and rabbit, some grazing horses and what looked to Isaac like a hybrid cow, half horse and half cow. Birds followed their every movement and circled Kolin twittering noisily as they flew around his head, darting back into the surrounding trees. Isaac noticed the air here felt neither cold nor hot. It simply felt at a perfect temperature. Similarly the wind brushing their cheeks was light, the slightest of zephyrs, neither noticeably brisk nor absent altogether. The whole island seemed to be programmed for complete comfort. The most homely place Isaac thought he had ever seen.

As they rounded a small bend of trees they saw in the distance of smallish, by Aeserian standards, house. A stream of smoke came from a chimney and lines of bright shrubs formed a cortege they walked through. The path looked to be made of naturally white shale and just as the atmosphere seemed perfect so too the house. It welcomed the visitors without words and hummed to them to enter and be at peace.

Kolin led them inside to a brightly lit room with four deep padded chairs one curiously the right size for Isaac. A table sat in the centre of the room, laden with breads and cheese, slices of meat and steaming broth, with a tankard of cold ale. For the first time Isaac noticed his clothes and hair had dried. The longer he ate and sat the more the entire journey through the storm seemed to be only an illusion.

Kolin looked knowingly at Isaac as if he read the smaller man's thoughts.

'It was real enough Isaac don't you worry, it could very well have killed you if I did not intercede. Eat and rest for there are some tasks I must do. I shall return shortly.' Kolin left the room and the three began talking at the same time.

'It is he. Do you believe it Arad. Our King of Kings alive. I told you it would be so. I knew it in my heart. We must tell him all that has happened with Hammer and the plans for war, I know he will help us.'

The three ate all the food in front of them and drank the ale and very quickly feeling refreshed and ready to believe the unbelievable. Kolin returned and sat himself down in the largest of the chairs and absently chewed on a strip of meat and sipped his ale.

'I know many of the things you think I should already know Minar, especially about the war brooding in the west. My friends here make it their business to wander the outside world and report its goings on for me,' said Kolin as he fed a morsel of food to a small finch who landed on his wide shoulders. 'It disturbs me people could die and surprisingly enough I lament the death of the Invader also. My time in exile has afforded me ample opportunity to reassess life in general and centuries ago I understood death in any form was not a thing we should chase and certainly not eulogised. Hammer has certainly gone too far. There may by Fylgia involved here. It may not be all of his doing.'

The three travellers sat forward listening to every syllable, awaiting Kolin to make some sort of proclamation they could rally to, but he so far resisted.

'I know you must have some questions and I ask you to be patient. First let me dispel some preconceptions I know you in particular have Minar. You think me a god of sorts and while this may be extremely gratifying it is not entirely accurate. There are real gods in the cosmos and I am sure they would be most upset if they thought I pretended to be what I am not. I am merely a man Minar but one who has been allowed to live in this idyllic surrounds. It is this island that has enchantment and not I. My Fylgia in consultation with the gods who protect our people bequeathed the island to me. Perhaps they felt for me once my beloved Rania had left the world and gave some place of my own to mourn and it is here that I am permitted to stay for as long as I choose and in doing so can live or die at a time of my choosing. If this is immortality then it is so but only within the confines of this island. I thought I would quickly become bored in such a place but as you can see it is wondrous and beautiful and it pains me to even think about leaving it. It is peace personified and I love it absolutely. So you come to ask me to leave and assist you in the converting and delivering of the Aeserian once again and in doing so make yet another sacrifice. It is a difficult poser to be sure.

I knew you were coming and have long thought about my response should you actually reach me. Before I give it, you must understand there are no secret incantations or spells or additional powers. Once I leave this place I am a man and only a man, with the ability to die by the sword in battle just as yourselves. We would journey across desolate and brutal lands with nothing to protect us other than our wits and if successful then what. Can mere men avert the course of battle and stop two races from annihilation. I ask you to think first.'

Minar responded first with words welling straight from his heart.

'You claim to be only a man Kolin but even after a thousand years has passed still we live by the codes you left us. You left these laws when you were a man and I do not think you are any less so now. You are worth a thousand warriors and a million Hammers and we will endure all the hardships necessary if it means the saving of even one of our people.'

'Richly spoken Minar,' said Kolin who stood to his full height, his head perilously close to the roof his hands on his hips and chest puffed in pride. 'Maybe I have lived too long closeted away in my sanctuary when there is work to be done. I still am not permitted by our laws to come near the city but our path lies westwards and from what I know of events, the fleet we chase is already sailing. You fire my belly Minar but I am still anxious and there is no value in trooping off into the distance with no plan. We would only walk into disaster. Eat well and rest for tomorrow we will search the maps of Salnikov stored in the library of this house. I often have wondered why they are here and now I see more design behind our meeting. We will find the safest and speediest path to Mesania for it is here I will have words with Hammer.' He walked to the fire place and stroked a glittering sword hanging above the fires, its keenness obvious even at a distance. Its pommel was wrapped tightly in brown leather and the finger dents along its length authenticated its practical use in the past. It was engraved with pictures of battle and a single red jewel sat on its end. Kolin picked the sword off the wall and swung it in the air around him, the swipe making its own breeze in the room.

'It has been a long time since we have been to work my old friend,' said Kolin to the sword. 'Behold Morpheous, the greatest sword ever made, a relic from Jontemheim and heirloom of my house taken two years in the forge, folded countless times and indestructible. For the first time we will use it as a beacon of peace and not war.'

Kolin extended his hand with the sword and the three companions placed their own on his, Isaac having to reach full stretch and each felt the intrinsic power the sword held, an entity in itself and it gave them all confidence. 'And together we will save the world. A mightier task has never been set.'

Outside, night fell as they spoke. The men ate some supper and Arad, Minar and Isaac threw themselves into beds Kolin provided and closed their eyes. The last thing they saw was Kolin's broad back as he gazed out of the window at the setting moons.
The sun crept over Isaac's eyes making them flutter involuntarily. He was half awake and dreams still wafted through his mind and he felt as if he did not have a care in the world. He wrapped himself in his blanket and rolled over intending to have a typical Sunday morning sleep in, enjoying the warmth. A persistent jab in the ribs woke him fully as the smiling face of Arad leant over him.

'Awake at last, we thought you had decided not to come with us. Get up master sloth there are plans to be made, a breakfast to be eaten and miles to cover.'

'Leave me alone,' said Isaac as he turned away from Arad hoping to squeeze another five minutes out of his sleep.

'Not today Isaac, don't tell me your enthusiasm is waning. I thought you looked forward to travelling across a thousand miles of desert and rock to get to a war?'

Isaac sat up on one elbow. 'I'll remember this Arad. One day you will be begging for a rest and I will annoy you . We have a saying where I come from. 'Don't get angry, get even.'

'Our little master seems upset Minar. He should be more tolerant as he knows not what we plan for him. At Kolin's request we have something we wish to give you I think you will like, but first you must dress and wash as it is not given on an empty stomach and dirty face.'

An intrigued Isaac did as requested, combing his hair with one hand and eating what he thought to be type of peach with the other and eventually joined his three companions on the lawn out the front of the house. The morning sun warmed his face and made him feel quite alive and happy and he thought he understood slightly the enchantment of the island. Although millions of miles from home, his best friend lost and death a likely outcome, he felt completely at ease.

Kolin saw him coming and led him to a chair on the lawn and motioned for him to sit, while he, Arad and Minar surrounded him.

'Isaac you have given great service to my people recently and have proven yourself to be a creature of honour,' said Kolin. 'You have given the greatest gift to our Arad by restoring his life.'

Isaac looked at Arad who smiled broadly.

'Forget the fact you are the one who placed him in this position for a moment, because as I explained to Arad, had you not done so then indeed I would not be joining your quest and I suspect tragedy would result. So, you have given service to us and to date have proven your worth. Many of our people have earned their names from doing much less than you already have.' He paused and reached for a wreath of gold leaves and placed it over Isaac's neck.

'If you are to travel with us and help us achieve our goals then you are of us. As such you must have a name and one befitting your stature as a man which exceeds your height. This has never been done before with a creature outside our race but this is a time for precedents and new beginnings.'

Kolin stood back, looking at Isaac with a serious face and the hint of a grin showing genuine affection.

'I therefore bestow upon you your Aeserian name, one rightly earned and to be proudly worn You are therefore named 'Isaac the Impeller' for your presence has mobilised us all to better things. There may be more eloquent names but rarely one so accurately bestowed.'

Isaac did not know what to say. He knew the depth of honour he had just been accorded and more importantly it signified they now shared a unique bond. A mix of races he was stunned to be a part of. He clumsily stood and gave his best attempt at a bow to all three of his friends and felt no self consciousness.

'I will try to live up to the expectations of this name. I have to admit however I feel for my friend Arad who has lost his.'

'You show true kinship to be considering Arad's plight while the attention should all be yours, but I have not forgotten Arad.'

Kolin turned to Arad who had a tear in his eye and placed a hand on his brown curls.

'Arad, your name was dutifully earned and taken from you by conspiracy. This to me is unacceptable. I cannot rectify this until myself and Hammer speak. There is nothing however to stop me from giving you another name in the interim and one that will serve you on the road. From now until the judgement is reversed I name thee 'Arad the Source of Peace', the first time such a name has been bestowed and its bearer is now duty bound to search for peace in the mayhem ahead.'

Arad raised his eyes and while Isaac always thought him to be proud and honourable, he now saw a man somehow more complete. He stood a little taller, smiled slightly brighter and as he lifted Isaac high in the air and squeezed him in a bear hug, he laughed more gaily than anyone he had ever heard.

Minar laughed as well and the four embraced for a long time.

'Come Minar the Loyal,' said Kolin 'and Arad the Source of Peace and Isaac the Impeller, wear your names with honour and let us away for our journey is long.'

The four gathered stores of dried fruits, meat, flasks of water and a sharp hunting knife given to each by Kolin all wrapped with a thick blankets they would use as bedrolls, and stored in leather backpacks slung easily over their shoulders. Once they reached the beach, they boarded a timber skiff with a single sail and small tiller and aimed for the western shore.

'I do not have a vessel large enough or fast enough for the journey by sea and I sense our path overland as the most expedient in any case,' said Kolin when they reached the shore an hour later. 'But the travelling will be difficult. We must head across the Echoes, a land of hills and valleys we must be extremely wary of. We can only travel there in daylight hours as the land is too treacherous to negotiate by night, even with the advantage of full moons. We could easily slide into a ravine and either die or be trapped, wandering aimlessly for days trying to extricate ourselves. It will however be far quicker than heading both North or South. Our path is westwards if I am not mistaken.'

He laid some ancient parchments on the sand and placed some rocks on each corner as the men all gathered around.

'We will skirt the Echoes' northern border and come to south of the Muspellsium where we can travel far quicker however there will be no water or food for the full journey. The only water we will find is made of salt and impossible to drink. This part of the trip is well over two hundred miles and we must make the journey in days. Should we succeed we then have to make a decision on whether to cross the Aramad Sea and the surrounding swamps or head south and come to the mighty Silver Streak through the Plains of Sal and so to Mesania from the south. There are many decisions to be made but we have time and can make most on the road.'

Minar looked at Kolin with wide eyes. 'You speak names of places from ancient history Kolin. Names of places we know of from tales of old and here we are intending to visit them. I am living in a time of wonder to be sure.'

Isaac was also wide eyed but for a different reason. 'Sorry to be a burden but it will be near impossible for me to keep up with your long legs. Every one of your strides is three of mine and I remember how quickly Arad can travel when he has a mind. I simply will never be able to do it,' said Isaac his voice cracking. His friends are embarking on the greatest odyssey of their cultural existence and he would only slow them down.

Kolin looked sympathetically at his new friend. 'Isaac, I have lived for just over a thousand years. Being somewhat older than you I also have become a stickler for detail. While you happily snored your tiny head off last night, I prepared for this contingency.'

Kolin placed two massive fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. A few seconds later a horse sized animal came bounding through the bushes, bouncing happily around Kolin's knees.

'Behold 'Snaps', he has been with me for many, many years Isaac. At times I did get a little lonely on my island and one day I heard this little fellow whimpering at my front door. He looked as if he had not eaten for weeks and he was soaked with rain. Do you know he swam from here to the island. If he could speak then I am sure he would have plentiful tales to tell. I fed and nurtured him back to health and we have been friends ever since. He lives on the mainland and will swim to the island for a visit if he chooses. We have a tacit understanding whenever I decided to leave, then so too will he, which is fortuitous because if he will bear you then our problems will be solved.'

Isaac looked warily at Snaps. The beast did not look exactly like a horse but moreso like a very large dog with flat hoofs evidently making him a good swimmer. He had a large square jaw, solid wide back and legs and stood horse height for Isaac. A thin coat of fine hair lined its back and glistened in the morning sun. He wore no bridle and Isaac would have to be a bare back rider if he intended to mount him at all. Isaac felt quite comfortable on horses from his days on his uncle's farms but he was not too sure about this creature.

'Why did you call him Snaps?' asked Isaac, but before Kolin could answer, Snaps slapped huge lips around Isaac's face nearly swallowing his entire head and pulled them quickly away with a loud 'snapping' noise leaving Isaac with slobbering wet jowls smelling so foul he felt like retching.

The three Aeserians howled with laughter as Isaac wiped his face, trying to rid himself of the stench.

'Does that answer your question Isaac. He gave you a kiss of sorts. He likes you and this is important if he is to bear you. I must admit I do not know whether he will permit anything on his back, but we must try as you are quite right we cannot bear you as luggage for the entire trip.'

Kolin whistled again and the frolicking Snaps nuzzled up against him rubbing his wet lips all over Kolin's strides.

Isaac approached warily and scratched Snaps under his ear and spoke kindly to him hoping to gain some confidence. He walked down his sides and stroked his rump and very gently threw his leg over and eased himself onto Snaps' back.

At first the animal did nothing its ears pricked back against its head, uncertain of Isaac's intentions. Isaac kept whispering encouraging words while patting the animal's head gently. After a few moments he looked to his friends and smiled.

'No problems,' he said. 'Lets go.' Isaac gently prodded the sides of Snaps with his heels, trying to move the animal into a walk when suddenly it took of at high speed, Isaac doing all he could to hang on, his body flung from side to side. He wrapped his arms around Snap's neck and screamed for him to stop. The more he screamed the more spooked Snaps became and the louder Arad and Minar laughed. Isaac hurtled past them yelling for help but the three giants sat on the sand laughing, the tears streaming down their faces as Snaps finally threw its passenger into a pile a seaweed on the high water mark.

It took a good ten minutes before everyone regained their composure each time they calmed the men would again erupt into fits, a chagrined Isaac merely looking at them all with an annoyed expression.

'Well you lot aren't going to be much help,' he said walking slowly over to the grazing Snaps and began the process all over again. He softly whispered to the animal and patted its hide and remounted and Snaps threw him off again. Each time he remounted the animal was a little more calm than the time before and soon Isaac sat comfortably on an accepting Snaps. He trotted the animal over to the group who.

'We'd better go,' said Isaac. 'You men have a long walk ahead.' He urged Snaps ahead with a small nudge to his ribs and the animal jogged briskly westward.

'Seems he may have bested us all,' said Minar to the others as they picked up their packs and trudged along the sand.

They made reasonable time, Isaac easily able to keep up with the others and often he would stray some way ahead checking the lie of the land for a safe path. Kolin regularly stopped to refer to the maps, moving their course slightly from time to time and between he and Isaac the troop covered the miles easily.

They left the sandy beaches behind and the topography of the land changed to one of slow hills and rocky outcrops soon giving way to a land of larger bare hills and crevices. No hill reached greater than a couple of hundred feet but the land seemed relentless and as soon as they reached the top of another hill they could see some way ahead another larger hill which would block the horizon. The further they travelled, the more the hills increased in number and height until each rise became a greater effort to scale. As they looked behind them they could see they now stood well above sea level and as they looked east their view extended many miles until it reached the ocean. West, the relentless hills and tors obscured the view. Not only did the hills become steeper but they also became perilous, covered in loose slippery rock making footfalls uncertain, especially for Snaps who up until now appeared to be enjoying the adventure. Isaac dismounted and lead the reluctant beast with a gentle hand across the neck.

They made quiet camps without a fire, primarily because they could not find any fuel in the rocky environment, and ate their meals of dried meat, talking little, preferring to rest and maintain their strength for the morrows climb.

The air around them warmed with each day and they now had no need for blankets. This far north a heavy pall of smoke covered the northern horizon.

They woke early, as the nights did not last long in this latitude and broke their fast as they prepared for another day of climbing much like the last seven.

'These mountains are interminable,' said Minar. 'They seem never to go down only up. At this pace we will run out of sky. What are they called again?'

'These are the Echoes,' said Kolin. 'You soon will discover why if I am not mistaken.' Kolin kept his comments cryptic which at the very least gave the others something to think about as they marched.

Isaac began to notice how dry the air around him became. He tired very quickly having to pull Snaps and climb himself and his lips began to crack and no amount of water was able to quench his thirst. He looked closely at the ground around him and could see distinctly a mist leaching out of the rocks. He only knew a small amount about geology but he knew from what Kolin said, this far north they advanced into volcanic country and he knew what he could see and now smell was sulphur coming up through vents in the ground. This explained his parched throat, but what he knew a more serious effect would be the breathing of the fumes. It would not take long and they would all be overcome by a nauseating sickness likely to make them ill or at worst kill them. He picked up a loose rock and turned it over in his hands. White sulphate salt clung to the rock like snow, which signalled the presence of some grade of sulphuric acid. If vapourised it would form a deadly mist.

He called the others to a standstill and told them of his concerns and as he expected anything resembling science was not easily accepted by his friends. He would have to convince them.

'If you doubt what I am saying then all you need to do is take a big whiff of that mist around your feet and see what happens.'

The men looked suspiciously at Isaac and then the sulphur and decided to give Isaac the benefit of the doubt.

'Very well little friend,' said Kolin. 'I am none to eager to die just at this moment but I concede I have not felt well since we entered these lands. If as you say these rocks are the cause then what are we to do as there are many more leagues in front of us.'

Isaac had been searching the surrounding lands for two days and while there appeared little in the way of vegetation he did manage to find what he sought.

'We have to make a filter to stop the worst of the gasses getting through to our lungs. Over there I think we have the answer.'

Isaac led them to a gnarled and broken tree that at one time was hit by lightning. It looked to have burned for a long time leaving a blackened trunk.

'We need to try and get into the centre of this tree,' said Isaac. Kolin took the sword off his back and smashed the pommel hard against the black stump expecting the sword to rebound. Instead it drove deep into the charred remains and right up to Kolin's wrist now wedged in the tree's belly. He withdrew it with a curse starring at Isaac.

'What have we achieved here other than a sore arm?' He said in an annoyed tone, but even as he reslung his sword the four were overcome by a gust of air making them reel.

'We don't have very long quickly do as I say.' Isaac told the Aeserians to clear as much charcoal from the tree as they could and he directed them to crush it until each had a small pile of broken black crumbs in front of them. The effort drained them further and parched their throats.

'Now I want you to wet the charcoal and wrap it in some cloth and place it over your mouths. The air will be cleansed as you breath through the charcoal and it may be good enough to get us off these hills before we perish.'

They all did as Isaac directed and he tied some rope around their parcels of charcoal so they could attach it to their heads leaving their arms free so that they could walk more effortlessly. He looked to Snaps to see what he could do for him, (he kept referring to Snaps as him but he really he had no idea if the beast were male or female. It felt like a he) but he seemed unaffected by the stench.

Almost immediately they could feel the difference, their breathing coming much easier and the putrid smell vanished only to be replaced by the smell of burnt wood.

'I think I preferred the other smell to this,' said a complaining Minar.

'Well feel free to take it off anytime you like Minar. We will send someone back to bury you properly after we reach Mesania,' said Isaac, annoyed he seemed to constantly save these people's lives and all he receives in return are grumblings.

Minar ceased to argue and they all travelled silently for the next few days as talking became difficult in their masks. Every few hours, Isaac would instruct them to untie their masks and either replace the charcoal or at the very least shake up the remains to extract as much value as they could. As soon as their mouths were free they immediately could taste the sulphur around them and they hurried their repair work, replacing the masks promptly.

Night time proved problematic as it would be an easy thing for the masks to come loose and with their heads so close to the ground where the mist would be more potent, it could be fatal. Isaac organised a roster system so one of them always stayed awake and constantly checked the other's breathing and ensured the masks remained on their faces.

On the tenth day since they entered The Echoes Isaac felt a change in the wind direction and while the topography was worsening rather than improving, he thought he could see a change in the rocks around him, the sulphuric salt not seen at all. Gingerly he took his mask off and took a few tentatively breaths and sure enough the air here smelt fresh and only a little distasteful.

The others joined him and they carefully packed their charcoal masks in their packs in case of emergency ahead.

'Thank the gods that is over,' said Minar. 'One more day with that thing on my head and I believe I would have welcomed the poison if only to change the taste in my mouth.'

They all appreciated the fresh air and their hearts lightened considerably as they travelled at a much better pace. The land undulated perilously and they still only travelled by day but the scenery was much more interesting.

Ever growing cliffs and mountains bordered their horizons and they found natural canyons hundreds of feet deep carved out of long dried rivers. They took care not to fall and at times went miles out of their way to avoid the more dangerous sections and although dangerous, the land was one of the wonders of the world.

Kolin strode to the edge of one vast canyon stretching at least a mile across and so deep its bottom could only be guessed. He placed his huge hands to his mouth and called in a loud voice.

'Beware all who listen for Kolin and his brigade come to rock the world.'

No sooner had the words dropped from his lips when they immediately came back to him amplified tenfold their noise reverberating the whole region. Their clothes and skin shook with the sound waves forcing Isaac to cover his ears and even Arad and Minar grimaced as the sound washed over them and up the valley around them.

In a softer voice they heard Kolin chanting to the air around him. 'Hear the Echoes let it herald our arrival into the lands of our Fathers.' The echo hummed around them more gently than before and the power of the words enriched their soul.

Isaac had never seen anything like the Echoes. The most aptly named of any of the places he had seen so far. Each footfall made a resound around them, sometimes softly and at others more pronounced as they wended in and out of the vagaries in the cliffs and canyons.

For some hours they followed a natural path leading down and as they travelled the noise around them increased so much even the most careful steps of Snaps shook the air. They eventually reached the bottom and colossal cliffs stretched all around them, their breathing bouncing off the walls until it became quite perilous to even try and communicate. With hand actions they passed into a small cave punched into the side of the mountain and here they found some relief.

'Do we know how long we will take to get out of these wicked mountains Kolin?' Said Arad as he rubbed his ears to dampen the ringing.

'I believe we are near the end and if luck will only hold herself as our ally for a few more days I believe we will be free. Take heart soldiers of peace for we will need it when we reach the plains. Our journey will be quicker but other perils await.'

They looked to each other concerned Kolin was not being completely open about what he knew of these lands. They had little choice other than trust their leader.

At the end of the second day from the cave they reached the highest peaks of the Echoes where they could spy further more low lying canyons and crests ahead. Each journey down one canyon and up the to the peak of the next gave them a greater view of the lands ahead. They were still some miles above sea level and a dirty mist covered all the lands below them but looking north they could clearly see lines of mountains below them spewing forth a steady stream of smoke with ash settling over all the land in that direction.

Their march and their mood became sombre even though the land around seemed to be flatten noticeably. As Kolin said, within another two days of rapid descent they reached flat land stretching unbroken to the horizon, its blanket of brown grass showing the lack of moisture they felt in the air.

When they finally reached the bottom of the last hill, the copper mist they saw from the peaks of the Echoes, now blocked their views as it swam around their legs. The further they looked into the distance the deeper it appeared but just like fog, they could still see reasonably well around their immediate region.

Kolin called a break and they crowded around his crumbling and ancient maps. The path they followed was not a road as such rather differing from the rest of the landscape by a varied tinge and flattening of brown in the grass. According to the map, some little way ahead, the road divided in two, one branch clearly leading north around a huge lake and the other path more difficult to see heading south.

'We have had a hard time of it and now we should be able to travel at a greater pace. These hot and desolate lands will recede if we elect to travel south however the northern path seems better travelled. We now need to make a decision and either way appears to have its advantages and its' perils.'

Minar spoke first as he stood defiantly with fat hands on his hips.

'The faster route must be taken even if perilous as it is no use for us to arrive after the battle has begun. We may as well return to our lands if that is the eventuality.'

'Agreed,' said Arad. 'Speed will win the day and is the essence of all we do from here.'

'And you Isaac, what is your vote in this.'

Isaac studied the maps for a final time. 'Both roads skirt this inland sea over here,' he said pointing to the map. 'If these are marshes on the western side of the sea then we would want to avoid them, especially with Snaps here as he would find the footing soft and difficult to negotiate. If we go south then we have more flat land to gather speed and only a river to cross before we approach Mesania. It looks the easier path.'

'Yes it looks easier,' agreed Kolin. 'However the path seldom trodden is so for a reason, although it does appear to be the faster. Kolin thought for a few minutes. 'I agree with Isaac. North is well worn however south seems faster. We travel south.'

Without further delay they turned south and the shadow they could see on the horizon became clearer, a dirty brown lake they could see neither around nor over. Without Kolin's maps they would have thought they had crossed the entire island and reached the western shore. They saw instead the Aramad Sea an expanse of water covering a large portion of central Salnikov.

At first the men travelled much easier along the flatter land however as they moved closer to the water, the fog lifted from around their feet and revealed a thick spiny brown grass. For some miles it brushed past their ankles and tickled Snaps fetlocks. The further south they travelled however, the thicker it became, with each edge of the grass sharp and irritating.

None of the troop wished to complain. They all felt if they could not suffer a few miles of grass, then they were a sorry group indeed. The grass grew longer the further they moved towards the sea and eventually it grew so tall it scratched at Isaac's legs, piercing his thick jeans.

'From the frying pan to the fire as my father says. This grass is tearing my legs apart,' said Isaac.

Although the Aeserians possessed thicker skin and clothing than Isaac, they too bled from many points on their legs and travel for them became just as uncomfortable.

Snaps refused to move altogether and the rest came to a stop.

'What should we do?' asked Arad. 'The grass is endless and it looks like it only gets higher the further we travel. Soon it will be above our heads. Surely we cannot go back we have invested too many days getting this far.'

They could not think of an answer so they made camp for the evening. They broke their blankets out of their packs and tried stamping the ground around them but the grass sprang back as soon as they lifted their feet. The blankets gave them scant protection and none of them could lie down without having the shard like grass puncture every part of them.

Despair began to settle over the group when Isaac had an idea.

'As far as you know there are no settlements or people anywhere near here, is that right?'

'That is correct,' said Kolin. 'Nothing could live in such an environment.' 'I have an idea. It could be very dangerous and we must be careful not to kill our selves in the process.'

'You are full of ideas aren't you little Isaac, and they all seem to involve our possible death,' said Minar. 'You also have yet to fail us so speak up. We simply cannot remain here.'

'I spent most of my childhood in the country and the first thing you learn is how to avoid having your home destroyed by forest fires in the summer months. We have to do a little back burning first,' he said. The Aeserians looked quizzically at him as he rolled his blanket into a cylinder. 'Do as I do and be very careful, we can't set the whole of this part of the world on fire.'

Isaac planned to start a controlled burn of the grass immediately around them, big enough to give them a safety buffer to stand in. They would light a small fire in a circle and would force it to burn in on itself thereby allowing them a clearing for the main fire they would then set. He explained to the others they must beat out the fire if it tried to escape the perimeter he had set at about twenty five yards. They would have to be quick as the slightest change of wind could blow the fire back at them and roasted Aeserian would be on the menu.

Isaac told them all to put on their charcoal masks and the four companions stationed themselves in a rough circle with Minar proceeding to light two fires on opposite sides of the circle. The wind dropped to a whisper which made the job easier as Minar lit the grass and it exploded into flame. It was extremely dry due to the Muspellsheim in the north and only a little rain seemed to ever touch the area. All four worked hard beating flames back while holding their line so eventually both ends of the fire joined and ran out of fuel. The whole process took close to an hour and when the last flame was extinguished they stood in a smouldering black circle twenty yards across.

'Well that wasn't so bad,' he said in a pleased voice to his companions. 'Now for he hard bit.'

Isaac knew they had a large enough safety zone to attempt a major fire directed towards lake in the distance. He reckoned they were only a couple of miles from the water at the very most and the fire could literally blaze them a path and would burn out once it reached the water's edge.

He directed Minar on what he thought would be the best location for the first burn and they watched in shock as the grass again leapt to fiery life and sped towards the west at much more than a running pace. Back home Isaac would consider a fire like this to be classed as completely out of control.

'Well done indeed,' said Kolin watching the fire eat the acres of grass ahead but Isaac was worried. The fire was fierce. Anything living between them and the lake would quite likely die and even with their buffer, if the wind changed they could still be in a lot of trouble. Their luck held and a slight breeze carried the fire forward and seemed to be heading in a steady course towards the sea. The dry grass caused very little smoke allowing them to store their masks once again. He guessed the smouldering ground would be able to be walked on by the next day. They could have started immediately, as they all wore heavy boots, but the bare fetlocks of Snaps would be too exposed for such a journey. They tried as best as they could to stamp out the ground around them and lay their packs down as a bedroll.

Night fell and all around them they could see smoking embers and on the horizon a line a bright red fire dancing in the evening breeze. Although doing untold amounts of damage to the land, Isaac thought the sight as spectacular as anything he had ever seen.

Arad lay a big hand on Isaac's shoulder. 'If we indeed do come to the water on the morrow I will say your debt to me is forgiven because without you our quest would certainly already be lost. Well done Isaac the Impeller for you lead on the journey you began as a follower.'

The four slept restlessly and before dawn broke their fast and prepared to attempt the travel on the hot ground. Arad tore a leather jerkin he had in his pack and tied it to Snaps' legs to protect them and they headed westward towards the lake.

The sun rose behind them and as it breached the Echoes they stopped and stared at the land around them. As far as they could see charred and smouldering embers covered the earth with not a sign of grass or life. It looked pure desolation nothing surviving their fire. Tacitly they continued, all feeling anxious they had done the right thing. The land looked so marred by their intervention it seemed it would never recover. Isaac tried to lighten their mood.

'Where I come from we often see fires of this nature and believe me in no time at all the grass will spring back bigger and better than ever. Fires rejuvenate the land.' Even Isaac did not believe his own words as the world looked like hell itself and it was difficult to see it ever recovering.

Now they could see clearly, the lake seemed much closer than before. They scanned the land and a few miles to the south they could see a slight rise in the land and a dark cluster of smoke thicker than the rest of the burnt land around them. They said nothing and felt suddenly uneasy.

They headed straight for the smoke hanging around the edge of the lake a few miles away.

'What do you think it is?' asked Isaac finally.

Kolin shielded the sides of his face with his great hands and tried to penetrate the smoke. 'I am not sure but it burns bright while the rest of the land only smoulders.'

Isaac nudged Snaps in the sides and jogged off. 'I'll have a closer look.'

Snaps sniffed the air and obeyed Isaac, trotting along the black earth careful to avoid any tufts of smouldering grass.

As he got closer, he began to feel sick in the stomach. The road which previously they found difficult to see, now became much more distinctive. As he looked around him there appeared an order to the lay of the rocks and land and now quite clearly he could see the road was bordered by flattened stones.

He stopped Snaps and rose high on his back to confirm for himself what he already knew. Less than a mile ahead of him were the burning remains of a town. He could see the single and double story structures all red with flame and even lower buildings already destroyed. He trotted carefully towards the entrance which may have once been guarded by two gates but now was only a smouldering pile lying on each side of the road.

The smokey remains of the building nearest to him looked like an old watchtower and would have taken the full force of the fire as it hit the town. Isaac suddenly realised the size of the structures and the width of the road would indicate the inhabitant's stature was of a similar size to himself. The road branched many times the further he moved into the town showing an ordered streetscape. Isaac tried to find signs of life among the embers. Thankfully he did not find any bodies. He moved straight through the town and ended on the lake's edge. He found moorings for boats and it seemed this may be the only possible way the owners could have left.

In total, Isaac thought there were at least one hundred buildings in the town, made mostly of rock and in all likelihood thatched with the very grass that eventually destroyed it. Now the houses were burnt to the ground leaving only the rocky floors and walls and not a living thing anywhere.

In a daze he left the town and went back to the others reporting all he saw and the four quickly returned to see if they could find any survivors and if injured they could assist. After an hour or so of searching they convinced themselves at least there were no fatalities.

'That is one thing to be thankful for I suppose,' said Arad. 'The fact we didn't kill anyone with our thoughtlessness.'

'Or maybe they took their dead with them,' said Kolin kicking forlornly at the rubble nearest him. 'We are careless fools.'

They all stood on the edge of the immense inland sea searching for signs of the evacuation.

'Where could they have gone?' asked Minar. 'Surely they would not sail to the other side. I would have thought they would have waited offshore until the fire went out and then returned to sift through the wreckage.'

Kolin peered to the watery horizon. 'No. They are nowhere near. There is only one place they could go but all would fear to take that path.'

'You know where they have gone?' asked Isaac.

'The only place they could,' said Kolin. 'This is the Aramad Sea, more commonly known as the 'Dead Sea' and now it earns its title even more so it seems. In the centre is an island they would likely have headed and they would be desperate indeed to seek refuge there.'

'It doesn't get much more desperate than to have their entire town destroyed,' said Isaac.'"What is wrong with the island?'

'The Dead Sea houses an island of the dead. Legends says no living creature has ever set foot on it and returned and even so it is the only place they could have gone. We must go to their aid.'

'But what of the quest?' asked Minar.

'What good are we as men, Minar the Loyal if we do not try to rectify the damage we have bestowed on these people,' said Kolin. 'Is not this our quest also. We cannot move on and leave misery behind pretending nothing happened. I know you all well and you could not live your lives with such guilt. Lets us admit our folly to these people, ask forgiveness and repair the damage as best we can. This is the way of our people.'

The others all knew Kolin was right, they must seek survivors. The problem seemed to be how to find the inhabitants. There were no boats and certainly nothing they could make even one of Isaac's flimsy crafts out of.

In frustration Minar picked up a rock at his feet and flung it as far as he could at the lake. To all their amazement the rock appeared to skip only the top of the lake and rested on top of the water sinking only very slowly.

'What in the names of the thousand gods happened,' exclaimed Minar. They all picked up rocks and repeated the exercise and each rock skimmed over the top of the water without sinking immediately.

Isaac bent down and scooped up a handful of water which had the viscosity of mud although much thicker. It looked like water but a thousand times more dense.

'I have heard of lakes so saturated with salt you can lie on your back and not sink. This is much thicker but I think we know where the people went. They simply walked. I think they intended to come back however one look at you Aeserians and they probably thought they were being invaded and they have retreated.'

Isaac took a tentative step into the lake and it easily took his weight. He stood for a few seconds and then his legs began sinking into the water. The water felt how Isaac imagined quicksand would feel but here he could easily pull his leg out. As long as he kept moving he remained on the surface.

'Try to put your weight on the water slowly and keep moving,' said Isaac.

The larger men did as he said and they too could easily walk on the lake. When they stopped they very quickly began sinking. They coaxed Snaps onto the lake, his thin hoofs and small surface area meaning he could not stop at all before sinking.

They all came back to shore and studied the horizon.

'Well, what now?' asked Isaac.

The four hesitated at the prospect of following the evacuation of the town until Kolin spoke up.

'If we thought the road dangerous before then we thought wrong, as this will undoubtedly be the most perilous miles of our journey. We need to head north west if we are to find the island and we have at least two days travel ahead. And what if the water's consistency alters half way, what then? But more so when we reach our goal what will greet us? Fable has it the dead live on the island of Aram for it is the haven of all those who die with dishonour, forever banished to wandering in the shared misery of others. No living creature has returned from this nightmare. And still we must go for we have reparations to make and forgiveness to be pleaded.'

Kolin took a short step onto the lake and marched briskly, the slapping of the tar like water splashing oily mead into the air.

'Well that answers that question I suppose. Shall we?' Isaac waved the others ahead as he coaxed a reluctant Snaps onto the water and the troop marched again this time unenthusiastically each hiding their own fears as well as they could.

In the late afternoon Kolin slowed his pace and allowed the others to catch up, all their breaths heavy as the effort of lifting their feet from the thick water became more difficult.

'We are perhaps a days journey from the island, how are you managing?' asked Kolin as he puffed along.

'Not good,' said Minar shifting his pack uneasily on his shoulders.

Isaac trotted up on Snaps who appeared to be enjoying the journey. 'Why not put some of your gear on Snaps, not too much or you will cripple him but some should make it easier for you and I think I can keep up with your long legs if I walk as I don't seem to be sinking as quickly as the rest of you.' They happily agreed and loaded Snaps as they walked, making the travelling much easier.

They walked until sunset and the seascape changed very little from when they left. They could see no sign of life and no fish seemed able to live in such an environment. The wind increased slightly and still was not powerful enough to cause waves in the thick soup of the lake. The whole surface looked like a barren plain of bluish white stretching around them unbroken.

Kolin studied his maps one last time in the fading light and shifted their direction slightly north the setting moons a beacon they could follow for a few hours at least.

'How do we navigate when there is moon less night?' asked Isaac.

'I have some skill in this area Isaac,' said Arad. 'Remember where I found you. I often would travel to the eastern boundaries of our country and find my way back without maps or moons. If Kolin wishes us to head in this direction then you need only follow my lead and we will be straight as an arrow be reassured.'

They all took comfort from Arad's confidence and walked with him keeping the conversation to a minimum, all knowing the further they moved west, the further they were from the safety of the land. They were all getting very tired and shuffled their feet at times so slowly they began to sink which would spur each to greater speed.

The night passed uneventfully other than one time Isaac felt sure he could see a distant light bobbing on the furthest reach of his eyesight and then disappearing. He did not mention it to the others even though he felt positive he did not imagine it.

Hours passed and the stars wheeled in the sky before the eastern horizon behind them began to lighten and a quiet stillness gripped the lake. The dawn was eerie with none of the usual pre dawn chirping of birds and the morning possessed a stillness they felt did not bode well. All they could hear was the regular heartbeat of their footfalls as they slushed through the water.

As the sun began to peak over the brim of the water they could see clearly in front of them the unmistakable shape of land. A single jut of a mountain and the craggy broken shoreline of a small island surrounding it were no more than an hours march ahead.

Relief swept them all as they were getting so wearied of walking that another few hours would see them all struggling to stay afloat.

'What is the name of this place again?' asked Isaac.

'It is called many things but we know it as the Island of Aram. Others call it the Isle of the Dead. Legend has it those who lived their life through evil must remain until they repent and then they can pass into death. No living creature is permitted on her shores, but it is here we must go. Desperate indeed must the towns folk have been to navigate to this wretched place. Let us now see how accurate the lore of our people is.'

Isaac turned to Arad who had a shocked look on his face.

'Are you all right Arad? You don't seem too eager to get there.'

'I have no desire to see death Isaac. You claim your people believe in an afterlife so for you it may be quite normal to visit the dead but not for me. I believe the dead should remain so and pass from this world, not linger in such a place as this. It is to me both frightening and distressful you cannot leave this life in dignity.'

'I hope they appreciate your concern,' said Minar. 'I just want to apologise to the townspeople and get back to shore thank you very much. I agree with Arad. This place is to be shunned and feared. Already I can feel the cold touch of death all around me.'

They could feel a chilly breeze blowing from the island, in complete contrast to the balmy weather they felt to their backs. Isaac sensed an oddness about the island and as he already knew, anything could be possible in this world he had landed in.

Suddenly a piercing howl filled the air around them. All the hair on Isaac's neck stood up and even Kolin jumped when he heard it.

'It is the cry of the Fylgia,' said Arad in a quiver of a voice. 'Where there are Fylgia, there is always trouble.'

They walked with more cautious steps, still keeping enough inertia to stop from sinking. 'We must firstly reach the land and then we can be scared if we want but out here we are too exposed and in danger. Quicken your pace people there is adventure ahead.' Kolin took off at a jog and motioned the others to catch him. Isaac swung himself onto Snap's back along with the packs and cantered behind and soon they reached the rocky shoreline of the Island of Aram.

The island looked as barren as the rest of the lake. Few trees or any other growing things could be seen and rocks both smooth and jagged peppered the landscape. They climbed as best they could all feeling much better with the sureness of solid ground under them.

'Should we announce our arrival or creep and crawl our way to whatever it is ahead?' asked Minar who felt in a jittery mood.

'There is no need for announcement Minar the Loyal,' said Kolin. 'We are expected.'

The four travellers looked above and ahead of them and among the rocks stood a tall stark creature. A boney, skinless face with a bare skull looking back at them. The body, unlike the face appeared to be made of flesh and blood. It stood about seven feet tall and looked wispy thin and translucent. It swayed in the breeze like a spider's thread and its deep eyes were blank, dark recesses in the bony face. Next to it rose a similar creature and then several more glided out from either side of them. Within minutes there appeared hundreds of the ghostly figures, floating on the air currents around them all staring with their vacant eyes.

'I believe we are out numbered,' said Arad drawing his sword. 'But I will make sure we re kill most of these horrors before I die.'

'Be still!' commanded Kolin in such a voice Arad froze his advance instantly. 'Have you learned nothing from your years in this world Arad. Not one of these creatures has moved to harm you, yet you immediately wish their destruction. This is the same claim we make against the Invader and here we mirror their actions. We will attempt communication first and battle last. Don't you think if they meant us harm then they would already have done so?'

Kolin placed a hand on Arad's shoulder smiling gently as he lowered Arad's sword for him.

'You are still very young Arad consider this a life lesson for you.'

Arad sheathed his sword and with a red face smiled to Kolin in return, accepting the great leader's direction.

'Well done,' said a voice high aove them. 'Well said and well done.'

The four stared up into the rocks and between the ghostly images they could see a figure moving towards them.

'You!' exclaimed Isaac. Among the rocks stood an old man, his bushy eyebrows and half smile recognisable immediately to Isaac. 'Where the hell have you been?'

The old man chuckled, 'Now, now Isaac remember your manners please. We have discussed this before if you recall and I thought you would remember what happens to rude little boys.' He jumped off the rocks and landed lightly in front of Isaac. 'Where I have been is my business. More to the point where am I going might be more pertinent.'

It seemed many months ago to Isaac since he saw the old man although in reality only weeks had passed. He looked much the same as before and no worse for the encounter with the demon who destroyed the painting, some slight singing to his long robe the only proof of the recent battle.

'You know this person?' asked Minar as he looked at the old man suspiciously.

'Yes. Isaac and I have met before Minar the Loyal,' said the old man. 'I am the reason he is here although I am very surprised he managed to survive this long. No doubt he had Arad the Source of Peace and the mighty Kolin to thank for that.'

'You have us at a disadvantage,' said Kolin with no hint of surprise in his voice. 'You seem to know a great deal about us but so far have withheld your own identity.'

'I do not give my name rashly Kolin the Great,' said the old man with a sly look in his eye. 'Just as you do not. You may earn the right to hear it and then you can respect it all the more.'

'You know our customs well,' said Kolin confidently. 'So be it. When we are deemed worthy you will honour us with your title.'

'That's better then,' said the old man. 'Now we are getting somewhere. Come. You had better follow me and my friends. We have quite a bit to discuss before we leave.'

The spectres bobbed and bounced in the air and the friends filed past them warily. Once they passed, the ghouls followed at a distance while the old man guided them through the rocks.

Once over the initial shoreline of rocks, the land took on a more friendly hue. While Isaac could not describe the land as pleasant, it did not seem as brutal and fierce as it first appeared. He could clearly see grasslands and trees, with some wildlife of rabbit and grazing beasts looking like a hybrid of sheep and cattle, quite large and Isaac thought very difficult to shear.

They began descending into a valley shadowed by the enormous mountain they saw from the lake. A few miles ahead, a small township peaked through the trees. Welcoming wisps of smoke leaked out of the baker's chimneys and the smell of fresh loaves made their mouths water.

The old man appeared much more spry than seemed possible and he put a great deal of distance between himself and the rest of the party. 'Hurry as best you can.' They heard his voice sail along the breeze back to them as he disappeared into one of the buildings. Behind them the noise of the ghosts had stopped and once again they found themselves alone.

'I don't understand exactly what is happening,' said Minar. 'However I will be eternally grateful to that little old man if he can feed me some fresh meat and vegetables. I think I have forgotten what that tastes like. Tell me Isaac, you obviously know this creature, what can you tell us of him?'

Isaac thought carefully before he answered.

'Not much really,' he said bumping along next to Minar on Snaps who became quite frisky now he sensed a promise of food and shelter ahead. 'I met him once in my homeland. He is a curiosity.'

Isaac did not want to tell too much of the real story. The giants thought his beliefs odd enough without introducing a universal wanderer who spent most of his days fighting a beast who is intent on destroying life everywhere.

'He does not give his name easily which to me is a good thing,' said Arad. 'Did you all notice however that he knew ours?'

'Yes,' said Kolin. 'He is an oddity that is for sure. There is a depth to him we are yet to see. I have a feeling I know this man.'

They reached a large house and entered an enormous room, brightly lit from a warm hearth, a pot of soup steaming slowly on the coals, the smell wafting tantalisingly in the air. The roof stretched three times as high as Kolin, the exposed beams the nest for hundreds of birds who began chirping the moment they entered.

Chairs, tables, plates and spoons lay ready for them and even the larger men found the room and seats just the right size. They helped themselves to a serving of the soup and also took a small loaf of fresh bread sitting on the tables. Arad finished first and sat back loosening his belt as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

'Well, if this is what it is like to be dead I wouldn't be telling anyone or we might find the living jumping off cliffs.'

Minar agreed.

'I have never contemplated it before now,' he said. 'Would the dead require food at all? They are hardly going to die a second time from starvation are they? And mind you I don't wish to appear ungrateful, as I enjoyed the feed very much, but something is not right here.'

Kolin kept to himself and began chewing on an Aeserian sized apple he took from a bowl on the mantle above the hearth. He stared out of a window in contemplation, trying to recall something from his deep memory. All of a sudden he slammed his fist on the shelf and began chuckling.

'That's right mighty Kolin,' said the derisive voice of the old man as he entered the room. 'It took you long enough. Don't I leave very much of an impression on the people I meet.'

Kolin turned around and smiled broadly. 'Not at all Wodan, what confused me momentarily was the fact that last time I saw you, you stood as tall as I. The voice I knew immediately. It was the stature that muddled me. What happened to you? Did you stand out in the rain too long and shrink?'

'As funny as ever Kolin. You have acquired quite a wit in the last thousand years or so. I seem to remember when you couldn't even spell the word.'

'Your insults are less powerful coming out of someone your size Wodan. It is your mouth that is amusing not your jokes.'

'Then perhaps this would be better.' The old man incanted some mumbling verse and in front of disbelieving eyes he began to grow, swelling to thrice the height of Kolin, his head brushing the topmost rafters of the huge building, a booming voice shaking the roof as the birds fled in horror.

'Is this more impressive Kolin the Great? Or perhaps this.' He drew from his back a sword a hundred times larger than anything Isaac could imagine and Wodan swept it through the air forcing the men to dive for cover. When they finally raised their heads the old man reverted back to his normal size and sat in front of the fire looking feeble and frail, chuckling heartily to himself.

'I have little time for amusement these days Kolin, but I must tell you I enjoyed that immensely.'

'That is good Wodan. It makes this trip worthwhile if you get some joy from it.'

'Wodan. So that's your name is it?' said Isaac. 'Why didn't you tell me that back in the museum?'

'There you go again Isaac, you really are quite a rude fellow. Maybe the rudest I have met and that is saying something. You still make demands on others and burden them with your expectations. To keep you quiet I will answer and the answer is no. Wodan is not my name. It is, _a_ name and one Kolin chooses to use to give me identity. He is happy that way. My real name is not for the likes of you to have at this stage.'

'Why Wodan? What does it mean?' asked Isaac.

'How do you travel with this one?' said the old man rhetorically to the others. 'He is high maintenance. Have you ever heard of the word 'please'? Don't answer, I already know. Wodan means Wednesday to these people Isaac and I happened to meet Kolin on a Wednesday and this is what he called me and what I chose to answer to. Happy?'

'Not really but it will do for now oh wise Wodan,' said Isaac with a deep bow.

'Did I use the word smart ass last time. Yes I think I did and it was well said and no, you cannot call me Wodan, as I said this is the name Kolin has decided to use and I allow it. You can call me nothing other than sir and that is enough for you at this stage, now sit down.'

'Everyone seems to know each other except us,' said Minar pointing to Arad. 'There are also some gaps here I would appreciate being filled if you would all be so kind.'

'Yes Minar, there is much to tell of the meeting between myself and Wodan and I should have known he was behind all of this. Island of the Dead. Yes, that has your style about it Wodan. Keeps undesirables away I assume and lets you do as you please isn't that right?'

'Quite right Kolin. I have been very busy lately and the last thing I needed was to be annoyed by pesky intruders. I merely shrouded the island with my own images and created the odd myth or two and that secured my privacy. I have used this as a home base so to speak for many thousands of years and it suits my needs.

'What about the people in the town?' asked Isaac.

'He is not very bright is he?' said Wodan to Kolin. 'Do you have to tie his shoes for him each morning?'

'Yes and your a real joy to be around also,' said Isaac with contempt in his voice. 'You dump me in the middle of this world where I have nearly been killed a dozen times already and lose patience when I question the simplest things.' Isaac threw himself into the nearest lounge in a sulk and stuck his chin in his hands deciding they could all go to hell. He would merely ride out the rest of this adventure with little to no input and the crabby old goat can do all the work himself for all he cared.

'Well who got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?' said Wodan.

'I haven't seen a bed for weeks you pain in the ass,' said Isaac.

'It seems these two have a fixation with the buttock,' whispered Arad to a smiling Minar.

'I will speak slowly Isaac and try to pay attention. I found this land many years ago, including the town which, as you saw, is mostly empty. You have ghost towns back where you come from Isaac, well this is similar. You merely presumed incorrectly people are still living here and escaped to this island in desperation. I must admit I do find it laudable you tried to atone for the stupidity of the grass fire. I did not expect it and it is rare I do not predict others actions. Anyway, most of what you see around you is illusion only and if you knew how to look you could quite easily see through the facade.'

All four of the travellers now looked sceptically around them and slowly their focus changed and as if a veil lifted from their eyes, they could now see the landscape differently.

Whereas before they saw a rugged and unfriendly place that housed the oasis of Wodan's house, they now saw lush grass and acres of forest. A morning dew covered the ground outside the window and wisps of fog hung quietly over groves of daffodils. A scent of honey and wildflower filled their noses and the air around them felt warm and pleasant and not at all threatening. The mountain occupying the centre piece of the whole island was now covered in a smooth grass skin, the apex a crown of tall trees.

Questions filled all of their faces as Wodan motioned for them all to sit and sip on a fresh ale appearing suddenly in front of them.

'I too know illusions Wodan,' started Kolin. 'My own island is a practice in the art, a paradise I wished to disguise from others but what is your purpose?'

'Yes, it is time you knew. I really did not expect any of you to get this far and especially you Isaac. I said from the beginning you and Darion were enigmas to me and I cannot second guess your influence on the momentous events ahead of us.'

Isaac sat bolt upright at the sound of Darion's name. He felt ashamed of himself for not giving his friend much thought recently.

'Do you know what has happened to him?' he said. 'I feared I might never see him again.'

'Your friend is alive and well Isaac, and quite happy from what I hear. You might be very surprised indeed to see how he has acquitted himself and I must say he has done a very nice job of it. Very nice indeed. I think you will be particularly impressed with his new girlfriend.'

'Girlfriend! What has the idiot been doing? I have told him a million times not to get involved with women. They are trouble that's for sure and now he has one. I hold you directly responsible for this you know.'

'I think you might change your mind when you see the woman. She is a singular beauty and I have seen my share over the years and in many worlds other than this one and I can assure you this woman has no peer anywhere. Just the sight of her will make your legs wobble.'

'When will I see him? Where is he?'

'He is where you are going. In Mesania. But for the moment I think you could all do with a some rest. You have had a hard time of it recently.'

A wave of exhaustion washed over the friends. It had been two nights since they slept properly and now Wodan mentioned sleep they all dropped their heads where they sat. They mechanically followed Wodan through the house not taking notice of their surroundings until they passed through a large studio. Inside, hundreds of paintings hung around the walls and rested on small timber easels. Isaac looked at the first few and again saw the master artistry of Wodan. As was the case in the museum, all the paintings looked to be of the same scene but this time Isaac thought he recognised the land, the unmistakable Mount Fujiama the central feature.

Knowingly Wodan looked at Isaac.

'There is something ancient and mysterious about Japan. I think it is a place my foe would have trouble finding me if I am in need of escape again.' He walked to the painting on an easel and shook his head. 'But it will be many of your years until it is complete and things may well be finished before then I think.'

Isaac thought Wodan looked very feeble right at this moment. His face was drawn and gaunt and he seemed mortally tired. He shuffled out of the studio and led them to separate rooms where the travellers dropped off to asleep the instant their heads hit the downy pillows. Wodan hovered in the room for a few minutes and bent over the sleeping Isaac.

'Sleep well Isaac,' he whispered. 'Your time is about to arrive, if I am not mistaken, and you will need all your strength.' He pulled the blankets up over Isaac's shoulder and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

Isaac woke early feeling better and more refreshed than any time in the last few weeks. The sky was clear and the sun crept over the horizon. He picked his shirt up from the end of the bed and noticed for the first time how motley he must look. He found a mirror and surveyed his new face. A thick beard clung unevenly to his cheeks that had become slightly scared and hollow from exposure. He thought he had aged considerably since his arrival. He ran his hands over his chest. He had almost no body fat on his torso and his chest looked as if he had lived in the gym for six months. He could feel the power in his arms and legs. Although scruffy, he liked what he saw, a weather beaten man whose body looked like it had stories to tell. It gave him confidence.

He found a razor, some soap and scissors and gave himself a shave, a wash and a haircut, the latter leaving his neck bleeding. The face wash took the edge off his body odour and without a shower it was the best he could do. The others still slept so he grabbed an apple from the table and went outside. The air was crisp and fresh and already the sun suggested the day would be hot as it stung his face. He followed a well trodden path skirting a bubbling stream.

He enjoyed the walk and after about an hour he reached the edge of a deep blue lake at the base of the mountain. Small fish jumped in the gurgling water running from the stream and into the lake. Small walls of reeds housed tiny green frogs who began an early morning chorus. Isaac picked up a rock and hurled it into the water the splash creating little rings fanning across the surface. It occurred to him he had seen this picture before and it struck him suddenly this was the very scene Wodan had painted back in the museum.

'Not a bad likeness if I do say so myself.'

Isaac jumped as Wodan came up behind him. 'The problem is the water. Do you know how hard it is to paint water accurately. It forever changes. One splash of a fish and you have to start over and by then the reeds have grown ever so slightly. Or perhaps a bird nestles on the surface or picks at some food on the ground and the picture alters again. That is why it takes so long to get a masterpiece. The painting is the easy bit, it is the scenery that often won't cooperate.'

'Well, in all seriousness Wodan, if I am allowed to call you that?' said Isaac slyly. 'I cannot think of another place I have ever seen, including Kolin's island, that comes anywhere near how beautiful this place is. I think a man could spend his years here quite contentedly just living with the land. No smog or the chaos of the city. No arguments or bustle, no crime, no punishment. It is wonderful and calm. Life is a little clearer to me.'

Wodan looked at Isaac with renewed respect.

'You have grown young Isaac. I think I like the new you much better than the old.'

'I think I do too Wodan.'

The pair stood looking at the water for a little while longer and then went back to the house to raise the others and although he had become very close to the massive men he decided to keep the lake a secret, a special place he would keep as his own.

Isaac opened the door and slammed it behind him while kicking at Arad's pillow. 'Come on, you lazy sods. Time to have some breakfast.'

Isaac barely finished the words when the giants sprung up out of their beds immediately awake. Kolin drawing a hidden sword so fast he nearly stabbed him while Minar and Arad took posts at either end of the room.

'Take it easy. It's only me,' said Isaac nervously.

'It does not profit anyone to startle a sleeping Aeserian,' said Kolin sheathing his sword beneath his shirt. 'Let that be a lesson to you.'

The men straightened their clothes and hair and went back to the previous night's dining room where once again trays full of food sat in the middle of a large timber dining table. Some fresh milk, loaves of bread and a steaming bowl of porridge made the men's mouths water.

Isaac sniffed the air around him and circled the room. He ended up next to Arad.

'Arad, don't take this the wrong way but you could really do with a bath,' said Isaac bluntly.

'Is that right? Well it may come as a surprise to you that your stature is disproportionate to the odour you have been exuding lately and a more pungent and unpleasant smell I cannot recall,' said Arad.

'What about the day you found that deer carcass?' joined Minar. 'It lay in the sun for a week decomposing in a low pool of water. That was quite foul.'

'No. Isaac is much fouler than that,' continued Arad.

'Well what about the rotting and fetid water housed in the sewerage of Salnikovia. He must smell that bad,' said Kolin joining in.

'No, No. Much fouler than that Kolin. He has no peer in offensive smells.'

Wodan entered the room and joined in.

'Well, let me tell you, the swamp lands on the other side of this sea are some of the most objectionable smells anywhere in the world and they are positively fragrant compared to the stench leaking from Isaac.'

The men all laughed as they took their seats leaving Isaac red faced and angry until he too laughed with the rest and they sat down to a hearty breakfast after which they all bathed in natural showers of fresh water falling from a rock waterfall at the back of the house. They went outside and dried themselves in the morning sun.

'As pleasant a respite as this has been Wodan, time presses us to continue. You have indicated you will be assisting us but thus far you have reserved the detail,' said Kolin.

'Yes I will be going with you all and we will try to get to Mesania before Hammer does. That however is the least of our problems.' For a second time Isaac thought Wodan looked very tired as if the burdens of the world rested on his shoulders. Isaac had not forgotten the fantastic story Wodan told he and Darion in the museum, nor the images of the horror nearly killing them all. He hoped he would never see the creature again but deep inside him he knew somehow the monster would track Wodan down. Here on Salnikov they may meet again.

'Men. You are part of great events and you are yet to realise it. You must stop Hammer from his senseless crusade as he fights those who should be called friend and not enemy. I know the thought of the Invaders being allies is an idea that revolts against all your teachings but the forces of Salnikov need to unite and not be split asunder. It is not Hammer we need to be worried about.

Kolin, you know me as Wodan and others call me different names. Among those you call Invaders, I am 'The Saviour', in Dessan I am merely Tibad the merchant and I am known also in ancient Jotenheim and far across the Manna Sea to the west and Aegir in the north. I also do not restrict myself to the domain of this world. There are many lives on many different planets and I have seen them all. My real name is of no consequence but my origins are. It is time you met me.' Wodan stood as a lecturer might hands behind his back strolling backwards and forwards as he spoke. 'My people created the worlds you now walk freely on. They formed the sky you walk under and the grass upon which you tread. They filled the soils with wealth and the oceans of life. We spread our bounty across the cosmos and looked on it all and saw the goodness we created and we praised ourselves which was our folly. In our arrogance we ignored the natural laws of the universe. For every good deed there is an equal and opposite bad one. For every great man made an evil one will contradict him. It is a balance existing across the spectrum of life.

As the eons passed my people grew stronger and stronger and unbeknown to us, so too did a nameless evil who festered and took form in the farthest reaches of existence. It struck us unawares and destroyed our homes, its power alone as great as ours. It lives only to destroy and will not stop until all the good in the universe is gone and then it too will disappear.

It is a beast and ignores the results of its actions. It does not realise as it weakens us, it too must weaken to keep the Balance. It is a fool. But its folly will eventually ruin us all. For reasons unknown to us, you all have been chosen to play a part in these days. They may be the final days or merely another episode in this ancient battle and this we cannot determine. What we can be certain of is there will be confrontation and on a massive level.' Wodan ceased looking at them and was staring into the sky his back straight and tall/

'The creature has enlisted all the evils at its disposal and will attempt to vanquish us here in Salnikov, at Mesania to be precise in an event called eloquently, 'The Gathering of the Gods'. A fitting place, as it is here it suffered its only defeat in a millennium. I was strong then and it took me too lightly but it has learned and will be more wary.

So the war you try to stop may only be a chapter in this book of life and equally it may also be the conclusion. We cannot fight amongst ourselves when the enemy is nigh. He may sit back and watch us destroy each other and then when we are at our weakest he will strike. This is the Word as told by Jarnell, the Parchments and all the other prophesies down through the ages in all the races of existence. Divided we fall but united we may be able to stave off the creature.'

'What form does this creature take?' asked Minar nervously, clearly disturbed by Wodan's words.

'A great beast with wings and claws. It breathes fire, and can arrive as a wisp of smoke but as strong as the hardest rock. Just to look at its face installs terror into the bravest heart and can send the mind crazed. The challenge is mighty.'

'Don't forget the smell. You think I stink, well let me tell you that this thing nearly knocked me out from the stench,' added Isaac.

'You have seen this abomination?' asked Arad.

'Sure have. It nearly killed me and Darion and old Wodan here back in my home town. Destroyed a whole building in a few seconds. I do not particularly want to see it again any time soon.'

Wodan looked at Isaac carefully his forehead crinkled when suddenly his face brightened.

'You talk of the smell Isaac, I have met the beast many times and now I think of it there is a smell as it arrives. I always thought it was the lump in my pants when I see it," he said.

'The stench filled the room in the museum just before it appeared,' said Isaac.

Wodan nodded slowly. I do not know what advantage I can find in smelling the creature before it arrives. It occurs to me it is something we did not take particular note of before now and as such could be important. It may be a weakness. I have no idea why it has never been noticed but you may have discovered a secret we can use to our advantage. It probably has something to do with the atmosphere on Earth or something innate in the human olfactory sense. It may only be seconds advantage and that may be useful.'

Wodan became very excited hopping around the room talking to himself, stopping quietly for a few seconds and then resuming his jig as if a hundred plans and plots danced in his head.

Kolin stood quietly, listening carefully to all Wodan said and he spoke with a worried tone.

'Wodan a question if you please?.'

'Yes, Yes of course ask away,' replied Wodan in an irritated tone.

'What is your plan for the beast should you encounter it?'

'Why to destroy it of course. What did you think I had in mind.'

'I believe you to have the goal you state. However, if the universe is a balance of good and evil and you destroy the beast will there not be an equal and opposite destruction of things good. And if the beast is a construction of great evil then would it not be correct to assume much we know of as being good in this world and other worlds will cease to exist once the monster is vanquished and so the equilibrium is maintained?'

The room fell silent and Wodan's face became ashen, the sunken eyes and grey hair suddenly aging him in an instant as he realised the truth of Kolin's hypothesis.

'You are right,' he whispered. 'We are fools. All of the great ones are fools, all our plans are foolish and I am the greatest fool of them all. You must be right. Of course you are right. I condemn us all with my very words only moments ago. The balance must be kept. It is The Law and now we are lost. How could we be so blind?'

Wodan left the room head downcast muttering himself in a tongue foreign to the others. Tears brimmed from his tired eyes as the others looked to Kolin in amazement.

'Well you sure know how to spoil a party,' said Isaac. 'I thought old Wodan there was going to have an apoplexy right in front of me.'

'It seems even the wise and powerful are sometimes fallible, they are so fixated on winning the simplest of theory escaped them' said Kolin.

Arad walked over to Minar and slapped a huge hand on his friend's shoulder.

'I know little of the great events just spoken of, but I know some things about men. We cannot defeat evil completely but we must always fight it and in the struggle good men will be sacrificed. That is the nature of the world. But if we do not contend with evil then what do we become? Mere vassals and slaves to corruption and spite, running and hiding from despair. I will not live in such a world. So I say we need to do our part and if this means death then it is an honourable way to exit this world. I will not sit idly by and watch good men and women perish irrespective of the consequences. So I intend to continue our journey and intercept Hammer and if the Dark One arrives with all his minions then I will have to dispatch them one by one if necessary and if that means I too must come to an end then so be it. I intend to die with honour if I am to die at all.'

Isaac, Minar and Kolin walked to Arad and the four joined hands, Isaac's looking minuscule against the others.

'You are why our people are great Arad my kinsman, I will go with you to the end,' said Kolin.

'And I,' said Minar and Isaac together. 'We have a saying where I come from.' said Isaac, 'that evil will only triumph when good men do nothing.'

The four clasped each other warmly when Wodan re entered the room with a wry smile on his crinkled face as he looked compassionately at the others.

'And I will go also,' said Wodan. 'For what it is worth.'
Short steps will gain greater distance than long strides.

Look where you tread rather than towards your goal or

you will miss some of the great messages of nature in your haste.

Jharnell 88/41-44
Chapter 9

The Verity rounded the southern tip of the Tear Drop and turned towards the coast. A fresh breeze filled the sails of the Aeserian navy and the hearts of the sailors aboard also lifted as the battle urge began beating through their veins. Gulls circled the tall masts of the galleon and dolphins porpoised through the bow water as the fleet sliced through the ocean towards the landline ahead.

Hammer took his customary position at the helm. He had hardly left it for the entire two weeks since they encountered the serpents, determined not to be caught unawares a second time. He could now quite clearly see the spying van guard of the Ratites flying high above them careful not to get too close and appearing to the untrained eye as more gulls.

Le Frag also did not leave Hammer's side, concealing himself in a cosy nook allowing him a view of the ship without detection. Le Frag too felt the increase in tension and anticipation now the battle was only a few short days away and he wanted to go over the plans with Hammer one more time before the navy reached the shoreline.

'Your captains have been briefed for a final time?' he asked Hammer.

'You worry too much,' said Hammer as he tied the giant tiller wheel to a balustrade to ensure a steady course. 'They all know their role. We have divided our army into the segments we spoke of and each has again been sub divided to absorb the Ratite attack. Our swords are sharp and our shields shine bright, the pennons of the Aeserians will strike terror into the heart of the foe. None of the flying terrors will live after they encounter the might of the Aeserian race.'

'So long as we don't stray from the plan I think you are right. If even one of our company stray then many others will be lost. They cannot afford to stop and stare at the beasts in wonder, they must attack without delay,' said Le Frag nervously.

'It is what we do best,' said Hammer bluntly.

Le Frag knew how intrepid Hammer was and he equally knew how formidable the Ratite are. He also needed to look out for himself because at the height of the battle it would be easy for him to become a victim especially as no one knew of his existence except Hammer. He would keep close to the Aeserian leader and reply on his protection.

'We should reach the Landings by nightfall,' said Le Frag. 'It is an ancient harbour and deserted last I heard. Still we must be careful. I think we should send out a scouting party to do a reconnaissance before we go ashore.'

'Sound advice Le Frag. It will do us no good to have our arrival discovered and if there are settlements we need to know their military strength.'

Hammer moved to the forecastle and spoke to a ruddy faced giant who looked vaguely intelligent but also had a keenness in his eyes only impending battle will provide.

'Faldor the Intrepid. When we are close to shore I want you to take one of the row boats and four men. Under the cover of darkness you will scout the shoreline and report straight back to me. I do not want you to be discovered and if there are people in the vicinity I do not want you to engage them even if they espy you first. Scout only. Do you understand me.'

'You spoil the fun Hammer the Exalter,' said Faldor 'can we not have even a little play while there. I have honed my sword for two weeks and it is hungry for the taste of Invader flesh.'

'Your sword will have its fill Faldor when the time is right. But for now stealth is more important to us than bloodshed.'

'Very well. But can I request that my troop have the honour of launching the first attack when the time comes?'

'It is a place of honour indeed to be in the van. I will consider your request and a successful sojourn to the coast and back without incident will accord you great favour with me.'

Faldor thrust his fist into his chest and bowed curtly to Hammer and began organising his men.

'You see how they thirst for revenge Le Frag. I pity the Ratite and I pity the Invader more. We will annihilate them utterly.' Hammer punch a huge fist into the timber rails making a deep wound in the hardwood and he marched to his quarters followed in his shadow by a skulking Le Frag.

Faldor's boat silently brushed up against a sandy beach near what appeared to him to be an ancient stony wharf about six feet above the current sea level. The full moons on each side of the sky kept the night bright, so he made sure he kept to the shadows of some trees overhanging the bay and thus disappear from spying eyes. His men dragged the small boat quietly into the bushes and began taking points to the north and south making small cooing, birdlike noises to signal their positions to the others.

Faldor sniffed the air and held his breath while he listened for any sounds, his thumping heart beat the only noise. After a few minutes he moved forward, ensuring he kept under cover. The land was barren of any living things although there was evidence of settlements here at some stage in the past, the area littered with the broken foundations of hundreds of buildings.

He heard the dull lapping of water against the quay behind him as he moved further in land. In the distance he could see one of his men silhouetted against sinking moons. He must remember to chastise this one for carelessness. If he could see his outline then so too could spying eyes. Just as Faldor's man slipped into another shadow Faldor felt certain he saw a sweeping shape follow after the him and then just as quickly disappear. It was so swift for a moment he thought he was mistaken but somewhere inside him he could sense an impending danger. He held still once more and tried not to breath, slowing his heart beat. He stood as still as the rocks around him, trying to pierce the darkness, searching for the peril he could now almost taste.

Moments later he could see his man breach another dark space, the body again outlined by the moon. Suddenly a dark spot in the distance rose out of the ground and smothered his companion so quietly he was again uncertain anything had happened. He started to investigate when a loud swooshing of wings rose from the space where he last saw his man. It climbed into the air a body clearly seen hanging limply from the taloned legs of a giant bird.

It rose higher and higher, the sounds made by the wings abating until almost dreamlike Faldor stood in shock but regained his senses quickly, dropping to the ground and placing an ear to the dirt as he tried to distinguish any other sounds or footfalls. His expert hunter's senses could hear a deer at a thousand yards, but he could find no rumour of any of his troop. Calming his erratic thoughts and reminded himself that as a soldier in the Great Aeserian Empire, he is one of the most powerful creatures in creation. He stood tall and drew the wide sword out of the sheath on his back and held it defiantly in the air. Terror seemed to be all around him and he could feel the cold sweat of fear running down his temples.

Faldor swung around and the dark shape of a massive creature towered over him. It flicked a leathery wing smacking him on the side of his head and flinging him to the ground. In an instant a taloned leg sat on his chest and began squeezing until spurts of blood pumped out of his mouth. Within seconds Faldor was dead and the great Ratite bird rose in the air with its prey and flew towards the Ice Mountain where it could present the intruder as an offering to its king.

Hammer stood wearing a worried expression as he stared at the distant shoreline. He knew Faldor was brave, bordering on frivolous and at times slightly impetuous however in one respect he remained reliable. He always obeyed orders. He told him to keep a low profile and scan for intelligence and return immediately and that is exactly what Faldor would have done no matter what the temptation. No, there had been trouble and of what kind he could not guess.

Le Frag climbed up beside him, careful to remain hidden.

'What are you thinking?' he asked.

'I am thinking there is every chance Faldor and the troop are dead or imprisoned, the former I believe as who, or what, could possibly restrain one of Faldor's nerve. We are therefore very likely discovered and that is our problem.'

Le Frag also tried scanning the shoreline unsuccessfully.

'Then we must either attack in full or retreat to another landing point. As you know time is our enemy and I know of no other harbour that could accept your fleet.'

'Attack it is then. A foray onto guarded land is always a difficult and dangerous endeavour especially when we know little of the enemy's strength and fortifications. We could become entrenched in a costly battle we have no guarantee of victory in.'

Hammer considered his options when something heavy dropped from the sky and crashed though the ropes on the main mast, landing at his feet. He jumped backwards his sword drawn as a reflex moving to a bloodied lump at his feet. The other Aeserians gathered around the pile some breathing curses under their breath.

Hammer leant down and with his sword poking the pile and turning it over. The men around him gasped in horror as the scarred and scratched face of Faldor stared up at them through eye sockets picked clean by the Ratite. Hammer searched the sky and in the distance he could see two flying shapes circling far above his ship. He kicked viciously at the bundle until it bounced over board, splashing into the ocean, its empty skull quickly filling with water and disappearing into the bay.

'That is not Faldor the Intrepid. He is a man, not that abomination,' said Hammer to his shocked crew as he followed the Ratites across the sky. 'Beware the wrath of Hammer. My revenge will be swift and deadly. We attack immediately.'

Horns and whistles blew from the Verity and were answered immediately from the other vessels in the navy as all the row boats hurriedly dropped into the water and quickly filled with the seething army. A hundred boats headed for shore each filled with dozens of Aeserians their faces grim as they rowed towards battle.

'Stay within your groupings,' ordered Hammer to the lead boats as they passed the instructions amongst the leaders. 'We attack the winged ones in our squads, not alone. I want all these fell creatures to perish at the tips of our swords.'

The boats crashed onto the sands and men leapt out in ordered fashion keeping close quarters as they searched for an enemy to smite. They scoured the entire shoreline and inland half a mile and they could find no sign of any of the giant birds.

Hammer disembarked after the others and in a more calm fashion investigated the western side of Salnikov. He carried a large creel with him and he ordered the others in his boat to also scout the area around the Landings. He placed the creel down and Le Frag's head peered out of a hole in the top.

'Tell me what you see Le Frag,' demanded Hammer. 'And be quick about it I want these creatures dead.'

Le Frag looked around him. Rock fences and foundations stood unevenly across the beach head with heavily overgrown wharfs jutting into the ocean. The bay they moored in had natural protection from the vagaries of the ocean by several rocky groynes stretching like fingers into the deep harbour. Le Frag could imagine the port being able to moor many hundreds of merchant ships at any one time.

'This would appear to be a perfect place for a city Hammer. I would suggest it became almost impossible to keep populated if the Ratites visited often. There has been no man living here for hundreds of years.'

'I am not interested in a history lesson Le Frag, I need to know when the Ratite will attack.'

'Do not expect this soon Hammer. They assess us. They count our numbers and test our strength. They have had a victory with the fall of Faldor and this will give them confidence. They will try to draw you out into the open and maybe attack the fringes of the army, slowly witling it away until we approach the Ice Mountain when they will launch an all out assault. We must stop the small incisive raids and in a fashion where our true strength is not proffered to the Ratite.'

'I will not sacrifice any of my people just to screen my strength Le Frag. I would prefer to destroy the first Ratites and thereby frighten them off.'

'I do not believe they will frighten easily, more likely they will re strategise based on new information about our strength.' Le Frag again searched the sky. 'They are an army like yours Hammer and they control the skies. They could now be counting our numbers and dividing the feast amongst themselves.'

Hammer's blood began to pound in his temples. Every element of his being wanted to attack and destroy everything even resembling a bird but he knew it was his prudence which sets him apart from the rest of his people.

'Yes. We will not offer to the Ratite our strength and we will protect ourselves. I crave the Ice Mountain. It is there we will end the reign of these foul carrion of the sky. When I am done they will never return.'

Hammer ordered his army to make a camp on the shoreline and he set heavy sentries around the entire perimeter with instructions to kill instantly anything attempting a breach of the boundary. They needed to be wary of attack from the air as well as the ground and not even the most fatigued Aeserian thought of sleep that night.

The sun breached the eastern horizon without incident and the Aeserians broke camp mustering into their squads of six, each spaced approximately twenty feet apart thereby forming an almost impregnable wall of swords stretching over two miles long. Carts of food and armory trailed the army, heavily guarded from an attack from the rear. Hammer began his inspection with the carts. To the observer he seemed to be talking to himself forever stopping as if waiting for an answer and then attending to another detail.

'The day is askew with the sun rising over the mountains and not the ocean,' he said to the concealed Le Frag who secured a spot in the last carriage. 'It will take us time to acclimatise.'

'For me it is the world I grew up in,' said Le Frag in a maudlin tone. 'The land of my forebears when they escaped the great evil who followed them across the ocean.'

Hammer looked at him curiously. 'You have oft times mention this great evil. Perhaps you can elaborate. We have a considerable journey so why not explain yourself.'

'The Jarnell says the creature perished in a great battle with the Saviour and I pray to all the gods of creation this is so. We do not ever wish to meet its like again. Even your might would be brushed away in an instant.'

'Perhaps so Le Frag. My interest is more in your personal history not your people's. Why do you play the traitor and long to spill the blood of your own? You have told me of the woman but there must be more.'

Le Frag thought long and hard remembering what seemed to him to be ancient history. He recalled the faces of the Yellows and of his father's, as the Yellows offered him to the Blacks as a traitor. The Yellows believed his father, Le Fagan, provided information about the rebellion to the Blacks and as a result Mara the Seeress murdered a hundred of the Yellows as they lay in their beds. It was of course nonsense. Le Fagan, while never openly rebellious harbored secret ambition to also oust the Blacks and once or twice Le Frag recalled his father angrily denouncing the Blacks while in their home.

'My boy will be a man one day,' he would hear him say to his closest friends, 'and then it will be my time and I will lead a victory against the Blacks. A decisive victory that will release my people from the suffering of their lot.'

He knew his family must come first and once Le Frag reached independence, then Le Fagan could sacrifice himself to the Lowership's cause. His stature however made him the subject of vicious rumour mongering and jealousy. There were those in the Yellow rebellion who did not wish Le Fagan to lead them, so they betrayed him and gave him to Mara as an offering and she sanctioned him where he stood with a powerful psy blast turning this brilliant but simple man into a mindless idiot. He often could be seen begging lodgings and food, barely able to remember those who loved him and angry at the many who wished him well. He was doomed to wander the streets and became a vagabond who others cruelly set upon.

The bitterness of those who once were his father's friends consumed Le Frag. He could never forget. A people whom he now despised and would do anything to punish. But what good is revenge if none remain alive to feel his pain. His plans were much greater and eventually he would rule absolutely the remainder of the Mesanians with his bride, the only one left of the ancient higher orders usurped by the Blacks. A queen from the ancient race of Omarins from across the western oceans and she knew little of her peerage. It took Le Frag the better part of his adult life to sift through the records in the city and trace her genealogy. He also worked from the wrong end, not tracing a history back in time but finding the remnants of the royal line and eventually discovering a bastard child abandoned in the bowls of the yellow orders.

He followed her daily when she was a child and waited his time before he contacted her. He knew of only two ways her line could be proven with complete certainty. The first is a faint two moon birth mark on the blade of her shoulder, unnoticed by herself unless she peered in reverse in a mirror and unlikely to be seen by others unless she stood naked to the world. The second is the gift of rejuvenation inherited from time immortal and given to those of royal lineage.

It was many years earlier but he alone espied it. A common enough occurrence. A stroll through the markets and the donning of a shawl requiring her to slightly disrobe and he saw it. He almost missed it completely. She slowly slid the yellow blouse off her slender shoulders and exposed her soft and sleek skin untouched by man. Her curves locked him in a trance and her beauty made the colours of the market place retreat to grey. He wrenched his eyes away and saw her shoulder and the half moons shone brightly, a beacon of nobility he would not forget quickly, and now she is within his reach. When the battle finishes she will be with him forever and he will reveal her as a queen and join with her as a leader of the bones of the refugees of the Omarins. He would rebuild and beg the Great Hammer to employ his people in some capacity. They would accede to all the giants wishes and slowly they would infiltrate and the giants would forget the enemy within until it is too late.

Murder by stealth, a thousand knives brandished in the secretiveness of the night by unseen hands and the giants would be decimated. They would rise as the dominant race of Salnikov and extend their hand across the entire island and he would rule absolutely and those who pained him in his youth and disrespected his family would pay for their crimes a thousand times over.

Le Frag's crooked smile spread across his face but vanished quickly as other realities bit him. This is now a dangerous period in his plot. He still needed to negotiate the Ratites and that is problematic. He could not have the giants be too successful in their campaign. A victory would build their confidence and they may destroy the Mesanians. There needed to be enough left to rule and only a few giants to rule them. It is here he knew he would make a master tactical stroke, for while he told Hammer of the Snow Bears, the true nature of their threat was not considered. How they lived in harmony with the Ratite no-one knew. Perhaps the Ratite left remains of their prey for the bears to eat and in return the bears protected the base of the Ice Mountain for the Ratite. Whatever their relationship they would be entering the melee at some point unexpected and the giants would suffer heavy losses and although he. believed the giants would still win the day they would be much less of the force which set sail three weeks ago.

He did not consider himself an evil man but he could now see how others could perceive him as such and he knew this was their prerogative but he felt certain history would see him at the very least as being a significant tactician and why not? It was after all, he who was likely to write the history anyway. A short chuckle gained Hammer's attention.

'You seem to be enjoying yourself Le Frag. I ask again of your history but if it is too hard a question we can leave it till a later date,' he said with disdain. 'We will see how well you laugh when battle begins and the talons are scratching at your body. It will be Hammer you seek then I think.'

'Indeed,' thought Le Frag. 'We will see.'

The day brightened and the caravan of Aeserians shuffled slowly east through pastures and bush land, often criss-crossing old roads, with each soldier searching the skies for any sign of the flying death. The movement of a thousand Aeserians and the entire process of dismantling tents preparing breakfasts and generally organising themselves for a days march while constantly being aware of the chance of a battle at any moment, meant by mid morning they covered a scant five miles from where they made camp the previous night.

'Our rate is too slow,' said Hammer to Le Frag. 'The seasons will turn frigid before we cross the Ice Mountain.'

'Then the troops must be ridden hard Hammer. To date the whole exercise has been little more than an excursion if you ignore the serpents and Faldor's mishaps. The army will not perform until it has shed the blubber around its waist and tasted some of the hardships we know harden the heart.'

Hammer did not reply accepting Le Frag's observations as being close to the truth. The army looked scared as it jolted along the road, more intent on avoiding contact and self protection rather than a fierce offensive force.

The air chilled significantly since they rounded the northern reaches of the island and now the soldiers broke out their winter coats as the ground in parts became hard and brown. They funnelled through a small reach in the hills aware this would be a perfect place for an attack and still they saw no sign of the Ratite, even the spies in the sky having departed.

Hammer returned to the front of the army and breached the gap first. He surveyed the land ahead. As the last of the hills sank behind them, they could see the distance line of mountains, punctuated by the enormous shape of the Ice Mountain, its white slopes extending far into the sky, a crown of clouds masking its true height.

The sight intimidated some of the Aeserians. Hammer found it exhilarating.

'I have heard your words Le Frag and it seems you do not speak falsely. This is one of the greatest sights in all of Salnikov we cannot fail with land such as this to fight for.'

They made a light camp mid afternoon and Hammer called a counsel of the ten Gross Captains who each controlled a tenth of the forces.

'We are in danger of defeat,' said Hammer with unmasked menace in his voice. 'We feast at each break in the day as if we lounged back home in our Spires and we rise late belching our fatuous selves to sleep and belching to awake. From now it stops. We march twice as hard for twice as long. We will have steel in the steps of our men within a week or there will be none of us left to glorify the quest. There will be no fires set for meals and no tents raised at night. We will sleep rough and travel long. The men must realise they must be mean when the Ratite attack.'

'They may not like it,' said Bolden the Seventh Gross captain.

'Is that right? I am not here requesting a consensus,' said Hammer angrily standing over the shaking Captain. 'I am advising you of how I require you to discharge your duties. I am unaccustomed to having to explain myself Bolden the Crosier. I may take thy staff from thee and pass it to another if that is your desire.'

Bolden sunk his head.

'No Hammer the Exalter, I merely wished to describe the feeling of the men.'

'I am aware of the feelings of the men, it is I who permit them to have feelings. Once the battle begins they will have a joy in their hearts we have not felt as a people for a thousand years, however if they enter the foray unprepared then some will die unnecessarily. Do you find some flaw in that reasoning Bolden? Feel yourself suitably honoured as I have never explained my purpose to another. Does it meet with your satisfaction?'

Hammer enjoyed the effect his words had on the trembling Bolden. The soldier would go back to his troops and convey the messages and the men would march with renewed vigour and all will be well.

'No Lord, forgive my insolence. It will be done as you command.'

'Good, then be away. We march immediately and we will not stop for the fall of night. When the moons set then we can halt.'

The men scurried to give the orders and Hammer took the sledge off his back and held it high with one hand. Those around saw the strength in the greatest of their kind, the biceps rippling through the skin on his arm and all gained courage from knowing he led them through example. To a man they wished for the battle to begin.

The army moved faster but still at a frustratingly slow rate and Hammer again called Le Frag into counsel. 'What say you Le Frag, our purpose is true but our speed lax.'

'An army can only perform if it has food in its stomach Hammer. Your supply lines will be long from here to the coast and back around the far side of the island. This is unsustainable. We must win this war sooner rather than later.'

'I see the Ice Mountain ahead Le Frag surely not more than a good days march. Where is the place where we are most vulnerable? It is here we will be the stoutest.'

'I knew not of the Ratite power to move in the dark but it seems after the assault on the scouts this may be a preferred method of attack. We must be prepared for a night fight and if I read the signs correctly, that night will be either tonight or on the morrow. I am sure before we reach the mountain and not after we have passed its base, we will have conflict.'

The night approached rapidly. Hammer could feel pressure building around him. The malice in the air pushed against his chest. Tonight would determine the fate of the Aeserians. He passed messages along the line and the Gross began loosening their swords and became highly alert to all around them. Each Gross sub divided into twenty-four groups of six and they bunched so as to give to the flying Ratite as small a target as possible and with their swords pressed outwards they presented a spiny prey they hoped would surprise the Ratite. The night passed slowly and the men stood awake and watchful. With the first glimpse of dawn the birds attacked.

They came in a rush, the flapping of their wings making a storm of noise in the valley The sky where moments showed a light grey from the pre sun dawn was now spotted with deep ink as the black winged Ratite began their descent.

They crashed into the Aeserian army ripping and tearing at the shields and helmets of the soldiers who huddled together in their groups of six, none of the birds able to gain any purchase on the men as they held their shields tightly. The Ratite began hovering slightly above each nest of swords, dropping their bulk into the small bustle of men. Their wing spans prevented them from staying aloft while attacking and as their chests dropped, the giant's spears pierced their underbellies.

The battle was one of shadows, each grouping barely able to see the one next to it. Hammer dropped his shield along with the entire of the Aeserian forces who unleashed their swords in a deadly flurry of blood and flesh. Hammer drove directly up and caught the first of the Ratite cleanly in the heart, felling it immediately. He jumped out of the way of the falling beast to avoid being crushed and momentarily he found himself outside the safety of his cloistered bunch. He quickly regained his troop who also succeeded in driving the Ratite away and they picked up their shields.

Hammer looked over his shoulder and saw one of the groups dangerously begin to fracture as the birds hit both sides simultaneously spewing men out of the defensive pod and onto the stony roadway. It took only seconds and two of the Ratite killed and carried off an Aeserian whom Hammer could not immediately recognise. Others also struggled to fend off an ever increasing number of the flying beasts who, sensing they had found a weakness, began attacking the groups from their flanks rather than from above, folding their wings behind them and pecking at the shields while on the ground.

Hammer gave quick instructions to his troop to bunch closer and he broke himself off and sprinted towards the disintegrating section. He reached it quickly and powerfully swung his broad sword with one hand, severing the head of one Ratite and his sledge with the other, smashing another like a gourd.

The other Aeserians saw their leader's, single handed attack and they fought with a renewed strength cleaving hammering and cutting the remaining Ratite into a complete massacre, the few survivors flying off and leaving those wounded to the hacking of the Aeserian swords.

As the last of the Ratite flew off, a huge roar of victory swept the battle field as the men screamed their joy and broke into song aimed at the few retreating beasts. The first victory they experienced as a people for a thousand years made each man feel strong and pride gripped their hearts and minds. They felt infused with a latent power bequeathed to them from their ancients.

Hammer looked skyward swelling with pride in his people, sweat soaking his leather jerkin, his dank hair drooping over his squared cheeks. Men came rushing to him dropping to a knee and hailing him as their master and leader. Hammer knew that finally he had the respect and approval he knew he deserved, his reign of fear making way for a reign of approval gained through valour in battle. He looked at the faces around him and knew any one of these men would sacrifice his life if he demanded it. He looked upon a race united and a tear leaked out of his stern face as he went among his people and shook hands and stroked heads.

The Ratites had managed to breach the defences on several fronts and all told thirty seven of his kinsmen perished. There were no wounded. The Ratite's poisoned talons and their razor wings cut sinew and arteries killing in an instant. One touch from these creatures meant almost instant death.

Hammer mourned the loss and knew there would very likely be more. In war good men died. This fact is irrefutable and can never be altered no matter the skill of him or his men. He ensured they buried each man in proper fashion and on Le Frag's advice they dug a massive hole for the carcasses of the Ratite lest others stray upon the massacre and word gets back to those in Mesania.

Le Frag peered out of his creel and watched the battle in horror. He suspected these giants would be able to use their size to advantage but did not expect the brutality they were capable of. None of the Ratite who flew within sword distance survived and the wounded were given no quarter, merely slain where they bled, the face of Faldor reflected in each of the faces of the Aeserians. But unlike the Aeserians, Le Frag turned his eyes skyward and only he saw the Ratite survivors amassing on the horizon. He smiled ruefully at the celebrating giants. In his opinion the Ratite had not extended themselves at all in the foray and if what he knew of the Ratite were true, they would attack again when the giants neared the bird's mountain home. The birds now knew much of the defence strategy of the Aeserians and they would structure their attack accordingly. Hammer would need to be warned about over confidence. He did not want the giants defeated until he possessed Le Carra and they could not lay siege to Mesania with an army ravaged by the Ratite. No. It is a delicate game he plays. Leave them strong enough to maintain their confidence and weak enough so any victory would cost them plenty. He balanced on the edge of a precipice and a slip will bring all his plans undone. He waited until Hammer sat alone, the army busy burying their dead before he voiced his concerns.

'Hammer you have won a mighty victory,' flattered Le Frag. 'You gained a great deal of personal power and respect on the battle field today and rightly so. You saved many lives with your leadership.'

'You think I am a dullard Le Frag?' asked Hammer without malice. 'I think I know you well enough by now and you give me little credit for military ability, but here is how I see the state of the game at present. Please tell me if I miss anything. You see my men celebrating a victory and consider this somewhat frivolous. You also have spied, as have I, that the Ratite are far from a spent force and at some stage they will renew the war with us, most likely when we are closer to their home at the Ice Mountain. You also think we will wander into their lands over confident and by doing so are setting ourselves up for a significant defeat. This annoys you because you need us to be able to defeat your country men so you can claim your prize and as such you are now going to try to convince me celebrations are premature and we should be more considerate of the nightmares ahead. Correct?'

Le Frag could not lock eyes with Hammer as the giant cannily read his thoughts.

'You read me right Hammer. Why then do you allow such gaiety when victory has not been assured?'

'Because they need it Le Frag. We need to acknowledge small victories along the way to ensure we do eventually defeat all our enemies. We have not fought for a thousand years and here we are defeating monsters at our first encounter. They deserve to celebrate and when they are done we will re convene and replace their fervour with a dash of reality. For the moment let them enjoy for indeed there may not be a tomorrow.'

Le Frag nodded his head. Hammer's formidability grew with each day, which would make his death ever the sweeter.

Hammer decided to remain in the region of the battlefield for one day, letting his men celebrate and regain some strength. They placed sentries around the perimeter of the encampment and for the remainder of the day they saw no sign of the Ratite. The night passed without event, the celebrations eventually abating and the camp fell into an uneasy calm.

In the morning, the Aeserians finished the burying of the dead Ratite, careful not to touch their talons and hair. The army broke camp and slowly moved eastwards, closing on the white capped mountain, its bulk dominating the north east skyline. The ground began to rise slightly and the march became more difficult. The faces of the soldiers showed a stony resolve the glory of the first victory creating a thirst for a second and a third and the army grew eager to greet any new challenge.

They stopped seldom and took most of their meals while walking, living off rations stowed in their packs slung snugly by straps over their shoulders, another of Le Frag's suggestions that impressed Hammer. 'A soldier must be as self sufficient as possible especially when a battle looms as strength is his greatest weapon and one that fails quickly with no food in the belly and isolated from the main body of men.' He told Hammer before they left.

Hammer listened carefully to everything Le Frag told him of tactics in battle and it became more and more evident to him that Le Frag's stature masked a military threat he would need to be careful did not turn against him. At this stage the little man could still assist him however one day his worth as an asset would expire. Once the tactical advantage Le Frag offered him ended, then so ended Le Frag's usefulness and he was quite prepared to kill the traitor instantly once that fact became clear.

Hammer kept his eyes often aloft and even though he possessed farsightedness, he could not see any movement of the Ratite, either as scouts or as an attacking force. He stopped the front of the caravan of men to allow the wagons to catch up and called the men into their Grosses. He watched with worry as he his supply lines lengthen. He left a force of men with the navy and another at the Landings and more still to protect their provisions and his army would suffer further losses. He needed to ensure he possessed a large enough force to succeed. An attack from the rear could be happening and it would be hours before he knew of it. He decided to accept Le Frag's suggestions, and have his army converge on itself to allow better communication and to have as many swords as possible at his disposal.

The mountain covered their entire northern view and the men marvelled at the smooth texture of the sides. Unlike the rocky precipices of the Protectorate Mountains of Salnikovia, this one looked so flat they could see shapes reflected off it. Now closer, they could also see its reflective abilities gave the mountain its name, not because of its coating of ice, as they thought it would be, but because it looked like glass from a distance giving it an icy appearance. As the mountain tapered they saw signs of snow and ice. It seemed impossible to climb as no footholds could be seen. There were no tracks or paths and it looked impenetrable. The army peered at the apex partly hidden by clouds and they could see no sign of any life across the expanse of the mountain. Wisps of steam appeared to leach out of the highest reaches of the mountain, the eerie scenery disturbed Hammer.

'Too quiet Le Frag. They must attack soon if what you say of them is true. There is not a movement to be seen across the miles of the damned mountain.' A light scrub brushed over the Aeserian ankles as they marched and the carts of food and armour became more difficult to pull. Several stallions with two men in charge pulled each cart which held enough provision to supply a troop for a week. The men took their turns as the team leaders, each wagon assigned several troops so there was a constant parade of men jostling in and out of the leather harnesses they used to pull the stores.

Again the attack came swiftly. Most of the army were unaware of anything until some screams of surprise alerted those nearest the breach and then the chaos spread rapidly.

Hammer raised himself quickly onto a rocky outcrop and all around him he could see a carpet of white bears bounding over rocks and bushes landing like snowballs among the cartmen, killing some instantly and upsetting and trampling the stores as they snapped their ivory white teeth into anything that moved.

He immediately understood the tactics. Without their stores, the army would be reliant on foraging and hunting and while they possessed great skill in the arts they would be slowed to a halt as they tried to feed themselves to stay alive. They would be completely vulnerable and nomadic, a spent force and easy target for the Ratite.

'The stores,' screamed Hammer as he leapt off the rocks. He could vaguely hear the urgings of Le Frag who secreted himself behind some nearby rocks.

'Be wary Hammer. The stores can perhaps be replaced. It is now that if I were king of the Ratite I would be attack.'

Hammer stopped immediately as he processed Le Frag's logic. He was right. The Ratite were working in unison with the bears and any minute they would assuredly swoop from some hidden eyrie to finish them off. Even while he marshalled his troops Hammer marvelled at the artistry of the enemy's military tactics although he knew with confidence he had some surprises of his own even Le Frag was not privy to.

Well before they left Salnikovia, Hammer had been amassing hundreds of men to become competent in the use of bow and shaft. They practiced for months until they became expert. He kept them together even when he had dissected his men into their troops.

He called their Captain, Burdon the Fearless who raced to his king's side with an expectant look on his face.

'Your time is nigh Burdon,' said Hammer. 'This is the moment where we will win or lose the fight. The Ratite will attack, I feel it in my very bones, and the men will be so occupied with the bears we may be slaughtered in the hundreds. Let them drive off the bears and let you protect their flanks and their backs from the threat in the sky. If you see anything that flies I want you to place a shaft in their hearts. The day is yours.'

Burdon began shouting orders of his own and men rapidly organised themselves into wings of thirty or more men crisscrossing the battle field until the ground looked like a patchwork quilt. Inside the quadrants, the bears sensed they were being corralled and tried to escape as the Aeserians began to slice them to pieces.

The bears retreated, letting out howls of pain as they ran some with three legs and others dragging themselves on two. Above them the Ratites broke from the sky in a wave of black and fell on the army. With renewed vigour the bears rejoined the fight as the Ratite swung heavy wings and poisoned talons at the Aeserians who were struggling to maintain their fighting turtle positions.

Things would have gone awry until Burdon could be heard above the din of the battle as he blew a single long note on an elkin horn, the music singing throughout the battle field and bouncing back on him from the Ice Mountain. A storm of arrows flew into the bulk of the Ratite as they flew to engage the Aeserians and many thumped to the ground, dead before they landed. Many others were wounded and spinning on the ground uncontrollably with broken legs and wings pierced by as many as fifty arrows at any one time.

The deadly rain continued and the Ratite fell in their hundreds, covering the land with purple blood and filling the air with deafening screams, their black wings looking like death cowls over the land, the only contrast being the white and red snow bears writhing in their own agony as the Aeserians put them all to death.

Never had the Ratites met such resistance from an intruder but they were stronger than a few hundred and their losses they absorbed as part of their stratagem. Far above in the chief eyrie, their king watched through pea like eyes assessing the damage as well as the strength of these giant men.

He had lived long in this world and could still remember the battles with the smaller ones who came from the ocean so bold. They had killed the greater bulk of those invaders however a special one of their kind could not be dominated and convinced him to retreat to the high parts of the mountain. He took care this did not happen again and he searched carefully for the one who appeared to be the greatest of the leaders and he would bend his attack towards him. The others would despair and the day would be won for the mighty Aeponysis.

Of all the Ratite he possessed the greatest sight. Hundreds of miles he could espy game and in seconds he could lift his vast bulk from his dizzy ledge and swoop. None challenged him for kingship in the thousand years he had lived, as his flock would accept a king for life if his skill as a hunter vindicated his position. Year after year he would provide for his people, preparing them for trespass from any creature many days in advance of them entering his lands.

He had travelled himself to the northern reaches where the land burned and smoke belched from the ground and he saw the new threat sailing in their many numbered vessels to attack his land.

At first he thought them mere extensions of those he had previously fought. Now he knew they held a power in their larger bulk and also a will to survive and tactic the others lacked.

He sent a small portion of his troops to assail them. He needed to test their strength and weigh any advantage they may have and then he would attack in full and feast on the bones of the intruder.

Weeks ago he sought the Moonbad bear, the leader of the Snowbears who skulked around the base of his mountain keeping the area clear of any unwanted guests and demanded he was to send the bears into attack. The Moonbad did his bidding through fear. He knew this by the way the bear dropped its head. He also knew without the bears aid, the Aeponysis would need to commit more forces than he wanted at this juncture. Let the bears weaken these intruders first and then he would attack.

The Ratite leader kept his focus on the land below and finally he spied the one he sought. Larger than the rest and stronger, the leader caused havoc wherever it went. It carried some sharps in each hand and these inflicted severe damage on his flock.

He looked further and saw the men aiming high with some new weapon and then suddenly the Aeponysis dropped dead from the sky. His bones chilled further as he saw the manner of their strategy. The leader commissioned another to fire darts into his Ratites thereby freeing him to lay into the bears.

The king watched events unfold and felt his own urge to join the melee. Let them expire themselves and relax momentarily and then he would unleash the full force of his people and in seconds the battle would be won. His gaze narrowed and he saw the mighty leader of the foe brushing his Aeponysis away with ease. An upward strike from his sharp and another died and in the same motion a snow bear lay twisting in pain as its leg twitched next to it, separated from its body by the stroke.

The Ratite king's royal guard surrounded him and stood motionless awaiting their orders. These were the strongest and wisest of his armoury. They were the greatest of the hunters and the swiftest of wing whose line had not been broken from the royal bloods of their race from across the oceans. They protected his person but he would use them in another role today. To be injected into the fight at the most opportune time and win the day.

The king held his breath as he saw the battle turning away from him. With a stroke of a wing he sent another five hundred Aeponysis into the battle and with a sidelong look, his captain and his guards also flew into the fight, straight towards the stark figure of the giant leader.

Hammer heard the air snap from the wings of the new arrivals and with despair he saw hundreds of Ratites rush upon his people like a gale. He saw his ranks break and scatter, their strategy destroyed as each man tried to fight for himself as the beasts tore into them. Blood draped the base of the mountain as the battle flowed towards an Aeserian defeat. The archers fell first and their ranks splintered, destroyed by the Ratites and the men fled in terror trying to find some place to hold up while they regrouped. Only Burdon remained in place as he fired arrow after arrow at the incoming tide broking around him. Of all the Aeserians in his Gross he alone remained unscathed. The bodies of the dead piling around him and the Ratite wary of the strength of Burdon thought it best to move on to easier prey and eventually Burdon ran out of targets.

Sensing the weakness of the giants, the snow bears doubled their attack and slowly Hammer's army was being decimated. He barely registered all of this when a half a dozen Ratite larger than the rest landed near him, forming a circle, their wings spread and touching the ones next to them. At full height they stood taller than he and their pointed and spear like heads crowned beaks full of sharp teeth dripping with venom. They slowly began circling, closing the gap between them and Hammer with each rotation. Hammer followed them carefully his sledge in one hand and the fighting sword in the other.

A calmness descended over him as he stared into the black eyes of his enemy. Most would feel fear he thought but he somehow felt empowered by the sight before him. He stood as the greatest of his kind, proud and brave, the enemy ahead and a mighty arm carrying the strength of his people in it.

He could hear the screams around him and knew only he could save them from destruction. He stared straight ahead as the monsters continued to circle him. He knew he could not afford to have his back to any of these creatures and as such he needed to cause a rift in their circle so he could at least face the group all at once. Without warning he attacked. The Ratite faltered. They expected some resistance but fear would usually cripple their prey well before they needed to fight it.

Hammer leapt at the first creature who drew up in defiance and at the last moment Hammer sidestepped and drove his sword into the gut of the creature three away from him who was caught unawares and dropped dead on the spot. The birds flapped their wings in confusion as Hammer jumped out of the circle dragging his sword across the wings of a second Ratite while slamming his sledge into the beak of a third. In seconds the force sent to attack him had halved and the others stepped back warily.

Hammer rushed at them again and this time they flew a few feet away well out of his reach. They hesitated to attack immediately especially as they could clearly see their kin either dead or bleeding.

The King of the Aeponysis watched with anger. The stupidity of his guards boiled in his cold veins and he leapt off the eerie and dived at Hammer, his speed eclipsing the fastest wind. The three remaining royal guards saw their master from above and re-engaged Hammer. He rushed to meet the challenge and two more Ratite fell dead, the last fleeing towards the mountain.

Le Frag watched the whole event unfold from a safe clump of bushes near the archers, a stone's throw from the berserk Hammer. The skill and bravery of Hammer scared Le Frag. The muscles in the giant's arms looked as if could burst through the skin at any moment as he struck the Ratite with blow after blow. The Ratites across the battlefield saw their elite guard fail as did the Aeserians, who attacked and again the battle turned their way.

Le Frag saw it before anyone. High above, the largest bird he had ever seen, twice as large as the ones Hammer just killed, glided gracefully towards them in a dive aimed at the head of Hammer who swatted another of the snow bears away.

There were only seconds left before impact and Le Frag was not close enough for Hammer to hear him. He saw the hulking form of Burdon run to within a few feet of him and watched as he knelt and with a steady arm shot another Ratite out of the sky.

'Quickly Burdon to the north before it is too late,' screamed Le Frag.

Burdon looked with incredulity at the tiny Le Frag and then northward just in time to see the Ratite king swoop towards the Hammer. Burdon carefully drew the last arrow from his quiver and stood in the open legs shoulder width apart trying to calm his heaving breaths. He knew he needed to shoot true and straight and no second chances would be allowed. The creature was enormous and his arrow would be a mere nettle in its side if he missed his target. He drew back carefully aiming at where he guessed the eyes of the creature would be in a few seconds and confidently he let the shaft fly. The shot landed squarely in the eye of the descending monster who let out a howl of pain as it writhed in the air just above a startled Hammer who realised immediately what happened. The king of the Ratite flew crazily in the air trying to wrench the arrow from its face with its talons but each attempt only caused it further agony. It swept straight up once and then fell in a dive towards Burdon. Le Frag scattered but Burdon had no time to flee, only able to place his bow to his chest before the Ratite crashed into him, a blast of dirt reaching high into the sky.

Hammer looked in shock and sprinted to the heap, Burdon completely covered by the Ratite. The king raised itself on its taloned legs and spread its massive wings wide letting out a deafening cry stopping all who heard it.

Hammer aimed his sword at the king.

'How you live amazes me bird king, however your survival is only temporary. I avenge my people who lie dead in this cesspool and to Burdon the Fearless who I now call the Brave'

Hammer leapt at the king who while severely injured still had an agility belying its bulk. He swung a wing at Hammer who dove under it and struck firmly, severing vital sinew leaving the wing useless and limp a second cry coming from the king.

Hammer circled the dying beast and the battle around him ceased. All the eyes of the Ratite, Snow Bears and Aeserian were trained on the two kings as they battled. The Ratite lifted itself on its remaining wing and tried to throw its' bulk at Hammer. The Aeserian easily avoided the bloated black body and swung another blow into the second wing leaving it dead at the side of the giant bird.

He rolled close to the monster and in one sweep severed a taloned leg, the bird falling to the ground defenseless. Hammer sheathed his great sword and calmly walked over to the writhing beast. The midnight eyes of the King of the Ratite looked fatalistically at Hammer who raised his Sledge leaving it above his head for a few moments before he brought it down on the Ratite crown exploding it like an egg, shards of bloody skull shooting out in all directions.

A roar leapt from the Aeserians who immediately began dispatching the enemy around them until only they remained and a few fleeing snow bears could be seen in the distance. The men dropped their swords exhausted and scanned the battle field. Body parts and blood were strewn across the country side, the Aeserians unable to determine whether they belonged to man or beast. Already the stench of death began filling the air and some of the Aeserians vomited as they saw the carnage.

Hammer loosened his grip on his sledge, the strap to his arm stopping it from dropping to the ground and he began moving among his people counting the dead and caressing the injured. This time there were no celebrations as the men tended to the casualties and covered the faces of those whom they knew and loved counting the victims and crying over the dead.

He moved slowly and sadly to the crushed form of Burdon. He knelt beside him and placed an ear to his mouth to see if could feel any sign of unlikely life. To his surprise Burdon half opened his eyes and smiled at Hammer.

'My King, I told you my archers would serve you well.'

'And so they have,' said Hammer with a tear in his eye. 'And none better than Burdon the Fearless. Rest peacefully Burdon and know with the flight of one arrow you will live for eternity in our lore as a hero, the greatest of bowmen.'

Burdon stopped smiling as his own tears welled in his eyes and he squeezed Hammer's hand tightly.

'Fearless I may be named Lord, but at this moment I am scared.' Hammer caressed his cheek and leant over him and kissed his brow.

'Fear not Burdon, you go to visit our ancestors and you will sit next to the greatest with honour.' Burdon closed his eyes for the last time and Hammer faced the Aeserians around him. 'See Burdon the Fearless, who I also call The Brave, as he passes from the Aeserian world.'

Hammer spent the next day and a half travelling throughout the length and breadth of his army, tending the wounded and offering words of encouragement. Not all his men witnessed the battle with the Ratite king but word spread to every Aeserian and they wondered at the majesty of their king when in full battle cry and they knew with this victory they would soon return to their ancient home in Mesania and reclaim it.

The burials took three days and although mindful of the need to dispose of the Ratite and to bury his own people with promptness and proper ceremony, Hammer looked at his troops with concern. Each day on the road would tire them further and make the next challenge perilous.

He saw, with some pride, his men puffing their chest and straighten their backs as he approached. He also saw their shoulders stoop when they thought he did not see.

'The mind is willing. It is the body that may not be able to complete the task,' said Hammer to Le Frag as the army prepared to sleep one final time on the battle field. 'I have driven them hard and this has helped sustain them. The greatest challenges are ahead as the Invader is called to account and I have little more than three quarters of the numbers I left with.'

'Your people are stoic Hammer and they will follow and fight till the end. I have seen enough to know my people will fail in the days ahead and you will regain your lost lands.'

For the first time since he had known Hammer, Le Frag believed himself to be totally truthful and for some reason his confidence was bolstered. Glory days ahead he thought.

Hammer needed to conduct strategy talks with the Captains now he and Le Frag completed their plans. The time arrived to advise the rest of the method they would employ to attack the mesa.

The Captains filed into Hammer's tent and sat crossed legged on the floor in a circle, while Hammer walked the circumference patting the men on the back and having quiet jests with them. He made sure the mood remained positive and calm as he spoke of the days ahead.

'Men. Our victories are manful. It will however be of no importance if we do not finish what we have begun. Battles come and go and history tells us the mark of a campaign is the end game and ours is upon us.' He looked towards the sleeping roll at the end of the ent knowing it housed Le Frag as he continued. 'I have made a study of this land for many years and I know its lie and what awaits us and it is here we split our forces.'

One of the Captains stood immediately the traditional signal he wished to speak and Hammer looked at him and continued his speech.

'Before I allow Ragnor the Guardian of the Faith to speak I will give you the intelligence I have of this region and then you may comment on the folly of my plans. Agreed Ragnor.'

'By your command Lord,' said Ragnor who regained his seat.

'Mesania sits in the middle of a vast forest we still have to negotiate. It is also surrounded at each point North, South ,East and West by large towers called Sentinels. The Sentinels communicate with each other through reflective glass and as such they can instantly report our approach to Mesania which could be our undoing. We must skirt the forest in four groups with the Eastern one needing to travel the furthest and we will simultaneously destroy these towers under the cover of dark so their communication device will be void. The attack must be co ordinated and swift. We will then move towards the south of Mesania and regroup for the final assault. If we approach directly from the west in one army we will be discovered and the mesa will be fully fortified by the time we reach it and we could not assail it with fifty thousand men and a hundred years to spare. We also cannot circumvent the Sentinels as the forest is too thick and the only paths are the ones that pass the towers. Men, this is the only way. Now Ragnor, you have some concerns?'

'Nay my lord. As has been the case thus far your skills as a strategist are without peer. We will do as you say.'

'Very good, then it remains only to divide the forces. I will lead the Eastern group and you will accompany me. We will take the hardiest of our folk as we have the farthest to travel and we need to march without stopping and with only enough provisions to get us to the end. Once we have cleared this battle field we travel only at night lest we are discovered. Our route is to skirt the forest without entering. We will be at our target in three nights march and we attack the eastern tower at twilight on the fourth day. We do so in unison therefore the western group will have more time than the rest to configure their attack and as such can finish the work of cleansing the field of victory. The moons will have both retired early and the evening night would be dark. We will study the target thoroughly before the assault and we will destroy the Invaders. Do not be late Captains of the Aeserian Army for it will incur a greater wrath from me than any have yet encountered.'

Hammer and the Captains divided the forces and each took a quarter of the soldiers and a crudely etched map describing the terrain. Hammer left with his troop as dusk approached. Approximately two hundred strong and all hand picked. They left their large packs behind and took only their weapons and small sachets of food wrapped around their waste in wallets attached to their belts. They uncovered a little used road reaching north east to a hazy green horizon signaling the beginning of the forests. A shimmering point clearly jutted from the roof of the forest, the western tower looking like a knife pointing directly to the sky.

Hammer ordered the men to move off the road and find somewhere and conceal themselves while they ate some of their food. They nervously waited until full night before commencing the cross country march to the south of the forest with the aim to eventually pass the Southern Sentinel on their way further east.

Because the men travelled light, they moved quickly and Le Frag found it difficult to keep up especially as he needed to stay off the road and having no wagons to secrete himself. He found himself falling farther and farther behind the group catching them only after they were finished their meal

He sidled up to Hammer breathlessly.

'This will be the end of me Hammer,' he said puffing hard and collapsing next to the hulking king.

'The walk will do you good,' said Hammer quietly. 'Your belt has noticeably tightened since you have done no exercise.'

Le Frag could not argue through his exhaustion and threw himself down on some clover and began drifting to sleep. He didn't care who spied him as he did not have the energy to hide anymore. Hammer momentarily softened towards his eternal enemy. Although Le Frag did not know it, Hammer heard his scream of alert to Burdon and while he did not see the bird king until too late, he knew without Le Frag's warning he would likely be dead already.

He remained a cynic regarding the Invaders. Le Frag helped him but only so his own goals could be reached. He knew the little man would likely murder him in his sleep if he thought it would gain him his advantage. Hammer decided he did not like Le Frag after all and would not acknowledge he had assisted him.

The camp was quiet, most of the men exhausted from the battle, the ensuing cleanup and the march. Hammer alone could not rest and seemed more alert than ever before. He felt energised after defeating the Ratite king. He could feel the power from thousands of years of his forbears beating through his body and he revelled in the death throes of the vanquished. In a mere matter of days he would defeat the age old enemy and he would be ultimate ruler of the whole of Salnikov and he would be dubbed the Restorer.

Hammer suddenly stopped his breathing and pricked his ears. He heard a very slight rustle in the bushes around him and then it stopped. The snores of some of the men filled the air when seconds later he again heard a crackling sound in the air. Something definitely moved not far from him. He thought it likely an animal though he could not be in the least dismissive of the simplest issue. Le Frag reached him in an instant fully awake and alert.

'You have heard?' he said.

'Quiet,' ordered Hammer. He listened carefully but the noise had gone. He began to relax when again he heard a noise, this time behind him and slightly closer.

'What is it?' asked Le Frag.

'How in the gods names should I know,' whispered Hammer. 'You are the one who claims some local knowledge you tell me.'

Le Frag moved slowly towards the noise, not from bravado but more from curiosity and knowing Hammer stood only inches from him made him bolder than he would normally be.

He inched a few feet when a greyish white blur darted out from the darkness and engulfed him, whisking him away before Hammer could react. Hammer immediately screamed a battle cry, waking the troop in an instant.

'To arms Aeserians, bring me a torch light. No other fires are to be lit,' he ordered as he frantically searched the undergrowth. He could not lose Le Frag's intelligence. They could not hope to win a battle against the enemy without his skills and insider ken.

Snatching a torch appearing next to him, Hammer drew his sword and charged in to the brush inadvertently setting some of it alight and sweeping trees out of his way in a stroke, his men following behind and spreading out while others stamped out the brush fires.

'Le Frag, where are you?' he called over and over but no sign of any life could be heard. Ragnor appeared next to him. 'For whom do you search sire. Who is this Le Frag you seek?'

Hammer did not answer and bent close to the ground, inspecting a smallish gully in the sandy soil. It looked like a drag mark and he suspected whatever took Le Frag, dragged him in this direction through the undergrowth. The shallow brush gave way as Hammer plowed through it and he found more satisfaction in stomping the ground around him to make a path rather than tread carefully. Ragnor followed behind him at a distance, not game to ask questions.

After a few minutes Hammer broke through the brush, the moonlights showing a circular break in the green some hundred feet across. In the middle lay three large piles of leaves and one smaller than the rest, each covered in a thick vine snaking into the far side of the clearing.

The two men carefully approached the piles, swords drawn and alert to every movement reaching the centre and inspecting the lumps in front of them. The bundles were made of tightly bound leaves thatched together so well no edge could be found. Hammer kicked the first to test its thickness and he and Ragnor jumped back quickly as the sack let out a low moan.

Hammer tried cutting the bonds, careful not to mark the contents but the rubbery leaves made his knife bounce back with each slice. Ragnor also tried to cut but with the same result.

'Lift them and we take them back to the rest.' Hammer raised one of the larger piles onto his shoulder and carried the smaller under the other arm when the bushes around him parted and hundreds of white shimmering creatures no taller than Le Frag emerged and surrounded the two men who carefully placed their packages between them and levelled their swords.

'Be still Ragnor, they have yet to threaten us. Let us see what they want.'

'They want the dinner we have taken back from them is my first reckoning,' said Ragnor warily levelling his sword at the creatures directly in front of him. 'What are they?'

'I am not sure. Methinks they resemble Sprites do they not.'

Ragnor looked with wide eyes.

'Sprites. Yes they look like Sprites would look if there were such things. Thankfully we know they do not exist,' said Ragnor as he marvelled at the little creatures in front of him.

They were man shaped and looked like they existed only half in this world, shimmering in and out of focus. They wore bare chests with only the shortest of pants and each carried a sharp needle almost as long as themselves.

'They only look small Hammer however I don't think I would like one of those spikes sticking into me.' He took a horn from his belt. 'Let me call the army, they will be here in moments and we can rid ourselves of these creatures.'

Hammer eyed the group, trying to find the leader. They all looked so similar that he could not determine rank.

'Do not be hasty Ragnor. We will be living in these parts for ages to come and unlike the Ratite maybe these can be allies rather than foes. I do not want to have peril all around us when re retake our lands.' Hammer walked slowly towards the group and sheathed his sword opening his hands in the universal gesture of good faith.

'I am Hammer the Exalter of the King Makers of the city of Salnikovia on the island of Salnikov in the Great Aeserian Empire. Who are you who stands in my path?'

The shapes shimmered in the breeze floating just above the ground rather than on it. One emerged from the pack and glided towards Hammer making no noise and stopping a few feet in front of the King. It levitated to Hammer's eye level.

'I am Fornestarlumbi. You disturb our lands without invitation. You slaughter those who have lived here for centuries. You trample lands that have always been ours with your clumsy feet and here you ask questions of me. It is our leave you request not the other way around.'

Hammer could hear the malice in the others voice and steeled himself for battle but the political side of him tried for a resolution.

'We mean your people no harm. We only wish to be on our way however I cannot leave these behind,' he said as he pointed to the four bundles near Ragnor's feet.

'We will tell you when you can leave Hammer the Exalter. Rumour of your quest reached us many weeks ago and we have taken counsel with our people to see what threat you pose. So far you have shown a lack of respect for all creatures and walk as if the land housed you only. We do not know whether we can live as neighbours.'

The conversation looked to be heading to conflict as far as Hammer could see so he decided to go on the offensive. 'We have no quarrel with your people though be warned the Aeserians do not take orders from anyone. Now is our time and we too have been victims of great injustices in the past which we will soon right. Step aside or you will see the wrath of Hammer and his Aeserians.'

Amazingly the first shape began to laugh and suddenly all of the Sprites joined in until a chorus of laughter rebounding around the glade.

'Your arrogance is without peer Hammer the Exalter,' said the Sprite with unmasked derision in its voice. 'You think yourselves all powerful. I warn you, we could snuff out your existence in an instant. We are merely deciding now whether we prefer you or the Omarins you intend to slaughter. To date the Omarins have never threatened us in the manner you do. Indeed I do not believe they even know of our existence such is the synergy of our lives in this world. They do not impact on our being. It is obvious to us you however do and that is the issue. We will return with our decision. In the meantime take your people with you.'

The four parcels on the ground sprung open and inside three Aeserians slept soundly and Le Frag, also asleep and apparently unharmed. Hammer looked at Ragnor who stared at Le Frag in amazement.

'What is this Lord, we have one of the Invader folk lying here with our own. How did he come here?'

'It is a long story Ragnor and one I am willing to share with you but only if you hear in confidence. His existence is known only to me and now to you. It must remain a secret from the rest, as I have a need at present for the Invader. He has lived in Mesania and he will tell me its secrets.'

'You will torture it then Lord, permission to remain and assist.'

'Permission denied Ragnor. You have leave to remain silent and that is all. Only you and I know he is here and it must remain so. Should I hear any speculation from any others of an Invader is in our camps then I will know from whence the rumour came and woe to you if that happens.'

Ragnor bowed his head in obedience and left the clearing with two heavy and unconscious Aeserians one over his shoulders and one dragged behind. They dropped the men onto the ground in the camp and the Captains hastily gathered around to hear Hammer. He carefully hid Le Frag with his own pack before he addressed the them.

'Be ware Aeserians. We have stumbled into the lands of the Sprites whom you know from our lore and they are not happy with our presence here. They are confident and unconcerned about our victories and have shown Ragnor and I they may well attack us. We will hold a war council immediately to discover how we can fight these ghosts.'

Suddenly in the middle of the group the shimmering shape of the leader of the Sprites appeared and all the Captains around it jumped to their feet with swords drawn. Hammer remained seated as if he expected the visit.

'You interrupt us without our leave,' he said. 'Am I to assume this is a parley to discuss the terms of your surrender?'

The Sprite came closer and Hammer could hear a slight gurgle of laughter from its white lips.

'It is our mercy you should be concerned with Hammer of the Aeserians. I have spoken to my people and we have decided to give you some quarter or at least the opportunity to save yourselves. It is sport to us but it may well be life to you.'

'Be swift then,' said Hammer. 'We are pressed for time and this diversion will only be tolerated for a short space.' Although Hammer spoke confidently, it masked his great concerns about this new adversary. The Sprites showed no intimidation and Hammer believed them when they said they could destroy them all effortlessly. He needed to keep a pretence of superiority or his troops may panic or lead an assault where they could all be killed. He decided to play the Sprite game and see what eventuated. As yet he had no other alternative.

'You better hope not too swift Hammer, surely you do not tire of this world already.' The Sprite removed itself from the group and sat on a nearby log where some others of its kind also appeared.

'We begin,' it said. 'You have proven yourselves worthy physically with the defeat of the Aeponysis, which we thought interesting. They have only ever been repelled from prey once before, so we acknowledge the feat as laudable however, you must now prove you are skilled in other more cerebral arts we consider much more valuable than brute strength. Therefore you must earn the right to exist on the same plane as the Tssarmanasssintents.'

'Continue Sprite you begin to bore me,' said Hammer. He heard the name they used for themselves and knowing he could hardly pronounce it, he decided to call them Sprites instead and he sensed this seemed to annoy them.

'I give you enigmas Hammer, mysteries wrapped in riddles. I understand your people believe themselves quite proficient in the game. We will see. A simple test really and from your speech someone as mighty as yourself should have little difficulty. The prize however you may see as important. If the problem defeats you then you are also defeated and you and your people will disappear from this world. Is this not a worthy contest and one befitting a great such as yourself?' The Tssarmanassintent leader laughed derisively and the others with him also bounced with amusement while Hammer seethed inside. He controlled his emotions. Now was not the time for lightheadedness. He must concentrate.

'You will have three puzzles and each will be harder than the first. Fail and I hand you to the judges. I am afraid they have already decided your fate. You have until the sands pass through the glassware.' On a large rock next to Fornestarlumbi an hourglass appeared and below it lines of words burned into the stone, the letters steaming and filling the air around them.

'I assume you can read The Broad Speech and if not I will read for you.' said the leader.

'We read and write,' said Hammer. 'There is no need for you to intercede.'

He walked to the rock and read the riddle aloud so all could hear.

### I live in the ocean but not in the sea

### You can see me in the lock but not the key

### I'm in the centre but not the middle

### Guess the answer to solve the riddle

The Aeserians were good at the Enigma Game. It is how they spent their evenings, the challenge to create the most difficult of posers making men wrestle with their intellect for hours. They would never concede defeat and oft times they would defer their answers for weeks or months as they struggled with the clues enlisting the help of entire families who would argue the hours away until they found a solution.

Hammer could play the game well and here he had a quite simple example, the like of which all Aeserians knew. He chuckled to himself. At this stage of the game at least the Sprites did not issue a very sophisticated challenge. He did not think it wise however to show too much confidence and answer too quickly. If he feigned confusion and trouble and gave the answer when all the time expired then perhaps the second question would not be significantly more difficult than the first.

He got to his feet and paced the small clearing, ignoring the pleas of his kinsmen who all guessed the answer and were mortified Hammer had not.

The Sprite leader smiled broadly.

'He stumbles at the first hurdle,' it said. 'The leader must give an answer.' The men around Hammer tried to help and frustratingly they found they could not articulate the answer.

'The question is for the leader and not yourselves. We test his wisdom as king not yours as vassals. There may be latter riddles where you are welcome to help.'

Hammer looked imploringly at the Tssarmanassintent then moved to sit on the rock and then stood immediately and paced the clearing again.

'The time is up leader of the Aeserians what is your answer?'

Hammer snapped his fingers and pronounced loudly with a relieved sigh.

'Of course the answer is in front of me, I feel quite foolish not to have seen earlier. The answer is simply the letter 'C'.'

The crowd of onlookers grew to include the entire of Hammer's portion of the army, even the sentries leaving their posts. They cheered with relief at Hammer's answer and Ragnor looked at the Captain nearest him.

'Hammer would know that answer immediately, methinks he toys with this new enemy.'

Fornestarlumbi seemed a little perturbed at Hammer's success and quickly moved on to the second riddle without congratulations.

'Perhaps the Riddles are too easy. We may have under estimated your ken. Here is the second and the time commences.'

The words cleared from the rock and a new set burnt themselves deep into the stone.

### What is greater than the Gods

### Taller than the tallest mountain

### The poor have it

### The rich need it

### If you eat it you die

The Tssarmanassintent did not lie thought Hammer. The poser was much more difficult than the first. The first followed the same pattern of many of the riddles he knew. This one however differed. Even the chatter from around him ceased as the others also did not know the answer.

Hammer knew the problem many had when they tried to decipher an enigma riddle was urgency. They worried more about their inability to know the answer immediately than try to logically deconstruct each line. That was how he would attack the problem. Usually each line of the riddle held the answer in itself. He would disregard all but the first and try to find the answer that way.

'What is greater than the Gods?' he pronounced to the group. 'Nothing is greater than the Gods.' He used this answer for all the lines of the riddle and it fit perfectly. 'Nothing is taller than the tallest mountain, the poor have nothing and the rich need nothing and if you eat nothing you die. So Sprite, the answer is 'Nothing.''

A cheer erupted from the army as they praised Hammer while Fornestarlumbi let out a curse of annoyance.

'You have told us of the consequences of our failure Fornestarlumbi. What of yours? What becomes of you should I win the battle of wits,' said Hammer.

The little sprite hesitated and then answered.

'We will be at your command lord Hammer. That is how the game is played. This should bother you not. You cannot win. You are at the final enigma and you will stumble. It has never been crossed and you will not be the first.'

For a third time the rocks burned red with words and the voice of Fornestarlumbi could be heard climbing above the din of the army.

### Ten little Aeserians lived by a stream

### If one chooses to cross it is simple it seems

### But for these men they cannot get wet

### And no boats or tools are allowed in the quest.

The Sprites laughed gaily as they saw the quizzical looks on the faces of the Aeserians.

'Surely this is a simple puzzle,' said the Fornestarlumbi. 'It is only the crossing of a stream a task I am sure has been done many times.'

Hammer ignored the taunts. He needed to concentrate on the answer and not the gibbering from the Sprite. All his people fished both in the ocean and the few streams around Salnikovia, they seldom used the streams for any other purpose and fished from the banks not crossing them for any reason. They were traditionally poor swimmers and to cross this river they clearly could not use boats or ropes.

'Are questions permitted?' asked Hammer.

'You may ask as many as you see fit but we wonder why any questions are required when the answer has already been given. The sands pass as we speak.'

Some chattering began among the ranks making it hard for Hammer to concentrate. Ludicrous ideas were being proffered from every quarter.

'Jump across, it is only a stream.' said one. 'But miss the jump and we perish,' said another.

'We need a rope,' called another voice. 'No tools are allowed,' said someone else. The banter turned to worry as no obvious answer could be found.

'You say the answer has already been given,' said Hammer to the sprite. 'Is it then in the riddle or from words heard previously?'

Fornestarlumbi and the other sprites laughed loudly.

'It asks a question,' said the Sprite. 'I said you may ask as many as you please that is true. I did not say I would answer any.' They laughed again as Hammer fumed. He wasted valuable time and the hour glass had nearly emptied. He could think of nothing that fit. He had never heard of this type of question. It directly mentioned his people, naming them although perhaps this may merely be a ruse to interrupt his thinking. He felt beads of sweat begin to pool on his forehead and temples and he saw each of the sprites with a mischievous victory grin open in their white faces. That angered him more. If he lost he would explode on them in an instant and see if they could be hurt by sword and sledge. He knew inside himself however these creatures existed only partly of this world and they would destroy his people as they promised. The edges of panic began scratching at his belly and he could not see any way to answer the question.

'Time has passed and you need to answer without delay.'

A hush descended on the army as all the Aeserian eyes stared pleadingly at their leader.

Hammer stood and drew his sword and levelled it at an unmoving Fornestarlumbi. 'Here is my answer Sprite. The riddle talks of us choosing to cross a stream. It does not say we must cross it, so we choose not to cross it at all.'

The army went deathly quiet and one by one the sprites disappeared leaving only Fornestarlumbi shimmering in front of Hammer.

'You have done well Hammer of the Aeserians and we do not renege on agreements. When you need us call my name and we will be at your service. We will answer only once so choose the time wisely.' The leader of the Sprites disappeared and the army erupted into cheers and congratulations for Hammer who smiled in relief as his men patted his huge back. He gambled and won on intuition only. The riddle had an answer if it played by the conventions of the game. The problem is, sometimes the answer is well hidden. He was lucky this time and knew it well.

He accepted the congratulations quietly and with a superior arrogance his men wallowed in. They now knew their King could not be defeated by any creatures and their enthusiasm for Mesania increased.

Hammer drank their congratulations like wine. Another little step towards ultimate power he told himself as he moved through the bustling heads of his people.
The black mind of evil contends with the white

heart of truth. Who will prevail? Many wish evil

to be utterly destroyed but this would be folly.

What would be left to measure our goodness against?

Mayhap our good deeds will be evil and we would

never know the difference.

Jharnell 27/56-61
Chapter 10

The western edge of the Manna Sea butted up against an ancient shoreline scarred and bruised from innumerable wars, the memories of which were lost to both victors and vanquished alike. Thin stalks of grass maintained the fight against a scaldingly hot environment, the air beating down on a parched and barren soil of cracked brown earth. The sea washed against the white walls of rock bordering the land, carving long fingers of erosion along the miles of escarpment, making the land look like a wicked mouth of decaying teeth grinning across the oceans. Rain, wind and wave had beaten the land to a pulp and it waited patiently the thousands of years it would take nature to erase the violent history of the place before it could be reborn.

A thumping footstep shattered the ground at the lands end, sending a shower of debris falling hundreds of feet into the ocean below and a darkness descended over the shore blotting out the midday sun. The creature sniffed the air around it and beat its vast wings, creating a foul wind killing the stoic greenery completely leaving nothing else of this world alive.

The monster lifted itself off the ground with some more urgings from its black wings and drove towards the shoreline it knew existed across the sea. Behind it came its army. Thousands of Tusse, black goblins, flying on the backs of massive Aeponysis followed in its wake, prepared by the evil presence for many years for the Raqnarok, the Gathering of the Gods, signaling the final battle it knew instinctively it could not lose.

Hours passed and finally the last of the Aeponysis with its goblin passenger cleared the coastline, the land breathing a sigh of relief once the wickedness had passed its borders. In front of it, the final Tusse saw a black wave spill across the sky as far as it could see as thousands of its kind sped to a battle they had been granted life to participate in.
Darion sat on the farthest edge of the western side of Mesania, enjoying an uninterrupted view of the Ice Mountain and the surrounding terrain. He thought the view to be the most spectacular he had ever seen. He watched the sun rise over the vast plains to the far east of the mesa and today he thought he would watch it set behind the distant mountains, the entire sight beautiful as the colours and hues of the sky altered slightly every few seconds. Somewhere near him he could hear the soft echoes of gentle pipe music wafting in the air. He thought of looking for the source to see if it was Le Tare but decided not to interrupt the music which caressed the evening sky. Le Carra came up behind him and placed a thin blanket around his shoulders and hugged him gently.

'You seem preoccupied lately Darion. Is it the impending wedding or something else troubling you?'

He looked over his shoulder and felt the warmth of her smile and placed his hand on hers.

'No, nothing like that. It is just that I wonder what has become of my friend Isaac. I have been so absorbed in you and this marvelous place that sometimes I forget he could be in trouble and needs me or he is wandering lost around the countryside. I should be looking out for him because he has always looked out for me.' He kept searching the lands far below straining his eyes as if he expected to see Isaac strolling along one of the ribbon like roads miles below. The forest encircled the entire mesa and gave away no secrets and seemed impenetrable. Further still the land became a blur of colour as the plains stretched away to the west and the mountains loomed imperially. North he could see the shimmering of the volcanoes of the Muspellshiem and south he looked over a deep canyon and network of rivers running away to what he assumed must be a southern sea.

'Then let us be away my love,' said Le Carra. 'I cannot have a future husband of mine thinking of this Isaac and not our wedding day. I need your complete attention. Let us find your friend and then we can get married. I have been anticipating our wedding night for some time now and I am getting quite impatient.'

Again she gave Darion a mischievous smile making his entire head throb with embarrassment.

'Surely we can't just leave after all that has happened. Most of the arrangements have been made and the city is trying to undergo a major change to consultative and free governance. Don't you think they may need us?'

'I think they most definitely do not need us. They have been planning this for many years and I am sure they can do without two little people for a few weeks. Lets try and find your friend, you cannot rest until you do, you know this.'

'What about us?' said Darion staring into the deep wells of Le Carra's blue eyes.

'Your loyalty to Isaac is just one of the reasons I intend to marry you Darion. You love him and would not leave him and as he is your brother then so too is he mine. We will not stop until we find him and then we will marry. Understand?'

'It could take a long time,' said Darion lamely.

'We will be together for a long time Darion my sweetness. Whether it is here safely in Mesania or climbing the side of a lonely mountain or crossing angry seas makes no difference to me.'

He looked again at the soft face of Le Carra and saw a strength he had not noticed before. It held a regal determination and grace which silenced him momentarily. He knew she meant every word of what she just said and for her the marriage was a mere ceremony to satisfy others. Her commitment to a life together had already been made. He smiled and held her hand.

'Where will we start. I have no idea.'

'I think we should head south. It is safe to assume your friend is not within the confines of Mesania as recent events surely would have drawn him out.' said the familiar voice of Le Bow from somewhere just behind them. He had been eavesdropping on the conversation at his sister's request. She guessed rightly Darion felt restless to find his friend and she suggested perhaps now was a good time for her brother to begin the travelling he mused about for years and what better way than with them.

Darion turned with a start.

'What do you mean 'we', haven't you got some rebuilding to do?' asked Darion happily. He emotions moved from maudlin because he had abandoned Isaac, to relief Le Carra understood and wished to help, and now elation Le Bow might accompany them.

'I have become very attached to you Darion and I would permit you to be travel alone with a woman who is not your wife. It is very unseemly, so I will need to go as a type of guardian of Le Carra's virtue if you do not mind and if you do I will come anyway. Besides you still owe me some stories of your homeland and you can tell me over firelight.'

'You two are unbelievable,' said Darion in undisguised happiness. 'When can we start?'

'Well not just yet,' said Le Bow. 'We have to wait until tomorrow as Le Tare and Le Fidler will not be ready to travel until they have made some arrangements at home.'

Darion looked quizzically at Le Bow.

'Well, you see Le Tare said he thought he would come to keep an eye on me, who is keeping an eye on you and Le Fidler said he needed to keep and eye on Le Tare, who is keeping an eye on me, who is keeping an eye on you. He said we need to ensure the guards are always guarding the guards. It is the best way to keep everyone alive.'

Darion hugged Le Carra and Le Bow together.

'Let's find my friend. You will like him. He is very funny, although a bit of a ladies man Le Carra. I will have to beat him off you with a stick.'

'And is he as handsome as you my love?' asked Le Carra cheekily.

'Put it like this, the women back home fight among themselves to have his attention,'

said Darion.

'Then we must hurry,' she said. 'I would not want to rush into anything with you before I met this one.'

Darion's instant jealousy was obvious and she laughed to see it in his eyes.

'Are you so insecure my love?' she said.

'Yes,' said Darion sulkingly. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply and he forgot about Isaac and everything else for a time.

The next morning the five friends met in Le Bow's lodgings and rechecked their packs. Each carried small provisions of food, mainly salted meats and biscuits, to last them several days. They also each carried a long hunting knife, their battle swords, rope, a single blanket, leather water jerkin and two changes of clothes and Le Fidler charged with the portage of the cooking utensils.

Le Bow assured them from his studies he learned many small townships existed in the southern realm every twenty leagues or so until they reached the Silver Rapids and the famous Silver City and then the land became more sparse as they entered the trade routes leading to the Ran Sea and the Coomb Delta. They may need to fend for themselves when they reached these parts but this was still many days journey ahead of them. For the time being at least they headed for friendly lands with people familiar to the Mesanians.

'We will be able to ask questions of your friend's whereabouts all along the trade routes Darion, and if there is no rumour here then we can move further west and eventually along the coast and come back on the Ice Mountain from the west. It is a large circle and it includes most of the population of west Salnikov.'

Le Tare and Le Fidler were impressed.

'And how exactly do you know all of this when you have never once left the mountain? More likely you will lead us into the Great Canyon and we will never be heard of again,' said Le Tare.

'Unlike you Le Tare, I learned to read as a young man and have spent many cerebral hours studying the cartographers maps while you no doubt were idling on your saggy behind drinking mead wine.'

Le Bow slapped Le Tare disrespectfully on the rump with his open hand and nimbly dodged the returning backhand of the hero of the rebellion.

'I will have your behind if you lead us astray Le Bow,' said Le Tare rubbing his backside.

The others laughed as they left the room and were surprised to find the hall ways and alleys crammed with people wishing them good fortune, with some giving advice on the dangers ahead.

'The bears will run from fire,' said one older man with a long white beard plaited to his waist. 'That is of course assuming you have one lit when they come. If you don't then you may need to do so quickly or else run very fast to high ground while they eat one of you. At least the majority may survive.'

'And remember there are often Tusse hidden in the rocks, especially in the mountains. They will come at night and always attack the strongest first so as to weaken resistance quickly. Their swords are poisoned and wickedly sharp. You don't want to meet one of those. No sir they are bad, very bad indeed.'

The old man's voice trailed off as each of the companions looked worriedly at the others.

'What are these Tusse?' said Darion. 'I don't think I like the sound of them one bit.'

'They have never attacked the mountain and they are more like wild animals than anything Darion,' said Le Tare. 'We have had no trouble from them for many years. At one time they filled the southern lands. They live a subsistence lifestyle and make no settlements, rather raiding those that do. They are particularly cruel and slaughter anything in their path even burning crops they cannot eat.

The people of the southern lands drove the Tusse into the Niflheim an eon ago and they are only seldom seen today. Ignore the old man. He rambles.'

Darion was not so sure and he vowed to himself to remain extremely vigilant, especially with the added responsibility of a fiancé to look after.

They moved through the crowded mall and Darion marvelled at the maturity and logic of the people of Mesania. He well expected some kind of internal civil war now the blacks were de-powered but unlike what he knew would happen in his own world, these people calmly remained in their former positions confident the rebel leaders would direct them which way to go. They all continued in their daily routines, even the yellow and whites who had the most to gain from the disbanding of the segregation. They kept performing their lower level tasks as if their had never been a revolution. While some gladly threw off their amulets in many did not bother and were not particularly desirous of leaving their homes in favour of improved accommodations in the Upper Ships. They felt content in knowing the corruption and bigotry of the higher orders was over and they could get on with their lives. As Le Tare explained they have a great appreciation of society and each person's contribution. If they merely took a mob rule mentality then their social order would dissolve and they would be left with anarchy and all would loose. They therefore lived for collectiveness and that is why the seeress and the blacks so affronted them. Their every action assisted in destroying what the majority believed.

The mall throbbed with life as traders sold produce and people filled the shops and avenues. Even the traffic rules allowing the higher orders to pass the lower orders disappeared and still the people moved with respect for each other.

Darion re entered the canal he first emerged from and headed down past the entrance to the trophy room he remembered Le Bow saying had never been found. He opened his mouth to announce he had indeed found this hidden treasure when for some unexplained reasons he decided to keep the secret to himself. Something inside told him there may be some value in keeping a secret exit from the mainstream of the Mesanians. He still knew so little about these people and he may need a secret or two himself at some stage. When the time felt right he would take Le Carra there one night as a surprise and feign ignorance of the magnitude of his discovery if ever questioned.

They passed the site where he took the lamps from the wall and here they were again lit, he supposed the sergeant sent a delegation down to attend to it. They moved steadily and steeply downwards, walking for over an hour before the land began to flatten out. He could see a large set of doors set on huge hinges stretching ten times a man's height and stopping just under the ceiling.

Darion thought it curious the doors were still heavily guarded by black guards and he questioned Le Tare about it.

'Le Tare, what of these Black guards?'

The doors were flanked by guardhouses, each housing four of the black soldiers. Two moved to greet the troop while the others stood hands on the hilts of their swords battle ready.

'We have heard you were coming,' said the first guard as he extended an open hand to Le Tare who took over the mantle of leader of Mesania without discussion. 'We congratulate you on your victory and wish you luck on your crusade. We have heard nothing of this stranger Isaac, but we will stay alert.'

'Very good Keepers of the Gate your work is valued by us.'

Darion could see a type of ceremony in the speech of the two men and Le Bow leant close to his ear.

'You are wondering about these blacks Darion. It is a place of particular honour to guard the gates. Their amulets are black however their hearts are white. They are the most patriotic of all the Mesanians. They protect us from any outside invaders. These doors cannot be breached if guarded by stout hearts and are a strong buffer between the citizens and the menaces from the outside world. The guards stand apart from any political factions and are absolutely loyal to the people. Better guards you will never find.'

The blacks stood aside, each moving to opposite sides of the portal and simultaneously pulling identical levers attached to the guardhouses. The huge timber doors swung silently open revealing an avenue of giant fir trees wending their way down the remaining few hundred feet to the base of the mountain. The path was well tended with bright cobblestones shining in the morning sun.

The gates pointed south but the road soon forked with paths leading west and east as well as the south where they intended to travel. From the gates Darion could see the path disappear into the green of the forest on the horizon a good half a days march from the gates. He could also see evidence of crops and fields scattered in chaotic fashion across the plain.

'They farm and sell to the 'Stoners' as they call us. The people here would no sooner live in the mesa as we would choose to live down here with them. They provide us with a great deal of our agriculture. We have enormous stores of food stuffs in the granaries but as you would know from being a farmer yourself, there is nothing like fresh food.'

Darion had forgotten his farmer alter ego and hoped they would not meet any on the road who may be able to expose him as a fraud. He knew his friends would not care but it did not pay to be discovered as a liar. No sooner did the thought leave his mind when two men approached them and begun speaking to Le Tare.

'The road is clear friends,' said the older of the two whom Darion thought may be the father of the second. 'You may cross our lands without toll as we know of your journey and wish to assist the Rok of whom the Jharnell speaks.'

All eyes turned to Darion who shifted his toes in his shoes.

'You are from farming stock west of the Ice Mountain we hear. Tell us what the soil does so close to the evils encountered there.'

The others watched Darion who outwardly appeared calm but inwardly churned with unease. He did not know the first thing about crop types in this new world or much in his world either. Boldness had succeeded before and he would try again.

'Taros friend is what we specialise in. A tasty root crop,' he said confidently.

'We do not know this word. What are they?'

'Oh they are a wondrous vegetable, they can be skinned and boiled in water, they can be fried on a skillet or mashed with your milks. They can be shaped as you please and seasoned for taste and they can be grown in the barest of soil all year round.' Darion guessed there would be very little mobility in this world and just because they had not heard of something he hoped did not mean they thought it impossible.

'Wondrous indeed,' said the younger man. 'I would much like to see such a vegetable. I suppose they do not even need water such is their uniqueness.' The younger man laughed contemptuously at Darion and the others became annoyed at the disrespect. The older man just looked knowingly into Darion's eyes and moved closer so only Darion could hear, placing an arm loosely around his shoulders.

'Come and I will briefly show you some of our fields,' he said loud enough for the others to hear.

'There is no such root that you speak of master Darion,' he whispered. 'But that makes no never mind. Your business is your own and it is enough for me you have the trust of these people who are good and honest. My advice however, if you are interested, is to make up a less elaborate lie next time. The further you travel from here the more hostile people will become as their trust of strangers abates in the wild lands. Tell the next who makes enquiries you merely grow Verbena. It is a simple herb and grows anywhere and will cure most afflictions and is good to eat and will not arose suspicion. May luck travel with you, I suspect you will need it. Come Lo Muma my son,' he said much louder, 'we have kept these people long enough. They have a long journey to Silver City, the best part of a week and night comes quickly as the south catches you.' The two men turned and walked into their fields already discussing their crops and forgetting the troop.

'Rude brutes,' said Le Fidler, 'I had a mind to squeeze the little one's neck a little to learn him some manners.'

'The problem is Fiddy,' said Le Carra as she tightened her pack, 'we are now in their lands and not ours so we are the uninvited guests. I think we will see much more of this as they journey continues.'

Le Fidler looked at her respectfully and moved up next to Darion. 'You know myself and every other man in Mesania has been in love with her for many years don't you,' he said without malice.

'Yes well add my name to the list,' said Darion as Le Fidler jabbed him in the ribs with a knuckle chuckling.

They travelled for most of the day, stopping occasionally to have some food. Their pace slowed and they all enjoyed the feel of soil under their feet rather than the granite and sandstone they walked on for years. Le Bow in particular stopped to smell nearly every type of flower. Le Tare would often play his flutes which relaxed them all as they travelled. The soft music wafted gently around them making them all lightheaded and gay. Darion did not know the tunes, however they held a universal appeal as they naturally rose and fell to the rhythms of the land.

'Feel the grass under your feet. It is exquisite. It is like a soft down,' said Le Bow shuffling through a field of short blade grass with his shoes in one hand.

The rest of the group also took their shoes off and Darion marvelled at how such a simple experience could be so meaningful to these people who had been trapped for years in the servitude of the Lesser Ships. The way they stopped to investigate every portion of nature they encountered made him wonder if they would get very far at all.

They camped under the stars after a hot meal of re-heated meats and sausage and finished with a brew of Verbana leaves tasting to Darion like tea.

'This Verbana seems to have many purposes,' said Darion lazily.

'Does this not grow where you come from?' asked Le Tare. 'I thought it grew everywhere? But you must feed me some of these taros one day they sound intriguing.'

Darion did not answer and just hoped they found Isaac before they reached the lands where he said he came from, otherwise he would be in significant state of embarrassment and have to answer many uncomfortable questions.

The next morning dawned bright and clear with just a hint of chill coming from the south and they could clearly see the line of forest ahead of them. Behind them, the mesa stood stark and beautiful covering most of the northern horizon.

They broke camp and within an hour reached the threshold of the forest with very clear tracks leading straight ahead and under the eaves.

'We will soon see the Southern Sentinel,' said Le Bow. 'The tower watches the south and has been manned by our people for a hundreds of years. It supports a small community who live only to keep the southern routes free of vagabonds and Tusse. They treat this work very seriously and have likely spotted our entry into the forest edges already.'

From a distance the forest looked like a solid wall of similar type trees. As they entered however, they saw vast varieties of plants and trees growing in a thick canopy. Thick streaks of light penetrated the roof of the forest and lit a ground covered in wet and decaying forest litter. For Darion, he entered what he would call a rain forest. He thought the climate too mild for such vegetation to exist however the many vines and parasites, thick broad leafed trees and a floor filled with decomposing leaves and other litter made this rain forest a replica of the ones he knew back home. Plentiful wildlife gamboled through the trees and small gnats began busying themselves with a meal of his arm. The rest of the troop also suffered and the further they travelled the worse the gnats became until they could go no further.

Le Bow broke a branch of a low lying scrub and began squashing the leaves until the resin drenched his hands. He rubbed it onto his skin and immediately the gnats left him alone.

'Here use this,' he said as the others copied him and soon they could all move freely again.

'Let me guess,' said Darion. 'This is Verbana also, correct?'

'Indeed,' replied Le Bow as he walked alone with Darion. 'I heard what the farmer said to you back there and thought I would give it a try. It certainly is a cure all.'

'Then you heard all he said?' asked Darion nervously.

'I did,' said Le Bow. 'I ask for no explanations brother Darion. Your loyalty is without question and I know you will tell me your secrets when you are ready.'

At that moment Darion felt like telling Le Bow and everyone else everything. Part of him refused to trust completely and he still felt unsure of what their reaction would be to a man from another world. He resolved to share with Le Carra first and then tell the troop the truth and nothing but the truth. After all, the worst that could happen would be the woman he loved could leave him and the rest may think him a lunatic or at the very least they might abandon him in these wilder lands and he would be at the mercy of the elements without any idea of where he was. He realised his reluctance to share his true history stemmed from his selfishness and fears rather than any mistrust of these good people.

The Sentinel rose out of the forest in front of them with the greater portion poking out of the canopy well above the trees above. Its smooth and even spike shape had ledges and windows across its top third. Darion noticed settlements all around it, some hidden in the trees off the road and others on the path like the main street of any normal town. However unlike other towns he knew, this one formed part of the forest rather than being apart from it. The road seemed to simply continue through and past the habitats. Few people frequented the road and their arrival did not seem to stir a great deal of reaction among the few residents they did see.

'Evidently it is the ones who travel to Mesania they are interested in, not people going the other way,' observed Le Bow as they looked for somewhere to spend the night.

The tree cover caused the air to be cooler here and they began searching for a vacant boarding house, if one existed, where they could spend the night as they guessed it would become quite cold sleeping out of doors.

They could smell the tavern and the stale ale rather than see it and after a few minutes they spotted a friendly yellow light coming out of a green two story building. A few men sat outside sipping on tankards of what Darion guessed must be ale or wine.

The keeper of the house brought them inside and showed them some rooms which Le Fidler dismissed immediately and insisted on the prime suites.

'These are the best we have,' said the taverner. 'You are lucky to have these as we have a troop heading to Mesania to greet the new leaders up there. Sixty-five tannarts of silver they will cost you but maybe less if you can give me some news of Mesania. We have heard some brief news here of events in the mountain. We hear the Seeress was killed and a hero of the rebellion struck her down with the sword of Li Chi and her cuts bled black.'

'Don't believe everything you hear, fellow, her blood was as red as yours,' said Le Fidler with a hint of threat in his voice. 'It was her mind which was the danger and we made sure it went with her head when we severed it. Now how about we discuss those rooms eh.'

The taverner looked with wide eyed wonder at the troop. From what the stranger said, these people were directly involved in the coup and as such he certainly did not want trouble. 'I can maybe give you the last two of the better rooms I have. It will unfortunately cost you double as I have others I will have to evict.'

'Nonsense,' said Le Fidler. 'We will pay you forty tannarts and that is for the good rooms and not the hay barns. Here is the money and show me where the rooms are and I will do the evictions for you if you like.'

'No, No,' said the now terrified taverner. 'I will attend to it directly.'

'Please I insist,' said Le Fidler. 'That is of course if there are tenants to evict and you are not just saying this so as to raise the price of these modest accommodations. Now you wouldn't do that to me would you.' He gave the taverner an evil grin which sent the man into a wobble.

'Please sir I am a simple hotelier just trying to make a living.'

'Well make it with someone else, I give you a fair price and now show me the rooms this instant.' The taverner shook noticeably, stammering and stuttering all the way to the top floor where he offered the group two very sizable comfortable quarters and apologies by the handful as he left.

Le Carra gave Le Fidler a disapproving look. 'You didn't have to be so mean to him Fiddy, he was only trying to .....'

'Cheat us.' Interupted Le Fidler. 'Yes, that is what he intended Le Carra. You are a nice girl but I am afraid you have to stop this annoying habit of trying to find the good in everyone. He tried to cheat us and in return he got cheated. That is the right order of life.'

Le Fidler looked very satisfied with his efforts and he sank into a large lounge chair and began nibbling on a biscuit.

'Well, we best organise the sleeping arrangements,' said Le Carra. 'Darion and I in one room and the rest of you in the other.'

'Not very likely sister,' replied Le Bow instantly. 'There is a little thing called a marriage before we start any of those shenanigans. You and I will share a room and the rest will sleep together.'

Le Carra blew a kiss at Darion who blushed bright red. 'Don't worry my love soon we will be aloner.'

The others smiled at Darion's embarrassment while Le Bow ushered Le Carra ahead past a snickering Le Tare. 'Meet you down stairs for some hot food and we will discuss the morrow.'

They all bathed and later met in the lounge area of the tavern which quickly filled with people talking quietly amongst the clatter of plates and tankards.

The food tasted better than they expected and Le Fidler believed the owner tried to over compensate for the earlier incident, in the hope he may avoid future trouble. They asked all the patrons whether they had seen any strangers named Isaac. Most looked at them blankly and the rest only replied in curt phrases.

'Silver City seems our best bet,' said Le Bow. 'It is the end of the trade routes from the south and is the largest city outside Mesania in the south west. If he has been down there someone in Silver City would know.'

With no better ideas the group agreed to leave at first light. The many revellers at the inn gave them varied advice on which way to travel. Some suggested they leave the forest and head to the main southern road and come to Silver City from the west and others said they should take the more direct route directly south and skirt the great canyon and past the Silver Rapids and across the Land Bridge. This appeared the more perilous of the two paths because many considered the lands around the canyon to be still quite wild. The latter route seemed the quicker and they chose that one, not wanting their journey to be any longer than it needed to be.

They woke just before dawn and broke their fast quietly and headed out to the south of the forest. The cold air made their breath a cloud of white steam and the leaves on the evergreens dripped with cool dew. They travelled easy and after an hour emerged from the forest on the south side of the official realm of Mesania.

Le Bow stood next to Darion, a huge smile on his face, 'I have read and studied the lands around me for years and now I am finally going to see them. It was a happy day our paths crossed Darion.' They were slightly elevated and could see grassy plains around them with the dark patch of horizon they guessed must be the canyon.

'You can not even see to the bottom of the canyon such is its enormity,' continued Le Bow. 'It has never been explored fully, only the edges. I suppose no one thinks it a worthy pursuit. I for one would like to see what is at its centre. If we walk solidly we could reach it by nightfall.'

The travellers talked lightly amongst themselves for most of the day and the land drifted by them being neither threatening nor harsh. Darion looked absently at the vast acres of grass.

'You could run a few hundred thousand head of Merino here no worries and they would still have plenty of room,' he said absently.

'What are these Merino you speak of?' asked Le Tare.

Darion thought quickly. 'They are animals we breed for meat and their furs. We keep them and fatten them for years and then slaughter them for the table and use their furs for clothing.'

The others looked at him in shock, even Le Carra not believing what she just said.

'How barbaric,' said Le Tare. 'These poor creatures are bred and live for the sole purpose of dying, I think I do not like your society Darion.'

Darion found himself a trifle annoyed and needed to defend himself. 'And how then do you provide the meats I have eaten in the last few weeks, do they jump onto your cook's cleavers when they feel like it?' he asked roughly.

'The animals we catch run wild in the fields Darion. They live their lives free from shackles and we will capture them for their meat only when they stray among us. If none stray then we do not eat meat. They are also quite vicious, so we are also protecting our borders and at the same time feed our people. We do not enslave creatures, even ones who mean us harm.'

'Well I think it is a semantic argument,' said Darion. 'We choose not to chase the prey and rather grow it like Verbana.' As he said the words he felt the falseness in them. It did seem barbaric they would treat other creatures with such dismissiveness and did show his people to be selfish and brutal. 'But I have to admit your policy is superior to ours and if I ever return home I will suggest to the village we try a similar strategy.' He felt he saved some face even though the others still looked at him as if he had just farted at the dinner table.

He kept quite from then on and only spoke when spoken to, not out of churlishness rather out of protection. He could easily reveal his true self from careless words and he needed to train himself to be more careful.

The countryside brushed passed them quickly and the brown stain on the horizon became more stark and they would reach it by the next morning. They slept and sponge bathed themselves in a shallow creek of water at the request of Le Carra who told them she thought they smelled quite awful from the trip and even though she loved each and every one of them they were becoming quite repugnant. Darion washed first as she refused to kiss him until he did and he thought that too great a penalty for any man to suffer.

The next morning, the second since they left the confines of the forest, they reached the edge of the Great Canyon. Each of the group stood in awe of the site before them. As far as the eye could see south, the land seemed to have been scooped out by a giant shovel, leaving a vast hole. Darion could not see evidence of a river having carved this canyon so he could only guess it was a legacy from the original forming of the land millions of years ago. He had seen the Grand Canyon in his own world and this dwarfed it ten times over. He peered carefully over the cliff's edge and the canyon disappeared into darkness miles below, even with the full sun lighting the whole area. He picked up a large rock and hurled it into the gap and they all waited to hear it land but after a few minutes no sound returned to testify the canyon even had a bottom.

Before anyone could make a comment on the wonder in front of them they all felt a powerful rumbling shaking their feet and the tiny pebbles on the ground began bouncing like raindrops all around them.

'Quick, a land quake,' cried Le Tare scrambling back from the edge. The others followed him and they found themselves running at full pace away from the brink of the canyon. Behind them Darion could see a large line of cliff crack and then disappear into the abyss. A second line appeared closer to their retreating feet and again the land groaned and another portion of land crumpled into the canyon a cloud of brown dust flying into the air, the wind carrying it towards their backs.

They had no time to think and reacted intuitively, trying to flee the scene as fast as they could. Darion subconsciously grabbed the hand of Le Carra dragging her along with him and a few feet behind followed Le Fidler.

He knew Le Fidler was far stronger and fitter than him and could pass him in a second and realised he took last position intentionally to ensure no-one fell behind.

As they all looked towards the forest, they saw about a hundred yards ahead of them, an enormous fissure appear stretching both north and south hundreds of feet. Instinctively they knew what would happen and they bunched together gripping onto each other for protection when suddenly the land underneath them disappeared and they fell at a terrific rate, the dust and dirt making it impossible to see anything clearly.

They steeled themselves for the inevitable crash and either pain or death and as they continued to fall through the dust, the noise of clashing rocks drowning their screams.

Darion gripped Le Carra's arm in a vice like hold, and she in turn held Le Bow. The whole group linked with each other like a chain with none knowing all the others were nearby. They fell at the same pace as the rest of the debris and so avoided the expected collisions of rocks and stones and they felt weightless as they careered towards the bottom of the world.

Darion noticed his leg brush a large rock only inches below him. As he looked through the clearing dust, he could see the others vaguely in the dim light and he realised they were all cramped onto a rock shelf falling with them. Suddenly they felt a heavy bump and fell into each other and onto the rock. The fissure sloped at an angle and rather than fall they began skidding down the sides breaking their fall and lessening their speed. The rock shook and occasionally jumped but it was akin to skiing down a snowy slope.

Darion had seen cargo ships being loaded with grain and the grain would hit the top of the large pile and slide down the sides eventually spewing out of the bottom thereby widening the base and it seemed this is what happened to them. They slid down along with the dust and rocks and now began slowing down.

They fell or slid for another few minutes and then came to a slow halt the rock resting softly against the side of another cliff face, this time thousands of feet below the original surface as grit and dirt rained down on them.

The friends ensured they all had survived and without speaking began moving away from their rocky ship as more and more debris fell around them. The ground under their feet was a talc of pulverised rock and they struggled to find sure footings as they tried escape the tons of dirt and fragments falling around them. It became more and more difficult to breath or see among the carnage when they glimpsed an opening ahead of them. They slipped and slid to the breach in the rocks, ducking through the opening and finding themselves in a huge underground cave dripping with water and a steady stream running through its centre, a dim light coming from both the opening the escaped from and random streaks beaming down from fissures in the roof.

They took some minutes to cough the remaining rubbish from their lungs and rushed to the water's edge to clear their throats, washing the dust from the faces and hair when Le Bow finally found the strength to speak.

'I would think we should consider ourselves a trifle fortunate,' he said redundantly.

'Oh do you really think so?' snarled Le Tare. 'We are alive that is certain and we are also a thousand feet underground without any food or provisions. I have lost every inch of skin from my buttocks and we have no idea where we are. Aside from that, then yes I am almost joyous to be here.'

Darion choked out a smile. 'Where there is a will there is a way as my people always say and we have a stream we can follow that may lead us outside. I know a little bit about caves, not necessarily a lot about subterranean caves, however I do know a river has a source and a finish so at least we have a path to follow.'

'Do you think you will get sick of him always thinking he is right sister?' asked Le Bow.

She smiled and her crystal teeth shone in the darkness. 'Well I never tire of you thinking you are right all the time, do I dear?'

Le Bow caught his sister's hand and pulled her to him and tickled her under her ribs when she let out a cry of pain. Le Bow instantly released his grip and forced her to the ground where he began searching her side for injury. He found bruising already beginning to blacken and his every poke and prod brought a gingerly reply from his sister. Darion also had a concerned look on his face as he helped Le Bow place a wet rag over her wounds to cool them. 'Rest little sister while we try to think of something.'

Le Carra collapsed as waves of pain began drenching her, with every breath or movement shooting agony up her side and deep into her chest cavity. Le Fidler and Le Tare stood over her as if she was a treasure about to be ravaged by bandits their faces grim as Le Bow walked some way away with Darion.

'She has a broken rib Darion, I do not think she will travel well.'

'Yes I think you are right. We have to make sure she has not pierced a lung Le Bow. Is she breathing easily? If her lungs collapse then she is in trouble. You're right though, we have to get her somewhere safe and she can't walk, so we will have to carry her for as long as it takes.'

'Well of course we will carry her.' Said Le Bow roughly. 'The problem is we also have a river to cross and rocks to climb, it will be a difficult task.'

Darion looked around him and he could not see anyway they could make a litter or a sled. They needed to stabilise her until they could examine her properly and the land around them shook with secondary tremors and aftershocks. The sedimentary rock they rested on had no sign of vegetation or anywhere they could place Le Carra in safety. He walked a few feet down stream and saw what he thought looked like a naturally forming cove which might offer them at least some protection from the dust and fumes pumping out of the breach in the wall they exited from.

'Bring her down here and for gods sake be gentle,' ordered Darion as the others obeyed immediately. They were soldiers and whenever a superior gave an order they immediately reacted and here they all gave Darion the respect of a leader.

Le Tare and Le Fidler raised her with gentle callused hands and she barely felt their powerful arms as they carted her towards the inlet. The floor of coarse sand, looked to be the residue of an ancient ocean and was clean and sturdy.

They shed whatever clothes they could spare and sat bare chested around Le Carra whose breathing became more laboured each minute. They could barley hear her when she tried to speak.

Darion bent over with a worried expression and she grabbed his hand tightly. 'Don't look at me so Darion, I am not going to release you from your marriage pledge by dying. You still owe me a honeymoon.' She smiled and then erupted into a coughing fit where she spat out a mouthful of blood. Her skin changed to a pallid grey and her breaths came in rapid tiny spurts. He felt her pulse and it was racing dangerously.

Darion felt panic rising in him. He needed to concentrate to have any chance of saving her life. 'What do you people know about first aid and medicine?' he asked.

'We do not know this 'first aid' of which you speak but we do have some skills in understanding the physiology,' said Le Tare, 'more so from the injuries to limbs and not these internal ones.'

Darion took a deep breath, 'We don't have a lot of time and we need to work together. It isn't going to be easy. We are going to have to try and straighten her rib. I'm not sure but I think if the rib punctured her lung deeply then she would probably be dead already so I am wagering it has only pricked the lining. I think only one of her lungs is working and the other has collapsed which means we have to try and re-inflate it and hope it does not fill with blood.'

The rest looked at him as if he spoke another language and he did not have time to give detailed explanations. He had to make them understand. If they was going to convince them to help they needed to know what he proposed and especially so with Le Bow.

'Listen. Your lungs are like two big cushions that fill with air each time you breath. One of Le Carra's has emptied of air and we need to refill it or she will suffocate. First we need to make sure her rib is not sticking into it. The problem is air is escaping from her lungs and is sitting in her chest cavity which is making it impossible for the lung to re-inflate properly and each breath is making it worse. We need to insert a tube into her chest and let the air escape and then the lung will re inflate. Men we need to do something now or she will die.' The men seemed to be in a trance of denial and now snapped into action.

'Darion, you love her like we do and it is obvious she is deathly ill. We will trust you know what you are doing. Direct us.'

'Empty your pockets over there in a pile and lets see what we have. The men dropped knives, short swords, long swords, tinder boxes, rags, some coins more knives, water skins and some small coils of rope. Curiously Le Fidler appeared to have many items from the tavern a few nights before including some wallets. He also saved some items that were previously the property of Le Tare, particularly a hand carved short sword with a long wooden handle.

'I've been looking for that you thief,' he said.

'Now is not the time,' said Le Fidler. 'I will gladly discuss it after we save Le Carra.'

Darion noticed how confidently Le Fidler spoke and he was it gave him strength. They handed him permission to do whatever he saw as necessary to save her. He didn't tell the others but he felt only semi confident he knew what to do. Another fit of coughing from Le Carra spurned him into action.

'Quickly, take the pot and find anything that will burn and boil some water.' Le Fidler used the tinder box and some clothes, as well as the handles of all the knives including Le Tare's small sword and quickly made a small fire, the water reached the boil rapidly.. Darion placed a knife in the water and another in the centre of the fire.

He would try and straighten the bone and cauterise the wound internally and hopefully stop any leaking in and out of the lung. He knew some medical procedures, although not much more than first aid courses, however he remembered clearly what happens when a lung collapses. He saw his father die from the same thing, and watched as the paramedics tried to save him. He died in front of him, the wreckage of their car all around them. The smell of tyres and fuel still haunted his sleep. He was determined this would not happen here. He would save Le Carra. The facts of her circumstances were quite simple. If he left Le Carra alone then she would most certainly die before their eyes and he could not allow it.

He found a skin of water and emptied it and then blew in it like a balloon and then resealed the lid creating a cushion of air.

The others looked on concerned and Le Bow's hand shook as he took Darion's. Darion placed a hand on his.

'I don't know if I can help Le Bow but I will do everything I can to save her. You know I would never hurt her?'

'Of course I know this Darion. It is just I do not find it easy trusting someone else with her life when it has been my responsibility. Just be mindful of this, cure her immediate ills and she will recover quickly. She is made of very strong stuff Darion and her recuperative powers are second to none.'

Darion heard what Le Bow said and Le Carra definitely looked as fit a specimen of womanhood as he had ever seen, however this wound required a long recovery period as most life threatening conditions do, and no amount of positive thinking would make this an easy task.

He moved to Le Carra who drifted in and out of consciousness and she gave him a trusting smile before she again fell unconscious. Darion directed the men to hold her very still and firmly and they obeyed, each gently taking a limb, placing large hands over her hips and upper body.

He removed her shirt and followed the trace of her rib which he now saw bent inwards noticeably but did not look broken. There may only be some cartilage damage he thought. He could find no external bleeding from the injury however the blood she coughed up was enough to convince Darion she suffered some internal damage and very likely from the lung.

The others looked on, worry etched on their faces as Darion continued his examination. From what he could see, there didn't appear to be any other injuries and he knew he had to move quickly while she remained unconscious. A loud explosion behind him caused a jet of rocks and dirt to shoot out of the breach in the cavern as more of the unstable canyon sides collapsed.

'Be quick brother Darion,' said Le Bow. 'We must away from here.'

Darion reached along the fault line of Le Carra's rib cage and thought he could see exactly where the rib bent. He knew from experience ribs could rarely be mended other than by time and pressure bandages and in Le Carra's case, the ribs needed to be pulled and straightened and then and an incision made so he could try and let the air around the lung escape. At best it would be difficult and dangerous to interfere with the fragile lining of the lung itself.

He told the men to give him one of the knives from the pot and without hesitating he made a small incision allowing him to reach under with the point. To his amazement the rib seemed to pop out and back in its rightful place like a stretched elastic band when released and immediately Le Carra seemed to relax slightly in her sleep.

Darion searched all of the provisions and he could see nothing resembling a tube. He remembered the type of society he was in and the technology required for a plastic tube simply did not exist. It struck him like a lightning bolt. 'Le Tare your pipes quickly give them to me.'

Without hesitation Le tare handed his pipes to Darion who began pulling them apart. He had really looked at them closely before now he saw their beautiful craftsmanship, expertly shaped of blown glass, each embossed with crystals telling the story of the artisan's life. The largest of the pipes looked no greater in diameter than a pencil and the smallest as thin as a needle. He broke the silver threads binding the pipes together much to the brief discomfort on Le Tare's face, and quickly washed it in the boiling water. Darion inspected the pipe and felt certain any germs were dead and he could not spare any more time on hygiene.

The men surrounded Darion as he felt around the chest of Le Carra until his hands came to rest a few inches below her breasts. He worked his fingers down around her rib cage until they found the soft tissue on the lateral of her chest.

With a deep breath he slowly punctured Le Carra's skin with the knife and slid the pipe into her side careful not to drill too deeply unless he inflicted more damage. Le Carra stirred briefly then quickly dropped into unconsciousness again. Darion carefully held the needle. He knew his chances of success were slim at best as he his diagnosis could only be described as a guess. Even if he judged correctly he possessed little hands on medical experience and he could right now be killing one of only two people in the world he knew he loved. He listened carefully to Le Carra's chest and could still hear a gurgling of wind and blood churning like indigestion. He pushed again on the pipe and it disappeared further into her body, and stopped to listen again. He jiggled the end of the pipe as it met a rubbery resistance which he assumed to be the lung. He knew the air would pool on the outside of the lung in the chest cavity so he withdrew the pipe slightly and he could hear a definite gush of wind shoot up through the pipe and out of her chest.

He placed his ear again to Le Carra's chest and the gurgling of fluid abated and indeed she seemed to be breathing more freely than before. The others too noticed a difference and they slapped Darion on the back in relief.

'It is not over yet,' he said. 'We need to get her somewhere where we can rest and make sure her wounds heal properly.'

Darion barely ceased speaking when another geyser of dust exploded out of the hole and blew towards them.

Le Fidler had slipped away when Darion started the operation and now popped his head over some rocks a little way ahead from the group.

'Come quickly I have made a small raft that should at the very least cart us downstream and away from here.'

They bandaged the incision and carried Le Carra gently around the next bend in the cave where they found a small and well constructed raft made out of the flotsam of timber and vines Le Fidler scrounged from the millions of tons of debris lying throughout the tunnel.

He looked very proud of himself as he motioned for them to board the vessel.

'Take that smug look off your face Le Fidler,' said Le Tare. 'if this sinks I will carve my name in your ass.'

'You can't do that, remember, we burnt your knife.' Le Tare took a halfhearted swipe at Le Fidler's face which was easily avoided and the troop climbed onto the raft lying Le Carra across its breadth and covering her with their shirts. They pushed off and headed to the centre of the stream only moments before another rush of dust and dirt rushed from the hole, blasting the side out of the cave and spraying the stream with rocks.

They all used their hands and some pieces of log to gain speed and soon moved away from the immediate danger. Darion moved closer to Le Carra and held her hand softly and to his surprise she lifted her head and smiled at him.

'Lie down you will do more damage,' said Darion.

'I will be fine my love, I feel better already.'

Darion could not believe his eyes when she sat upright and held her side lightly, taking a big breath and stretching her long elegant arms above her head as if in a morning stretch.

'I'm hungry,' she said. 'When do you men think we will find a nice tavern to eat and sleep in.'

Le Tare, Le Bow and Le Fidler smiled at each other while Darion sat with his mouth open, not sure what to think. Only minutes before Le Carra was barely alive and now she sat in front of him smiling and evidently fully recovered. He lifted her shirt slightly so he could see her wound.

'Now Darion, don't you think we should wait until we find a more private place?' she said.

Darion let go of her shirt muttering something about just checking the injury as the others laughed freely until he sheepishly sat back and stared at them all incredulously.

'I am sorry, you can laugh at me all you want but where I am from they would call this a miracle, something that defys the natural laws of nature.'

Darion saw Le Carra's wound which was now healed with little evidence she had ever been hurt at all. It looked to Darion like the months required to mend her passed in seconds. He needed to know more.

'And from where we stand Darion, you have just witnessed one of the great secrets of the inner circle of the rebellion. I have not mentioned it before, as to be quite honest with you, the thought never occurred to me. What Le Carra has just done is what makes her the most precious of the gems of our realm.'

'What have I seen?' said Darion. 'I am still not quite sure.' Le Carra took his hand and stroked it softly.

'Do not be afraid Darion, I do not know exactly what my power is myself. Long ago I learned there was something different about my metabolism. I would fall as a child and my cuts and bruises would disappear within minutes. I would never catch the colds and other ailments of my kin. My skin stayed clear while those adolescents around me had red and raised faces. On one occasion however I stumbled and fell rather heavily and the injuries were severe. Le Bow and others of my family laid me out to die as none knew the skills required to stem the bleeding. I was going to die like all others would when an old maid from the White order heard what happened and attended me. Through some skills that must have long since vanished she managed to clot the bleeding and then my special gifts finished the healing job in front of many of our kin.

Some claimed it the work of Sprites and others thanked the gods they idolise I had been granted a second chance. I can die Darion and I age as do others. Minor afflictions however pass me by and if the condition that is life threatening is removed then I can survive most things. You saved my life, be certain of that, for I was leaving this world before you lay your hand upon me.'

She leaned over a dizzy Darion and kissed his lips long and softly until he felt he lived in his own dream.

'The secret stayed with us Darion for to have the world in general know of this gift risked outright war with the Black,' said Le Bow.

Darion still had a blank look on his face when Le Bow continued. 'I forget you come from rube stock. You do not know the significance of the story I fear. Darion the skills Le Carra possesses are not unique or unheard of. All who are direct descendants from the royal line have this gift.'

Darion's eyes widened. 'You are royalty,' he stated. 'But I thought there was no titular head of your people as all from that line perished on the trek across the island?'

'We too thought that,' said Le Tare. 'But the evidence is unquestionable. We do not know how but your future wife here is the queen of our people.'

'Then why not simply announce it so everyone can know?'

'He is very tired,' said Le Fidler. 'I am sure if he gave the question a bit more thought he would understand why now is not the best of times.'

'I would think this would be perfect, she could be the rightful heir and lead your people in the rebuilding of their culture.' Said Darion

'Yes, I agree with you Le Fidler," said Le Tare. 'It has been very hectic time lately and I don't think our Darion here is completely awake.'

Darion felt angry again. These people sure knew how to frustrate him. 'Well pardon my ignorance but enlighten me. Why can't we tell.'

'Allow me,' said Le Fidler to the others with a broad stroke of his hand as they prepared to talk all at once. 'The rebellion is not merely a group of disgruntled vassals. We have some of the greatest minds on the island available to us. Some experts in interpretation of the Jharnell, scholars and artisans from across Mesania and often we debated what to do if we won.'

Le Fidler leant back on of the packs he salvaged and wistfully looked up at the cavern roof drifting by in the twilight of the cavern random hints of light . 'There was sufficient evidence and argument to suggest when the current order was extinguished then there would be a battle for control of the vacant power at some point. Right now the rebels are establishing their leadership through consultation and there is no guarantee the other orders, such as the purple and blue, may not vie for power. Le Bow has often repeated to us your thoughts on government and they are not dissimilar to some of our own. We need a consultative government of representatives from all the Ships. That makes good sense however some do not think this way. By announcing the existence of an heir to the ancient throne we are only inviting assassination and I think you agree we do not want Le Carra to be in that position. Let our people do their work with the interim government and slowly leak to the general populace their may be some of the ancient royalty still alive and the people will crave this to be so. It is then we present Le Carra and thereby make the transition easier.

There is also a little matter of proof and how do you think that is obtained Darion? The same skills you just marvelled at would be demanded and would require Le Carra to be intentionally injured and witnesses to see her body remake itself to prove her authenticity. I do not want to see her hurt?'

'And yet I will willingly do so,' said Le Carra. 'When the time is right, I will succumb to the test to show my worthiness.'

Darion agreed with them entirely. He could not stand by and let anyone hurt Le Carra whether the realm depended upon it or not. 'But what of Le Bow is he then a prince?'

Le Fidler burst out laughing. 'I don't think so, lets cut him open and see if he heals.'

Le Bow stared daggers at Le Fidler. 'I am not royalty Darion. Le Carra is not a blood relative of mine but is more sister to me than any true sibling. We grew up together and when the time was deemed right we were told of her secret. She is still the most important person in the world to me and my father called her daughter and she is more so than any who is naturally born of a parent.'

Le Carra smiled softly at her brother and took his hand. The raft travelled silently with the flow of the stream for two days. The group nibbled on some of the surviving provisions and they all recovered their strength.

On the second day the walls of the cavern became smooth and dripped with water. Shiny moss covered the roof and issued an iridescent glow, overwhelming the glimpses of white light they navigated by coming from fractures in the cavern roof. The moss shone with a dull green giving the cavern a forest like appearance. The roof slowly closed in on them the further they sailed, the wide stream also becoming narrower and faster. Within minutes they could touch the roof just above their heads. Although the cavern became smaller, the volume of water did not change and it now sped through the thinner openings in the rocks with spray and white water appearing as they sped over submerged rocks.

Le Bow looked nervously at the rest. 'I don't like the feel of this one little bit. Those rocks will smash us to bits.' The raft drifted at the mercy of the surges of the stream as it gained speed and rebounded off the walls. The shoreline disappeared and the rock walls butted against the line of the river giving them no place they could alight. They bounced across the top of the raft and held each other tightly so they would not fall in the growing white water.

Darion had once been white water rafting and remembered what he was told about the currents.

'Quickly, we need to move faster than the water or we will lose control grab anything and start paddling.' The troop including Le Carra took spare clothes, pieces of drift wood and their hands and did as Darion asked. At first their efforts made little difference so they paddled harder until they moved faster than the current. Darion placed himself at the rear of the raft and used the makeshift rudder Le Fidler had fashioned to steer the raft to the centre of the stream where he rationalised the water should be slightly deeper and have less rocks.

They made good progress however all of them were tiring and they needed to find somewhere to rest. The stream narrowed further and they could almost touch the walls as they flew across the top of the water. A bright white light ahead filled the entire cavern and within seconds they spewed out of the cavern and into daylight, flying through the air, the stream becoming a large waterfall dropping perilously into a deep blue pool of water.

The five bodies lifted free of the raft as they fell, their arms and legs flailing in the air until each landed hard in the water, lucky the raft did not hit any of them as it smashed into the surface.

White water and spray filled the air and the deafening sound of the water crashing around them made it impossible to either see or communicate. Eventually the current pushed them all to the eastern side of the new stream and one by one they dragged themselves to the bank, pulling themselves ashore. Breathlessly they sat up and checked they were unharmed and relaxed as the cool midday sun warmed their bodies. Le Fidler stirred first and he looked over his shoulder and began to laugh out loud. Long spires of silver stretched towards the sky a few thousand feet from where he sat as the buildings of the trade centre of Silver City shined across the stream.

'Here we are just as I thought,' he bragged before he felt the cold claw of Le Tare's palm slap across the back of his head.

'That's for my knife,' he said as he lifted himself off the ground and surveyed the city in front of him. From what they had heard of Silver City it gained its name from the way its buildings were constructed and now he could see why. They were almost exclusively made of glass reflecting the sparkles of the waterfalls and rapids appearing to drive straight through the city. Each side of each structure reflected light, making it quite difficult to see if one looked straight. Some of the light filtered through prisms making rainbows all over the city. The noises of falling water also filled the air. It was the busiest place any of them had ever seen and it had nothing to do with the people.

They did their best to clean the mud and filth off their clothes to look a little bit respectable before they entered the city. Darion noticed only Le Carra looked the same, as if the slight flaws in her clothing accentuated her natural beauty, not to mention the wet cloths clinging suggestively to her body. She noticed Darion looking and could not help herself as she sidled up close to him.

'Oh Darion, I am afraid my hair is a mess,' she said as she ran her fingers through it. 'And my clothes may never be the same,' she continued drawing her palms down over her curvaceous waist and looking at him under smoking eyes.

Darion tried to speak could only muster pitiful murmurs as she held onto his hands. He noticed she seemed to enjoy his discomfort.

'Please sister,' said Le Bow, 'we need Darion's skills in communication and if you keep teasing him like this he may never speak again.'

The men chuckled and winked to each other although they too noticed Le Carra's charms.

The city loomed in front of them, its glass walls as high as the trees of the Mesanian forest. Through the walls they could see the streetscape. Two large gates standing open provided the only obvious entrance along a wall encompassing the entire city. Traders lined the streets and cattle roamed freely and as Darion noticed, un-tethered not unlike how the Mesanians treated their beasts. Outside the gates, a gathering of people, mostly children, huddled around a group of adults who launched huge kites into the air, each having a tail of bright glass reflecting the sun light in thousands of directions making them look like millions of fire flies at dusk.

The kites would dive and dart at each other trying as Darion could understand it, to cut the tail of the others and send them crashing to the ground. When one succeeded and another fell the children would rush to recover the glass from the tail and hide them away in their pockets as trinkets and return to the rest to see if they could collect more. A kite landed near Darion and he walked over to the tail before any others and he gasped in surprise. He examined one of the rocks and felt sure the stones were diamonds. Their texture, hardness and weight meant they could be nothing else and he marvelled at the prosperity of such a region where diamonds could be treated so frivolously.

'Do you know what these stones are?' he asked Le Tare.

'Of course,' he replied. 'They are very pretty but an extremely common stone found in this part of Salnikov. They are called Carbelinite and children like to make necklaces and bracelets out of them. Don't you have these in your country?'

'We have them Le Tare. At home they are enormously valuable and extremely difficult to find. You would be a rich man indeed if you had a few dozen of these in your possession.'

'Well feel free,' said Le Tare. 'They are plentiful here and none would miss them.'

Darion bent down and fingered two diamonds as big as his thumb and turned them over in his hand. There was enough wealth in these two stones alone to ensure he never worked again and literally hundreds covered the ground around him. Suddenly he could hear the words of his mother in her usual position in front of their kitchen sink. 'What is the point of getting something for nothing. You haven't earned it so how could you possible enjoy it to its full value. Life is about working for rewards and valuing them all the more because of the effort.' He dropped the stones and felt the absence of his mother acutely. He guessed he would never see her or anyone else he loved from his old life again. She would like Le Carra too, she would hold her in the biggest of hugs and rush her off to the kitchen and make a strong cup of tea which was her best way of communicating with someone and they would talk for hours. He could picture it vividly and it made him desperate with homesickness.

'You do not want to be wealthy?' asked Le Tare.

Darion looked at Le Carra and smiled, 'I already am,' he said as Le Tare placed a massive arm around his shoulders as they tramped into the city.

The sun passed its zenith and the colours of the city changed slightly, giving off a more yellow hue. Darion suggested they go somewhere where they could sit as he still worried about Le Carra. Even though she apparently held the position of sole surviving princess of a long lost line, she still must be exhausted from her near death experience and he wanted to make sure she had enough rest before they set out again.

'Any ideas on where we could sleep considering we look like vagabonds and there is a little matter of money or lack thereof to consider,' said Darion at little harsher than he meant. He tried to rectify the situation immediately before ill will set in. 'Sorry I didn't mean to sound ungrateful, I know I couldn't have come this far without you.'

'By all the gods he is a strange one this one. What does Le Carra see in him?' said Le Fidler. 'We are on an adventure away from our homes Darion, this is the best time any of us could have.'

'Who is strange then?' said Darion. 'I could quite happily live to the end of my days without falling thousands of feet into a canyon, nearly die, perform emergency surgery, fall off a cliff and nearly drown and now likely be arrested as a tramp. You have pretty odd ideas of what is fun.'

'Well just leave the accommodation details to me,' said Le Fidler. 'You better come, I am off to have some of that fun I mentioned. I suggest the rest of you find a shady spot and stay there until we get back, this shouldn't take long.'

'Don't get arrested, don't get drunk and don't consort with any of the local women, I mean it Fiddy, I am too tired to be breaking you out of jail or dragging a jealous husband off your back. Just get us some money and that will do,' lectured Le Tare.

'Kill joy,' said Le Fidler as he and Darion walked towards the city entrance. Darion examined the doors opening into the city. They stood three times the size of a man and were made of very thick and polished glass. He could not see any joins and the sheets did not seem to be supported by anything except two small hinges screwed into broad blocks of pink granite.

Darion rubbed his hands along the roadway. The streets were made of a white limestone and as he and Le Fidler passed the gates, they saw the roads spread out in all directions, in and out of the various buildings lining their way. People bustled among the stores and seemed to come from a variety of cultural backgrounds, some with dark skin and others quite pale and some wrapped in heavy furs, perhaps travellers from the deep south or Niflheim as he heard Le Bow call it. He saw scantily clad boys and girls dancing and singing in groups and stalls of food and drinks as well as scarfs, sheets and other haberdashery were being tossed over and haggled with by hundreds of men and women alike. Some of the women wore many layered dresses and face masks making them look androgynous while others wore next to nothing other than thin veils clinging suggestively to their bodies.

Darion and Le Fidler walked through the markets unnoticed and casually picked over various products and politely refused all offers of trade. Darion thought Le Fidler seemed to be enjoying himself, striking up conversations with many of the traders and haggling for bargains and then refusing at the last and moving on. Rather than become annoyed, the shopkeepers merely turned their attention to the next likely purchaser and the bartering continued.

They left the main road and found some busy side streets where children played. They struck a round ball made of animal hide with their feet and tried to lodge it in a large square box with a net hanging from it some hundred feet away. Darion thought it a hybrid of soccer and basketball with no hands allowed. They watched the game for a while and Darion begun to get impatient.

'Are we going to malinger all day Le Fidler, or are we going to find some accommodation?'

'Patience my friend. We are looking for a certain type of person, engaged in a particular past-time and then you will have spoils a plenty to present to your princess.'

Darion blushed at the teasing and followed Le Fidler down some other avenues where he could clearly hear the clinking of what sounded like tiles or stones.

'We are here,' said Le Fidler as he wandered over to a group of about twenty men who gathered around another group who sat in a circle. 'Do you gamble Darion?' he asked.

'Not usually and not when I have no idea of the game. I take it you intend to play, or should I say rob, these gentlemen?'

'Now that is a bit harsh. Fair and open competition is all I am after,' replied Le Fidler watching the game closely. 'Be quiet, speaking while the game is in progress is considered very bad form.'

Darion kept quiet and tried to follow the game. Four men sat facing each other and in the centre was a pile of small square tiles similar in shape to mahjong tiles. Instead of one hundred and forty four tiles, there were closer to fifty, each with plain backs and faces covered with designs with no two the same. A small bell pealed and each man took an equal number of tiles and began studying them, and arranging them in some sort of order. A few minutes later the bell rang again and the man nearest him stood and to Darion's surprise began singing in a beautiful baritone voice. The others stopped clinking tiles and listened attentively. The man sung a story of a young woman who fell in love with a man her father forbade her from seeing because he came from a family with no respect in the town. She defied her father and saw the boy anyway and fell pregnant. The boy dishonoured the girl and left the town and the daughter went to her father to beg forgiveness. He became wild with anger and exiled her from his house telling her never to return. He threw her out onto the street and slammed the door in her face. The girl sobbed and shuffled along a road and left the town. She had no where to go and had no means. She seemed doomed to an untimely death in the Niflheim and the unborn baby with her. The weather turned foul and she huddled under a large tree as lightning crashed around her and water soaked her thoroughly. In her despair she fell into a fitful sleep where she decided she would end her own life. She woke and the storm pounded around her making her frightened. Behind her a figure lurched up out of the dark. With no strength to fight she slumped against the tree and accepted her fate at the deadly hands of a vagabond. Two strong hands reached down and lifted her gently and carried her high placing a blanket around her thin white shoulders. She cried uncontrollably as her father kissed her gently on the forehead and told her the time had come to return home.

The singer finished and men wiped tears from their cheeks and all began applauding and talking hurriedly amongst themselves. The bell pealed again and the second man stood up and he too commenced a song mesmerising the audience with its emotion. Each player in the game sung a dirge and each song sounded beautiful and precious and touched all those around them.

Le Fidler seemed as absorbed as the others in the songs and Darion pulled at his shirt to get his attention.

'I never thought you were the romantic type,' he said to Le Fidler during a break. 'What exactly is going on here?'

'Don't you see, the men collect the tiles and from the pictures they must try to construct a tale using each of the tiles. See, the first singer had tiles with iconography of father, daughter, storms etc. The crowd judge which is the best and the winner is rewarded with an equal amount of coin from each of the other players. I searched the crowd, not the players Darion. I am trying to work out which moral they found more appealing. They very much liked the first tale of the father's love for his daughter being powerful enough to overcome any obstacle. I must admit I liked that one too, so when it is your turn you have to merely play on the family theme for the audience and we should have enough money by nightfall.'

'What do you mean me?' asked Darion in shock. 'I can't sing and I certainly cannot invent songs and melodies without notice. I have never seen this game before, how do you think I could win and what if we lose. We don't have any funds to pay anyone.'

'Don't lose and it wont be an issue. And also remember you are on a time limit. That is what the bells are for.'

'I am not doing it,' said Darion flatly.

'Too late I have already nominated you.' Le Fidler barely finished his words when many pairs of hands pawed at Darion to sit down and choose his tiles. Darion could not concentrate. He basically decided as soon as the opportunity presented itself he would make a bolt for it and hope the men did not get too upset. There would be no way in the world he would sing and dance no matter what the prize.

He took his ten tiles from the pile while contemplating when he would run. He turned the tiles over in his hands and studied them. They were beautiful art works in themselves and he had seen his fair share of art. Although small, each tile face had intricate designs with clear images and enormous details. The first tile he turned held the face of a new born baby, its round pink skin giving him an idea. The next tile was of a father and the third a house surrounded by trees and lawns and his idea took further shape. The rest of the tiles had images of family and friends, a sailing ship, and he felt he might be prepared to sing so long as his memory didn't fail him.

The bell rang and Darion stood while watching a grinning Le Fidler sitting in the background, whom he felt appeared a little too jovial considering their position.

Without thinking about his embarrassment Darion launched into what he thought sounded like a very average version of John Lennon's, 'Beautiful Boy' and as the song progressed and no one laughed he became more confident and thought in the end he didn't do too bad a job. When he finished no one made a sound and he thought he and Le Fidler would be laughed out of town, when one of the men opposite him, a shaggy haired man in his mid forties who chewed on what looked like an old root of some sort, probably Verbana he thought wryly, placed his hands on Darion's and without consulting the others filled it with some bright gold coins and then left the circle. The other two men he played against also gave Darion some money and they too left the circle and all of a sudden the game seemed to be over and the area cleared of spectators some of whom patted Darion on the back as they departed.

Once alone Le Fidler smiled brightly and began counting the money Darion. 'Extraordinary, really quite extraordinary. I don't think I have ever seen a result in this game like that one.'

'What happened?' asked Darion.

'They loved it Darion. They are showing you and your song the greatest respect they can. They did not even need to contend with you or even confer with each other. The song appealed to them with such quality they have conceded defeat and have now left to write the words down and study them with the rest of their family. That really was the most amazing thing. You have many talents Darion. You know of course Le Carra and the others are going to ask how we got some money so quick and you will have to repeat your song to them.'

'No way,' said Darion. 'That audience will be brutal. I think any encore can come from you.'

'We will see. I am guessing that Le Carra will insist.'

'Great,' said Darion. 'Lets get back and find somewhere to rest. Do we have enough money?'

Le Fidler counted the amount twice and looked very satisfied. 'Darion, we have enough for board and lodgings for weeks and we can resupply our packs as well. That really was something. They really liked that song, this is a huge amount of winnings. I knew you could do it.'

Darion felt embarrassed at the plagiarism. He knew however Le Carra would probably like it and so the lie seemed worth it. Between Lennon and Shakespeare he must appear quite the poet to these people. They met the others who were surprised at how quick they managed to gather such an impressive total and they sat under a huge tree on the outskirts of the city and counted the money.

'Who did you rob?' asked Le Tare fingering the coins.

'I really must take offence Le Tare, why do you always think the worst of me immediately?'

'Because it saves time.' said Le Tare gruffly. 'Now out with it.'

Le Fidler gave a brief report to the group and they all insisted Darion repeat the song immediately which he did very unwillingly. They all agreed the song was of a superior quality in both tune and lyrics and Le Carra's eyes shone at Darion who smiled inwardly at the effect it had on her. His stock just went up a little further he thought.

They gathered their belongings and found some accommodations, Darion eager to start his questioning of the townsfolk on the whereabouts of Isaac. They wandered into the markets, street stalls filling every vacant spot in the city and to their disappointment, Le Carra ensured they quickly left the various bars and taverns after making their enquiries.

They found a small armoury selling hand carved knives and swords encrusted with jewels and engravings of the folk history of the region. They heavily armed themselves, being mindful of the stories they heard of the Tusse. They knew not far south, they would travel near the ancient Tusse habitats and they needed to be well prepared.

Darion marvelled at everything he saw. He was reasonably well travelled back home and even so he had never experienced anything like the Silver City. Opulence and splendor punctuated each corner of the city, from streets littered with diamond chips to gold filigrees on every window. Darion knew the people did not value diamonds and it appeared gold also held little excitement for them. He asked Le Tare who explained if everyone had gold then how could not be precious.

'Then why aren't they robbed and raided by every brigand on then planet who does think it valuable? Here is the wealth of a million people sitting on a window ledge.'

Le Tare shook his head in wonder at Darion. 'You cannot be so ignorant Darion. I say this in all honesty and I care for you like a brother. You have however the most offensive attitude to life. Everyone covets wealth, it is a natural human trait. It is a different matter altogether to actually want to relieve these good people of it by theft. What would happen to the town. It would disappear.

They would have no splendor as it would be taken from them and then they would have no means to trade with the outside world and so they would starve and cease to exist. The people of the town simply would not stand for it and besides many years ago they created a system which protects them fully from any would be rogue thieves who do not understand the protocols of civilised life. I have never seen, only heard, of the power of the people of this part of the world. They have a reputation of being stoic defenders. Be alert, in the next few hours Darion and we will see some wonders.'

They moved slowly through the throng of people and Le Bow moved in and out of the traffic as if he were back in the Ships of Mesania, dodging and weaving so fast they all found it difficult to keep up. Eventually he stopped in front of a large ornate tent. 'This looks interesting. Let's enter,' he said. They all felt drawn to the tent and it seemed completely natural for them to want to go inside. Throw rugs and cushions littered the floor and they sat assessing the wall hangings and the attractive servant girls offering them refreshments. Darion thought the tent looked like an Arabian marquee hitched around an oasis, with sheiks and dancers and fine foods and music everywhere. Although the owners did not dress in Arab garb they were still ostentatious enough to be seen as remarkable even in a city such as this.

An overlarge man approached them with bare chest and feet, his bulging biceps circled with gold bracelets accentuating the cut of the muscles. In a deep and not unfriendly voice, he directed them to a secondary antechamber.

'You come to hear the future or more precisely your future. You have been expected, please wait for the Encalla.'

'What does he mean by 'expected?' asked Darion to the group. 'How could we have been expected? We didn't even expect to be here?'

Within seconds another man entered, looking stooped and ancient. His long white hair hung in two long braids down to his waist, each tipped with baubles of gold. With his hands he invited them into a small room in the tent and sat them down at a round, short legged table covered in a dark tapestry, the wax and resin from batik filling the room.

The troop sat cross legged on the ground, the table now chest height and looked at each other warily while the old man turned to each of them with his eyes closed. He sang in a clear, soft, melodious style, filling the room with a pleasant air although the group could not understand the language. He looked in Le Bow's direction and after a few minutes his eyes shot open and he ceased his song.

'Le Bow, so brave and young. You have ideals and wish to travel and seek out all the secrets of Salnikov. I say do not restrict yourself to these finite wishes. The world is bigger than you think. Expand your mind and look across the seas as that will be your destiny.'

Le Bow shivered as the man spoke to him. Ignoring for the moment who the 'Encalla' knew hs name, he was uncannily right about how he felt about the world in which he was born. He did want to see the world and the rest of his companions knew this also and began shifting uncomfortably in their seats awaiting their turn. The images of Mara the Seeress came immediately into their minds and they did not trust or like mind readers.

'Be at peace people of Mesania. My skills are never abused and I do not seek dominion over you. That is the province of the dark ones of my order of which I do not belong and the greatest is destroyed. I am merely giving you some insights into your life you may never have contemplated or indeed acknowledegd. You can use the information as you will. That is of no concern to me.'

The man moved his gaze to Le Fidler who definitely did not look forward to hearing the soothsayer's guesses.

'No need to read my thoughts Encalla the diviner. Everyone in Salnikov knows you and everyone also knows I live only to serve my friends. Move on to the next.'

The others looked sideways at Le Fidler and he shrugged his shoulders at them and surprisingly Encalla gave a brief smile. 'Le Fidler, you are known to us as soon as you entered the city and I do know your thoughts. You are worried this meeting will cost you money and you are trying to plan how you can escape the fee. Do not concern yourself, there is not a fee. Let us talk of deeper things.' He looked at Le Carra and back to Le Fidler. 'You love the woman Le Carra. You also love the one she has chosen and it churns and bubbles away inside your heart. What should you do? You know. You reject your feelings and concentrate on other things. What will you do? You are frivolous as a result. You are dangerous because you do not value your life as you should and to you death is not to be feared. You are unhappy.'

Le Fidler felt stripped naked, his faced a blanket of red at the embarrassment of his feelings for Le Carra, he had housed silently for years, suddenly being on show for all to see. If he looked, he would have seen his friends were not mocking him and rather looked with understanding, especially Le Carra who reached across and held his hand and kissed it.

'Oh Fiddy. I'm sorry,' she said.

Darion felt awful. He was the outsider and felt certain, as with Mara, this diviner would be unable to read him but he felt for Le Fidler. He heard them all say at one time or another they loved Le Carra and until the Encalla spoke, he thought it only an mere expression of affection. Le Fidler, who always seemed so happy, in reality masked a dreadful pain he must feel every time he looked at her and especially when she kissed and played with him. If he hadn't arrived then who knows maybe Le Carra and Le Fidler may have ended up together. This was getting ugly.

The Encalla turned his thoughts to Le Tare who sat solidly one hand in a big fist on the table and the other on the hilt of his sword.

'Swords are useless here Le Tare,' he said which made Le Tare loosen his grip and place his other hand on the table.

'Don't waste your time with me friend of the spirit world. I killed Mara in an instant and would do the same to you if you are not discreet.' The look on his face was so threatening the Encalla flinched and Le Tare moved his hand back to his sword 'And do not be too sure that swords are no good here. Your spells are weak.'

Encalla merely nodded his head and thought for a little longer.

'Le Tare you want to be the leader. You should be the leader. The question is will you be the leader. In all things you have been the general and should not the general then smoothly take control when his victory is assured? One has arrived who has usurped your authority and you also are torn. You love Le Carra also, as a father loves his daughter and you love Mesania as a king loves his realm. You are losing both to the Rok beside you. What to do great man. Your sword could solve all with a swipe of his head. Do you want this? There are decisions for you to make. I would be sleeping lightly if I was your enemy.'

Le Tare's anger overflowed and he thumped his fists on the table. 'You speak falsely Encalla, perhaps the swipe of my sword would solve some problems especially if I start with your neck.'

'You can do as you please Le Tare. You are only killing the messenger not the message.'

Le Tare sat brooding in a smouldering silence as Encalla turned to Le Carra.

'The beautiful Le Carra who holds a secret. Yes I know this secret well princess. You carry an unexpected gift for your rebellion. Will you take the realm? Your husband must be your strength and maybe he too is flawed. Will he stay at your side. Will you wake one day and he is gone? Doubts are entering your mind even as I speak.' The seer chuckled and the others absorption in their own miseries meant they neither noticed nor cared about the derision. Their inner secrets were now exposed to their closest friends and none felt comfortable this naked.

Finally Encalla turned to Darion whose stomach sunk in anticipation. This guy was obviously good and now he would be exposed. What would he say? Here is a man from another planet who knows nothing about any of you and as soon as he finds his companion he will do his best to try and get home or something like that. The reality is he did not know what to do when and if he found Isaac. He felt certain what he would hear from this seer would be messy.

'Rok Darion they call you. I read you as having more secrets than the rest combined. You are a mystery to me in many ways and now I know how you defeated Mara. Her strength

lay in knowing the minds of others and she could not read yours. I can however look past your mind and speak of your deeds. You are an artist, perhaps the greatest artist who has ever been. You will marvel the world with your work and you will be an unseen ally in the times to come.' Darion exhaled a breath he did not know he held. The Encalla's claims were preposterous. He knew he was the most incompetent artist in creation and the thought anything he could create would have any merit was ludicrous.

The Encalla spoke again this time to the group. 'You are on a quest to find a man who is lost and the task is worthy. Be wary. You know not what forces are gathering in the world so I will tell you of the times ahead. Your mountain will be besieged, your people will be assailed. Many will die. You will find allies where you did not expect and great evil also. Darkness is ahead and the evil we once saw in this world has returned. You know of what I speak. It is in all your tales. The ones you only utter when the nights are dark and the children are asleep. Will the beast return or was it ever real? The answer to both these questions is yes,' thundered the Encalla. 'It is here.' He sat silently for a minute before looking each in the eye.

'Your path is back to the mountain and help defend your city.'

A shudder ran through the room and each of their hearts raced. They knew what the Encalla spoke of. The Saviour destroyed it a millennium ago or so some thought. Others were not so sure and believed both the Saviour and the Beast destroyed each other in a cataclysmic battle.

'When the moons Arean and Argil return in the sky together and are full, then all the roads will collide and the world will change. I will say no more.'

The Encalla left the room and the group sat for some time trying to contemplate what just transpired.

Le Tare broke the silence and brought them back to reality. 'Have we not broken the shackles of the madwoman Mara and here we are fearful of the words of yet another who claims prescience. Forget the words of Encalla, he is as flawed as Mara. I will not harbour thoughts of the Beast returning. His words ring in a false peal.'

They all rose and left, each uncertain despite Le Tare's words. They re-entered the street and noticed immediately the day waned to evening and the night lamps already began to shine in the streets. They spent the night in the tavern, much to the delight of Le Bow and Le Fidler. Le Tare however did not feel in the mood for mirth as the words of Encalla haunted him. He waited until Darion sat alone and moved next to him as he studied his mead wine.

'What do you think of what Encalla said?' he asked. 'You know, about my supposed jealousy.'

Darion could see the confusion on Le Tare's face and felt he needed to validate this somehow.

'Well for mine he was completely wrong. He said I am a great artist and if you give me a brush and some paints I can prove him wrong in an instant however I can see there may be some truth in what he says of you, even if you deny it.'

Le Tare looked up in shock. 'You believe this crazy old man?'

'Look at it logically. Here you are having devoted your life to freeing your people from oppression and I come along and take half the credit. If I was you, I would have my nose out of joint.'

Surprisingly Le Tare chuckled, 'Nose out of joint. That is very amusing. Where do you find these aphorisms? I think you are wrong Darion. I do not think you would be invidious at all if you were in my position. I think you would be accepting and understanding and hold no malice or jealousy. I am quite ashamed of my feelings because Encalla spoke true. I am annoyed at not fulfilling my rightful place in our society. It is why I came with you. I needed to prove somehow I could be your better.'

'I am sorry Le Tare, I did not mean for any of this to happen.'

'You misread me Darion. I am dealing with my demons and the more I contemplate, the more I see you are a great man and I a lessor one and this cannot be altered. I do defer to you as a leader.'

'For goodness sake man, I do not want to be leader. The people don't want me telling them what to do. They want to look to you.' He placed a caring hand on Le Tare's shoulder and the big man shot him an embarrassed grin.

'We are still friends then?' asked Le Tare.

'We always were,' replied Darion.

They retired to their rooms and all slept early intending to break their fast quickly and to move on. The next morning they collected their belongings and headed to the northwestern border of the city pointing back to Mesania, just as the Encalla suggested.

'Why do we go this way?' asked Le Tare. They noticed their direction and made a conscious decision to head south, basically to spite Encalla and the more they moved the better they felt until his thoughts disappeared out of their minds all together.

Darion began recovering his enthusiasm and felt like giving Le Carra a big hug, ignoring his usual self consciousness. He glanced at Le Fidler and decided against it now he knew Le Fidler's true feelings. He would keep his distance and managed to catch Le Carra's eye and she seemed to read his thoughts. Although heading away from The Encalla, they saw no need to have his premonitions display themselves unnecessarily. It would only make Le Fidler more unhappy.

As they passed the various shops and traders, they asked about Isaac, describing him as quite a bit taller than Darion, yellow curly hair and spoke in an odd accent. They also mentioned he may seem a little disorientated and when cornered could be prone to violent outbursts. Not a flattering description thought Darion although quite an accurate one. No-one they spoke to knew Isaac.

They asked directions and by mid afternoon they reached another large glass wall or another section of the same they crossed the day before, stretching as far as the eye could see in both directions. They took the southern path and eventually came to a guard house with a large, oafish looking Silverarian, in front of it, who rudely challenged the companions.

'Where does thoust go?' He asked in an angry drawl suggesting he had little patience.

'We leave the city,' said Le Fidler in an equally challenging tone causing a second guard to exit the guard house, his hand on the hilt of his sword. 'Is that a problem for the Silver City guardsmen?'

'Not particularly,' said the second man who appeared to be the leader of the two as the first man stepped back and allowed him to speak. 'We only need to ensure you do not take any portion of the city that does not belong to you.'

Darion cringed inside, he knew Le Fidler was under considerable pressure and these two were just asking for it. He did not want any bloodshed.

'I am surprised there would be anything left worth stealing after the guardsmen had finished,' said Le Fidler whose hand also moved to his side. The guard reached for a whistle around his neck and gave it three short toots and another larger building next to the road emptied of some thirty soldiers who surrounded Darion and his friends.

Darion could see the situation worsening. He decided to try and mediate so they would all finish the day alive.

'Come now, we don't want to finish the day like this do we?' he said as he moved to the head guardsman. 'The reputation of the Silver City Guard precedes you, although where I come from you are referred to as the 'Elite' guard.'

The guardsman looked to his fellows and smiled. 'Elite guards you say, yes that name is very pleasing to us.' and suddenly in a more conciliatory manner he replied to Darion. 'We are only trying to do our job here good sir and part of that is to challenge those who leave as well as those who enter.'

'And quite understandably so,' said Darion. 'There are thieves everywhere,' he said looking at Le Fidler whom he held by the elbow the whole time. 'However, as you can see we are no thieves or vagabonds, just travellers who have lost a friend. Maybe you could help us. The guardsmen of the city are reputed to know all regarding those who travel the dusty roads of Salnikov.'

'Well good sir we do keep our eyes wide and our ears pricked as we say in the city. Tell me of whom you seek and we may be able to assist.'

'He was a companion of mine from a great distance away. You would notice him as he is much larger than myself with a crop of curly yellow hair which seems out of place amongst the people of this vicinity.'

The guard consulted with his men and dismissed the ones who emerged from the adjacent shack.

'I am Hanna of the royal guardsmen and I can say confidently we have seen no-one of that description and be assured none like him have entered the city in recent times.'

'Then that is good enough for me,' said Darion in a resigned voice. 'We will continue our search. Come my friends let us empty our pockets and show the Elite Guard we have not obtained items illicitly.'

'That will not be necessary,' said the guardsman as Darion began clearing his trouser pockets. 'You are obviously men of honour and your word is good enough for me.'

'Then you have it sir. We take nothing from the city other than ourselves and fond memories. Come friends, we will take our leave of these fine soldiers as they must have more important pursuits than to deal with the likes of us.' Darion began moving past the guardsmen who made a path for him. 'And if we could be just a little more burdensome to the Elite Guard, if you see my friend, his name is Isaac and I would be greatly in debted to you if you could send him to Mesania with word his friend Darion is searching for him.'

The guard bowed as Darion passed. 'Be assured the message will be given Darion and good fortune on the road and be careful of the southern routes. The Tusse are abroad again, and have already challenged some of our kin. They will not hesitate to waylay a small band such as yourselves.' He noticed Le Carra for the first time, 'and you carry with you the most princely prize I have ever seen.' He bowed low to Le Carra who gave him a slight tilt of her head. Darion returned the guardsman's bow and the five passed through the gates without further hindrance.

'Very good my darling,' said Le Carra when they cleared the gates. 'That was very impressive, you kissed his ego until I thought he would offer to be your personal escort for the rest of the trip.'

'Well it would have been more fun if you let me play with him a bit,' said Le Fidler sulkily.

'Maybe,' replied Darion, 'knowing you, the fun may have escalated to something we may not have been able to handle and we don't need the aggravation.'

'He is right,' said Le Tare. 'The Silver City has left a foul taste in my mouth and I want to get away from here as soon as possible.'

They tightened their new packs and headed southwest following the sun as it disappeared in the clear afternoon sky. A slight southerly breeze chilled the air just as the guardsman promised.

'I think we should take the guards advice about not heading south,' said Le Bow.'I know we seem to be making Encalla's prophecy come true but I am none too keen to run into these Tusse everyone speaks of. I thought they were destroyed. Evidently they only hid in the south and now they seem to a abroad once again.'

'Bring them on,' said Le Fidler. 'I could use a good fight.'

They enjoyed a leisurely walk through the country side around Silver City and the sound of running water filled the air from both the waterfalls they had tumbled down, and the many rivers and streams fed by the mountains to their west. Around them the land changed and became more hilly with small trees appearing and the great expanses of grassland gave way to woody glens.

They moved only a few miles from the city and decided to bivouac by the side of yet another shallow stream crossing their path, a sweet smell from surrounding bushes filling the air. They washed their faces in the stream, the cold water from its trip down from the mountains refreshing them and in a few months they sensed the stream would be covered in icy and snow as the Niflhiem crept north for the winter.

They unhooked their straps and lay out a dinner of cold meats and water from the stream when Le Tare jumped to his feet, quickly followed by Le Fidler both men standing rigid as they smelt the air.

'Something is here,' said Le Tare drawing his sword. 'I do not know this smell. It is all around us.' Instinctively the others also drew their swords including Darion who held his clumsily, his heart racing and the adrenaline gushing through his body.

Le Bow and Darion instinctively moved next to Le Carra and then they all stood rigid listening for any sounds. The bushes and woodlands around them stirring only slightly from a cool zephyr and not another sound could be heard except Le Tare's nostrils flaring again and again as he searched the air with his nose. After a minute, which seemed an hour to Darion, Le Tare relaxed the grip on his sword and sat back down looking every now and again over his shoulder and then returning to his meal. The rest of the group lost their appetite and slowly prowled the perimeter of the little clearing trying to search between the rocks and trees blocking the horizon. Le Tare seemed to have forgotten the incident altogether until they all sat down next to him.

'Be aware. We could be fighting at nightfall.' He said this in such a calm manner, the others initially did not understand the importance of what he suggested. However his next comments left no room for interpretation.

'All intelligent armies attack when they have the greatest advantage and in the evening when the light fails and the enemy is unfamiliar with the terrain, this is the best time to attack. We should eat and gain strength because it could be a long night.' He kept chewing as the others looked worriedly at each other.

'I don't mind telling you I feel much the same as Le Fidler here.' Continued Le Tare. 'I think I would like to crack some heads. It would calm me down significantly I am sure.' He ripped another slash of meat with his teeth.

'And what exactly are we to expect at dusk Le Tare, I may need a little more preparation than yourself. I like to know what I am fighting before it comes,' said Le Fidler.

'Did you not listening Fiddy? The old men in the city spoke of them, as has the Encalla and now the keepers of the gates of Silver City. We are pursued by Tusse of this there is no doubt. There is a smell in the air I have not encountered before and I can only conclude that it is these creatures.'

'I am glad you are so calm,' said Le Fidler. 'However I for one would like you to give us a bit of information on how I can fight these things. It may help.'

The others listened hard to Le Tare watching him wrestle with a long strip of meat clinging to the bone he chewed. Darion felt like ripping the meat from his mouth and hurling it away. Le Tare seemed completely at ease while the rest of them felt a rising fear.

'I can only tell you what I have heard. The Tusse are simians, bipeds like us, and nomadic. They live only to kill and take everything they can from the bodies of the dead. They have no need of wealth, so your money is safe Le Fidler, and they will eat every part of you save the teeth and these they make into jewellery for their women.

They will attack in a pack and use their numbers to win the battle however when alone they will only observe. It is their scouting party who just saw us. I am guessing there were only a few of their kind and they have sent some back to fetch more of their kin. They wear only cloths around their waists to cover their vitals and they show their bare and hairy chests where they pump their muscles and beat on them with their fists making a thud that is their challenge for war. They also carry long spears, sharp on both edges and the tips are dipped in a poisonous resin you are unable to wash off the skin. Rumour has it the poison will slowly disperse into the blood and eat the internal organs leaving only the flesh which they can then devour. They communicate with each other through chattering and guttural tones impossible for us to interpret. As they are pack creatures, I think we could conservatively expect to be out numbered ten to one. That is about all I can tell you.'

'Is that all?' said Le Fidler nervously.

'Oh yes I forgot to mention they absolutely hate us and even if they are not hungry will kill us for their sport.'

'I'm glad you didn't forget to tell us that. What in the gods names are we supposed to do?'

Le Bow who said nothing spoke up.

'We kill them Fiddy. We draw our swords and we fight until we cannot fight anymore and the Tusse will bow to us.'

They all looked at Le Bow with surprise, Darion especially. He saw his friend differently. He now knew Le Carra and he were not true brother and sister but here Le Bow stood, strong and straight with his hand on the hilt of his sword and to Darion he looked as if he were a prince leading a thousand men into battle. He felt a thrill in his own stomach and drew his own sword along with the others.

Le Tare smiled grimly at each of them as he signalled them all to wait while he did some scouting of his own. After a few minutes he came back and to the relief of Darion at least, his sword remained safely in its scabbard.

'I can see no sign of them. I guess they will wait until late tonight. We need to strategise.' He jogged to a slight hill and surveyed what he could of the region as the light dimmed. 'We are too far from the city to return quickly so we need to find some high ground with some shelter. If we are caught on the ground it will be much more difficult. Over there is a crop of trees crowning a tor. If we can get there we will have a good view of the surrounds and will be able to see the enemy as he comes.' He could see the worried look on Le Carra's face and he came to her side. 'Fear not little Le Carra, we will protect. I cannot however mask the truth. There will be a fight before the morrow, it will be bloody and it is not certain we will prevail.'

She smiled weakly and took Darion's hand as they moved briskly to the distant hill a good hours march ahead. As far as Darion knew, Le Tare's battle plan appeared as sound as any he could conjure. Fighting appeared inevitable so it may as well be on their terms and not these Tusse. He felt the hair on the back of his head grow rigid and a chill sweep over him as he glanced quickly over his shoulder.

'They are coming,' he heard Le Bow cry without fear in his voice, seeming happy he could actually see the enemy. 'Its seems they know nothing about waiting for complete darkness to attack Le Tare.'

At first Darion could not discern anything clearly, rather he saw a cloud of dust rise from the spot they sat at an hour before. Slowly as the dust came closer he could make out shapes. Whatever existed under the dust definitely followed them and in no orderly fashion. He likened it to the frenzied stampedes of zebras when the lion leapt into the mob. Bodies seemed to be everywhere weaving in and out of trees and sometimes swinging from them and when they hit the ground they travelled at a fantastic rate leaping from powerful hind legs and sprinting high from their front legs. At the pace they travelled, the Tusse would overtake them in about fifteen minutes.

From an unseen signal the group sprinted faster and Darion clutched Le Carra's hand as she ran with him, her pace increasing and soon she began dragging him along rather than then other way around.

Even through the panic of fleeing for their lives, Le Fidler managed to see the humorous side.

'Who is rescuing who here?' he said jogging effortlessly beside him. 'If you help her any more Darion the Tusse will be thanking you for providing a ready made dinner.'

Darion didn't have the breath to reply, the lactic acid burning his legs and his lungs straining for air. Le Carra pulled him along and soon they stood at the foot of the hill Le Tare espied. 'One last effort,' he called as he sprinted up a small overgrown path to the crest.

Darion was so spent he did not think he could lift his sword let alone fight as he collapsed at the apex of the hill his breaths coming in large gulps as he tried to recover. He made a mental note to start a fitness program if he survived. The others drew their swords and took posts on each of the compass points, calling to each other the status of the nearest threats. With the precision of hardened soldiers the men fell into position. Years of living in a regimented life meant they could quickly assess danger decide to escape or find the best way to combat it. After a few minutes Darion rose to his knees. 'What can I do?' He asked through heavy breaths.

'Try to stay alive and stab anything coming over the rise behind you,' said Le Tare who, now battle returned, led the group confidently.

Darion turned around and saw they had given him the side with the least chance of assault. The eastern side he guarded dropped sharply a hundred feet onto shard like outcrops of rocks and he thought the chance of anything climbing that way was negligible. His friends had decided to move him out of the way. Without saying anything they left Le Carra in the middle of the circle for maximum protection and although he felt deathly tired he could not remember this actually being verbalised.

His sword felt heavy in his hand and he wished he had been given a smaller knife or perhaps a gun. He was not sure even if presented with the opportunity he would have the nerve to kill something no matter how threatening or repugnant it may be.

An eerie silence filled the whole hill. He tried to pierce the middle distance and he could see no sign of anything coming their way. He turned and moved slightly towards Le Bow's northern position and he could see the concentration on his friend's face. He opened his mouth to speak when he learned his first lesson about warfare.

He assumed the area he guarded would be difficult if not impossible to breach so he began moving towards the rest of the group. Unknown to him the Tusse gathered under the shadow of a large outcrops of rocks forming a shelf near the base of the cliff. The Tusse were good climbers and possessed some strategy and an ability to work together when they desired. They decided the cliff would be the area where they would be least expected and they were right. Darion drifted well away from the cliff face and like ants, the Tusse began crawling up the rock face, leaping over the edge in large numbers. Le Carra noticed the breach first and let out a warning scream.. Immediately the others swung around and bounded towards the threat, leaving their own patch deserted.

Darion saw what he had done. If he merely stayed alert and did as he was told, they would never have been caught unawares. Le Tare screamed orders and the others reacted instantly. They formed a smaller circle around Le Carra their weapons facing out which allowing them to protect each others backs and still leaving themselves enough room to swing. Le Fidler opted for a curved and wicked looking cutlass and in the other hand he held long knife gleaming with its keenness.

Darion joined their ranks and had a clear view of his first Tusse. It stood about five and a half feet tall, covered in a dark curly hair separating only enough to allow a head to show through. Its arms were free from hair and they bulged impressively with taught muscles stretching over thin skin. Their heads looked primeval, with broad jaws and wide foreheads with little hair on the crown. They waved swords dangerously and Darion noticed straight away no two swords were alike. They armed themselves with whatever they found from their killing raids rather than from a formal stores or forges. As Le Tare said, they killed and took what they needed, left the ravished skeleton of the homes and people behind them. As such they would never have a homogenous army, only one made out of the refuse of whoever or whatever they conquered. The swords were dark with rust and some looked old and decrepit. Darion did not like the idea of getting even scratched by one of them as he felt sure that they would be full of disease.

The Tusse grinned and showing yellow and broken teeth, two sharp front ones for rending flesh and the rest rounded from years of gnawing animal remains. They did not attack immediately, and merely circled the group, slowly waiting for their numbers to increase.

'On my command we charge,' said Le Tare. 'You fight any of the creatures falling into your peripheral vision. Do not look outside this arc as it will upset the balance of our defence. We will charge them before their reinforcements arrive then retreat back into our circle. On my command. Go.'

Le Tare did not wait for consultation, leaders of men in battle never do. He decided a course of action while under enemy fire and executed it knowing perfectly well his men would do exactly as he said without hesitation. Darion charged ahead waving his sword clumsily around his head screaming as he ran. The Tusse in front of him stepped to one side and let him pass and then quickly dived pass him and into the middle of the cell of defenders. Darion learned his second lesson in warfare, do not over commit. He turned quickly and saw Le Tare cleave the head off one of the Tusse and swing back in time to take the head off one Darion missed. With a smoothness contrary to his huge frame, he efficiently brought his sword against another Tusse who thought he could catch Le Tare off guard. It died before it hit the ground, a sunburst of blood filling the air and nostrils around them.

Another larger Tusse rose over the edge of the hill along with a cortege of other Tusse. It did not charge the battle and only stood and observed. It looked to be the leader and it enjoyed the battle in front of it.

Le Fidler broke his cutlass on the head of one Tusse who got too close and then speared a second with the broken shard, leaving the sword sticking out of the Tusse's gut. Pulling a small blade from his belt he resorted to close in knife work. He spun stabbing and slashing at the attackers the others now avoiding him to find weaker prey.

Le Tare's sword resisted all of the Tusse attacks. They had rarely seen such strength in an enemy before. He simply walked straight ahead literally cleaving limbs and heads off anything entering his strike zone. Eventually the Tusse decided to leave him as well.

The numbers on the northern side grew dangerously as Le Bow fielded the bulk of the enemy who deserted Le Fidler and Le Tare. His fighting style differed slightly from the rest, not the rough, frenetic thrust and lunge of Le Fidler or the power of Le Tare. His style involved a more considered, structured attack, as it needed to be, when he is outnumbered twenty to one. He sliced at one of the Tusse to form a barricade delaying as many as possible from getting to him. The longer it took for a Tusse to jump over a dead comrade or walk around it gave Le Bow a second more to fight another. He did this with a the grace and ease of a dancer. Tusse dropped at his feet and he would skip to its side and drop another until he formed a wall of dead bodies around him acting like a bridge the others needed to climb.

Eventually even the Tusse's small simian brain decided this target also was too formidable and so they turned to the last corner to test its strength. Darion saw the events unfold as if in slow motion. The tide of the battle slowly turned his way, as the sea of monsters moved towards him. He held his own against the enemy at present based only on his superior reach. Any ideas he housed about not killing any of these creatures disappeared once he got close to them. They had only murder on their brutal faces and it became obvious there would be no parlaying or clemency. They wished him dead and his own natural bestial feelings from a million years of latent genetics came to the fore and he had two choices, the most basic of human emotion. Fight or flight. He could not flee so he had to fight these creatures. His longer reach and strength held them at bay although after a few minutes of swinging and parrying he began to weaken while the battle hardened Tusse continued to attack. With his strength waning he knew he could only last for a few more minutes. They would break down his feeble defences and kill him. He accepted this as a matter of fact and felt disappointed he would not be able to show Le Carra to Isaac. Funny how the mind worked he thought to himself as he blocked another Tusse strike and managed to catch the beast on the side of its head with his sword dropping it to the ground. Another leapt over it and then another and soon Darion had three and then four of the creatures bearing down on him, a victory look in their eyes he knew was warranted.

Darion decided he would fight to the end so at least he would have some dignity. A smaller Tusse snuck under his guard and he only just deflected its strike when he saw a sword flying towards his head with no way of stopping it. He closed his eyes and waited for the impact when an clash of metal made him open them again and he saw Le Tare next to him slicing and decapitating everything around him. The Tusse retreated and Darion saw their leader, who to this point only observed the carnage, turn and disappear over the rise. The decimated remains of the Tusse followed and a minute later all that remained on the tor were the writhing bodies of the injured and low moans of pain. The view shocked them. Scores of bodies lay all around them. Deep crimson blood seeped and oozed out of deadly cuts and ran away into the soil making the ground around them damp and sticky. Already large blowflies gathered on the bodies, injecting their eggs into the wounds and carrion birds circled overhead. The hill changed from green expanse to a macabre theatre of death and misery.

Darion dropped to his knees and retched uncontrollably while the others began moving amongst the bodies, kicking the sides first to see if they were alive and if so they darted their swords through the hearts of the enemy thus humanely ending their pain. After a few minutes the moans ceased, as the last of the Tusse died leaving the hill silent and morgue like.

Darion wiped his mouth on his sleeve, took a long draught from his water flask and moved to the edge of the hill and stared after the retreating Tusse who already had reached the distant horizon. Although the entire battle lasted only a few minutes, he knew it would remain with him forever.

'What a waste of life,' he muttered under his breath as he kicked a stone down the tor in frustration.

'Do not be too worried about the Tusse Darion,' said Le Tare who moved beside him. 'They would not have given you any quarter and murdered you where you stood without blinking. They only kill. That is what they do.'

Darion did not reply. He felt a deep sense of guilt washing through his psyche. Killing went against everything he believed in. He marched in the streets protesting against such violence back home and now he perpetrated the same violence he abhorred on others. Suddenly a realisation dawned on him he never fully appreciated before and he thought he understood better the plight of the soldier. They did what they needed to for survival. They destroyed an enemy intent on destroying them and that is the nature of the survival of the fittest, the oldest credo in the human experience.

He suddenly remembered Le Carra and with a rush he turned to ensure she was uninjured. He could not remember seeing her at all in the last few minutes except when they first formed their ring around her. In the confusion he forgot her. The clearing at the top of the hill was small and could be thoroughly searched in a few seconds and to his shock he could not see her anywhere. 'Le Carra where are you?' He shouts were so violent and desperate it immediately shook the others into realisation. They turned in a flurry and walked, jogged and then ran around the clearing, pushing bodies over and lifting the dead carcasses off one another searching for their princess.

'She is nowhere,' said Le Bow frantically. 'I lost sight of her only for an instant . If she is hurt I could not live. Le Carra, Le Carra.' Le Bow mindlessly ran around the hill, down one side and circling for a bit and then rushing over the top and down another side. All four men became crazed with panic. They ripped small trees and scrubs out of the ground, and threw the Tusse over the cliff one by one until the area was clear of everything except the four of them. No living thing was left and they flung themselves to the ground crying and dashing their fists against the ground.

'The Tusse have taken her,' screamed Le Fidler. 'It is the only possible answer. They have taken her and what they must be doing to her. We must go, now before it is too late.'

Le Fidler sprinted to the edge of the hill, Le Bow right next to him, tears running freely down his face, Darion went to join them when Le Tare's huge hands grabbed them all by their collars and flung them roughly to the ground. They lay there stunned for a moment as Le Tare wiped the blood from his sword on a rag in his spare hand.

'What are you doing? We must leave immediately,' cried Le Bow.

'Which way will you look?' said Le Tare and before they answered he continued. 'And how will you catch them? Where do they go and how fast do they travel? Do they sleep and set watches or run with endless energy? How many are there? What is their purpose? Why do they kidnap, they never have before? Why do they burden themselves with a parcel? Did it not seem strange to you one minute they are in full attack and with their numbers they would eventually defeat us and the next minute they have beaten a very hasty retreat? It made no sense to me at the time though now I see they came on us for the single purpose of stealing our most precious possession. They will not kill her, although I agree there are worse things than death and they do not keep human trophies. No. They were charged with this deed and believe themselves successful. If you run off without a plan then we will most assuredly never find our Le Carra. Think men if only for a second.'

Darion stood next to the prostrate Le Bow and he helped him to his feet and Le Fidler joined him wiping his own tears from his face.

'Lead us Le Tare. We must find these creatures and woe to them when we do.' Said Le Fidler firmly.

Le Tare took them to the edge of the hill and they craned their necks towards to western horizon, the late afternoon sun spreading its light through the clouds as the land became lost in a deepening dark.

'See the dust the rabble leave. It is a path we can follow. There must be many hundreds of them to leave such a storm of dirt and dust seen from a distance such as this. Notice the path they take is not true south but west. I know not where they are headed. They move faster than us so we must move smarter. We already know the Niflheim is their home even though they have become more adventurous recently. They will surely return to where they are safest. We must get there before them. I think they start west to confuse us and intend to follow the river and somehow move south to the Niflheim. We will risk the Silver Rapids and use the Silver Streak thereby driving straight into the heart of the Niflheim. They must leave the banks of the river at some point and before they reach the wide lake of Crystal Waters south of us. If we find a vessel we may overtake them by water. The river will have many for sale.'

'And if not we will borrow one,' said Le Fidler without humour. 'But how do you know the region?'

Le Tare smiled grimly. 'It is Le Bow here who piqued my interest in geography many years ago with his oft times dreaming and fantasising about the wondrous world abroad. I began collecting maps of the regions known to us and found myself also with wandering feet. It is why I came, to see the world before the serious business of government made it impossible for me. We were never going to be lost in this land my friends. I would not have permitted it.'

'Then why do they not head south immediately? It would seem the logical course if they wanted to reach their homelands quickly,' said Le Bow.

'I do not know. We must make our best guess however and for Le Carra's sake it best be correct.'

The men tightened their packs to their shoulders, cleaning their swords with the filthy rags laying around the tor, most of which had fallen from the dead carcasses of the Tusse they killed. They moved their longer swords from their sides to their backs, locking them against their shoulders with leather strips. It would mean it would take time to draw them in an emergency but they had to travel quickly and could not afford to have five pounds of metal jiggling and bouncing at their sides. They looked west and the dying sun cast a shadow over the line of a river bubbling southwards spurning them into action. In single file they leapt off the hill, sprinting to the river's shore.

They travelled silently, each with his own worries, their breath heavy forcing them to stop regularly to recover and set their bearings. They could see the river closer at each stop although it now disappeared behind a line of forest. With the fall of evening they could only guess the distance.

'The moons will rise late at this time of the year,' said Le Tare. 'We must sleep in the early hours of the evening and begin again when the moons are giving off enough reflected light for us to see and this way we can probably travel around eighteen hours in any day and hopefully will be enough to reach the shoreline this night.'

After a quick feed from their diminishing provisions they dropped straight to sleep. Le Tare volunteering to stay awake as a sentry until his head dropped to his chest and he slept.

Darion woke as the sun began licking at his eyelids, its warmth still powerful even in the southern climates. His knees creaked as he rose and he rubbed his side where a large tree root had been wedged all night, leaving a deep hole and a cramped muscle he worked out with his knuckle. It took only a few moments for him to realise what happened.

'Quickly everyone, wake up, it is morning, we slept through.' He rushed around their campsite urgently trying to shoulder his sword and pack while running and kicking dirt in his friend's faces as they also leapt to their feet annoyed and ashamed at their indolence.

Le Tare searched the horizon ahead and could not see far due to the line of trees blocking the view both north and south.

'The river is there,' he said as he pointed to some trees not more than fifty feet ahead of them. 'Had we continued we would likely have fallen in and anything could have happened. It may have been fortuitous that we slept.'

'And now they are miles in front of us,' said Le Fidler with despair.

'We do not know that Fiddy, they too must rest if they are of flesh and blood. The optimistic side of me says we are no better or worse off than before. We will not however get a second chance. We must find a boat.'

The Silver Streak, a voluminous river, bisected the western side of Salnikov for two thousand miles from north to south, with the Silver City as its main feature. Along its route many trade settlements formed and the river became the main source of commerce for any who ply crops and merchandise in this part of the world. No sooner did the troop reached the water's edge than they found a flotilla of craft of all shapes and sizes moored along the banks or drifting seawards laden with cargo. The falls could be heard all around them and as they studied the river closer, they could see it had many tributaries allowing mariners to flow past the rapids in many different places. It was the oddest looking water course Darion had ever seen. He would hate to think what would happen if by accident you took the wrong turn as no doubt the vessels would be smashed beyond recognition along with any passengers, as the water pounded over the shallow submerged rocks. The din from the water forced them to speak quite loudly to be heard.

'Which one should we take?' yelled Le Bow as he wiped a thin line of water mist off his forehead.

Le Tare looked for something along the shoreline and he went from boat to boat as if he knew exactly what he sought. Le Bow called to Le Fidler.

'What is he doing? He has never even been in a boat and here he is looking like he can tell the difference between any two. Lets just grab one, give the owner some money and get going.'

Le Tare walked to a older man who worked on some nets with a large needle and rope thread and he barely looked up as Le Tare spoke to him.

'We look for passage for myself and my three companions. Are you available?'

The man merely grunted a reply that meant neither yes or no. 'I repeat we need passage and we are willing to pay well for your services,' persisted Le Tare.

Le Fidler smiled for the first time since they left the hill and nudged Darion in the side. 'Watch this, Le Tare is getting annoyed, I think this fellow man is going to regret not being more sociable.'

'I know you are busy good sir,' said Le Tare in an over exaggerated tone, 'my friends and I are also in a hurry. If you cannot help can you show me others that will.' He said this last bit so all the ship wrights and mariners around now noticed the conversation.

The man finally looked up and with a scornful voice dismissed Le Tare. 'I do not hire myself out to scum such as you. Be gone or I will take my boot to you.' He lowered his head and continued sewing as Le Tare walked slowly towards him.

'Oh this will be great,' said Le Fidler eagerly.

Le Tare placed his face only inches from the sailors. 'I think you might need a lesson in good manners.'

Before he could finish the sailor tried to push up at Le Tare's chin with the large needle and if he moved slightly faster, would have caught Le Tare squarely and at the very least would have punctured his jaw and mouth. As if expecting the attack Le Tare dodged the strike, grabbing the man by his collar, lifting him high in the air and throwing him into his boat, crashing oars and nets into the water. The man rose again and this time Le Tare did not give him any opportunity. He slipped his huge hand around the man's neck and again lifted him into the air, held him very briefly and hurled him into the shallows of the water onto a large and uncomfortable looking rock. The man's air swooshed out of his lungs and he lay half conscious. Le Tare walked to his boat and drove his sword through its bottom and watched as water bubbled through its hull until it sank half in and half out of the water with the remainder of its contents drifting down the river.

'Now,' said Le Tare to the gathering crowd. 'My friends and I need a vessel and we will pay well for the service. Who here will aid us or do I have to be insistent.'

Three men immediately rushed forward and began espousing the virtues of their respective boats and soon all the boatmen began squabbling over who would be the one to help. While they argued amongst themselves Le Tare came back to the group.

'Let them do the haggling for us while we prepare our gear. Le Fidler, have some money ready to pay them, we want to be gone as soon as possible.'

'And who is going to direct this thing?' he said.

'Why Darion of course, he is the one who has lived near the ocean. Isn't that right?'

Darion took a large gulp of air although in this matter he did have some knowledge but only in small sabot class yachts and he did not know how much advantage that would be. A raging river is different than the subterranean stream from a few days ago or the creeks and lakes at home. They intended to head down stream, and he decided it couldn't be too difficult so he enthusiastically proclaimed he knew all about boats, currents and winds and they should leave as soon as possible.

They paid a youngish looking man and his father what they thought would constitute a modest price for the vessel and explained clearly they would not be returning the boat back up stream and even so, the two men accepted the money eagerly which Darion thought a little strange. If this vessel was the only asset these men possessed, then they sold it a bit too eagerly for Darion's liking. They may think they could recover their craft one night when the troop slept. He told Le Tare of his concerns and Le Tare also noticed their eagerness to sell.

'We will be sailing without a break Darion so they cannot catch us and if they find their boat when we have exhausted our use of it then they are welcome to it.'

'Well I think we should be wary anyway?' said Darion. 'We have just taken all they have and not for a lot of money it seemed a little too easy.'

They boarded the boat and took an oar each, the men clumsily tried pushing off from the shore but their weight lodged the vessel deep in the muddy banks. The sailors around them gathered and took great pleasure watching the novices.

Darion urged everyone out of the boat and pushed it off from the shore and one by one they embarked with Darion lastly giving a final shove and leaping into the stern. He took hold of the tiller.

'We need to have two rowing and me steering and one of us in the bow searching for shallow waters where we may run aground,' he said.

'How do we guess this?' asked Le Bow who looked dubiously over the edge.

'The water is deep here because it travels slowly. As it gets shallower it tends to quicken. I have tied a stone to a piece of rope and if we think it is getting too shallow I will get you to throw the line into the water at intervals and measure the depth of the water and that way we should always find the deeper water.'

The did as Darion asked and believed they were perfectly safe under his guidance. Darion did not feel as confident and after only a few minutes, he exhausted his knowledge of boats and rivers. He kept his hand on the tiller and tried to find the deepest waters and along with the current pulling them south and the strong rowing arms of Le Fidler and Le Tare, they made considerable headway.

'The great lake called Crystal Waters is fifty leagues ahead of us and it is here we will search for the south eastern coast and disembark. We will look for signs of an army travelling at speed and come upon them like thunder and take back our Le Carra. Easy.'

The others nodded their agreement. Even Darion who had no better plan, wanted to exact some revenge on the Tusse for taking Le Carra. He trusted the advice of Le Tare. It made no sense for the Tusse to kidnap Le Carra just to kill her, there must be a more sinister reason and one he swore he would find when he caught them.

The men continued to paddle and slowly they travelled the length of the Silver Streak, not stopping for sleep and rotating the turns on the oars. At Le Tare's orders they stayed close to the eastern side of the river so they could watch the water's edge and the surrounding flat lands for any sign of the enemy. The river bank gave no clear sign of any Tusse as they continued their sail south, although the trees around the river banks meant they could not see far.

They travelled solidly for the rest of the day and night and by next morning they estimated they had travelled over twenty leagues and while the progress was good the men were exhausted. After a few hours the water suddenly gained speed and Darion began losing control of the tiller. He forced the little boat to the side of the river and the men disembarked and surveyed the water ahead.

'What do you think?' asked Le Bow.

Darion could not really work out what could be happening. The river here actually widened and the water pace quickened. Not the bubbling of rapids, moreso glass like and very quick. He could only think someone at some stage built a weir across the river. He threw some rocks as far as he could and saw the water was extremely shallow across the width of the river and downstream for what looked like a few hundred yards. With their deep hulled boat the weir could not be sailed across. It was here the urgent sale of the boat was clear to him. Now he thought about it, by far the largest contingent of the vessels they saw further up the river were flat bottomed pontoons with very few deep hulled boats such as theirs. None of the deep vessels could travel across this part of the river.

'Well they knew what they were doing when they sold us the boat,' he said. 'It is useless with such a deep keel. Let's hope we have travelled far enough south to be ahead of the Tusse.'

They walked up the shallow banks and onto the plains to the east of the river and from here they could see many miles both north and south, however nothing other than a few crops of trees could be seen.

Le Tare walked alone down stream and soon returned.

'A man could walk across this levy could he not?' he asked rhetorically. 'I am guessing the Tusse crossed at this very spot come look to the shore down here.'

They followed Le Tare's lead and soon they came across hundreds of muddied footprints leading down from the eastern shore to the west across the weir.

They took a few steps into the river and while the water rushed over their feet, it could easily be crossed and they found they could walk knee deep without danger. They reached the other side and sat despondently and saw another stampede of muddied foot prints.

'The markings look quite fresh,' said Le Fidler. 'The sun has not had time to dry any of the shore. I would guess they passed some three hours ago at least and so likely during the night.'

As they followed the trail of water the Tusse dragged from the river, they saw instead of moving south as they expected, the tracks actually meandered north again and disappeared into the distance. They crossed the weir again to gather their provisions from their boat and set off after the Tusse with a renewed vigour. Their walk turned into a jog and eventually they trotted at a steady pace, not enough to keep them out of breath and fast enough so they could maintain their speed for long periods before they needed to rest.

The sun set a third time since the battle on the tor and they continued their march now knowing Silver City would be the only logical place the Tusse could be headed. The men stopped behind a hedge of bushes protecting them from sight and they discussed their options.

'They are too numerous to enter the city although I am certain it is there they are heading. They will either try to cross the Land bridge over the rapids or there may very well be another of these levies somewhere north. I think I have a feeling about this. I know whom they seek.'

'The Encalla,' said Le Bow. 'He was the only one who knew of Le Carra. He alone knew who she was and what our plans were, it could only be he.'

'Oh we will pay him a visit that's for sure,' said Le Tare, 'and he better hope his Tusse guard him well.'

The troop travelled with a greater urgency and for two days they followed the clear imprints of the Tusse army. They passed, on the other side of the river, the moorings where they purchased the boat Le Fidler in particular eager to visit the sailors but they could not afford the time.

As they expected there was another weir a few miles ahead and again the Tusse crossed aiming for the gates of Silver City. Le Tare led the march and as they reached a line of bracken he threw himself to the ground, waving the others to join him as he pointed ahead, motioning with one finger for silence.

Darion tried to peek through the bushes when Le Tare quickly grabbed him by the hair, dragging him back out of site with one hand clasped over Darion's mouth. He hit the ground annoyed.

'What was that for?' he whispered when Le Tare removed his hand.

Le Tare ignored him and spoke softly to the others who scattered silently into the grass and bush around them.

'We have found the Tusse and we don't want them to find us. They are more animal than us and have excellent vision and even more so, they have a heightened sense of smell just as some of our domestic animals have. Here smear this on your face and arms, I collected it back at the rivers edge.'

In a sack, Le Tare had collected some of the mud lining the river and proceeded to cover all his exposed skin as well as rubbing a large portion on the fabric of his clothes. Darion followed his lead and soon he resembled some type of ancient tribesman from Borneo, becoming animal-like himself so he could fight the animals who took Le Carra. He felt every nerve ending in his body and the hairs on his arms prickling and stabbing through the mud. As he became more like his prey he began to think in a more feral way.

They could now look through the gaps in the bushes and could clearly see the Tusse army a short way ahead. The enemy strayed casually in and out of clumps of trees, hundreds of them chittering to each other in high pitched squeals and and low groans, rarely staying in any sort of file or pattern and curiously not moving any closer to the city. Their meanderings always seemed to centre around a large cart sitting in the middle of a clearing. It looked like none of the Tusse wanted to leave the wagon's vicinity and if one occasionally attempted to enter, a group of half a dozen Tusse whom Darion assumed to be leaders or at the very least assigned guards, beat them back viciously.

Le Tare also studied the cart and made subtle bird noises Darion could hear answered from across the glade. The Tusse had stopped at a spot a few miles from the gates of Silver City and well hidden from view among the trees and bushes.

Darion was eager to attack however Le Tare did not move, only staring at his enemy for hours on end. The sun began setting when abruptly the cart and a dozen of the larger Tusse moved towards the city. With a few hundred Tusse still chattering in and out of the trees, the men could not follow immediately. The whole time Le Tare did not say a word and remained focused on the Tusse while next to him Darion's stress made him fidget and sweat.

'When will we attack?' He whispered to Le Tare who dismissed him with an upraised palm. The sun had almost set and with its last rays they saw the remainder of the Tusse begin to move, this time straight back towards them. They could only assume the path ahead was blocked or some other change in plan prevented them further passage. As some of the Tusse passed they could now clearly see a group of several more wagons coming from the direction of the city and for the moment their spirits lifted as they hoped Le Carra was among them.

Le Tare decided in his own mind to attack the Tusse and try to reach the carts before the Tusse had time to group for an attack and then head as fast as he could back to the city gates. If their luck held they might survive although he knew the Tusse could out run them. He would rely heavily on the element of surprise. He could not afford the luxury of prudence when every second could mean pain and torture for Le Carra.

As the first of the Tusse came within striking distance, Le Tare lashed out like a darting snake, dragging the unsuspecting beast into the bushes with his hand covering a mouth full of razor teeth. It wiggled and scratched until Le Tare stabbed it hard in the neck dropping it to the ground silently. He did this again and again always taking the straggler until he had quite a large pile of dead Tusse around him. Whether their thoughts were otherwise occupied Darion could not tell but the Tusse did not notice several of their numbers missing. Darion thought at this rate Le Tare could defeat the army on his own but it would take too long. They needed to do something more urgent when a commotion began across the far side of the Tusse contingent. Shouts and screams of pain filled the night air along with a blast of fire whipping one of the larger trees into a red ball, lighting the whole region, showing hundreds of Tusse scattering in different directions. Another blast rocked the south and again the Tusse changed direction and much to Darion's dismay began heading directly for him. 'Come,' said Le Tare dragging Darion by the shoulder.

Darion nearly tripped over a brown flask Le Tare placed against the tree nearest them and he saw it had a type of wick made out of a brown poultice Le Tare lit with a tinder box. The yellow flame licked along the line and all of a sudden raced towards the flask. Darion did not know exactly what the flask contained however from recent experience he knew it would be wise not to be anywhere near it remembering the other two explosions. A largish Tusse bolted past him nearly knocking him off his feet as it looked with wild eyes over its shoulder at the fire behind it when the Le Tare's cocktail exploded in its face killing it instantly and sending a plume of smoke, fire and timber shrapnel across the ground. Le Tare flung Darion to the dirt a split second before the blast and all of the carnage seemed to pass a few inches above his head. When he looked up he could not see any of the Tusse and the wagons stood alone in the middle of the ring of fire. The others arrived from nearby and they all headed for the wagons.

'What was that made of?' asked Darion as he also ran to the carts.

'While you sang songs, Le Bow and myself made some weapons we thought would be useful,' said Le Tare. 'We have some knowledge of incendiary devices, but I will explain later, first Le Carra must be rescued and we must be quick.' The men rushed to the cart and struggled to release the straps covering the nearest wagon. They cut the ropes and threw back one side and let out a startled yelp as the head of a young girl not more than three years old popped out, her hair a tangled mess and her clothes mere shreds. She had huge dark eyes crusted with the salt from dried tears and small clots of blood wedged in her nose and ears. Another head sprung out as if they had popped the latches on a suitcase with too much luggage. A second head followed and then a third, fourth and many more all in the same outrageous state of depravity and starvation. They searched every wagon and each teemed with children but they could not find any sign of Le Carra.

The men looked at each other and decided wordlessly they needed to get these children away from here as soon as possible.

'We need cover,' said Le Fidler. 'The Tusse will return for their meals as soon as they realise our ruse. We must make for the city.'

'We will never get their in time,' said Le Bow. 'I hear them already.'

A Tusse burst amongst them and Le Fidler drove a knife into its belly before it took a step further and its scream seemed to put off any of the others from attacking.

'We have a few more minutes,' said Le Tare. 'They wait for all of their numbers.'

They circled the wagons as best they could pointing the back to each other to give as much protection to the children as possible. 'We may lose the fight men but I will take a terrible toll on these Tusse. Think of these children as you fight and may it give your arm a greater power,' said an enraged Le Tare whose look alone could have smitten a dozen of the beasts in a flash.

Darion drew his sword and the horrors of thinking of what the Tusse would do to the infants and Le Carra steeled his soul. He would also fight to the death and damn everything. He looked into the dimness ahead and he could see yellow eyes appear at the edge of his vision. First one pair and then several and soon the whole periphery filled with a mass of eyes all bobbing and jumping in front of him. The light from the flame engulfed trees gave the whole scenery a macabre look from some distant horror tale.

He tightened his grip on his sword and without warning, the Tusse as one let out a blood curdling scream freezing their blood. Darion waited for the inevitable attack however nothing happened. The eyes around him dimmed and the chattering ceased completely.

A shadow appeared in front of him in the middle of the glade from which issued a rasping voice, creaking out of an invisible mouth. 'We will give you some quarter today if you return our property immediately.'

From behind Darion he saw Le Tare also walk into the yellow glow of the fire and stand imperiously with one hand on his sword and the other on his hip.

'You try to parley Tusse, that is not your way, has someone tried to teach you some courtesy lately.'

The Tusse flinched at the memory of the carnage Le Tare inflicted on them atop the tor.

'This is the last warning. Deliver our prizes or suffer.'

'And I tell you Tusse to heed Le Tare of Mesania. You will be the first one dead in this battle and while your animals may prevail over us you will never see it.' He drew his sword and pointed it at the Tusse who stood a dozen feet away. The Tusse King knew Le Tare would strike and it would be a very close thing as to whether he could escape. He looked slyly around him and without warning threw a large knife at Le Tare's throat and instantly disappeared Le Tare easily deflecting the blade with a lightning whip of his sword.

As if from a prearranged signal the bushes emptied and the Tusse army rushed towards the group like a flock of startled birds. The Tusse had little in the way of strategy relying confidently on their numbers to prevail and seemingly willing to sacrifice an inordinate number of their kind for victory. They were a rabble although one with a single purpose. The survival of the whole out weighed the needs of the individual. Darion feared this pride mentality would be enough for the Tusse to destroy them all.

Although heavily out numbered Darion still felt more confident than when he fought on the tor. He did not know whether his courage or his panic gave him strength but the sword felt firmer and more familiar. He managed to wave it dangerously enough that he nicked quite a few of the rampaging Tusse and even managed to drive them back a few feet. The others fared a great deal better. Le Tare was a blur of energy, driving and slashing his heavy broadsword through the air, effortlessly killing a score of Tusse within the first moments of the battle. Le Bow and Fidler, from years of training, fought well in small spaces against a more numerous foe, swinging and dancing amongst the enemy killing at will. They circled their enemy always changing their positions so as to face the largest numbers and where possible keep their backs to as few foe as possible to avoid fighting on two fronts. The cart afforded them some extra protection and the Tusse continued to die in huge numbers. For the second time in as many days the Mesanians drove the Tusse back, the beasts suffering enormous losses. After only a few minutes the clearing was empty of live Tusse and only the children in the carts and the four friends remained unscathed. Almost exhausted Darion placed his hands on his knees, sucking in large gasps of air as he tried to recover. The others too gulped air and reached for their water flasks as they prepared for the inevitable second assault.

Darion looked at his sword and it was covered in a deep crimson blood, not the type one sees from accidents in the kitchen from a wayward knife, but the deep red that only comes from deadly arterial wounds. The sword notched in several places when it struck the harder bones of the body, the femora and scapula and bits of white bone and flesh dangled from the edges. He felt sick as he saw the dozen or so writhing bodies at his feet. A few looked up at him with the vacant animal eyes, not asking for mercy nor even aware of their mortal wounds, just lying there waiting for who knows what. He looked at his friends who also stood among a pile of corpses, again finishing off the ones who were not yet dead and pushing their bodies to form a wall of dead Tusse others would need to be volley on the next assault.

Le Tare saw the horror in Darion's eyes. 'It is simple psychology Darion and it has to be simple with these creatures. It may stymie their enthusiasm if they see their brethren all dead around them.'

'Or, it might infuriate them, we are not sure,' said Le Fidler flippantly as he casually stabbed at another body he suspected played dead even though its head lay several feet from the rest of its body.

'You seem to be enjoying yourself,' said Darion with undisguised contempt.

'Better me killing them than the other way around Darion. We are at war and we try to survive, remember that, for it is all that matters.'

Darion looked towards the bushes and his heart sank as he saw new movement in the trees ahead. This time the eyes did not jiggle frenetically as before rather they seemed much more ordered and steady and more numerous than before. Everywhere he looked the jaundiced eyes looked back, thousands of them and he resigned himself to defeat.

In a last show of dismissiveness Le Tare again walked to the centre of the clearing and sent a challenge to the Tusse.

'Come if you dare despised Tusse. You will remember this night in your tales for eons to come from the few I will permit to survive. If you do not wish to die this night I can offer you a solution if you are willing to listen.'

The rustle in the bushes ceased until again the branches parted and the Tusse leader entered this time considerably further away than before. 'Speak, Le Tare of Mesania and we may listen.'

Le Tare sheathed his sword and showed his open hands to the trees ahead and each of the yellow dots followed his every movement in unison.

'If you are at all like us then you do not want to die tonight,' started Le Tare with a large pause between sentences. The eyes did not move. 'I have the solution. Let me alone fight your leader. If he wins, and why should he not when he is so mighty and I am nothing, then the rest of us will leave and the battle is over.'

The eyes began darting left and right and the Tusse leader looked nervously around him. Darion noticed Le Tare did not mention what would happen if he were victorious. Darion felt certain the Tusse believed they would win any protracted battle but still thought it. better and easier to replace one leader than risk all their lives and if the leader won then they would also win. The only problem they would then have is what to do if Le Tare won.

Le Bow moved slightly around to the front to see the confrontation, careful to also make sure no Tusse crept up on the carts from the rear. 'Le Tare plays an interesting game of chance does he not?' he said. 'See how he bides for time. Every second we delay the battle is more time for reinforcements to come.' Darion suddenly realised what happened. By setting fire to the trees they effectively sent out a flare to the Silver City and hopefully there would be troops sent out to investigate. The Tusse would be unlikely to attack a large contingent of men when they saw what four were capable of doing and hopefully they would retreat. What Darion and the others did not know was how committed the Tusse were to their cargo.

Le Bow sat cross legged and watched Le Tare. 'The Tusse leader will forfeit his power if he refuses a challenge such as this which means death to him but he also knows Le Tare will kill him in an instant. He is in an untenable situation and he knows it. He has no option. He must fight.'

Le Tare caught the Tusse off guard however he did not reach his exalted position by mere chance. 'I accept your challenge Le Tare of Mesania. First I must speak to my people.' He turned to the bushes. 'If I die and this Mesanian is victorious then I charge you my people to avenge my death as swiftly as possible. Kill these insects and take the carts home to the Niflheim and thereby you keep the honour of the Tusse.'

The Tusse all began gnashing their teeth in excitement, slapping their thighs with open hands, giving off a fleshy applause. If their leader won they had their trophies and if he lost they would still have their feed although they would have to work a little harder to get it. They would enjoy the contest first.

'A masterful stroke from the Tusse don't you think?' said Le Fidler from the other side of the carts. 'I bet old Le Tare didn't think he would say that.'

'Is this some sort of damn game to you lot?' said Darion while searching the trees ahead. As far as he could rationalise events, he believed he would be dead in a few minutes no matter which way the fight went and they still could not find Le Carra.

'Don't worry so much,' continued Le Fidler. 'Le Tare knows what he is doing, we just have to hold out for a few hours and we will be alright, you will see.'

Darion shook his head. Again they stood on the brink of disaster and his friends acted like they were having a pleasant stroll in a park. 'Since I've met you people I have faced death about twenty times and each time you don't seem to give a rats arse.'

Of all the sounds that could be inappropriate at this time Le Fidler and Le Bow made the most outrageous. They both began laughing in peals breaking above the gnashing of the teeth and the slapping of the thighs of the Tusse. 'Rat's arse,' chuckled Le Bow, 'Very amusing.'

The Tusse leader thought the laughing was aimed at him and what pride he possessed as a leader and warrior came to the fore. He leapt into the clearing challenging Le Tare who stood like a rock, his sword aimed dangerously at the throat of the Tusse leader. The Tusse crouched in an animal pose, and began skipping and rolling, first close to Le Tare and then rolling away. He would dive at Le Tare and quickly beat a retreat always probing with a long thin knife appearing in his spare hand. He gained speed with each thrust as he circled Le Tare, each attack probing closer to the Mesanian. Le Tare merely spun on his heel always facing the belligerent Tusse and never taking his eyes off the long sword and knife of the Tusse leader. The crowd left the bushes and Darion could see the incredible numbers they faced. At least five hundred Tusse formed a large circle around the two combatants howling and hooting their pleasure at each of the rolls and dives of their leader.

Throughout it all Le Tare appeared unfazed. He showed no outward sign of worry as he levelled his bright sword at the Tusse, now holding it in two hands the muscles in his arms bulging through his short leather shirt, his eyes dancing in unison with the Tusse ballet.

By accident, or through Le Tare's purpose, Le Fidler saw that somehow they were slowly being squeezed out of the circle as the Tusse moved closer and closer to the action. Eventually all of the wagons, along with the three friends, were spat out of the circle and now they faced the backs of the Tusse.

'What now?' asked Darion. 'We cannot leave Le Tare to the mob, they will rip him apart.'

Le Fidler and Le Bow seemed more concerned with the contents of the many baskets hanging from the wagons and checked the children.

'Well here is how I see things going Darion,' said Le Fidler who picked out a large red apple from one of the many wicker baskets dangling from the carts, and leant on one of the wheels. 'Le Tare will play with the Tusse leader for some time before he kills him and he is doing this so we can make best use of the time he is giving us and plan an escape. Now Darion, with all due respect, you are a liability to us when the fighting begins. I have to watch my own battles as well as saving your life on at least ten occasions and Le Bow is the same. I think you should take hold of all the wagons and head as fast as you can to the city while we three worry about the Tusse. We better hurry I suppose.'

'Are you insane,' cried Darion. 'There is no way three men can fight those numbers no matter how good you think you are. You won't last a minute.'

'Who said anything about fighting. When the moment presents itself we will lead the Tusse on a merry chase in the opposite direction to you. We will save the children and be local heroes and I am sure there are plenty of wenches who would love to drape themselves over us in gratitude. Do not worry, we can outrun a few Tusse any day of the week and twice on Tyr. Now you better get going as I think I can hear Le Tare's signal.'

The only signal Darion heard was a scream of pain from the Tusse leader and a swelling of disapproval from the spectators. If Darion could imagine the ocean having a voice then the noise he heard would be it. The crowd of Tusse chanted in ebbs and flows each new sound more threatening than the one before it. It sounded like the crashing of sets of waves on a beach, a ritualistic sound, and Darion could only assume it signalled the passing rite of the Tusse leader. The backs in front of him swayed to and fro and the beasts teeth began grinding together menacingly.

He took hold of the reins of the nearest wagons and quickly aimed all of the beasts in the general direction of the city. He would not be able to lead them all, so he took a position behind the group and drove them like cattle and the animals reacting and moving quickly and quietly out of the clearing and towards the city which he guessed sat some five to ten miles away.

Le Tare walked to the Tusse leader who lay dead on the ground, a single gash having sliced most of its head and shoulder from the body. He casually turned the carcass over with his foot and searched the angry faces of the nearest Tusse. One emerged from the rest and began laying a challenge to Le Tare when a second came from behind and knocked it to the ground issuing a challenge of his own to Le Tare. A fight between the Tusse started and became more important to the them for the moment than the promised retribution.

Le Tare hoped this would happen. He could not be completely certain but he did not expect the Tusse to have any formal succession plan in the event their leader perished and so being basic creatures, he assumed the only way they would sort out their new leadership was to battle for it and this would be his chance to escape.

The two Tusse challengers tore into each other with teeth, claws, swords and anything else they could grab hold of. The rest of the army appeared to take sides and urge on their favourite with small eruptions of violence in the crowd between competing teams. For the moment Le Tare and the wagons were forgotten as the fight spilled down an embankment and into the trees. The Tusse followed, corralling the combatants, cheering every stroke landed.

Le Fidler, Le Bow and Le Tare met and quickly devised a distraction they hoped the Tusse would be compelled to follow once their leader was decided. Already the fire light from the trees that had burnt brightly until now, subsided and the shadows around them began to merge with the rest of the night.

'We must make enough of a stir to encourage the Tusse will follow us and not Darion.' They scouted a few hundred yards ahead and came back to the trees and crouching and listening to the howls of ecstasy of the maddened creatures.

Le Bow hushed the others and the three held their breath as the brush around them began to shake and quiver. They could hear muffled sounds and the rumbling of wheels. They drew their swords when right amongst them appeared a cart and horse followed by several more and the panting red face of Darion bringing up their rear, a startled and blustered look on his face. When he saw his friends he hung his head.

'Hello Darion,' said Le Fidler casually. 'What are you doing here? I thought that we made other arrangements.' Le Fidler looked at the others and they shook their head incredulously. 'My dear Darion, it seems you back tracked and now follow us instead of the road to the city. This causes some problems as we can expect the full force of the Tusse to be here shortly. Any ideas friends on how to survive the next few minutes?' To Darion, Le Fidler did not seem worried enough. He remembered the Encalla saying Le Fidler had a death wish and he was certain it was about to come true.

Le Tare searched the area and after a short while he walked back to the rest. 'I cannot see an immediate solution. We cannot run with the wagons and certainly cannot fight all the Tusse of the world. I cannot think of an answer.'

Darion regained his breath and had also been thinking. 'We have camouflaged ourselves to stop our scent so we need to do this with the children. I think there are other ways to stall the Tusse. Take the children and hide them among these trees and send the carts off on their own. We can set the harnesses of the horses so they have one of our knives each digging into their sides. That way they will run and keep running trying to dislodge the pain. They also will head in different directions which should split the Tusse forces. If we did then come across any Tusse, they would be a more manageable number and maybe there would be few enough for us to battle. They would take some time to discover their mistake and hopefully we could reach the city. The only problem will be how to keep all of these children quiet while we move.'

Le Bow pulled back one of the tarpaulins veiling the children and gently lifted one out. She was a child of not more than three years old and her pretty face was aged and beaten, all the child light having vanished from her eyes.

'They are very docile Darion,' said Le Bow. 'They barely have the strength to breath let alone cry and scream. We must not fail these children.'

'Or Le Carra,' trailed Le Fidler.

The others, also moved by the state of the children, lifted them one by one from the wagons and checked for wounds. Although extremely tired, the children did not have any serious injuries and they laid them out under the bushes and covered them as best they could with old and torn clothes and filthy blankets. Le Tare scoured the surrounding bushes and found some Verbana which he crushed and smeared over the children's skin and some more on their own as well as some mud and dirt to cover their smell.

They kept two of the wagons for the children and ensured they hitched the others tightly and began moving the creatures to different points where they would be spurred. They removed themselves behind some bushes and covered the wagon as best they could with some brush around them and crouched quietly. Suddenly all around them they heard the trees rustle and the sounds of steel and the slapping of flesh.

'They have come,' said Le Tare. 'It seems they must have found a leader. We must hurry.'

Each man took a dirk from his belt and lodged it, using leather straps, to the rump of the beasts. On Le Tare's signal they twisted the knives which dug deep into the leather hide of the horses, who leapt into the air and took off at gallop screeching as they went. They crashed through the trees and bushes around them and scattered, some to the river and others west and east.

The howling increased from the Tusse who saw their prey escaping and in moments the men saw hundreds of smaller figures dashing out of the green around them and sprinting after the wagons. Alone again they crept out of the bushes and quickly searched the area.

'It seems your plan has worked Darion,' said Le Tare impressed.

'You don't sound like you were too confident,' said Darion.

'Well to be perfectly honest I thought it was certain to fail. It was however superior than my plan.'

'Which was?'

'I had no plan,' said Le Tare flatly. 'So anything would be superior to it. Come on. Let us take these children to safety before they perish and then we can turn our thoughts to our Le Carra. She is obviously not with the Tusse anymore so I guess the Encalla is where we will find her. Although not ideal, I also believe she would be safe for a time. He did not kidnap her to merely kill her. He has other plans which I cannot foresee.'

They packed what they could and began leading the horse and wagon along the thin path back to where they had first met the Tusse. The green around them and the smells of the evening contradicted them still being on the verge of death and Le Fidler became almost jovial.

'I do not know why but I somehow feel quite invigorated,' he said. 'I am on the road again after battle, I have my friends and have just saved the life of many a child who can now grow and prosper. I feel like I could sing.'

Without further discussion Le Fidler began to sing a soft melody whispering through the air and drifting in and out of the trees. The men all looked at each other. They had never heard Le Fidler sing before and were surprised at his gentle and melodic voice. They all knew the tune and often sung it at home. Le Fidler seemed to pour some of himself into the music. Darion felt the rescue of the children mellowed Le Fidler. The maddening firelight in his eyes had vanished and he appeared at peace with himself.

The song trailed off after a few minutes and they all felt relaxed and refreshed although slightly melancholy.

Darion walked next to Le Fidler and spoke so none of the others could hear. 'The Encalla was right about your feelings for Le Carra, wasn't he?' he asked.

Le Fidler looked at the moons as they came over the eastern horizon and smiled to Darion. 'Yes friend, he was correct and I still love her but the love has changed. I saw these children and the looks on their tiny faces and the prospect of what might have been and I knew my goal in life extended farther than merely loving a woman. That is a selfish and destructive goal for if the love is not returned then you are destined to a life of misery and regrets. It is now I know the world needs men like me to be more than just troubadours or whimsical courtiers. They need men to administer justice and seek to help those who for whatever reason cannot help themselves. We can stop this if we try and this is what I will do with my life.'

'You will leave us then?' asked Darion worried he would lose his friend.

'Not yet. First we will return these children to their loved ones, then we will find Le Carra and kill whoever took her and finally we will find your friend Isaac and return him to you. I think that is quite an inventory of tasks for one hero.'

Darion only knew Le Fidler for a short time. A mere matter of weeks and in that time he had grown so close to him he could not imagine spending time without him near. Him and the others. They were like a new family and the thought made him comfortable. The family he knew back home was completely dysfunctional. A father who committed suicide, a mother who suffered her own disabilities and siblings so caught up in their own petty problems they never stopped to see the world around them. Darion felt himself reach a watershed moment in his life. Since he arrived in this strange yet familiar world, he had thought of nothing other than returning home and now he knew this world is where he belonged. Like a revelation the truth dawned on him brightly. He knew he would never return home even if the opportunity presented itself and he would spend his remaining days on Salnikov among his new brothers and Le Carra. He hoped in every fibre of his being Isaac was alive and he too felt this way and the people closest to him would touch his life like theses people touched his.

His determination to find Le Carra filled his veins with adrenaline and he despaired at the delay. He turned to the others.

'I am sensing an urgency. The hair on my neck is standing to attention. We have to hurry and get to the city as soon as possible. Le Carra needs us.' He jogged away and the others followed. They considered boarding the wagons to travel faster however the horses simply could not carry their weight and that of the children as well as the heavy wagon, so they ran along side as the night passed by quietly around them.

'How far is the city? I thought it was closer. I cannot run all night,' said Le Bow. 'And neither can the horses. We have to stop for a while or we will be carrying these children ourselves.'

Le Fidler jumped into the wagon and rearranged the children as best he could and gave them all some more water and tried to clean their tiny faces concern etched all over his face.

'They need care quickly. How much further?'

Le Tare surveyed the region as the sky began to lighten in the east. 'The city lights are still some distance. I think we can reach it within the hour if we push ourselves and the intrepid beasts. The animals look strong. The Tusse may abuse children although it seems they tend their beasts well. We must push on, it is only a few more miles.'

They rolled the wagons and themselves through some small ravine of rocks towards a thin forest. They could hear the river gushing to their left and their spirits rose considerably as the morning broke in a gust of chilled air from the south brushing their faces and refreshing them.

The sun broke the horizon just as the trees around them rose steeply then abruptly ceased, exiting them into a gentle gradient leading onto acres of short cropped grass lands speckled with small black bushes. The polka dot carpet of green and black led almost to the gates at the southern end of the city, appearing as thick line in the distance, its glass walls a halo crowning the lands around them.

They stopped to admire the view when Le Tare let out a gasp. They all followed his pointing finger. It looked as if the bushes dotting the grass ahead swayed in the morning breeze. They studied the area further and noticed a greater regularity in the movement and they now realised what saw. All around them, and tapering off into the distance, the black heads of Tusse, thousands and thousands of them headed to the city. The longer they looked the more Tusse appeared, and instead of the green being speckled with black dots it was the dots taking over the landscape.

'I did not know this many Tusse existed in the entire world,' said Le Tare. 'It seems the Silver City will soon be under siege. Do you think we should try to warn them?' As he ceased talking, horns and bells pealed in a scream across the plain, answered by others, all coming from the walls of the city in the distance. A surge of cavalry charged from the gates in long wide columns, the tips of hundreds of spears shooting the morning sun across the grasslands.

'I think they know,' said Le Fidler. 'We cannot go this way, that is for certain.'

'But it is where Le Carra surely is,' said Le Bow. 'And the children cannot make another trip.'

'I suppose we could rest for a time and see how the battle pans out,' said Darion. 'It may be a swift victory for the Silverarians and we can still go this way.'

'Perhaps,' answered Le Tare. 'The problem is even if they win there will still be a retreat of sorts and we could expect a few thousands of Tusse to come back this way. No, we cannot remain where we are and we are too few to come on them from behind. We need to go back a ways and try to reach the city from further west and the children will just have to be a little more stoic,' he said this last while brushing the back of his hand lightly against the cheek of the nearest child to him. A little girl whom he guessed once wore a bright pink dress now a dirty rag only half covering her.

They began moving the wagon when a scream leapt from the voice of the little girl Le Tare just touched. The comfort she felt from Le Tare shattered by the face of the Tusse who leapt onto the side of the wagon. Le Fidler pulled his sword out in a flash and cleaved a line from the head to the waist of the Tusse, nearly slicing him in two when another and another jumped into the clearing, their notched and rusty swords cutting the air.

'There are hundreds of them,' shouted Darion. 'Run!'

Le Bow slapped the rump of the horse and it hopped ahead and down to the grass lands, the wheels gliding on top of the green, leaving only shallow gutters. The men followed slicing at the Tusse as they ran trying to find a way to escape without running into the back of the army ahead.

'We might be able to turn west after we are on the plains proper and this way we can miss the army ahead,' said a gasping Le Bow.

'And head straight into this other army we didn't notice.'

They looked up despairingly and heading east they saw another sea of black, at least two thousand strong also aiming for the city. The Tusse they duped earlier met with others of their kind heading east and the men found themselves caught in a pincer grip of black monsters. A battalion of Tusse broke off from the main part of their armies and darted towards them in the now typical fits and starts peculiar to their attacks. They did not bother with scouts or van guards or seemingly any preparation. They merely saw their superior numbers and attacked with no plan or method making it difficult for Darion's men to conjure a strategy to withstand it. To Darion they resembled locusts and it seemed today their numbers alone would be more than enough to scourge the land.

The safety of the city looked impossible to reach as they were caught between two huge contingents of the enemy. They stopped and looked at each other in a somewhat resigned fashion.

'I do not want to seem to be a negative type but I think it is likely we are about to die,' said Le Fidler.

'I tend to agree,' said Le Tare. 'I will take some comfort from the fact I will kill a few hundred of these things before I die.'

'I won't,' said Darion drawing his sword. He felt it must look like attacking an elephant with a pin. 'But I am not as concerned as I normally am when I am at death's door. I must be getting used to it.'

They grinned in resignation and circled around the wagons as the tide of black broke on them.
The armies of light will strive against the

evil from the West. Great hearts will be found.

Great Ones from foreign parts will rise above

the rest. It is these who will shape the future

of the world.

Jharnell 36/7-11
Chapter 11

Wodan and Isaac glided across the inland sea at what Isaac considered to be a dangerously fast rate. Wodan however seemed to be enjoying himself, laughing as the wind whipped through his white hair streaming behind him as he stood on the ski he and Isaac shared. The land appeared a stationary bump on the horizon as the water they rode on rushed past them quicker and quicker as they gained more momentum. Isaac looked over his shoulder and the hulking forms of Minar, Kolin and Arad, followed him, the latter balanced precariously on the ski Wodan provided for the three Aeserians. Isaac felt the contraptions seemed more akin to wind surfing than skiing and the flat form of the inland sea allowed them to move like mercury running off glass.

Each of the skis had its own sail filled to the brim with the warm wind coming from the north and a long pole attached to the centre holding both the sail and the grips for the passengers. The ski housing the others looked to be carved from an entire tree and Isaac smiled at the look of terror on all their faces, even the mighty Kolin. His friend's discomfort made Isaac feel more relax. As the skis neared each other, Isaac could not help himself. He held the mast with one hand and waved to the others.

'Hands out of your pockets men. Nothing like the wind in your locks and the briny to stir the adventurous juices,' he yelled, the wind whipping the words from his mouth and throwing them at the other ski.

'What did he say?' asked Minar.

'Something about his buttocks being shiny,' said Arad as he looked strangely at his little friend swinging bravely around the mast.

Wodan called angrily over his shoulder. 'It is actually quite difficult to control one of these and you make it more difficult with your idiotic dancing. Now stop it at once and concentrate, we are coming to the southern shoreline and I would prefer not to crash.'

Isaac had never experienced anything like this world. He sailed on a sea he could best describe as an enormous water bed with viscosity and density enough to be able to carry the weight of a man without him sinking so long as he kept up some momentum. They skidded along the top of the water for nearly five hours and the constant standing and shifting of weight to maintain their balance tired them all, except Wodan who never looked any different from one day to the next.

As Wodan promised, their journey ended quickly as the horizon rapidly became a jutted coastline and soon a small clear bay could be seen. It did not have waves or sand it just seemed the end of the inland sea arrived and they could merely alight from their vessels and walk straight onto soil and rock.

They sat exhausted rubbing tired muscles. They ate a cold meal as none had the strength to light a fire. The wind turned sharply from a northerly to the north east and the most objectionable odour Isaac ever smelt blew into their faces, making them gag. It smelt like rancid and fetid water housing any number of decaying beasts rotting in it.

'Well Wodan,' said Isaac. 'This is a pleasant experience.' He covered his nose with his hand, fumbling in his pocket for a rag to cover his face. Minar and Arad also began coughing and spluttering..

'What is it?' asked Arad. 'I cannot stand to breath this air.'

'You are at the edge of the swamp lands to the east of Mesania,' said Kolin. 'The smell does not travel as far as the mountain. It affords the people a natural defence from the west, as the swamp is very difficult to pass. The fumes would eventually overcome you and you would add to the decay.'

'I assume this is not our path then,' said Arad to Wodan who stood unaffected by the stench.

'I must admit I forgot how acute your olfactory senses are. It was actually my intention to attempt to cross these marshes and come to Mesania rather quickly. That would seem to be impossible now. We may have to take a more circuitous route and come on the monolith from the south. Gather yourselves men as I think time is of the essence.'

The others stood gingerly, stretching as best as they could. They intended to drag the skis onto the land proper when they turned to the water's edge and saw them disappear with only their packs left lying on the ground. They turned to a smiling Wodan when suddenly he went rigid and his eyes glazed over. Isaac began to rush over to him when a gentle palm on his chest stopped him as Kolin looked with understanding.

'Watch Isaac,' he said. 'Wodan has a great many powers we know nothing about however I have heard of this before.'

The fit seemed to released its grip on Wodan who jolted forward. 'Ah very interesting,' he said regaining his balance and calmly continuing to check his backpack, tightening the straps and slipping it over his shoulders.

'What is very interesting?' asked Minar. 'What have you just seen?'

'It is very tiring to continually explain myself,' said Wodan offhandedly.

'Well it is pretty tiring trying to second guess you too old man. If you would spare us a moment then we can all be more the wiser and not pester you. We are a team after all are we not?' said Isaac.

'Yes we are a team Isaac and for the first time I agree with you. It is important we work as one and the easiest way for that to happen is for you to do as I tell you. What just happened is I eavesdropped on a message directed at a fellow named Le Frag. You would never have heard of him so it would be useless to explain the message to you. It was about a woman named Le Carra who you may meet soon and about another called The Encalla and you haven't heard of him either. Happy? Would you like to know more? Well bad luck. It is not the time to tell you more. Suffice to say we are changing our plans slightly and we will head to a place called Silver City and we need to get there quickly. That is all you need to know for now. I do not need an argument just action. There are some nasty creatures abroad and we need to deal with them for the greater security of the northern realm. Does that sound interesting enough to you all?' Wodan's impatience made them prepare to leave in a hurry.

'Hey Arad,' called Isaac. 'Have you got any of that generous spirit left. Wodan needs some. I think he left his in a thimble somewhere. You are undoubtedly the most contrary old fellow I have ever met.'

Rather then get angry Wodan smiled at Isaac and a weight seemed to lift off his tired forehead. 'Isaac your impudence is your most attractive trait. Which I suppose says much about the rest of you.'

As they prepared to leave, two horses appeared from behind them, one trotting to Wodan and much to Isaac's delight Snaps bouncing over to him. He immediately began drooling buckets over Issac's legs and arms. The men did not bother to ask how the horses arrived.

'You big clumsy sods need to walk. Help you get fit,' said Wodan while mounting his beast and trotting away quickly followed by Isaac and the others.
'Where is she?' asked The Encalla of the tall beast like figure standing as a silhouette against the city lights behind it. 'She better not be spoiled.'

'Where is our fee?' replied the Tusse leader ignoring The Encalla's threat.

The Encalla searched the mind of the creature in front of him. Although a treacherous animal, on this occasion he read it as being true to its word and would provide Le Carra once he received his fee. He did not want to engage in any small talk with the creature. He gave a low whistle and a dozen nervous men came out of the shadows each dragging a horse and cart.

They dropped the reins in front of the Tusse circled the wagons and lifted back the covers smiling crookedly.

'They are all here?' he asked menacingly.

'Count them if you do not believe me,' said The Encalla. 'one hundred children, still alive and quite healthy although I have gagged their mouths so they do not cause you trouble. Are you dining here, it could get a little noisy and the guards are out tonight?'

'No, we will take them to the Niflheim, the months have been cold and our stocks are low and this treat will brighten even the most miserable of my kind .'

'But my levy first of course,' said The Encalla, this time as a demand.

The Tusse snapped is gnarled fingers and from the night around them dozens of Tusse emerged and two dragged a prone figure between them and dumped it on the ground. They turned, took the carts and vanished into the night once more.

'She better not be damaged,' said the Encalla.

'She is alive, that is our bargain, we had some fun first but she is not dead.' He turned and washed away into the darkness as The Encalla bent to look at the face of the unconscious Le Carra. He lifted her onto his shoulder, carrying her to another cart and uncovering a small lantern and shined it on her face. She is very beautiful he thought and watched in amazement as the bruises marking her perfect face turned purple, then brown then yellow and eventually faded completely. The scratches along her arms and legs closed and peeled leaving a soft and smooth visage, weeks worth of natural healing taking seconds.

'Le Frag will reward me beyond even my dreams when he arrives my darling. Until then you will be my guest.' The first time he saw Le Carra when she arrived with her companions he sent a psy message to Le Frag and the message he felt in return was one he could only describe as pure joy. Le Frag would journey immediately to Silver City and claim his prize. Once The Encalla sensed the Tusse had secretly arrived, he sent a second message through the psy waves reaching Le Frag almost instantly. He did not mention the fact she was slightly soiled from the rough handling of the Tusse. Le Frag did not need to know and it would be a few days before he arrived and knowing her recuperative powers she should recover sufficiently. Again Le Frag's psy waves expressed unbelievable happiness although mixed with confusion. Le Frag often told him of his dreams to destroy Mesania and replace its governance with his own and he was incredulous the central figure in his plans, the hidden princess, could be wandering the world without a thousand strong escort and dropped right into The Encalla's lap. The Encalla immediately sensed Le Frag turning from everything he was doing and heading his way causing The Encalla to smile broadly. He knew significant riches or at the very least a southern dominion or Fiefdom would be his reward when Le Frag came into his own.

As he turned to move secretly back to the city, he felt a huge hand grip the back of his cowl and neck and slowly lift him off the ground. He kicked his legs wildly and directed an ineffectual psy blast at the mind of his assailant as he rose high above the ground.

'What is it do you think?' asked Arad to his friends as he studied the shocked face of The Encalla.

'I don't know,' said Minar. 'It looks quite nasty and it certainly has no respect for this woman.'

'And this one is a beauty,' said Isaac as he stared longingly at the still prone body of Le Carra. 'She is sensational.'

'She is a princess,' said Wodan. 'The most beautiful creature in creation and I am happy to say she is spoken for.'

'That would be right, the good ones always are,' said Isaac sulkingly.

The five men chatted to each other oblivious to The Encalla who stared wide eyed at the giants around him until he sputtered some words. 'How could this be. You do not exist.'

Arad dropped the Encalla who landed painfully on the hard ground and letting out gurgling grunt.

'Well if I don't exist I suppose I could not be holding you,' said Arad. 'Wodan told us about you and I have to say I took an instant dislike to you and that is very rare as I used to be quite generous to everyone. You seem to be the most abhorrent beast I have seen. The thought of trafficking in young children is offensive and we will deal with those Tusse shortly after Great Kolin has passed a judgement on you.'

Kolin appeared in front of the Encalla who shook so violently Isaac thought he would pass out. The Encalla had heard the myths of Kolin, who escaped the slaughter of Mesania and travelled the world looking for new homes. It was always myth and treated as such by him and here the very creature in the stories, twenty feet tall and towering over even the largest of the giants around him, looked him squarely in the eye.

'Spare me Kolin, I can help you,' bleated the Encalla.

'Why should you be spared? Are you a good man who simply took a wayward path or have you been manipulated into some misdeeds or are your family ransomed so you must kill to free them. All these would allow me to offer you some quarter. Your problem is Wodan has given us some advance warning about you. You steal, coerce minds, kidnap and murder and for treasure only. Your arguments would need to be better.'

At hearing the name of Wodan, the Encalla froze completely. Here was a name all Omarins knew. A name they gave their greatest ever warrior. Their Saviour, the champion of the battle a thousand years ago. His disbelief and confusion number his mind 'Does this mean the Gathering is nigh?' He asked.

'Yes it is,' said Wodan stepping in front of The Encalla. 'You however will not see it.' Wodan walked calmly towards a paralysed Encalla and drove a knife into his belly twisting it and breaking the handle off leaving the man grasping and pulling at the hole.

'You will die slowly. You have forced me to meddle in domestic affairs, which I am loathe to do however I am afraid on this occasion you are such a repugnant creature I believe the world is better off without you. Make your peace quickly with your gods as you go to meet them shortly.'

They stood silently, watching the man slowly stop grabbing at his stomach and sag to the ground until he stopped moving altogether.

Isaac could not move either. He never saw a man die before and the violence bolted his feet to the ground. He was shocked and stunned at the disregard Wodan showed his enemy and part of him felt he needed to say something.

'Wasn't there another way?'

'You saw for yourself the contents of the carts Isaac. Children. He consigned children to the horrors the Tusse would inflict on them. Cattle to eat and toys for their carnal pleasures. Little children Isaac. He forfeited his one life and I make no apology. Now lets rescue those infants and return them to their parents.'

Isaac could say nothing in reply. Wodan made the decision and on this occasion at least Isaac could not disagree. No one should enslave children. 'Hadn't we better hurry then,' said Isaac as he stared into the dark after the retreating wagons.

'We can take a little time. There are other meetings needing to happen first and we must tend to this lovely vision called Le Carra.' He and Isaac lifted her gently and placed her on some softer grass and began to bath her head with a wet cloth. Isaac staring wistfully at her. He thought she must be in her mid twenties and her white and pure skin did not have a blemish or mark on it from her trials with the Tusse. Her long and defined black eye lashes fluttering and the damp wetness of her dress clung seductively to her silky and firm body. Isaac could not take his eyes off her.

'I think I am in love,' he said to the others who gathered to look at the woman. Kolin bent on one knee and softly brushes some hair from her face his huge weathered hand having an unexpected dexterity and gentleness.

'"She is a beautiful as my Rainier,' he said as his mind drifted back years before, the pain gouged into his face. Le Carra slowly flickered her eyes open and when she saw the enormous face of Kolin she began backing away, mouth open until she backed up against a tree, her horror worsening as she saw the other giants peering at her.

'Don't worry about them,' said Isaac as he moved between Kolin and her. 'They look much worse than they actually are. In fact they are not too bad at all when you get to know them. A bit clumsy and oafish, and I suppose they are also a bit quick to anger, and pretty noisy and really a bit opinionated however overall, I would say they are not a bad bunch.'

Kolin gave a dismissive huff and turned his back while Minar brushed Isaac away with a slight touch of the back of his sledgehammer hand and bent close to Le Carra.

'You will have to forgive my little friend here my lady, he is the most disrespectful creature I have ever encountered. He is quite right in one matter though. You have no need to fear the Aeserians, we have come to help you and your people not to harm you.'

Le Carra looked under creased eyebrows unconvinced she had found friends and she searched for an escape. The horrors of the Tusse still rushed through her mind and she jumped at every shadow. She could still feel their touch and their putrid breath as they pawed and ogled her. Wodan came up next to her and she did not cringe from him, even when he took her hand in his.

'I know what you have seen,' he said. 'You don't need to know how. Know only child that I can ease your fears.' He kept talking softly to her while stroking her hand and moved his touch to her temple and she closed her eyes her body sagging as it relaxed. She covered Wodan's hand with her spare.

After a few minutes she opened her eyes again and touched Wodan's cheek. 'Thank you,' she said as she pierced him with her brilliant blue eyes. Wodan smiled sheepishly and became quite embarrassed as he stood nervously and jumped a few feet back.

'That is quite all right young lady. My pleasure. Now if you can stand I will make some introductions and then I am afraid we will have to leave. There are some quite interesting events about to unfold that I would like to see before we intrude to rescue those children. We do however need to be cautious. Remember that in this part of the world the Tusse are rarely seen and I can assure you no-one with any sense would ever dream of seeing the legendary Aeserians walking tall and calm amongst the residents. It would be enough to scare more than half the city to death. We will bide our time. The children are relatively safe for the present and we can intercede if my guesses are not awry.'

Wodan introduced himself to the wide eyed Le Carra, and then the Aeserians one by one, Le Carra's eyes became wider and wider still with wonder, especially when she met the mythical Kolin to whom she stood and bowed. Kolin was visibly moved.

'There is no need to bow to me lady. It is I who should defer to you for we know who you are.' To the surprise of everyone, especially Le Carra, Kolin stood straight and bowed low. 'When this is over we will lead our races to peace and communion with each other.' He smiled and then quickly removed himself as if he too were embarrassed.

Isaac jumped from foot to foot with impatience, waiting for Wodan to introduce him. Wodan saw him from the corner of his eye and began walking away. He turned finally 'Oh yeah that one is Isaac. Don't worry about him.'

Isaac sneered at Wodan. 'Thanks a lot,' he said to the departing and laughing old man.

At hearing the name however Le Carra became extremely interested. 'That is an odd name in these parts and curiously enough my friends and I have been searching for one called Isaac for the last few weeks. I assume you are he. My betrothed will be very happy to see you.' She walked to Isaac and threw her arms around him. 'He will be very happy indeed.'

Isaac's confusion showed on his face, not sure what she meant and enjoying the hug too much to care. Eventually he broke the embrace. 'And who is your betrothed, I don't think I know him. These people here are the only ones I have met since I arrived.'

'Oh you know him and he did warn me about you. A 'ladies man' is how he described you and a lady should not trust you too much and now I see why. You are very handsome just as Darion said.'

'Darion!' cried Isaac. 'Where is he?' He looked behind him expecting to see Darion jump from behind a bush. He turned back to Le Carra, 'And you are the one Wodan told me about.'

'I am she, for it is true I love the Rok Darion and I plan to marry him as soon as it is practical. He has become a great man among my people in a very short time. The Jharnell foretold it all and I guess you would be in the book also for I see you being a great man among your people.'

'Oh he is in the Jharnell,' said Wodan from afar. 'There are a couple of paragraphs about a smart arse who will be hanging around annoying everyone.' Isaac fumed at Wodan for making him look like a fool in front of Le Carra although he could not stay angry long with the rest of his companions laughing so hard even Le Carra chuckled as she took Isaac's hand in hers and patted it soothingly. 'You can tell friends immediately Isaac, they are so comfortable in their relationships they can tease with impunity. It is not often so. I think they like you enough to know they cannot give offense.'

'I'm glad you think so. Tell me all about Darion and what he has been doing.'

The group marched off after the wagons with Isaac taking position next to Le Carra who gave him a complete history of the overthrow of Mara and the return of Mesania to the people and the Great Rok Darion, the uniting force. Isaac could not believe his ears and constantly interjected with plenty of 'who Darion?' as Le Carra told her story. Even Kolin, Arad and Minar were locked into the story, enjoying hearing of the battle with the seeress.

'She sounded like a dangerous creature this Mara. It was right to kill her,' said Arad flatly. 'I would like to meet your friend. He is brave and intrepid.'

'Well the Darion I know isn't although I have to admit this world of yours brings out the adventurous spirit that is certain.'

They moved at a leisurely pace for an hour the ground becoming cold and hard as the night set with the two moons still trying to break the horizon. They passed through the forest and further south they saw the sky brighten with yellow flames as a portion of the trees in front of them leapt into life and a cacophony of noise rumbling towards them.

'Ah it has started,' said Wodan. 'Quickly I do not want to miss anything.'
What maketh a hero? One who acts out of

instinct rather than consideration. It is one

who places others first and the self last. It is

one who will battle injustice and wallow in

the smiles of the persecuted as they are freed.

Jharnell 38/21-25
Chapter 12

The first of the Tusse swept a lazy stroke at Darion's head which he easily avoided, jabbing his own sword into the heart of the creature. 'One down nine hundred and ninety nine to go,' shouted Le Fidler as he cut a swathe through the Tusse in front of him.

They arrived like a colony of ants and ignored the very minor infractions the four men made in the front ranks. The fight would all be over in a few minutes thought Darion. It would be impossible to repel such numbers even if they had a hundred men. He changed his mind suddenly as he thought the Tusse more like locusts than ants and he was satisfied with the comparison. The creatures razed the land leaving it barren after they passed. He felt certain there would be very little alive between here and the Niflheim by the time the army returned and they would certainly leave four bodies behind stripped of what small valuables they had. The whole situation annoyed Darion. He would soon die and just when he found this amazing woman to share his life with as well as the fact he left a very mundane and boring existence to now be a champion of a new world with lots of friends and possibilities. He again deflected a blow and then another and then another and all the time he could feel soon his strength would soon be gone. He quickly scanned how the others managed and although much better at sword craft than himself, they too struggled to contain the huge numbers of Tusse attacking them.

The piles of dead bodies grew and still the Tusse came and each time there seemed to be more to battle. They would be dead already except many of the Tusse were wary of Le Tare and gave him a wider berth than the others.

On top of the noise of shields and swords the loud blaring of a horn stopped the attackers and they drew back from the heavily panting men. The crowd parted and the new Tusse leader stepped forward, shorter and stockier than the last one and possessing a presence his predecessor lacked. In a guttural voice he spoke to both Darion, his friends and the Tusse army.

'We play no more games. The children are ours. You will die now.' He pointed his sword and the army leapt at the men literally frothing at the mouth. Darion felt the full force of their attack bending him to his knees as he tried to ward off a rain of blows, some striking causing blood to seep out of several gashes in his arms and legs. The noise of battle became deafeningly as he made peace with himself and wished Le Carra all the best as he prepared to die.

In an instant the black bodies of the Tusse around him thinned until no more attacked him. He stood gingerly and through blood soaked eyes he saw why. Three enormous men stood in front of him and drove in on the Tusse, each of their sword swipes killing a dozen at a time. The Tusse leader panicked and tried to run, as a blow from the biggest of the giants cleaved him in two, the top half flying twenty feet in the air and landing with a sick thud. The rest of the Tusse gave up any pretence of fighting, dropping their swords and running as fast as their stumpy legs could take them, bumping into each other and scampering over their fallen countrymen. Within minutes the entire field emptied of Tusse with the remnants fleeing towards the city to link up with the larger forces besieging the Silverarians. Darion and his companions now had time to see what saved them. Three of the biggest figures they ever saw, were calmly wiping blood from their swords on the bodies of the fallen Tusse.

'Aeserians,' said Le Tare in a hushed voice. 'They live yet.'

'Indeed they do,' said Kolin as he presented himself to Le Tare, whom he assumed led the group. 'You fight well for creatures so small and it is as I remember a thousand years ago.' Le Tare raised his sword assuming the giant was challenging him but an open hand from Kolin made him lower his weapon.

'Our battle was an eon ago master Le Tare and I do not come to fight you now. If I wanted you dead I would have merely sat and watched the Tusse do it for me. We still have some thousands of the enemy around us and it would do little good for us to destroy each other while they live. I come to aid you and I also bring some friends.'

From behind the giants Le Carra and Isaac emerged and a shout went up from men as they rushed to greet them Le Bow engulfing his sister along with Le Fidler and Le Tare while Darion and Isaac met in the middle of a battle field the noise from the plains in front of them ignored as the two men shook hands.

'Now lets get something straight right from the beginning,' said Darion. 'She is mine. You always get the girl and now it is my turn. I want you to back off and give me a go for once.'

'I don't know Darion. She is amazingly beautiful. And we have already struck up a bit of a relationship.' Darion's jealousy showed on his reddening face making Isaac laugh. 'Don't worry, she wouldn't want me even if I tried. For some unknown reason she actually is in love with you. She has done nothing except talk about you for hours. It drove me crazy.'

Darion smiled and gave his friend a bear hug and they both patted each other on the back, the relief at finding each other almost making them both cry.

'Oh how touching,' said the voice of Wodan behind them. 'Warms an old man's heart.'

'You,' cried Darion. 'I didn't know how we were going to find you. Do you know what you have put us through?'

'Well let me see. I have made you a hero of the realm of Mesania. You have won the heart of the most desirable creature on this entire planet and for Isaac he has made these mountain of men move to assist in the greatest moment in the planet's history and possibly the entire fate of the free universe can now be decided and in doing so he begins a reconciliation of two races who have hated each other for a thousand years. I think I have done a pretty good job.'

'Well that makes one of you who thinks so anyway,' said Isaac to Wodan as the two continued their animosity. 'He is just as cantankerous as ever.'

Le Carra broke free from her brother and rushed to Darion and the two kissed long and passionately with Wodan making the others turn their backs to allow them some privacy, especially Isaac who seemed to be enjoying himself.

'Lucky sod,' he said as Wodan grabbed him by the ear and moved him away. The others lifted the children from the carts and cleaned and fed them from what provisions they had. Le Carra began moving from one child to another ensuring they did not gorge themselves on food and water although sadly she saw only a few had the strength. Within a few minutes the children noticeably improved and their pale faces began to regain some colour. Darion looked at Le Carra and marvelled. 'She will make a good mother to someone,' said Wodan. 'She may be the matriarch for the entire planet so long as there is one left after we finish our job.'

'I see you are still talking in riddles,' said Darion. 'Care to explain yourself. I am sick of surprises and I think I am entitled to know your plans.'

'Yes well you are all probably entitled to know what is happening.' He gathered the group together and they all stood nervously around Wodan, each searching the area around them expecting more Tusse to fight at any moment. 'This will come as some news to you Omarins or Mesanians or whatever you prefer to be called. The Aeserians have risen in the East and as we speak they have traversed the island and are crossing the Ice Mountain and are ready to lay siege to their ancient homes in Mesania. Their goal of course, is to wipe out the 'Invader' as they call you and re occupy the mesa. Your people Le Tare have no idea what is coming and their will be fierce battles ahead and an extraordinary loss of life.'

Le Tare and the others let out a gasp of shock and immediately drew swords and faced their giant enemy who also rose to strike. Wodan interfered to stop any blood shed. 'Just you all wait a moment. I have not travelled half way across the universe to get to this point only to see you all kill yourselves. There will be plenty of fighting before the end and I would prefer it against the real enemy than each other.'

'Be quick Wodan, who is the enemy if it is not the ones I look at,' said Le Fidler.

'Put your swords down,' bellowed Wodan and immediately all of the weapons flew from the men's hands, landing in a pile twenty feet away. 'I do not have time for this. Use what little brains you have. Le Tare, would those who are your enemy rescue you from certain death and you Aeserians, would I lead you into a trap after all the leagues we have travelled. Be sensible. The answer to both is NO, so behave yourselves.'

The men sat back down still not entirely sure of the strangers opposite them. Kolin spoke first. 'I will speak for my brethren here. We have befriended Isaac, who has been sterling and true throughout. If he is typical of the race then I will trust these new friends.'

'I agree,' said Le Tare after a short pause. 'Darion has been the Rok and if his friend Isaac for whom we have travelled through peril to find, says the Aeserians are friends then I trust this judgement also. Are you satisfied Wodan? Then let us talk of this enemy you speak of because all I see at the moment are the Tusse beasts gathering anew. If we are not needed here we will rush to defend our homelands and face these new threats.'

'Well spoken both of you,' said Wodan sounding like a proud parent whose child decided to share for the first time. 'We need to be sure we know who the real enemy is. The leader of the Aeserians has taken his people on a pilgrimage across the island to attack your people and we cannot let this happen. That is why we have Kolin with us. His greatest challenge lies ahead. It is for you Kolin to stop Hammer.'

'I am ready Wodan. These are my people and not his. He has led them with folly. Have we learned nothing from the past and we will simply repeat the horrors of death from war. I too once had no love for the Invader however a thousand years has given me much time for thought. I conclude death from war is not the solution when a negotiated peace can be found. Unfortunately this sometimes requires sacrifice and Hammer will be making that sacrifice I assure you.'

'As it should be then,' said Wodan. 'However, the great threat I speak of comes not from Hammer. Nor the Tusse. It comes from the deep west. It moves as I speak. I feel its presence, its dark thoughts always bent on destruction of all things prosperous. It knows my thoughts also, always intent on my destruction also. It is my enemy to be sure and it is also the enemy of all things good. Already it corrupts this place. It is no co incidence the Tusse are abroad and test the strengths of their neighbours. The enemy I speak of lives in their minds and drives them to mis-deeds and he laughs at their subservience. All of the carnage you see around you is only the appetiser for the end game which he has for me alone. The Raqnarok, The Gathering of the Gods for it is then I will fight the creature whom I fought in front of the Mesa an eon ago. It is the closest he has ever been to destroying me, yes Darion and Isaac, even closer than the night in the museum. I remember his fell breath, his evil thoughts. He grabbed me by the throat. He dropped his sword and bared his fangs and preparing to devour me, and then we would all have been lost but it did not happen. From somewhere around me a blessed surge of power rushed through my body and I drove the creature away from me allowing me to escape. I did not have time to ponder events until I cleared the forest and the beast was a light-year away as I jumped through a picture of Earth I finished only days before.

The beast would take time to reacquire me and this allowed me time to contemplate what had befallen. There could be only one answer. I have told you I exist as a compilation of energy bequeathed me from my brethren. They have all given me some of themselves and made me almost indestructible and this allows me to fight the evil. But here I stood on the brink of despair with the universe precariously balanced on a knife edge and the champion of the universe about to be defeated. My only conclusion was one of my people sacrificed the last vestiges of himself and gave it up to me thereby bolstering my strength to repel the beast. It is the only answer and I morn the loss as there are only a few of us and now there is less. You people have answered a great riddle for me. A great good has left the universe and as the Balance must be maintained then an equal amount of evil also perished and this is what has weakened the beast sufficiently to slow its progress.' Wodan looked old again to the companions as the grief of his loss sat heavily on his shoulders. 'You do not morn this loss like I do although you probably should. Greatness is hard to achieve and one of the Greatest is gone. I know who it was.' Wodan voice drifted as if he now spoke only to himself. 'Mighty Allaan. It was always going to be you. You were the most selfless of us all. I will not let you down.'

Wodan rose to his feet looking at the group, some of whom like Darion, were patting at their many cuts with what rags they found, while the giants stood hands on hips with grim faces. '"You are the Light that must end the Darkness. We cannot fail but what constitutes a win? As Isaac has said, should we destroy the beast then will not Good also be destroyed to maintain the balance. I do not know the answer and still we must fight and what will be, will be. Let us return these children to their families so they might enjoy some moments of peace and joy before the end arrives.'

The troop gathered the children and searched the road to the city. As the battle raged in front of them, each member of the group mulled over the words of Wodan. They could do nothing other than view the events below from the relative safety of the rise they occupied. The children were still in danger until they could get them to the city and they could not afford another fight and endangering them further. They would have to wait and see if the Silverarians claimed victory and then attempt to enter the city. Should they not prevail they would try and work their way back to Mesania hiding most of the way. A depression sat over them and they did not know which path to take.

'I suppose we have come too far not to finish what we started,' said Darion. 'I have a great many friends here now and I wouldn't like to lose any. It seems however that Wodan gives us lots of problems and not too many answers. What do you think Isaac?'

Isaac did not seem to hear.

'What is the matter?' persisted Darion.

'I think I might have an idea,' he said distractedly.

Arad sat besides Isaac smiling 'Does it hurt?' he asked.

'Does what hurt?' said Isaac.

'Your head. I think it would not be often that it had an idea harboured inside it. It seems to have caused you some discomfort.'

Minar slapped Arad on the back making a sound as loud as a thunderclap. 'Good one Arad. I like that, you are getting nearly as witty as myself. Tell us then master Isaac of your idea.'

'Not quite yet, I need to put some flesh on the bones of it'

Wodan looked at Isaac curiously but said nothing.

The Aeserians continued to banter in a relaxed fashion cleaning their weapons as they sat, one eye firmly on the Tusse armies ahead, ready to wage a brutal war on them if they strayed too close. Below them the field turned black with bodies. The Silverarians marched and rode from the city gates in large numbers and relied on their cavalry to out flank groups of Tusse and they would run them through with their long spears and lances and move to another. In this way they killed resistance in whole quadrants of the battle field and demoralised the Tusse as they went.

The Tusse lost motivation quickly and within ten more minutes they broke off the attack on the Silverarians and moved in a great mass westwards, disappearing in a blur of dust and a cacophony of yelps and screeches.

'Me thinks they give up too easily,' said Kolin. 'I believe the city was only a target of convenience and once it showed resistance they move off to where they have been ordered to go and that can only be Mesania.'

'It is so Kolin,' said Wodan. 'The paths past Silver City are the quickest to access the northern realms and they were willing to sacrifice some numbers for expediency. The beast drives their minds of that you can be sure.'

'We need to overtake them or at least find a more rapid track to Mesania and reach the mountain before them or we will be cut off ourselves. First these children need repatriation with their mothers.' The troop began moving towards the city when Wodan stopped them.

'I do not think the people of the Silver City will be quite prepared to see a squad of Aeserians marching up their garden paths. I suggest you skirt the city until you are on the north western borders and make yourselves scarce. We will meet up with you tomorrow morning as I am sure the marshals of the city may want us to stay for the evening at least to explain how we have their children with us.'

'But what of speed?' asked Le Tare.

'I know some routes that are fast. Do not be overly concerned,' replied Wodan.

The group separated and soon the Omarins, Darion, Isaac and Wodan with the wagons of children reached the battlefield. Immediately a hundred Silverarians surrounded them and led them back to the city gates they left only a day earlier. The gateman whom Darion and the group encountered when they left the city now greeted them as a Captain of the Silverarian Army. He stared incredulously at the wagons and the many cuts and bruises the men wore.

'Identify yourself,' said the captain who, looking closer, recognised Darion. 'I see you have found some friends, one I assume to be Isaac, master Darion,' he said smiling broadly.

'And Hanna I see you are not merely a gate keeper sir,' replied Darion.

'Indeed we wear many different titles in the city master. In peace I keep gates and in war I am Captain of the Southern Reaches. I see you are covered in the wounds from the cursed Tusse. We need to bathe these or they will fester. But what brings you back through a war zone if you have found your friend?'

Darion moved to the wagons and threw back the covers. 'I believe these belong to you.'

The captain and the other men leapt off their horses and ran to the wagons searching the faces of all the children hugging and petting them and gently lifting them all out. The Captain kept searching and eventually lifted a tiny yellow haired bundle who burst into dry tears when she saw her father. After a minute the Captain turned to Darion. 'We thought them lost. They disappeared days ago and none knew where or how. The Encalla told us they were spirited away to the north and we sent many men to scout the area but we could not find them. We guessed the Tusse caused this and we now know from the attack that it is true. We never thought we would see our beautiful children again. You will be hailed in the city as the greatest of heroes.'

The others helped the Silverarians with the children and a rider rushed ahead with news of the return of the children and thousands of people swarmed to the gates. The towns people lifted the Mesanians on their shoulders, acclaiming and hailing them. One lady crushed Wodan in such a tight bear hug, his cheeks became red and looked ready to burst. Joyous laughter continued as grateful parents claimed their child and celebrations commenced throughout the city. Food, music and dancing spontaneously appeared on every street corner and the taverns freed up their casks to all who entered. The chanting of 'Victory, Victory,' could be heard from thousands of mouths as the defeat of the Tusse and the miracle of the lost children was celebrated by all.

After some hours the festivities quietened and Hanna asked them to go with him to the city hall to speak with the Chief Marshall. Many thousands of people gathered to hear the leader speak and to see their northern and ancient brothers from Mesania. Le Tare filled the role of spokesman for the group and spoke eloquently, careful not to mention Wodan by name and certainly did not mention the Aeserians at all.

'You will forever have the gratitude of the peoples of Silver City,' said The Chief quietly to Le Tare. Le Tare looked closely at the Chief of the Silver City. The man stood as tall as himself with greying shoulder length hair and trimmed beard. He did not look like a typical city administrator and he sensed a power behind this man. The formal dress covered a broad chest with sledge like hands poking out of the thick purple robe draped with gold leaf and sash. The Chief raised his arms to the people and in a louder voice, 'Hail and salutations to the brave people of Mesania who have delivered our loved ones back to us out of the darkness.' The crowd cheered and threw pieces of confetti, the meeting hall a blizzard of coloured paper. 'We have searched for our children for a week now. We thought them lost and suspected the foul Tusse were somehow responsible. Never did we think the beasts would rise again in such large numbers. We have heard only brief rumour of them for a hundred years and now they decide to mobilise. It will be their greatest mistake.'

The Chief who seemingly did not have a name other than 'Chief' grew serious and angry as his speech to his people became more passionate until he worked himself up into a rage startling Darion and the others.

'We call a War Council immediately. The city will be locked down and all will be armed. A full third of the fighting force of Silver City will ride with me in one days time. We take few stores and ride light for battle will be nigh. The rest will secure the perimeter and none will be able to come or go. Let the scouts be sent to all the surrounding tenements. Bring everyone to me that wishes to come. We go to destroy the Tusse once and for all.'

The people cheered and punched fists into the air and hot streams of people thundering back to their homes to gather weapons. The outrage the Silverarians felt at the theft of their children burned bright in each of them, rekindling their ancient animosity and hatred of the Tusse. Darion did not want to be the Tusse when the men of Silver City found them.

Everywhere the group of friends looked movement caught their eye that had nothing to do with parties and celebrations. The whole city rumbled with preparations for war and for a moment it seemed they were forgotten. A few minutes later however The Chief appeared in front of them.

'You are most welcome to come with us friends. I am sure you would like to see the end of the Tusse. We will ride them down and destroy each and every one of them well before they reach your homes. Their terror will never return to these parts.'

'We would love to help Chief,' said Le Tare, however we must get to Mesania before even the first Tusse crosses the borders of land or the city will be unprepared. We know fast routes and we will tell the Mesanians an army of Silver is on its way and we will send our people to greet yours and together we will crush the monsters."

Wodan shook the Chief's hand. 'Beware people of Silver City, the world of evil is greater than the mere Tusse and it beats its path to Mesania as we speak. There will be dark days ahead.'

'Then we will face them together,' said the Chief defiantly, 'and when this is all over we will make a treaty lasting forever. We have become estranged as a peoples and that should never have happened. Travel well and when next we meet it will be with the Tusse crushed under our feet.' He began walking away when he hesitated and returned taking Le Tare by the shoulders and kissing him on the cheek. He disappeared leaving the seven friends alone in the square, surrounded by tables full of food and wine.

'I have to say that was a damned quick decision,' said Le Fidler. 'One minute I was eyeing off a pretty young thing who naturally was overcome by my bravery and charm and then next she has bolted to do who knows what to the Tusse.'

'You have to understand,' said Wodan. 'Although the Tusse have not bothered these people for a long time there always existed an underlying fear the creatures would return. They awaken quickly to protect their own. I did not expect these events to unfold but I am glad they did. We all need to mobilise against the evil. I am sure it is the beast who drives the reappearance of the Tusse and it would not expect to suffer a defeat so early in its campaign of terror. It will not like this at all and maybe it will sew a seed of doubt in its ego. It is a small first up victory and an important one for both of us. Well done everyone now lets get to the mesa and avert whatever the Hammer and his army have prepared for the Mesanians.'

They left immediately walking through the streets of Silver City, commotion everywhere. Their fame spread to every house and although few stopped for long conversations nearly everyone they passed at the very least called a heart felt 'thank you' over their shoulders as they dragged heavy swords and armour or horses towards the southern gates.

Darion and Isaac walked with Le Carra and Wodan. 'We best meet up with Kolin and the others quickly. There are too many people about and the sight of some Aeserians will only worry them further. They have enough to consider without us complicating things,' said Wodan.

'And how do you propose avoiding two fighting armies between us and the mesa?' asked Isaac a bit too impudently for Wodan.

'Well I did think of leaving you tied to a tree somewhere to distract them. What did you think I would do, walk side by side with the Tusse and Silverarians?' Wodan looked contemptuously at Isaac. 'Or maybe I might pick a less well travelled route I know allowing us to perhaps avoid all contact with anyone until we reached the forest again. Sorry I didn't consult you before we set out Isaac. It won't happen again.' Wodan stormed off muttering under his breath.

'I could almost see the dark cloud over his head. You sure know how to press his buttons.' said Darion.

'Yeah well he annoys the hell out of me too sometimes. He treats me like the village idiot.'

'You are the village idiot,' came Wodan's voice back to them from around the corner ahead.

Le Carra held Darion's hand tight as Le Bow and the others caught up.

'Are you strong enough for rapid travel sister?' asked Le Bow.

'I think so, I just want to get home and help our people. It would be terrible if anyone from either side dies when the real enemy is yet to show itself.'

The group reached the western walls of the city and passed without challenge. All around them they could see signs of the army mobilising. Hundreds of riders on sleek imperious black horses galloped passed them and met with others who spoke briefly and then headed to the southern gates where they would rally with the remainder of the forces.

Once past the gates Wodan's horse appeared hitched to a bush and he mounted and rode ahead leaving the rest with the gurgling noises of the Silver Rapids swimming in the air around them. The path they walked on, snaked through sporadic bush land preventing any further views around them. Wodan appeared out of the brush to the north.

'I have scouted quite a fair way ahead and it seems the Tusse have crossed the river and follow its course and will come on the mesa from the south east and possibly between the Southern and Guardian Sentinels. We will cross the river also and drive west to the trade routes and speed north and eventually back to the Southern Sentinel also, hopefully well before the Tusse or what will be left of them after the Silverarian army catches them.'

'Sorry to be a pest Wodan but did you see how fast these Tusse move. We couldn't overtake them on foot in a million years,' said Isaac.

'Which is why I have provided horses for us smaller folk. The Aeserians can cover the distance quite easily themselves without steeds. It would however give me no end of pleasure to watch you foot it for the whole journey, unfortunately I do not have time for fun.'

Five black horses and Snaps emerged from behind Wodan with each ebony horse having a white streak through their manes. Their streamlined thoroughbred looks made them appear fast even when stationary. Each possessed smooth tough muscles stretching along their flanks and hinds, and tails plaited and embroided with small beads of what Darion knew to be diamonds.

Le Carra went to the first who nuzzled her neck and she deftly leapt bare back onto the animal who stood frozen while she got comfortable. 'Come, they are willing beasts and most beautiful. They will bear us wherever we wish.'

The Mesanians managed to climb the steeds easily with Wodan floating unto his while Darion slipped and slid until he dangled clumsily across his. 'It has been a long time since the farm days,' Isaac said to Darion. 'This is Snaps. We met a few days ago.' Isaac climbed aboard Snaps more easily, the horse leaving a patch of drool soaking on Isaac's leg.

'I would have thought a farmer would have been more deft on a horse,' said Le Tare knowingly to Darion who gave him a crooked smile.

'We were too poor for riding steeds and only owned working beasts for the fields,' he said convincing no-one.

'You will tell us your secrets when you will,' said Le Fidler. 'For now lets away to Mesania, it boils me to think our people are at war without us.'

'Farmer eh?' said Isaac quietly to Darion. 'You will need to tell me more.'

'Maybe later. For the moment shut up while I concentrate,' replied Darion as he began slipping off his stallions back.

The horses stood their ground looking at each other with patience until they were certain the men sat safely on their backs after which they trotted to Wodan. 'Lets find the others and move out,' he said.

They met Arad, Minar and Kolin a few miles north and after a quick dry meal and summary of events they moved off. Kolin took the lead with Wodan and Le Tare and Le Fidler adopting his customary position covering the rear. They travelled for much of the day and saw no sign of any of the Tusse or indeed any other living thing and although they knew what lay ahead they began to relax.

'What is your idea?' asked Darion as he brought his horse up to Isaac.

'Oh nothing really, I just thought if Wodan could create all these worlds just by painting them then why can't he make one that will house the beast and then we can all go home. Seems pretty easy to me but I can't say anything to him. Crabby old git would just tear me down. Why don't you ask instead?'

'Well OK but why do I feel like I do when I am about to go to the dentist?'

Darion and Isaac jogged up to Wodan, followed by Le Bow, Le Tare and Le Fidler who heard the end of the conversation. Le Carra caught a bright yellow butterfly and began counting its dark spots, ignoring the men for a moment.

'Wodan,' started Darion. 'I have been thinking about the beast. Why can't you create a new world just for him, so he can't escape?'

'That's a good question Darion shows you are thinking a bit.' Darion looked at Isaac who raised his eyes to the heavens and cursed under his breath.

'All the worlds I create have some basis in reality. This beast can fly and the vacuum of space worries him not. No, he would search the planet for a couple of hundred years, make sure I was not there and then continue his chase. I have pondered that very idea before and it gives me nothing. But keep trying all contributions greatly appreciated.'

Wodan jogged ahead smiling to himself knowing full well the content of Isaac and Darion's conversation. There was something about Isaac he really did like and it was a shame they would all probably be dead in the next couple of days otherwise he might actually get to know him. But he sure enjoyed tormenting him.

'Boy I can't win with him can I?' said Isaac sulkingly.

'Don't worry too much I think deep down he does actually like you,' replied Darion.

'How deep have you got to go? What do you think Le Carra, your a woman and have a better sense of these things. Does the old goat really hate me?' asked Isaac.

They looked over their shoulders and they could not see Le Carra. They only spoke to Wodan for a few minutes and in that time they somehow separated. 'She's gone,' shouted Darion and immediately the others swung around and galloped in different directions calling Le Carra's name.

'This cannot be happening again,' screamed Le Bow.

Wodan brought his horse next to him. 'I cannot see what has happened. She is a princess and there are many jealousies out there. We must be quick I sense danger is around us.'

The lands they now entered transformed from the green they left surrounding Silver City, to a much more rugged territory. Outcrops of rock, clusters of trees and ridges of dirt covered the land. They could only see a stone's throw in any direction before something blocked their way and now their frantic search quickly separated them from each other. Darion and Isaac crossed a large hill dropping into some tress and scrubs and they found themselves alone for the moment.

'This is madness,' said Isaac. 'We have all just run off without thinking. We need to have a plan.'

Darion scratched his head and his eyes, wringing his hands together as if he were drying them with a towel. He could not believe what had happened. Twice now he lost Le Carra and he chastised himself for not being more vigilant. He knew Isaac was right. He needed to start thinking straight. Riding his horse off randomly could not possibly help anything.

They rode back to where they first discovered Le Carra missing and they could not see any of their fiends.

'This is not good,' said Isaac. 'If I were the enemy I would be attacking us individually right about now.'

Darion's rage built to a crescendo. The people in this world did not seem happy unless they were killing each other?

'Bring them on, I have had enough.'

Dismounting, they led the horses slowly back the way they came, retracing their steps and stopping every now and then to examine the ground around them. They didn't really know what they expected to find. They knew any clues to Le Carra's disappearance would be found in the area they last saw her.

The hard ground did not offer any solutions. Even the trampling of seven horses and three Aeserians left little mark on the on the rocks and compact sand. After a few minutes Isaac saw something.

'Look here. Tracks leading both to and from where we last saw Le Carra.'

They walked in a crouch, the reigns in one hand and their heads almost touching the ground so they could spy any changes in the direction of the tracks. 'I think we now know she didn't just merely trot off somewhere and get lost. This looks to me like she was kidnapped,' said Isaac.

Darion didn't reply being too intent on the scratchings in the sand. From the markings he knew the Tusse were not responsible. Their chaotic nature would have created too much noise and the horses would have sensed them. He new only a human could do this and that worried him further. His stomach tightened at the thought. They reached some hedges of spiny brush where the tracks seemed to separate. One heading north and the other south.

'What now?' asked Isaac.

'I'm not sure. It could be one path is the kidnapper moving towards us and the other when he escaped. Or there could be more than one. I don't know. We have to follow them. You take the south track and I'll take the north.'

They split up, Isaac remounting his horse as he could see his path went quite straight for some distance until disappearing behind some trees.

Darion remained hunched over and moved slowly as his path travelling over some harder ground making it even more difficult to follow. He passed the rocks and reached some softer ground clearly showing the tracks recommencing. He mounted his horse and dug his heels into its side, trotting next to the tracks while at the same time unconsciously unsheathing his small sword. The person he chased did not seem to be on horseback, although may have one hidden somewhere. The tracks changed to clear drag marks and Darion broke into a sprint as he felt time evaporating around him. He burst from a cluster of trees into a clearing and saw the limp form of Le Carra lying across the saddle of a horse and a man struggling with the stirrups obviously also trying to mount.

Darion did not waste time in parlaying or explanations. He leapt towards the figure who turned to face him, a curved sword in its hand stopping Darion a few feet from Le Carra.

'Who are you?' asked Le Frag calmly. 'I don't recall you from Mesania, are you from the Silver City? I usually like to know the names of those I kill.'

Darion did not answer and lunged at the man, swinging his sword dangerously close to Le Frag who dodged then rolled to the side, bouncing effortlessly back to his feet an evil grin on his face.

'You don't like conversation I see,' he said. 'Then you can die quickly.'

Le Frag knew how to hold a sword. As with all of the Omarins, he attended structured lessons as a teen and these continued into his youth. He became adept and could defeat those he trained with ease. When he started his worldly travels he often needed the skills he learned in both defence and attack and no-one ever bested him. He immediately ascertained from the grip of this new enemy this one rarely if ever vied with swords and the clumsy swipe only confirmed it further. He stood now firmly, his legs slightly bent balanced on the ball of his rear foot and flat and sure footed on his leading leg. This should only take a few seconds he thought and he had to be away quickly lest Le Fidler or one of the others who could fight found him. He knew the justice they would allot would be swift and deadly.

'Before I kill you answer me one question. Do you want your head severed and thus die quickly and relatively painlessly or I can stick you in the stomach and you will die much slower although you will linger perhaps hoping beyond hope you may survive. In the end you will be just as dead. I leave the decision to you."

Darion stood still the sword held tightly in his hand. A few weeks ago he knew he would be trembling in his shoes. Now however he stood calmly and defiantly. Whoever this person was who stole Le Carra and left her dangling like a shot buck was not going to have his way.

'You talk too much,' said Darion as he slashed confidently at Le Frag's head. Just briefly Le Frag found himself off guard and he managed to avoid the blow, the wind of the attack brushing through his hair. As he regained his balance Darion again attacked and Le Frag this time deflected the blow with a deft flick of his wrist and the blade harmlessly missed. His repartee took a chunk out of Darion's shoulder.

Blood burst through his shirt and splattered in the air. He ignored the pain in his arm. His pain at the thought of Le Carra being taken to who knows where with this man, made a cut arm seem meaningless.

Le Frag attacked again and Darion met his blow with his own sword crossing them chest height and both men were inches from the other's face their noses almost joined as the sweat of fear and excitement dripped off their temples. Darion felt Le Frag's other hand moving and instinctively knew it held a knife. He broke the hold and rolled away, his jerkin scratched by Le Frag's hidden dirk.

He regained his feet and mentally strained to find a weakness in his opponent. He knew he couldn't win a fight with as skilled a swordsman as this man. If he could just survive long enough for the others to arrive then he may save Le Carra, even though he would probably die. It was not nobility driving him and he knew it. Simply, he would give himself freely if it meant this beautiful woman would live. He knew the depth of his love and for a second he amazed himself. 'Finally I found what I need and no-one is going to take her away from me.' He believed he had only thought the words, but they hissed out of his mouth with such venom Le Frag broke off his assault and suddenly felt unsure of himself.

It was no slack jawed country boy facing him now. He saw a man who fought with absolute commitment and knew this often out weighed any lack of skill. He decided he would end the battle now before this stranger gained any benefits. He had to get Le Carra away.

Darion eyeballed his foe and the two circled each other with a renewed respect. Le Frag with a permanent grin etched on his face and Darion's face blank and dark. Le Frag drove directly at Darion's heart and rather than try to deflect the blow Darion dropped his whole body flat to the ground and Le Frag overbalanced and tripped forward. Before he righted himself Darion jumped to his feet and sliced at the back and arm of Le Frag cutting the sword arm to the bone and tearing a gash across his whole back.

Le Frag let out a scream mixed with disbelief and despair as he saw the battle turning. Surely not after all his work, when everything neared fruition would he lose. Ignoring the pain he dropped his knife and swapped the sword to his good arm and swung again at Darion. This time the blows did not have the same power, the wounds sapping Le Frag's strength. Le Frag rallied as best he could with blood streaming down his flanks. He swung again and again, each time Darion jumping out of reach and blocking and parrying enough to ward off the blows.

He felt his opponent becoming desperate and if he could stay out of reach then he knew Isaac would arrive at any moment to his rescue. Darion saw the blood fanning down his enemy's back and arm and he felt a power in him he was both ashamed of and exhilarated by.

Le Frag weakened and with his last reserve of strength he rallied for a final assault. His left arm was not as strong as his right and although all swordsmen could fight with either hand, he knew he was now disabled sufficiently for the contest to be more even. He struck again and again at the head and then the body of this stranger who jumped back too quickly for impact, the air swing sapping his strength further. He broke off the attack and sucked in huge gulps of air. Being the aggressor failed him so he changed tactics.

'A lucky blow and you think yourself clever,' rasped Le Frag. 'You do not know with whom you are dealing.' He sidled towards his horse and Darion followed at a safe distance. Le Frag intended to force the stranger into attack rather than merely defending his own blows. Every attempted strike he knew confidently he could deflect even with one arm and each time he knew this clumsy enemy would offer and opening he could exploit.

Darion watched carefully as the other reached the horse and struggled to mount, one hand insufficient to hold both the sword and the bridle. For a moment he lost some control. As he tried to mount the horse moved and the sword slipped out of his hand dropping to the ground with a puff of dust.

Darion took his chance and leapt at the now defenceless man knocking him too the ground his sword edge resting against the man's throat. The two glared at each other for a moment before Le Frag spoke.

'What now? You are a hero. You have captured the great Le Frag one of the most wanted criminals in Mesania. What now? You will have to kill me of course because I will kill you the instant I have opportunity. I doubt you have the capacity to kill me. Can you kill?' Le Frag's grin widened with each second Darion hesitated. 'You hold a sword awkwardly and are none too comfortable in close quarters. A true warrior would have already killed me so I suspect you are not trained. What will you do?' Le Frag did not panic. Not yet. He knew he was right in one aspect. If this man were a trained soldier then he would already be dead.

'I do not kill people Le Frag no matter who they are and your name means nothing to me. All I know is you hurt Le Carra and it doesn't take a soldier to rally when loved ones are in danger. I will take you to my friends and if you are who you say, then I am sure they would have heard of you.'

Darion kept the sword at Le Frag's throat, dragging him to his feet when the bushes behind him parted and Isaac and the others came bounding through. The moment they reached him all bar Isaac stopped and stared in amazement at the prisoner.

'Le Frag,' gasped Le Tare. 'You were supposed to be dead.'

'And so I am,' said Le Frag as he drew another blade from his jacket and stabbed at Darion. Whether providence looked at Darion at that moment he could not tell but at the same moment as Le Frag drew his blade Darion dropped his sword enough so the thrust bounced off the hilt. Le Frag brought his hand down for another strike when Darion drove his sword straight into Le Frag's chest, piercing his heart and killing him instantly.

Darion stood over the body, all the colour draining from his face. It was one thing to kill the Tusse, who seemed almost animal in both body and soul, and another entirely to kill a fellow human being. He could not believe what he had done. He let the hilt of the sword drop from his hand as Le Frag also fell into the dirt, the dark resin of blood seeping out of the hole in his chest.

Darion fell to his knees retching into the sand as Isaac and the others rushed to Le Carra. Le Bow lifted her off the horse and drew a wet cloth over her brow and lips, listening for her breathing which was shallow and regular.

Wodan arrived along with the Aeserians and it was quickly obvious what happened. Wodan and Isaac placed their arms around Darion, helping him to his feet Wodan giving him a nip out of a flask he carried which shook Darion back to his senses.

'Is he dead?' he asked Le Fidler who bent down over the body.

'Sure is, dead as dog poo,' he said 'A good thing too I warrant. Le Frag is a fiend Darion, had you not done such a brave deed then he surely would have made off with Le Carra. He must have known Le Carra's secret. It is the only answer. The Encalla contacted him through the psy waves and he appeared, no doubt, to make her some type of consort to gain him power back in Mesania. He deserved to die Darion, you did all our nations a favour.'

'Well it is a favour I wish I could retract because I never meant to hurt anyone.'

Wodan placed a sincere arm around his shoulders. 'Darion we are at war and in war men die. You may have saved many lives with the extinction of this one, we will know soon enough. Come let us bury him and be done with it. Go to Le Carra she will need you.'

Darion knelt by his betrothed and held her hand, gently stroking it until she woke, her eyes radiating their own heat as the others told of how Darion rescued her.

'You are forever saving me my love. No greater hero could any woman marry.' She kissed him softly as he helped her to her feet and while every one told him he was a hero he felt the emptiness of a coward. He knew his first taste of death would never wash clean from his mouth.

Two days later they came upon the southern reaches of the forest. They could not see any Tusse so they assumed the Silverarians caught them although they sensed an eerieness in the trees around them immediately.

'There is oddness here,' said Kolin to the others as they rejoined the southern road they had skirted for the last few days.

'It smells of death,' said Le Fidler.

'You may be right,' said Wodan. 'Look yonder.'

They watched a mist rising in tiny spires ahead and they knew it came form the Southern Sentinel and the surrounding buildings. They broke into a trot and a few hours later came across the first of the buildings they left a few days earlier, now completely razed. They began searching for survivors but curiously there was no trace of anyone either dead or alive. They moved slowly each man with a sword drawn as they picked through the rubble. They reached the Sentinel and the thick iron clad timber doors had been flung to the ground broken and split. Wodan and Le Tare went inside for a few moments and returned.

'They are all dead, there is crimson on all the walls and floor. The people must have retreated into this Sentenil and fought valiantly to the end against an enemy too strong There are giant hands at work here,' said Le Tare

Before old enmities resurfaced, Kolin made himself the conciliator. 'It was many lifetimes ago we fought each other and now Hammer has placed us all in jeopardy. We must forget the past and fight together. '

'It is not us who need the convincing, perhaps you should tell your Hammer that,' said Le Fidler threateningly but Kolin did not retaliate.

'I agree master Le Fidler. I will be dealing with him personally,' said Kolin.

'Then let us away as I might have a few words to him myself,' said Le Fidler.

'Then we need to be quick as the last of the sun's light bounces off the spires of Mesania as we speak. The group urged the horses through the forest, the Aeserians now at a run to keep pace and they split through the forest like a fire, pushing their horses through their fatigue as a dark cloud of danger settled into each of their hearts.

Wodan suddenly stopped, raising himself on his stippups and staining both ears and eyes.

'To Mesania,' he cried. 'The Raqnarok has begun it is time to face the end of the world.'

Wodan dug his heels into the side of his horse and it leapt ahead, the others following. They galloped for two hours and eventually spat out of the forest, the mesa stark in the hollow in front of them. The Aeserians stopped running and dropped to a knee as they gasped their air and stared incredulously at the mountain, the tall, brightly lit spires stretching to the sky as the star light radiated off its facets.

'It is as beautiful as we were told,' said Arad.

'But it is under siege as we speak,' said Le Bow.

As they looked at the mountain they could see red bursts of light on the mesa's roof, some so bright they lit the now dark sky in flashes of brilliance. They watched for a few minutes when Isaac began peering through the night to the east, each star burst making him more and more ponderous.

'We have a problem,' he said 'Look east.'

The next explosion of light showed clearly a vast army moving across the plain out of the eastern forest towards the mountain, black ants quickly filling the concave valley like running water.

'Tusse,' whispered Le Tare.

'And thousands of them,' said Le Fidler. 'Lets hurry or there will be none left for us.'

Charging down the incline, heading for the main entrance of the mountain they kept eyes on the Tusse swarming from the east and clearly now they could see a second army almost at the base of the mount. Kolin pointed as he ran. 'It is the Aeserians, they have arrived.' Hammer's army assailed the mesa from below unaware of the the Tusse threat. Only Wodan was looking westwards to where he knew the true enemy would arrive.
Level heads always prevail. The impulsive often

win the battle but lose the war. Remember in the

dark days of the Raqnarok victory comes

from places unexpected. Look for it or it may

pass you by.

Jharnell 42/12-16
Chapter 13

'Where is that traitor Le Frag?' asked Hammer to no-one. For an entire day he searched for the informer and could find no trace. He called Ragnor aside and quietly gave him the job of searching for Le Frag, Ragnor being the only other of his people other than himself who knew of the little man's existence and Hammer felt certain Ragnor would not be sharing the information with any of the others on the threat of his considerable wrath.

The Aeserian army moved deep into the forest, avoiding the 'Homeland Sentinel' as Le Frag called it. The tower stood tall and smooth jutting out of the forest and darting straight to the sky. Hammer recalled the last conversation he and Le Frag had. 'Avoid the Sentinel or Mesania will know that you are coming. Divide the army and enter the forest at night, with a portion attacking the Homeland Sentinel, some travelling across to the Guardian Sentinel while yet another can beset the Southern Sentinel. It should only take a dozen or so of your men at each of the Sentinels. You must leave no survivors who could relay the attack back to Mesania. They will not expect your arrival, particularly at night. Your Grosses must destroy any of the small settlements around the Sentinel. The remainder of the army should be able to quash any resistance from the forest dwellers and secure the whole western side of the mesa through to the eastern forest. The fighting should only take minutes and you then have a rear guard to protect any counter assaults that may eventuate from both east, west and south."

'The logic is sound Le Frag,' said Hammer. 'You have to date been useful to me. You may live to see another day.' Hammer, in his own fashion, gave Le Frag praise although couched it in terms making it clear to Le Frag his place in the greater scheme of things. At the bottom of the hierarchy. Hammer did not want him to have superior designs. He did not see Le Frag after that meeting.

Hammer led his army to their predetermined targets and soon received reports from his scouts advising the Sentinels had been defeated. He led the fight against the Guardian Sentinel himself and found little resistance. Some of the enemy chose to flee, overcome by the sight of the Aeserians. These they tracked down and either killed or held them captive in the topmost rooms in the tower for later use. He left a body of men to guard the newly acquired Sentinel and returned to the south with the rest.

Like a vice grip, the army reformed at the south western side of the forest and ahead stretched the mighty mesa its beauty stopping all of the Aeserians as the stared in wonder. Afternoon colours gave the rock an orange hue and its shadow covered all of the lands stretching east until the darkness of the farthest ring of the forest blurred in the distance. Clearly on the top of the mesa they could see the Spires of Mesania reaching skywards indomitably, the resemblance to their own structures back in Salnikovia not lost on them Some could not move, struck by the magnitude of the view while others realised the enormity of their task confronted them.

Ragnor came close to Hammer. 'The Mesa looks unassailable. How in Kolin's name are we to attack that.'

Hammer did not answer. He did not need to justify himself to Ragnor or anyone else. He planned the assault with precision and he felt confident. As a general, if he stopped and explained himself to everyone who asked, they would never achieve anything. Suffice to know the army would follow him especially after the incidents with the Serpents, the Aeponysis and the Sprites. They would follow him off a cliff if he so ordered.

He did worry however why Le Frag had deserted. His concern stemmed from the knowledge that this Le Frag proved himself to be a totally unscrupulous creature and may decide to turn himself back to the side of the Omarins. If that happened, then the war may be longer and more costly than he anticipated.

He examined his plans in his mind one last time. He had surprise as his greatest weapon and he needed to maintain advantage at all costs. He knew specifically where the ancient viewing ports could be accessed and Le Frag assured him the Invaders did not know of their existence. It was through this shelf he would send a slice of his force. The remainder he intended to use as a distraction to avert attention from the real assault.

He knew well the simple rules of laying siege to a castle or town and he intended to extend these to the mesa. Cut off their supply to the outside world with the intention of starving them to surrender. He would show this standard tactic to the Invaders. They would see a force below making camp intending to use known siege strategies and this is where their eyes would be turned, assuming incorrectly the attack would be a long one.

Large catapults had been carried in pieces from the boats and these he directed to be constructed in full view of the mountain. The machines stood twice the height of the Aeserians and the engineers believed them powerful enough to reach the flat top of the mesa. Hammer did not really care whether their catapults could reach or not. It gave a necessary legitimacy to the entire assault to have the machines present and this would also assist in camouflaging the true point of entry.

His men transported hundreds of pounds of rancid meats and vegetables which he intended to fire to the top of the mesa, another standard siege strategy of trying to promote disease to further accelerate a surrender. While the fools are looking outwards the attack will come from within. The only problem he could foresee is locating exactly where the ancient entrance is. Le Frag often boasted of the fact he knew, and now he was gone. He would have to rely on the sparse information Le Frag proffered. He said the ledge face was covered in rocks easily removed by strong hands and allowing an entry into the bowels of the mountain. Victory would be swift after which he decided to find Le Frag and kill him as a first order of business and he would also take the hidden princess as a vassal to himself thereby keeping the rest of the Invaders subservient and compliant. He smiled openly. It was such simplicity.

The Aeserians began their march to the base of the mesa, emerging from the forest calmly with swords drawn, covering the ground quickly and efficiently, encountering no resistance. He called a halt when they reached the final plain leading to the mountain's base and here he dispatched his gross of battalions to form a wide front. The engineers moved through the ranks laden with the timber for the catapults.

The chequered plain of ploughed fields occupied most of the land around the mesa, some replete with green vegetables and others lying fallow, awaiting the new seasons sewing. Hammer ordered the fields behind them to be set alight ensuring he spared some for the feeding of his own troops. This gesture firstly announced his presence to the Invaders as well as showing them their food source could not be accessed. He did not know what stores existed inside the mesa. It was probable they had enough to last them some months. He did not need to know, the siege would mask the true plan.

He would lead that assault himself. He yearned to see the Glory Hall, the great viewing room filled with the relics of his past, his heritage and his destiny all in one. He would reclaim his lands and he would be recorded in the annals of his people along side Kolin the Great as the one who returned their lands to the people. Hammer the Restorer and all will defer to him on bended knee.

Hammer turned and saw Ragnor in front of him his eyes averted. He wondered how long he stood there and he smiled again realising Ragnor and any other in the army would stand there for years if necessary if that is what he commanded.

'peak Ragnor. What of your mission?'

Ragnor hesitated nervously before answering.

'He is nowhere to be found liege. There are many places one such as he could secrete himself and I have searched them all. I am convinced he has left the area.'

Ragnor prepared himself for Hammer's onset and was surprised at the reaction.

'Very well. You may leave and shine your sword thoroughly. There will soon be blood.'

Ragnor backed away followed by the musing eyes of Hammer. It made no sense to fret about Le Frag he thought. If he is gone then so be it. The battle still beckons and even if all the plans go awry and we cannot find the Glory Room on our own then we can still lay a traditional siege to the mesa. The attack may take longer and there may be more casualties but the will of the Omarins will eventually be destroyed. He gave a signal for the elite royal guard he personally chose, to gather around him. He decided to have a representative from each of the Grosses in his ranks thereby giving them all ownership in the grand battle and he knew their enthusiasm would be palpable.

'Aeserians. You have been individually selected by myself to lead the Great Assault. For a thousand years we have prepared for this moment when we slaughter the Invader and return to our lands. Never would we have dreamed as refugees who fled the devastation of the first battle we would have grown so strong. Strong and deadly my people. We will destroy all in our path and be written in mural and stone for generations to come. We will again be supreme.'

Rather than cheer their enthusiasm, the men drew weapons and dropped to a knee, holding the swords by the pommel and driving them into the ground in front of them. They closed their eyes and each gave thanks to the providence affording them such honour among their people. Hammer also dew his sword and followed their example. He guessed rightly the drama of him joining them as an equal rather than a leader would confirm the commitment they had to him. The looks on their faces told him his gesture was successful and he knew at this moment, if he so ordered, each of those men would have killed himself for the continuing glory of Hammer the Exaltor.

Sounds of the catapults being wheeled and hammered began to fill the fields and the smoke from the burning fires stretched high into the air and wafted towards the mesa. Hammer stared long at the mountain. So far they met no resistance and he thought it curious the farmers, whom he guessed must exist to tend these fields, could not be seen anywhere. In fact he could see no sign of life in the fields or on the mountain.

The Mesanians would know by now a threat entered their realm. They would not know exactly what form that threat took. Very likely rumours abounded of Aeserians settling the fields and the numbers would be either exaggerated in a ridiculous fashion or understated completely. Either way confusion was beginning to form within.

The current government would shortly be under pressure to govern in war times. The conservatives would proffer ideas of appeasement and negotiation to placate the invader while the army would profess immediate retaliation from these obvious aggressors.

The ruling class would be wondering how to gain more strategic power and the merchants would be planning how to profit from the cost of war. These competing priorities would erode their unity.

The stars began to pockmark the sky as the sun disappeared and still there he saw no acknowledgment from above. The mesa looked as black as pitch. No evidence of occupation showed at all. No lamp light could be seen anywhere and no movement, even the crystal spires on the mesa's roof remained dim. It looked to Hammer as if the mesa held its breath in anticipation of the battle ahead.

Hammer decided to add to the chaos he guessed raged within the mountain. He called the head of the projectile team to report their progress.

'The machines are almost ready great one. We can throw a half a ton of rock to the top of this pimple with ease. Direct us at your will,' said the chief engineer, a man Hammer had never seen before. He dismissed him and called for his scouts.

'I want an Invader within the hour. They are hidden about I am sure. They need to be flushed into the open. I want you to find me one and with as much ado as you need to achieve my charge upon you. I need prisoners. Be gone.'

Four expert scouts left the encampment, scattering as quietly as a the cutting of a bird's wing through the air as they melded into the night.

There would be some surprises for the Invader come morning thought Hammer. For the remainder of the night he moved among the troops with brave words of encouragement and kept the men he was to take up the side of the Mesa close to him. Le Frag spoke of an eastern escarpment and path digging into the mountain's side. It would be invisible from the base but could be followed easily once found. Its entrance would not be a particular secret, as it was not designed to be so but this entry point into Mesania would likely be covered with rubble and difficult. Le Frag stumbled across it on an ancient scrap of a map which showed a tapering path used in emergencies. The map was not precise although it gave a reasonable description of where the path touched the ground and it was here Hammer would head.

He went back to his tent too excited to rest and as the night passed and morning broke, he was met by the scouts who had broad smiles on their faces.

With a deep bow one spoke. 'Lord Hammer we have found some Invaders for your pleasure as you requested. We gathered those remaining secreted from the raids on the Sentinels and others we found trying to spy on us.' They parted and twelve men sat in a huddle their hands tied behind their back, three of whom seemed barely unconscious and the others awake but covered in cuts and bruises.

Hammer bent down close to them. They looked like Le Frag in every aspect. They did not look particularly evil, especially in their damaged state but even so Hammer felt the anger of a thousand years of exile build within him.

'Prepare the engines,' he said. 'And bring these with you,' as he pointed to the prone forms of the Omarins.

The Aeserians followed Hammer to where a dozen catapults stood, aimed at the mountain. They looked tiny and insignificant compared to the size of the monolith they intended to attack. Hammer could see this question on the faces of those around him as they looked up at the daunting sight of the mesa.

'If we have to dismantle Mesania one stone at a time then we will,' he said confidently. 'But this is not why we have brought these engines.'

He signalled for the captured Invaders to stand in front of him. 'You would like to go home no doubt,' said Hammer with a sinister tone in his voice. 'And I would like to facilitate this journey.'

Hammer nodded to his men and they took an Invader each and tied them in a knot of legs and arms, forming human balls, dumping the bodies into the catapult buckets. They slowly began to draw back the huge sling arms, the wheels and cogs turning with a loud 'click' as the arm stretched back further and further until it rested at the horizontal.

Hammer place a finger in his mouth and pointed it in the sky testing the wind direction and smiled at those around him. 'Send these Invaders home to their brethren.'

A few minutes later the catapult engines snapped forward as the weight of the brackets and arms were released and in ever increasing arcs they flung the Invaders high into the air until they became mere dots in the sky, slowly flying to the roof of the table mountain. Thin screams could be heard cutting through the morning air as the Omarins flew to their deaths.

Hammer followed their flight with a satisfied grin and faced his cheering people. 'Fine marksmanship on this beautiful morning engineers. You earn your keep from this action alone. I think these two need some slight adjustment in their elevation,' he said pointing at the farthest machines. 'It seems their payload hit the side of the mountain instead of the top. Never mind, go out and find some more ammunition and fire at will.'

Aeserians scattered and searched the lands around their encampment looking for more Invaders, while Hammer unsheathed his sword, testing its edge on a nearby tree leaving a deep welt in its trunk . He ordered the rotting meats and fruits, as well as piles of excrement they carted with them, to be packed into the buckets and flung to the top of the mesa. They were protected from the putrid stink by thick sweet smelling leaves wrapping the cargo in bundles, always kept damp to release the leave's redolence which battled the smell. Once opened, even the strongest gagged. Under the leaves, the parcels were solid balls of filth packed tightly and bound with rope. They loaded the catapults and hundreds of tonnes of garbage flew through the air, its stench leaving a trail behind it. When they exhausted their fuel of rubbish they filled the catapult's buckets with giant rocks, they also dispatched in a steady stream Hammer ordered to continue unabated throughout the day. The air filled with projectiles, the catapults regularly re-calibrated to slightly change height and distance. Whatever sat on top of the mesa was slowly being pulverised, including the spires, where large holes could be seen even at their distance. 'Buildings can be rebuilt,' said Hammer to the men. 'We need conquest first.'

The Aeserians experimented in many of the sciences and years ago discovered a mixture of saltpetre, sulphur and charcoal could create a volatile product and when lit, exploded. They possessed little in the way of sulphur, and as such incendiary devices were not common place.

They used it mostly in their agriculture to nuture the ground before seeding fields and never gave it military application until some children placed it inside the hollow of a tree and blew the tree to pieces. The product was immediately banned except for farming and there it remained. No-one thought it had a military use until Hammer and Le Frag made some investigations. They took a small box of the powder out of the city and repeated the children's experiment and their thoughts quickly moved to the catapults. If they could send rocks filled with the stuff to the top of the mountain then they would have a fire which they hoped would force the Invaders down and out of the mesa. The problem of how to ignite the rocks remained unanswered. It took some experimenting and finally they added some rope to squares of timber and doused it in animal oils to allow it to burn. They called the team of engineers together and soon they had enough expertise to reasonably well regulate the length of time before a square would explode. There were a few incidents of burnt beards and fingers but generally it seemed to work well.

Some did not like the idea of using these things as weapons and thought them tools of the Fylgia and not for honourable fighting men. They found it somewhat offensive you could likely kill someone from a distance and not hand to hand. Hammer immediately squashed the arguments by suggesting it would naturally follow then to ban archery also.As this was the primary method of catching dinner, his point was made. If arrows were acceptable then why not these balls of fire. The arguments ceased and experiments continued.

Hammer ordered a lull in the bombardment while the catapults reloaded their payload, this time with the timber and powder lodged in square boxes with bucket loads of gravel to aid in the amount of shrapnel generated. As a second night fell, he commanded the saturation of the mesa to continue. In the dusk the rope wicks caused a line of fire and spark to arch across the sky, tracing the missile in its flight. Large explosions could be seen high in the night sky as the balls reached their target. The bombing lasted throughout the night and tonnes and tonnes of rocks and timber missiles pounded the roof of the mesa and still Hammer could see no sign of retaliation. He suspected the Invaders must be locked away like rats, waiting for the bombardment to relent. They would not be so fortunate. He gave specific orders the missiles should continue unceasingly day and night until they either ran out of material, which would be at least a week, or the Invaders surrendered.

Hammer slowly wiped his sword with a rosin bag, looking over the fields in front of him. It would soon be time for the true assault. Although Le Frag said the room was a secret he could not take unnecessary risks. He would scout the area himself along with his elite guard and when the way was discovered and secured, he would move to the main doors and progress the rest of the army into Mesania.

The night passed as Hammer and his troop mobilised and moved to the base of the mesa making a fire less camp under the shadow of a rocky shelf.

'We will wait here until daylight,' he announced as he sat with his his back to the ice cold of the mountain. He looked up and could see the mesa taper off into the distance until it was lost in the darkness. Regular flashes of light from the missiles briefly bounced off some low clouds. With the bombardment as cover they could take their time discovering the mesa's secrets.

They passed the night sleeplessly, the explosions keeping them awake as well as the euphoria from the promise of battle. As dawn broke Hammer gathered the men around him, instructing each to work in pairs searching every recess for the next half a mile, looking for a disused path. They beat the brush away from rocks and overturned scrubs searching urgently, and thoroughly. Hammer having to calm them lest they miss a vital clue. It took less time than Hammer would have thought, considering it could have been hundreds of years since the path would have been used. His forbears were great masons and if they built a path, then it would exist for ten times a thousand years.

They found a small trickle of a road entering an ancient arch not more than one Aeserians wide. they removed some debris and shuffled through the gap. It did not possess the grandeur of the rest of the mountain but Hammer reckoned this path would be for secondary access and the primary point of egress would be internal. They climbed the path steadily, Hammer leading the way until a single file of twelve soldiers climbed behind him, all marvelling at the panorama exposed with every new step.

Although old, the path still had fine edges untouched from a millennium or more of exposure to the elements. His people built it so well, it was difficult to see from the ground and equally as they rose, they always seemed to have cover from any attack coming from the ground while still able to have their own views. It was more like a rocky canal allowing them to peer over a lip of stone while keeping their bodies hidden. Onlookers from below, assuming they knew where to look, would see only the tiniest glimpse of the tops of heads and could easily be missed. Hammer could see now why the path would have been neglected and lost to the Omarins. They would not be able to see over the edge and likely lost interest.

The path became steep and began cutting back on itself in a zig zag always biased towards the southern side of the mountain. Hammer could now see his own army scattered below him as they continued, enormous missiles soaring over their heads as they moved under their path. He made a mental note to congratulate the marksmanship of the engineers as one loose shot at this point could be catastrophic for his sortie.

After a few minutes they passed through the missile flight path and headed further west, following the now steeply rising path. The road turned back on itself again and they now pointed east before it took another hairpin turn and dramatically moved around the full face of the west side of the mesa.

To a man the Aeserians stared at the view. Eons of their history opened in front of them like a fan. The forest smoke ahead and far below the line of mountains punctuated by the great ice Mountain in front and through the gap a glimpse of the ocean a hundred miles away. Further still they could see an odious line of black which they thought to be an approaching storm and nearer to them, the western Sentinel, its nose poking out of the trees below a wisp of smoke from the wreckage of the earlier attacks. The whole view staggered them. It was as their fathers told them it would look, without exaggeration. The most beautiful site any had seen. They could have sat there all day ignoring the war around them.

Hammer called Ragnor to his side and told him to drop his pack and scout as far ahead as he could go and if he reached the top of the mesa to return immediately and not to engage the enemy.

Ragnor leapt into a jog, his powerful legs pounding up the mountain and disappearing around another bend. Hammer knew he would have turned back on this path once more and now was somewhere straight above him, perfectly camouflaged by the design of his forbears.

The rest of the troop followed at a more steady pace, careful to investigate every small gap in the rocks to see if it his an entrance to the mountain. After a few minutes Ragnor returned with wonder on his face. It is there my liege, only a short distance. I did not enter awaiting your command however clear to all is a ledge which opens into a large room. It was empty and dark. We will require torches.

They quickly broke out their tinder boxes from pouches around their waists and lit some timber torches they carried for this contingency and followed Ragnor. The road wended up and east and then followed a series of steps ending at a large overhanging ledge dropping thousands of feet to the valley floor below.

Hammer drew his sword and told Ragnor to come with him and to hold the torches so his arms were left free to fight. The fast rising eastern sun had yet to pass its zenith and would not light the cavern for another few hours. As the men entered, Ragnor's torches chased the shadows away, the entire room dancing with flame light. Hammer expected to see the colours and pageantry his fathers described. What he saw both depressed him and threw him into an odious burning anger. The room was a charred shell and smelt of recent fire. Some remnants of wall hangings and murals could be seen trying to escape through the black burn marks however most of what they saw was burnt beyond recognition. There were swords scattered throughout, the pommels ruined by fire, the shiny and gleaming metal now black and dull to the touch. The mosaic floors were brittle and scraped and no sign of the former splendor of the Aeserian Glory Hall remained. Hammer sheathed his sword and punched his gloved fist into his other hand with a muted thud.

'The Invader will pay an even greater price for this sacrilege. They have broken asunder the Glory Room and disrespected our greatest memories. They destroy only, they cannot build. It is they who will shortly know the meaning of destruction.'

Hammer sent Ragnor to bring the rest of the troop to him and the twelve were now inside searching for any salvageable relic, the cinders offering them nothing. Hammer's temper began to abate. He must lead and fight with intelligence and not emotion. He needed to make clear decisions and not have them flawed by rampant feelings.

'It appears some catastrophe has beset this place and judging from the smell this has happened only recently,' he said to his men. 'I think we will be a greater catastrophe for the Invader. Come draw your swords, they will soon be needed.'

They sidled carefully along the only corridor they could find leading into the heart of the mountain. The walls were blackened and a foul air blew into their faces. They found they did not have enough hands, to cover their mouths, carry a sword and a torch so they tolerated the smell and kept moving.

The tunnel wound around a corner and straightened for some miles. The sense of having millions of tons of rock above them making some uncomfortable. Even Hammer could feel the weight of the mesa bearing down on him but he knew once they reached the inhabited parts, the feeling would pass. They finally arrived at the end of the tunnel and into a massive room. It too was black and scarred but Hammer knew where he was immediately.

'The Triumvirate,' he said. 'The ancient meeting hall of our people. Here hundreds of our kind would gather and they would perform matters of government. People would come and go as they please. In this very spot one could see Kolin and others.'

The men were in a state of wonder as they traced their heritage, marvelling at the slightest thing and all trying to imagine what splendor once existed here. 'We will restore this place as a matter of urgency,' stated Hammer to the approving nods of his men. 'But first we must regain the mesa.'

They passed a deep and wide hole leaking small trails of smoke waving towards the roof. The scorching heat from the hole beat them back as they tried to fathom its contents.

'It seems we have found the source of the damage. Something exploded here in the same fashion as our own powder. It must have been enormous to cause such damage.'

Past the hollow they found three entrances, two of which were blocked after a few feet and the other full of rubble loose enough to remove with kicks from their heavy boots. Hammer whispered some instructions to one of the men who turned immediately and ran out of the corridor. The rest continued until they reached a dead end and they held the torches up high to see if there were any other hidden paths.

Hammer pointed his sword at a deep gash in the wall and turned to his men. 'If my guess is right this latch will open a door into the mesa. We are about to take the first steps into the heart of our ancient homes. Beware, they are not yet ours and much blood will be spent before we claim victory. Do not stand and marvel at what you see, focus only on our plan. We head down as fast as we can and open the gates for our army to enter. I have sent word back to our people we have found the entrance and they will be preparing to attack from below. The fate of the world rests on the shoulders of the ten in front of me. Come through unscathed my people so we can all enjoy our victory.' Grim and fearless faces turned to Hammer and thumped heavy fists into their chests.

He reached into the chest high cavity and found a stone lever which he pulled and they jumped back as a door slid open revealing a well lit path. They filed through and the door closed by itself them leaving them exposed in the open. Hammer could not immediately see how they could get back inside the trophy room and he knew he would need this avenue if his plans were to succeed. Now was not the time to search.

They chose the descending path and jogged steadily, the bouncing of their leather jerkins silent as they ran. Hammer leveled his sword at every opening and quickly scanned other tunnels as they ran. They kept to the largest of the canals and always the one descending and they saw no signs of any of the Invaders, the stony silence of the mountain and the sound of the leather soles of their boots the only noise.

The further they went without challenge the more concerned Hammer became. This could be a trap. Le Frag may have entered the mesa and warned the Invaders who may be prepared for his assault. They travelled approximately a mile to the best of his reckoning and still there was no sign of life. He stopped the troop and they all listened carefully to see if they could hear rumour of the enemy.

The well tendered paths told them them they were often used but they could hear nothing. They were about to move out again when Hammer stopped the troop and listened as hard as he could. In the far distance he could hear something. It sounded like the din one hears when a huge crowd is gathered many miles away. From a distance the noise sounded like the ocean, sometimes rising as a wave and at other times abating like the retreating tide.

'It comes from far below,' said Hammer. 'There must be many thousands of them and that can mean only one thing.'

As they neared the noise, they could now hear the distinct clatter of metal as weapons were being either handed out, cleaned or practiced with. The men became more urgent. 'They plan to attack. We thought they would hold up like rats. The Invader surprises me, they plan to go on the offensive damn them,' he said.

Hammer thought as he ran. His own army gathered outside not knowing they were about to be the ones who were going to be attacked and this in itself would be a considerable advantage to the Invaders. He could rear attack with his troop however even though they had the advantage of size and surprise, they were still only eleven. He could see his plans going awry and quick action was needed. Before they knew it, they burst out of the tunnel and out into a huge expansive mall also deserted of people, the stands and stalls of food and goods left unattended.

They had little in the way of a strategy now the Invaders behaved in an unexpected manner. He originally planned to create a front of battle inside the mesa drawing away forces from the great doors below. He would personally beat his way down to the doors, their surprise invasion of an unprepared enemy meaning the Invaders would need time to organise themselves allowing him easier access to the gates. He planned to release his army into the mesa while the rest of his small troop would back towards the trophy room and escape the way they came. By the time the Invader knew what was happening they would have control. He estimated he would lose over half of the eleven men in his van guard. He accepted these potential losses as a necessary sacrifice to win the door and create mayhem. With the roof of the mesa on fire and the prospect of disease from the rotting carcasses, he expected the foe to be discouraged and their will evaporate. Many would die and many others would surrender. That was his plan and it no longer had relevance. With the offensive thrust the Invaders would throw at his people, victory would be costly. He needed to create some internal obstruction to interrupt the Invader offensive.

The best bait he could think of was himself. The men ran harder, their swords cutting the air as they swung them in great arcs warming their shoulder muscles. They rounded a corner and hundreds of Omarins gathered at two giant timber gates, the doors to Mesania. Hammer knew he had to reach them immediately before the Invaders could rally a defence and it would call for sacrifice from his men. As they came closer to the Invader army Hammer bellowed a mighty battle roar from his tree trunk throat, the noise echoing off the walls and belching down the canals, thumping into the army of Invaders.

Like a flood the Aeserians engulfed the Invaders sending dozens of them flying through the air. Screams of terror rang out in reply to Hammer's challenge and hundreds of the little people fled from the ferocity of the attack. Hammer could see the doors, surrounded by a sturdy group of Invaders, dressed in black, who had not moved from the attack and stood feet wide apart and large swords in two hands levelled at the enemy. Hammer saw one a good deal larger than the rest, covered in a yellow cape, and who took a few brave steps towards him. Ragnor brushed past Hammer and drove straight at Le Vulk, a death stroke loaded in his double edged broadsword. Le Vulk stepped to one side and Ragnor rushed past him, losing his balance. The Omarin needed no other advantage and like lightning he swung a backhand swipe at Ragnor. The smaller man's sword cut a wide rift in the Aeserian's hamstring, cutting an artery, the deep red of a vicious wound spurting from Ragnor's leg as he collapsed to the ground. Hammer looked in shock as three Invaders pounced on the fallen Ragnor hacking him to death with a brutality surprising him.

The others also saw the death of their man and it sent them berserk. They hacked mercilessly at the surrounding Invaders killing twenty in seconds. The Omarins formed large groups and began rushing Hammer's men, isolating each from the others. A score of men began attacking each of the Aeserian warriors and slowly Hammer could see his men losing the battle against overwhelming numbers. He needed his army right now or they would all perish.

Raising his sword to waist height he began swirling it round and round creating a deadly eddy slaughtering everything in its path. He moved towards the door his sword a blur and the Invaders were swept aside. Le Vulk leapt into Hammer's path and rolled under the circling, trying to drive his sword into Hammer's vitals, a corset of armour blunting his swing. Hammer kicked him hard, slamming Le Vulk into the wall of the cavern. Two black guards replaced Le Vulk and Hammer punched one in the face crushing head and stabbed the other skewering him on the end of his sword. He reached for the handle of the timber doors, kicking other challengers out of his way as he leant his shoulder against cold wood, pushing hard as his men outside at the same time pulled and in seconds the alcove in front of the gates of Mesania filled with teeming Aeserians, their swords held high.

They gushed into the room. Screams billowed from their thick lips and adrenaline sweat leached from their foreheads. A loud whistle sounded in the entrance and to the surprise of the Aeserians the Omarins retreated at incredible speed.

As soon as Le Vulk saw the open doors, he signalled for his army to withdraw into the mountain. A score of Aeserians followed too quickly when suddenly a thick solid rock wall slammed down from the roof separating them from the rest of the Aeserians. Hammer launched his weight against the wall, smashing his shoulder time and again until his whole body ached however the wall remained solid. He was certain the trapped men were already dead.

Hammer placed his hands on his knees, gulping air and trying to calm himself so he could reorganise his attack. He saw six of his men lying dead around him and countless Invaders. He had no time for grief. His plans to this point bore little fruit and although he succeeded in breaching the mesa, his attack failed. He searched the room he was now in and it was solid on all fronts except the doors of Mesania opening to the world. There were no other ally ways and Hammer realised the strategy of the little people and admired it to a degree. Had it not been for his raiding party it was likely the Invaders would have coaxed a very large portion of his army into the base of the mesa. The doors would have closed, the wall would have appeared from no where and his army would be trapped. The Invaders would not even have to kill his army, just leave it completely alone for a few weeks until it starved itself to death.

His heart began racing again as he realised another folly. He screamed at his men to leave the mountain as quick as they could, physically throwing the men out as a hundred strained to exit the gateway at the same time. He pushed the last man ahead of him and passed the doorway when another wall of granite came slamming down behind the gates sealing the entrance completely.

Hammer stared in disbelief at the wall for a few moments and then led his men down the steps from the entrance, leaving a few to ensure the wall did not disappear as suddenly as it had appeared or they would have an army of Invaders cutting their throats in their sleep. With anger beating in the veins of his temples, he searched for a quiet place to think.

He sat against a tree and chewed slowly on some dried meat as his generals approached, and he dismissed them with a wave of his hand. What did this all mean, he asked himself? The main artery into the mesa seemed to be closed to them through the very defensive designs in the mountain his own people designed. The Invaders now knew the strength of his force and he had lost at least twenty of his countrymen. He still had the secret access through the Glory Hall although he would find it difficult to move his entire force through this portal quickly. He needed to devise new strategies and he needed to know the Invader mind and at this moment Le Frag would be very useful. The first battle had been won by the Invader, with far superior tactics and this he conceded. He ordered the barrage from the catapults to continue as he pondered his next move knowing he could not plan another foray into enemy territory until the morrow.

He looked to the sky and not far to the west the line of storm clouds he spied from the side of the mountain appeared much closer. He rose to his feet his eyes locked on the wave of black and he slowly drew his sword.

'To arms Aeserians, the threat comes from the west.'

The sky turned a deep shade of grey as thousands of Ratite descended on the Mesanian valley, each carrying a black Tusse passenger screaming as they landed. The Aeserians drew their swords in return and prepared to meet the new enemy.

'What are these new devils?' screamed an Aeserian nearest to Hammer.

'They are Ratite with Tusse,' said Hammer. 'They come to claim us, we must attack or perish.' Hammer attacked the nearest Ratite who landed too close to him, its Tusse passenger sliding off its back before Hammer sliced the throat of the bird and in a return stroke separated the Tusse head from its body. The other Aeserians seeing their captain and general do battle also screamed a battle cry and leapt at the Ratite. Swords cut the air and Ratite claws scratched at anything they could reach occasionally killing a stray Tusse as the noise of battle filled the valley.

Hammer fought like ten men as he killed and parried, destroying all who came near him. He could see the vast Tusse numbers and could see no alternative strategy other than to fight till the death. Hundreds and hundreds more Tusse replaced those his men killed as the Ratites unloaded their passengers and began carrying away scores of Aeserians who screamed in agony as the beasts dug their razor claws through their chests.

He could see his men fracturing and becoming isolated, all semblance of an organised fighting force evaporating before his eyes as each man fought desperately for their own survival, each too busy fighting his own battle to help others. Evening began darkening the fields and still the Tusse arrived outnumbering his men a hundred to one. Hammer sliced another Ratite in half and skewed the Tusse rider when a clear golden sound peeled across the din of battle. He lopped the heads of two Tusse and swung around to see a sight freezing him. A hundred feet away he saw the unmistakable figure of the great Kolin, his huge chest covered with a mail shirt and the famous sword Morpheous swinging in killer arcs cutting a swathe through the enemy. The remainder of the Aeserians also saw Kolin and their eyes widened with wonder as the greatest of their kind walked and fought amongst them after a thousand years. To each Aeserian he stood as an omen for victory. Kolin arrived in their darkest hour to lead them to victory and with the Aeserians from Salnikovia fought with a renewed power. The Ratite and Tusse fell in obscene numbers, their screams of despair filling the air.

The battle turned in the Aeserian favour when another painful shriek filled the air paralysing the entire battle field. Every creature was stabbed with a shock of fear so debilitating some stood riveted to the spot while others threw themselves to the ground while others merely let their weapons fall from their grasps as they looked in terror at the creature who belched the foul noise.

In the middle of the battle field a monster towered over the terrified Aeserians. It stood twenty feet high, with thick scales covering its tree trunk like legs. Its' black wings beat backwards and forwards creating such a rancid and foul wind men collapsed merely from the smell. It raised itself on its hind legs, folded its wings behind its back and drew a black sword in one hand and a trident in the other. It breathed a blazing red fire aimed at a group of Aeserians and Tusse killing them all in an instant. The Beast released another cry greeted by screams from the far eastern side of the battlefield where another army of Tusse appeared and prepared to enter the fray.

Hammer looked with despair as new formations of the Tusse began swarming from the south and the east and a squadron of Ratite rejoined the melee, driving in on the flanks of his army. The monster released the entire field of battle from its mental grip and the fighting recommenced. From the corner of his eye, Hammer saw the hulking form of Kolin slice through the nearest ranks of Tusse and he noticed for the first time the familiar face of Arad who guarded one of Kolin's flanks and the distinctive squat form of Minar on one knee bleeding from many wounds, guarding the other. Minar sliced at another Tusse on the ground while being pecked and clawed at by the Ratite above.

He did not try to question how they came to be here, rather he tried to breach the gap between them so he could at the least die with his brethren, the magnitude of his folly striking him a heftier blow than any of the enemy. With a last surge he beat his way to his king and stood in front of him bleeding, shards of bone hanging from his sword.

'I needed you King Kolin, Fylgia took me over. This beast has entered all our minds and I the worst. It is all so clear to me now how this beast has designed our fate and I existed only as his minion.' Hammer hung his head wishing for forgiveness and unable to ask.

Kolin placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. 'We have all of us suffered Hammer. You are still Hammer the Exalter. Remember who you once were and die that man. You are forgiven.'

Hammer looked up at his benevolent king humbled by the magnitude of the wisdom in front of him. He saw the gulf between what he designed to be and that of a true king and his stomach burned with the rage of his ignorance. He calmly turned and watched the vast sea of enemies in front of him. All across the fields of Mesania the black armour of the Tusse dominated and swarms of the locust-like Ratite carried away his men or slaughtered them where they stood, some feasting on the dead bodies. It was a nightmare unfolding before him. He looked further afield and he could now see the Omarins pour from the gates of Mesania, thousands of them joining the battle against the Tusse and Ratite. Aeserians and Omarins fighting together. Hammer looked with a tear in his eye. 'This is how it should have been Great Kolin. Two races together not two sundered.'

A screech leapt above the din of battle and the monster appeared near the base of the mountain. The rocks under its feet began breaking and burning under the beast's weight. Fire belched from the creatures mouth, as it consumed a hundred of the little people in an instant. Its sword as large as a tree, swung in wide arcs killing many, many more and in the other hand it held a trident, the forks spewing flames.

In a final flurry Hammer leapt off the high area where he stood with Kolin and charged at the beast. He came upon it from its flank, his head only reaching the black waist. Kolin could do nothing except watch as Hammer stabbed his sword deep into the thigh of the monster and with his other hand slammed a mighty blow from his sledge across the other leg of the beast.

The monster let out a cry of pain and rage and knocked Hammer flying with a stroke of is claw, sending him crashing against the side of the mountain, rocks tumbling down from the impact as the beast walked slowly to the crumpled form. It hovered over the body, briefly examining the insect who wounded it and it leant down, grabbing Hammer by the chest engulfing him in its huge claw. He brought Hammer's face up close to his own and twisted and turned the still struggling Aeserian as he examined the features, carefully smelling him, trying to decide if this is the one he had battled before.

As his life's breath left him, Hammer raised his head to the sky.

'Forenstarlumbi, I call in your debt.' Hammer searched the battle field through blood soaked eyes, expecting the sprites to arrive in numbers, saving his people in a display of magic however nothing happened. He felt his body crack under the force of the black grip as he began losing consciousness. He knew his death was only seconds away and all around him his people were being slaughtered.

The monster decided this was not the one he sought and he blasted Hammer with a fiery breath,t wrapping the Aeserian in flame. It threw Hammer high against the mesa a hundred feet from the ground and the dead body slid to the mountain's base in a crumble of ash and dust.

A victory roar blasted out of the beast and the armies of Omarins and Aeserians toppled at the sound, even the Tusse and Ratite stopped their attacks in fear. Small tears formed in Kolin's eyes as he helped Minar to his feet as Arad also joined them.

'He was once a good man,' said Kolin. 'Let us remember him so.'

The waves of Tusse continued their assault on the remaining Aeserians. Kolin estimated his numbers were reduced to a mere seven hundred and the Omarins number maybe two thousands. Of the enemy he estimated ten thousand and an unknown number of Ratite. Even with such numbers he would be confident of victory if they did not have to also battle the beast. The monster came as it pleased, dropping in among groups of his army and slicing or burning them in an instant and then flying elsewhere and repeating the carnage. They could survive like this for perhaps an hour and then there would be none left to tell the tale.

Kolin sliced lazily at a band of Tusse in front of him, killing a dozen and then absently returned the stroke killing a dozen more. He repeated over and over knowing what would happen. It was inevitable the beast would seek him out. He posed the greatest threat. By killing the Tusse so effortlessly he painted a target on himself and then the battle would be on.

Kolin did not feel scared or even intimidated. He knew of all the creatures in all the lands of Salnikov he alone could battle the monster. He also knew the outcome of the fight. He would lose. He knew this the moment Wodan explained everything back on the island. He read the Jharnell and believed himself to be the foretold hero of whom the book spoke. Who else could it be? Wodan tried to tell him the mysteries of the book were untold and none could be sure of the messages therein but Kolin knew better. Surely this is way he had been granted the gift of long life. Why he existed for a thousand years when all others died. It was why he possessed powers others did not have. It could only be he. Kolin tried searching for Wodan amongst the confusion of battle and he could not see him anywhere. He chuckled to himself after all the old man's posturing about the urgency to get here and all the ramblings about the beast and the prophecies and the Jharnell and so on you would expect he would actually turn up when things got interesting. Here they stood on the brink of disaster and Wodan could not be seen anywhere.

'Typical of an Omarin I suppose,' said Kolin to the others. 'All talk and no action. Perhaps Hammer was right after all.'

'I am worried about Isaac,' said Arad. 'I have not seen him since the battle began.'

Minar hobbled to him as he dispatched another Tusse who breached the slight mound they decided would be their last stand. 'You realise of course you are about to die,' said Minar, 'and all you can think about is that annoying son of a Tusse Isaac?'

'I suppose I have become quite fond of him,' said Arad.

'What like a pet?' asked Minar laughing painfully and then coughing a glob of blood which he spat out.

'Yes something like that,' said Arad as he placed and arm under Minar to steady him. They looked at each other as only friends can and decided without words if death was to greet them then they would be content to die in each others arms. They watched the Aeserian army gather around the southern base of the mesa and also spied more flying Tusse heading in their direction. With little hope and no debate they hurried to the mountain to reach their people before the eastern army of Tusse cut them off altogether.

A Ratite swooped them and before they could react Kolin took its head off, its spiny body landing with a thud, its head rolling down the hill bowling a few Tusse over.

The Beast thundered around the mountain, heaving rocks in the air and slaughtering any who came near. Kolin, who was still a few hundred feet away, turned to the monster and drew a large elkin horn from his belt and blew a sweet golden note, a stark opposition to the wails of pain and death screeching across the battle field. The monster instantly swung its head in his direction and the black face turned red with rage.

It lifted itself on its huge wings and flew towards Kolin, each beat of its wings knocking down men and Tusse alike. Kolin stood firm as the beast landed in front of him levelling his sword at the dripping fangs. The battle ceased and every eye fell on the representatives of light and darkness. Arad and Minar could not move, rooted to the spot unable to assist even if they wanted to. Time seemed to pause, waiting for the result before continuing towards the destruction of the world.

The monster threw its head back and belched of stream of fire skywards, its challenge making the stones crumble and shake around them and the grass singe like burnt hair.

Kolin however merely stood and pondered the beast. He could not see a weakness immediately. He did not think he would take Hammer's approach and brazenly attack, as the monster seemed well equipped to handle such basic strategy. Its hide seemed covered in a thick armour-like skin and its flesh looked so thick it would take a hefty stroke to cleave it and likely have little impact. Kolin looked at the long and thin neck and thought perhaps a blow to it may be more successful however it too was protected by large scales like an outcrop of shale. He did not like that option either.

The Beast folded its wings behind its back and Kolin thought this may be a weakness. Again he would have to manoeuvre the beast so its spine faced him and he did not like his chances. Fire would be ineffectual against it considering it breathed the stuff and while water may quench the fire there was none available and certainly not in the volumes he would need. His examination moved to the taloned legs of the beast and these looked like solid rock, each as large as a man with spikes for toes and one large hook protruding from its heel for balance and protection. It did not seem to Kolin the creature had any weaknesses at all.

With another piercing scream the monster swung its sword at Kolin who deftly rolled under the blow, the monster both surprised and angry at this ones agility. It thought perhaps the Foe had new incarnation. The beast more carefully swung a second time with better aim and again Kolin leapt into the air and somersaulted over the swipe, landing on his feet. His helmet dropped off his head and his blond hair blew behind him as he stood feet slightly apart and a crooked smile on his square face.

'You need to be better than that fell beast. I am Kolin the Great, King of the Aeserian Empire and I do not fear you.'

To the amazement of everyone the beast spoke. It was a vicious noise emanating from its thin mouth and every word causing a splutter of smoke and fire to eke past its lips.

'You are a fool not to be afraid. I have waited long to kill you and then I will be supreme.'

It heaved huge gasps of air as if the effort of speaking made it tired and Kolin noticed this.

'I have read of the Raqnarok, the Gathering of the Gods, beast from the night and the winner has not been ordained. It will be you who is no more.'

Kolin sounded so confident and proud as he spoke for a moment the monster seemed unsure of itself and pendulumed from side to side on its massive legs.

Without warning it slammed its sword directly at Kolin's head who again leapt out of the way, the black sword gouging a crater in the earth Kolin nearly fell into. He knew he was agile and strong but this could not go on forever. The beast would eventually strike him and the size of the sword meant even the slightest gash would be life ending. He decided, much like Wodan a millennium earlier, to head for the forest and try to find some advantage in there.

The monster also had a thousand years to ponder a strategy and it already guessed at Kolin's thoughts and it flew in one leap ahead of him, barring his way. Reaching out it tore an entire tree from its roots and threw it at the Aeserian who this time only barely managed to avoid the trunk and watched as it killed thirty Tusse where it landed. The beast did not notice the carnage, its whole focus was on Kolin whose elusiveness enraged it further.

The beast sat back on its haunches and blew a thick vapour of poisonous steam from its mouth with Tusse and some Aeserians dropping to the ground as soon as the gas hit them. Kolin ran back towards the mound he came from, as the smoke formed a halo of death around his knees before dissipating. He looked to Arad and Minar who could again move freely and they fought through the Tusse to get to their leader.

The black shape did not move. On either side of its bulk, the killer fog thickened until it took a physical shape the sight of which made the men scream in terror. Kolin knew some believed in the Fylgia, creatures who lived in a parallel universe to their own, some existing to protect and nurture the Jotins while others were mischievous even dangerous, tricking and at times injuring. For each Jotun there was fabled to be a Fylgia linked to them. As a counter point to the Fylgia were their antithesis, the 'Hamingja', fabled spirits of death, the mortal enemies of the Fylgia. They were forever locked in a battle for supremacy, enraged by the good of the Fylgia always searching for a means to destroy them and never succeeding. It was a deadly dance that would only conclude when no more Aeserians bred and as such no more Fylgia needed to protect them or they met in a final battle to extinction. The legends said once the Fylgia died then the Aeserians themselves would be more vulnerable to attack from forces both natural and supernatural. Before this moment Kolin believed none of it.

He stood as solid as stone and faced the new threat. He could not believe his eyes and even he, Kolin the Great began to lose hope and despair crept up on him like the fog around his ankles. He was as close to the gods as any here and still these creatures seemed too fantastic for even he to believe, creatures more brutal and carnal then any he had ever seen.

The Hamingja stood Aeserian height but much broader across the shoulders and while their form was a few moments ago vapour, they now existed in as solid a form as Kolin. They wore ring mail shirts and carried a shield across the arms and double edged swords. Two large horns protruded from each side of their smooth heads and each of their wrists and elbows had sharp spikes. Fine hair covered their bodies and glistened with keenness. Their beardless faces held no expression and resembled the rock the mountain was made of.

Three moved towards Kolin who levelled his sword and they attacked in unison. Arad and Minar met the attack of one of the beasts and Kolin the other two while the black monster watched as a spectator would at sports.

Each impact from the Haminga's swords crushed the Aeserians to the ground, their shield arms straining to repel the blows. The blank faces of the enemy did not register surprise, fear, anger, nothing one would normally be expected from any living beast. They merely issued blow after blow and soon all three of the Aeserians sank to their knees urging their arms to withstand one more attack. All three discarded their swords, Kolin dropping the famed Morpheous as they used both their hands and arms on their shields, trying to survive the onslaught. In a breathless moment they would be dead when Arad found a last burst of strength and climbed to his feet. At the top of his lungs in a last gasp he heard himself call to the sky.

'Forenstarlumbi, Tssarmassassintents again I call in your debt.' It was Arad's mouth issue the demand but the words were Hammer's, desperately calling from beyond this life, his verve making one final effort before it expired completely.

Arad collapsed to the ground. Unexpectedly the blows ceased and all around him he could see small cloud-like shapes appear as wisps of fog. The three Aeserians raised themselves from the ground watching as the knoll they stood on became dappled with small white ghostly shapes. The Hamminga backed away as more and more of the creatures took form and began surrounding them. The battle ceased and the Hamminga for the first time looked nervously to the great black shape who sat in the distance, a wisp of smoke dribbling from the corner of its mouth.

Kolin dropped his shield and began rubbing his trunk like arm as he reached for his sword. In front of him floated whom he assumed to be the leader of the mysterious guests.

'My name is Forenstarlumbi Great Kolin. We know you and your people. We are the Fylgia or as some rustics call us Sprites and while our races at one time journeyed together we have been sundered and that was a mistake. We owe a debt to your Hammer the Exalter and we mourn his death as he was great among the people of Salnikov.' The head turned slowly glimpsing the monster and returned to Kolin. 'We are bound to repay Hammer for past issues although we know it will end us on this plane. Fare thee well Kolin of the Aeserians.'

Before Kolin could answer Forenstarlumbi left the knoll and drifted towards the Hamminga along with a hundred more of the tiny shapes. The Hamminga could back away no further as their backs closed on the monster who remained unmoved. It drove its trident into the dirt and held it loosely with one hand.

The Hamminga raised their weapons and the Fylgia attacked them. Swords blazed in the yellow of the afternoon sun. Each time the swords met shields, instead of the clang of metal there was only silence. It was the most macabre sight Kolin had ever seen. Hamminga drove into the ranks of Fylgia who washed away like a veil of mist and reformed behind the monsters, driving their swords into their sides. Each stroke was silent and screams came from open and voiceless mouths. Arad and Minar looked at each other incredulously as one of the Hamminga staggered up the rise and past them as twenty Fylgia attacked it with a swathe of blows.

The Fylgia however were not impervious to the attacks of the Hamminga. Time after time the Fylgia would fall from a blow and the mists would evaporate in a blinding flash of light and the men knew another expired. Small flashes filled the battle field and the Fylgia numbers dwindled with a third of their kind gone in minutes. The Hamminga slowly were being defeated and paradoxically so too the Fylgia. Minutes passed and the flashes of light continued as more and more of the Fylgia perished and each time one disappeared, the Hamminga also weakened. In a few minutes the Hamminga dropped to their knees and the remainder of the Fylgia rained blows on them while others blinked into oblivion. Eventually two of the Hammingas dropped their sword and the Fylgia beheaded them before they too disappeared. There remained only two of the Fylgia who moved cautiously to the last of the Hamminga who lowered its head to the ground only to lose it from a swipe of one of the Fylgia who in turn erupted in a shock of light.

The last Fylgia, Forenstarlumbi, floated to Kolin. 'Our debt to Hammer the Exalter and the Aeserians has been repaid. It will of course all be for nought.'

Kolin bowed to the creature as it turned its back and headed for the monster who returned to its feet and awaited the King of the Sprites. They closed the gap quickly and faced each other the enormous dichotomy of appearance obvious to all, the black devil huge and seemingly indestructible and the misty shape of the Fylgia gliding silently. All who watched this final battle held their breaths scared to blink unless they miss the final confrontation.

'Be gone fell beast of the night. Your minions are dead as is your reign.'

Through thin black lips the beast smiled and dragged its trident out of the ground. With lightning speed it drove its point into heart of the unmoving Forenstarlumbi and slowly lifted the trident high with the sprite dead and skewered on its end. The beast threw the sprite high into the air and it evaporated in a blast of light small sparks raining down on Arad, Minar and Kolin.

The monster screamed at the victory. The pleasure at the destruction of another race seemed to increase its anger. Tongues of flame leapt from the sword and the trident and shot, plumes of smoke and fire towards the mesa's side. Huge rents exploded from the impact and tonnes of debris fell across the battlefield. The beast took a few steps towards Kolin and then swooned and dropped to a knee, its trident and sword hanging loosely from its claws.

In a flash of understanding, Kolin now knew the nature of 'Balance'. When the great good of the Fylgia perished, so too did the evil of the Hamminga whose death did not compensate enough, so the beast too lost some of its power. Kolin stood his ground and returned to his assessment of the creature who quickly recovered and raised itself to its full height.

Minar and Arad stood on either side of him and although they spoke no words, they knew this would be the place where they made their stand against the beast. They each scanned the battle field and any hope of victory evaporated when they looked to the south and saw a huge caravan of Tusse coming directly from the highways of Silver City. They numbered in the tens of thousands and leeched out of the forest like a mudslide covering the southern plain.

'The Tusse have become strong in number and heart damn them,' said Minar. 'It would seem our friends from the Silver City were unsuccessful in waylaying them. I think I would like the opportunity to relieve these filthy Tusse of their heads.' Minar looked over his shoulder, 'I am afraid however this problem might occupy us instead.'

The beast took flight and landed in front of them, its feet thumping into the dirt leaving deep welts in the land and kicking up a small sandstorm. It beat its blackened wings harder and harder and soon the wind pulled at their clothes, upsetting their balance. They placed one leg behind them and leant into the gale. The long blond hair of Kolin streaming behind him like a pennon and Arad and Minar's brown curls bounced like a field of wheat in a storm. Together they looked like the gods incarnate. The wind increased and they could no longer resist, both Minar and Arad blown off their feet. They tumbled down the tor, landing among a host of Tusse who beset them immediately with another whirlwind, this time of folded iron.

They blocked as many blows as they could and caught some gashes across their arms and legs before they balanced themselves enough to fight back. They knew Kolin was now alone with the monster and the fate of the battle lay solely in his hands. Their job would be to rally what remained of the Aeserian army to resist the Tusse. The tide of the enemy seemed to surge once again and Minar and Arad turned back to back and swept head after head of Tusse with their swords until a sickening pile of corpses lay all around them, the enemy's blood mixing with their own.

'Even though there may be too many of these creatures to fight, at least I gain some solace from killing my share,' said Minar whilst cleaving another two Tusse.

'Your right,' panted Arad.'"But I will not die at the hands of creatures such as these. Let us fight towards our brethren to the south.'

The two began advancing on an incredulous army of Tusse who began fracturing under the ferociousness of the two Aeserians. Ahead of them a group of twenty of their kin fought hard against a flock of Aeponysis and at least two hundred of the largest and hardiest of the Tusse warriors.

Arad and Minar reached them and they recognised one of the men immediately.

'How goes the battle Orlock the Subtle,' asked Arad of one of the Aeserians present at his judgement which now seemed an eon ago.

'None to well Arad. It seems you were exiled by us and then we have exiled ourselves.' Arad smiled back at his grinning countryman. 'As subtle as you have been named,' he returned.

'Do you see us winning the day?' asked Arad.

'No,' replied Orlock

'Then let us at the least exact some penance on these abominations.'

The Aeserians fought with renewed vigour and soon cleared the immediate area of Tusse and even the Ratites hovered outside sword distance, unsure of whether they should continue the attack here or find easier prey. The Aeserians leant on their swords with the temporary relief and could feel perhaps there was a chance they may defeat the enemy.

'We must link with more of our men,' said Minar as he searched the battlefield trying to work out which of the many small fighting grosses they should try to merge with when Orlock grabbed him by the shoulder.

'Why bother,' he said curtly. They all swung around and the shadow of the new Tusse army Minar and Arad saw advancing on them earlier, arrived at the field. Arad guessed they now faced at least thirty thousand of the Tusse and even they could not defeat such numbers.

The rest of the Tusse and the Ratites took heart from the sight of their renewed numbers and rejoined the battle this time with smiles across their leathery faces. Snarls and the gnashing of teeth began to resound across the battle field.

Just as the Tusse looked to be overrunning every gross Arad could see, another movement caught his eye. He grabbed Minar's jerkin and the pair stared towards the mesa. Huge trumpets blasted across the field and the Tusse once again paused their attack to find the source. At the base of the mesa, rocks began to shift and a dozen large doors opened. A score of their brothers they thought trapped in the bowels of the mountain, now charged at the new army of Tusse and behind them, the remainder of the Mesanian army held back by Le Vulk until the last moment also gushed onto the battle field. He had also partitioned off some of the Aeserians from the earlier invasion of the meas and while they had destroyed some of the giants Le Vulk did not see the sense in killing them all when he could drop another wall of stone and corral them

Until now, Le Vulk had only sent a portion of his strength into the battle, making the Tusse believe the mountain was empty of their fighting force. Now thousands and thousands of Omarins all mounted on horses and each carrying a pennon and sword charged into the midst of the Tusse and began slaughtering them at will.

Minar and Arad could not believe their eyes. The entire enemy army began disintegrating. The formidable fighting force they faced only moments before, degenerated into a leaderless rabble, Tusse running aimlessly in every direction and being run through by the swords of the Omarins who led the charge deep into the enemy lines. The van of the Tusse disappeared and they met the remainder of the army. Most of the Tusse had no idea what hit them. This far back from the front of the battle all the Tusse knew was at least ten thousand of their army stood between them and the enemy and most did not expect to be involved at all and now they faced a ferocious attack by a mobile and motivated enemy whose anger shone from their eyes.

Many of the Tusse tried to flee the tide of Omarins, while others just stood and died on the spot. Le Vulk was irresistible. Everywhere he went the armies of Omarins and Aeserians alike rallied and beat the defence to a pulp. The cries went up from the Omarins 'Le Vulk, Le Vulk,' and Le Vulk would push through defences and rally his men.

After only minutes the defenders seemed ready to claim victory as thousands of the Tusse left screaming, their swords thrown to the ground, however they underestimated the vastness of the Tusse army. A battalion of Tusse, who to this point only observed the destruction, now entered the fray and the allies could not overcome this group so easily. Both their sword play and their intensity seemed greater than the other Tusse. They seemed to all come from the one tribe and unlike the traditional Tusse, their shields and swords were forged from the same armoury.

Many used the Ratites as steeds and swooped on the Omarins and Aeserians, killing them from the air. Le Vulk saw them coming and pulled an ivory horn from his belt and blew three loud turns. Immediately the battle began to swing towards him as his men rallied to his call. Within minutes, two lines of warriors faced off, each showing no signs of wavering.

Le Vulk spoke to the nearest of the Aeserians who was not much taller than himself while he sat on his steed. The giant men immediately formed a wedge, the pointed end facing the leaders of the Tusse and Ratites. The Omarins spread in a line and each of them manned off against two of the enemy. Le Vulk raised himself on his stirrups and called aloud, the din of battle around him abating momentarily.

'I give you some quarter Tusse and Aeponysis. Leave now and you will be spared. If you engage us, then the wrath of the Aeserians who were the Jontenhiem of old and Mesanians who were called Omarins, who together we call the armies of Mesania will destroy you.'

Le Vulk raised his shield as a spear struck it and bounced harmlessly away as the Tusse gave their reply and both armies charged at each other. The crash as they came together sounded like a thunderclap and blood and bodies of both the Tusse and the Mesanians spurted into the air, painting the ground in a sickly hue of red. The stench of death and the screams of the dying blackened the air and still the battle waged. Both armies struggled to find sure footholds amongst the slippery mud and blood, so they moved to surer ground and re engaged, neither side prepared to give any quarter. The sun dropped behind the trees to the west and long shadows stretched to the eastern horizon making the men seem like elongated ghouls as they thrashed their weapons against anything that looked like it threatened.

To the despair of the Mesanian troops, their initial assault now slowed dangerously and the Tusse numbers began to swell once again, the southern Tusse finally joining with their kind from the east. The fresh troops of Tusse smashed into the tiring Mesanian army and they fought as if each blow would win the day.

As more and more men and Tusse fell, the battle began to slow as tired arms and screaming lungs made the battle harden. The Tusse numbers became so vast they could not push enough fresh troops ahead to destroy the enemy quickly, which assisted Le Vulk in his defence.

Le Vulk looked around him just as the last rays of the sun disappeared and he breathed a little easier. Surly the battle would pause in the night hours especially when Argil and Arean the twin moons would rise late. Neither side could see the other and he could get some drink and food and prepare for the next morning.

He began issuing orders when a light as bright as the day burst among the forest. The initial blaze the Aeserians set days earlier ran low on fuel and the trees now smouldered slowly. The entire ring of forest, hundreds of miles around the perimeter of Mesania erupted into a white blaze, lighting the battle field like white sun. The Tusse took this a signal to renew their assault and the allies became despondent knowing soon there would be a result one way or another. They folded back towards the mesa, hitting the base of the mountain and spreading like a wave washing against the shoreline.

'At the least they cannot come on our rears,' declared Le Vulk to those around him as another wave of Tusse attacked. Strong as he was, Le Vulk was mortally tired. He shed his broadsword and now fought with a much lighter single edged sword, not as strong as his old one although much easier to hold. The impacts of his strokes did not have the weight behind them of his primary sword but the edge was keen and rather than sever a head, this sword left the head dangling awkwardly after he sliced half way through the neck.

He rallied the men around him for what he knew would be a bitter assault. Next to him a group of six Tusse flew past him each missing a number of limbs. A second batch followed the first and then a third and suddenly the Tusse in front of him decided to retreat. Le Vulk looked to his right and saw two giants he had not seen before breathing heavily and smiling.

'Well met,' said Arad bowing low. 'We watched you fight all through the day and decided we should meet before we die.' Minar came to his side and also bowed. 'We know bravery and skill when we see it,' he said. 'I am Minar the Loyal and this is Arad once The Generous now the Source of Peace. It is not our custom to tell you our names in such a hasty fashion and we would also normally espouse the virtues of our given names however we are under some time constraints at present,' he said the last as he lifted his sword through the neck of two Tusse who crept up behind them.

'Well met indeed masters Enormous. I am Le Vulk, captain of the forces of Mesania. I have met many of your kind today and you fight well. A great part of me is happy for a time at least we have a common enemy because I would not like to battle you and yours.'

'We thought the same of you also Captain of the Omarins. What can we do?'

'The only thing is to fight to the gates and try to hold up inside the mountain. We would not have ventured out at all if we had not seen the worthy fight your people on the outside were having. At first we thought a few hundred of our people could rid ourselves of a few Tusse but their numbers grew, and we decided we could not leave you alone to die. It is not neighbourly.'

'You have a gift of right speech,' said Arad. 'I have spent some time with one of your kind lately and it seems typical of you race that flowery speech and clever words are a part of you. We like that.'

'Time for speech etiquette later Arad,' said Minar. 'If we are to reach the gates we need to rally our peoples. There is no time to lose.'

Le Vulk blew two piercing notes from his ivory horn and instantly across the battlefield, the allies began retreating towards the gates of Mesania. They tried to breach the lines of Tusse who saw their plans and grouped to block their escape with the Omarins numbers dwindling as the Tusse hacked into them The clamour of battle filled the area in front of the gates and the immediate area around Le Vulk harboured more Tusse than his men and grew in numbers by the second when a roar erupted across the field. Far in the distance a long line of mounted soldiers charged through the battalions of southern Tusse, cutting them down as they passed, creating a clear path some twenty feet wide the Tusse could not enter.

The men of the Silver City mounted and five hundred strong arrived at the battle field and cut a swathe towards the mesa, slicing at any Tusse or Ratite coming near them, They formed a guard for the hundreds of tired allies to escape through. The Omarins and Aeserians quit fighting and sprinted down the new path the Silverarians carved.

The first men to reach Le Vulk did not try to rush past and enter the mesa but rather turned again to fight making a semi circle of defence growing wider more numbers arrived until an umbrella of swords formed admitting the remainder of their kind as well as the Aeserians and the remainder of the mounted Silverarians.

As a defensive measure it was impregnable although it provided little scope for attack. It was perfect for maintaining a shield allowing the army to pass through the gates but each man in the chain relied on the man along side to remain solid and so they could not become an offensive unit lest they weaken the line.

They began collapsing in on themselves as the doors swung open and hundreds of survivors poured into the cracks in the mountain like a storm water filtering into dry ground.

The men protected the gates until the last ally entered the mesa and against a growing pressure of attacking Tusse they turned giant wheels and chains, closing the gates, squeezing some of the Tusse in their jaws as they finally sealed. Every man, Omarin, Aeserian and Silverarian collapsed where they stood and hundreds of women and children rushed to them with medical supplies, water and food, bathing heads both big and small and issuing words of comfort for those who lost friends. Arad sat on the ground getting his breath back when Le Vulk urged he and Minar to come with him.

'Where do we go Le Vulk? I need some rest,' said Arad.

'We go to the roof Messrs. Arad and Minar. It is there we see what the enemy has for us.'

The two Aeserians walked as if in a dream through their ancient homes, eventually reaching the legendary Great Staircase windin inevitably up to the summit of the mesa. They ignored their tired legs as each step revealed new wonders they thought they would never experience. They held no bitter feeling towards the Omarins and wished only the battle to end so they could wade in the beauty around them. Tapestries, murals and assorted art both ancient and more recent, filled the mountain and Arad and Minar could have stood for hours bathing in the beauty. Le Vulk understood their feelings and gave them some moments before he urged them forward.

Finally they reached the summit still burning with the debris of Hammer's catapults, piles of rubbish strewn everywhere and above them the mighty spires pock marked with holes from the tonnes of rock which had pounded the roof over the last few days. Le Vulk took them to the mountain's edge and onto a timber ledge lookout facing south. There clearly, although many hundreds of yards below, stood the defined shapes of Kolin and the Beast as they battled, blow after blow from their weapons causing a lightning blast flaming many feet into the air. Even at this distance they could see the disparity in size between the two, as the black monster swung its weapons tirelessly at the smaller shape of Kolin who desperately jumped and dived to avoid the blows.

A light shone from the brow of Kolin as more and more of the peoples of Mesania came to the top of the mesa to witness the battle below while tide of Tusse harmlessly washed against the mountain side trying to breach the ancient doors leading to into the mesa. In frustration they hacked uselessly at the mountain's girdle blunting and breaking their blades. The sea of bodies settled around the base and with no live enemy to engage they hacked mercilessly at the bodies of the fallen Aeserian and Omarin soldiers. They threw body parts high in the air for the Ratite to devour or chewed on other remains. The allies looked on in revulsion, powerless to stop the desecration. They eventually averted their eyes and above the din below they could hear Kolin and the beast continue their war. As the Aeserians watched breathlessly, two figures sidled up next to them and tugged at their aprons of mail.

'Good to see you survived,' said Isaac to Arad.

'Well I see the little master has managed to avoid the real fighting,' said Minar who smiled down at Darion and Isaac.

'My bleeding all over the enemy would have had little effect,' said Isaac as he peered over the edge.

'How did you manage to get inside before us. I seem to remember some ten thousand Tusse stood between us and the doors.'

'You forget with whom we travel,' said Darion.'A bit of local knowledge led us through some little used paths and directly into the mountain. The others wanted to go straight out to fight but Wodan took them away somewhere and I haven't seen them since. I must say I am worried about them all.' Darion searched the roof expecting to see his friends calmly stroll towards them discussing the weather.

'I hope Kolin beats that ugly brute,' said Isaac 'I wish I was bigger and I would have a go at him myself.'

'There will be plenty of time for heroics,' said Minar. 'I fear Kolin will not defeat this monster however this battle is his alone and we cannot and could not assist. It is why he came on this trek and he will do as best he can. I fear also our urgings will be for nought and we will all have to further defend ourselves and after that I suspect we will fall.'

He said this with such a finality the others felt a cold chill run up their spines.

Darion was lost for words. He had left Le Carra in the infirmary to tend the injured and he climbed onto the roof of the mesa to see if there were anything he could do. The despondent and resigned looks on every face made him feel useless. He assumed Le Tare and the others who were meeting with Wodan would devise a strategy and he hoped also they hurried as time appeared to be short. Below Kolin and the beast still waged their death dance, neither one willing to concede while the eyes of the world watch on.

Wodan suddenly appeared next to them along with Le Bow, their faces blank and shocked with resignation. Wodan spoke in a language none could understand. It was a sing song type of chant drifting from his aged and thin lips and it felt both familiar and alien all at the same time. When he finished, Minar looked at him.

'Is that a funeral dirge?' he asked.

'Not quite. It does however signal a change to come.' Wodan slapped a hand on each of Darion's and Isaac's shoulders. 'You have played your parts well my young friends. It does appear though there is now little else that can be done. Kolin will not last much longer although it is the bravest struggle the beast has had for an eon.'

Wodan threw back his cloak and underneath he wore a bright silver mail suit and at his side a long bright sword in a scabbard covered in jewels. His hair flowed back, revealing a face with the lines of age rinsed from it. The visage was of a young and powerful warrior not much older than themselves, who stood brave and proud.

'The chase finishes here and it is as the Jharnell says. The Raqnarok is nigh, The Gathering of the Gods and the final battle will occur. I cannot drive the creature away and have not prepared a canvas to escape through, it has caught us too quickly. It would take many years to make a new world we can escape to and I believe it is better this way. We are tired of the unknown and the chase. Let us finish what we started a hundred ages ago and for better or worse the universe will have its answer tonight.'

The blazing forest lit the battle field as bright as the noon sun for miles around the mesa. Kolin sidestepped another deadly blow and this time struggled to his feet as exhaustion set in.

'It will not be long now,' said Wodan closing his eyes as if praying and every now and then he would speak to the air in front of him and then wait as if hearing a reply.

Le Bow slammed his sword into the dirt and cried into the air. 'How I wish the Ginningagap would swallow this nightmare where it stood.'

Wodan's eyes snapped open and he stared incredulously at the fuming Le Bow. 'Repeat thyself Le Bow. What is it you just said?'

'I said I wished the Ginningagap, the fabled void at the end of the universe, would swallow the creature and rid us of it forever.'

Wodan looked wide eyed at Le Bow and then at Darion and Isaac and he began chuckling to himself. 'That is it,' he said. 'That must be it. For a hundred millenniums I and my kind have pondered the destruction of the creature and here Le Bow you have stumbled on the answer. But how can I do it?' he said to himself. 'I must enter the battle now or Kolin is lost. I do not have a hundred years at my disposal.'

The others looked at each other with confused faces as Wodan talked to himself. He grabbed Darion and Isaac by their collars and rushed them down from the roof and into the bowls of the mountain, quickly followed by Le Bow, Le Vulk and the Aeserians. They reached Le Tare, Le Fidler, and the Chief of the Silverarians who were rallying the armies for a final assault when Wodan burst among them.

'Quickly get me a canvas and some paints.' They all hesitated until Wodan slammed his sword into the ground cracking the rock in a rent to the depth of a man's knees. 'NOW!'

Le Bow leapt into action and a minute later produced the required materials.

'What is going on Wodan?' asked Darion who was as confused as everyone else.

'I have little time to explain so I will be brief. Isaac and Kolin both said it. We cannot destroy the beast. If we did then an equal amount of good would leave the universe and the evil in the monster is so vast it would assuredly destroy life everywhere. It is the great conundrum that faces us. Destroy the monster without destroying ourselves So, we do not destroy it, we send it into the Ginningagap, the great void. There it will live forever and be unable to do any harm. The balance will be maintained and the creature effectively harmless for all of eternity. The problem is we need to find the Void but maybe we can re create it on the canvas and trap the creature into it. That is the easy part. The hard part is painting a pure void in minutes where it would take a skilled artisan like myself a hundred years. That is the problem and I have the answer.'

They looked at him blankly and he continued.

Wodan calmed his voice and took Darion's shoulders in both hands, his own shoulders relaxing and a knowing and friendly smile on his regal face. 'It is you Darion who will paint the void, it can only be you. 'The Rok of Salvation will deliver the people from the creature.' It is written throughout the Great Book and now I understand it all too clearly.'

'But I can't paint Wodan. You know that. I have never been able to paint, I'm hopeless at it. I can't do this.' Darion knew he was not trying to avoid responsibility. He genuinely believed he was incapable of painting anything at all and certainly not the one picture that could save the world.

'I do not have time to argue. I go to help Kolin. Do the best you can is all I can advise. We will make a last stand on the fields below. Le Vulk, have the armies attack. We go to glory.' Le Vulk, and the Chief immediately began marshalling the troops.

'Minar and Arad, gather your people and Le Tare gather all the brothers of Omarin,' said Wodan. 'We will charge a final charge into the midst of the enemy. Darion and Isaac will need to bring the painting to me on the field and leave the rest to me. Hurry, I feel the Beast is losing patience and when it does all will end very quickly. Do not dawdle, life depends on it.'

Wodan sprinted back up the great Staircase and onto the roof where he measured the wind with a wet finger in the air and leapt off the edge. The crowd gasped as they saw Wodan float quickly and directly to Kolin below, his silver sword bright, reflecting the forest fire below.

'Quickly Darion do as he says,' urged Isaac as Minar, Arad and the others gathered tightly around him.

'Isaac, I can't paint. What makes him think I can paint any better on this world than our own.'

'I don't know much buddy but what I do know is that I trust what he says and if he thinks you can do it, then I believe him. Now start painting.'

Darion picked up a brush and stared blankly at the canvass. 'What does a void look like?' he asked.

'I don't know, just splash some black paint on the canvas and see what happens.'

Darion lifted a black blob of paint from the pallet, dabbling it onto the canvas and spread it around as best he could, trying to cover the entire sheet and after a minute stood back to observe his work. As far as Darion could see, the picture certainly looked black and that was all. He poked and prodded it with his paint brush to see if it possessed a life of its own, like the one in the museum.

'I told you it wouldn't work,' he said. 'It is just a mess of black paint.'

Le Carra arrived and the others told her what Wodan planned and she moved next to her betrothed. 'I do not know about art my Rok but I know a little about feelings and I do not think you tried to paint the Ginningagap. I think you tried to splatter black paint on a canvas, and if that was your goal then you have succeeded. Try again and let me speak to you as you paint and I will tell you all I know of the dream called the 'Ginningagap Void' and you will place the reality into a painting.'

They set up another canvas, again Darion loading his brush with paint and this time hesitated to put any on the canvas. Le Carra held his hand and spoke softly to him. 'Our legends say the Ginningagap lies on the edge of the universe and in it goes all the evils of the world. Every lie and deceit, cheated love and evil thoughts stream like a river to the Void so when we die we leave the bad behind and take the good remaining in us to the next life. It is a place as dark as our darkest thoughts. It appears in our dreams, on the edge of consciousness and it is where the creature belongs.'

Darion closed his eyes listening to the soft sweet voice of Le Carra. He could now picture in his mind the Void. It became more than just a dark place, a blob of pitch. It possessed a life, and even though no light came from it, its verve was as subtle as a dream of a kiss.

He began painting, first with his eyes closed and then slowly opening. The canvass filled with paint and although it looked like the first in colour, it appeared to have its own contours, and shifted like an ocean's currents, waves ebbing and flowing through the darkness, a bottomless pit of sombre, breathing life. He sat back staring, as did the others, at the final result. Everyone who saw it shivered as if the painting gave off its own cold, chilling the bones. The black was deep and intense, heaving with an unseen energy.

Darion took his brush and tried prodding the painting and to his amazement the tip of the brush disappeared into the void. He quickly pulled it out and it appeared unharmed so he thrust it further in. An unseen forced tried to whip the brush from his grasp and he fell forward with shock, his hand falling into the canvas. Le Carra pulled him back before the rest of him fell all the way in and he sat back breathing heavily.

'It felt like someone had hold of my hand and they tried to pull me inside. It froze my blood.' Le Carra rubbed her hands over Darion's arm cold and thick with goose bumps. He recovered and stared at what he created.

A timber frame kept the canvas rigid. Isaac and Le Bow bent their knees and tried to lift the painting expecting it to be heavy however they had no trouble and moved as quick as they could down to the doors of the mountain. Le Fidler, Darion and Le Carra walked in front of the painting urging everyone to keep clear of it lest they fall in.

They reached the doors and the remaining army of the allies gathered quietly in attack groups. Le Tare stood on a pedestal so he could see his troops and Minar and Arad joined him.

'We are come to the final assault my peoples. Beside you are the race of Aeserians who built the world you live in and next to them our long sundered brothers from Silver City. We must forget our differences and work together for as sure as I stand here if we do not then the filth outside will live within these walls. The beast is abroad and battles the legendary Kolin the Great and Wodan our Saviour. You are living in times only the Jharnell foretold and if we win the day, you will fill a chapter in the appendix of the great book as heroes of the world. We make directly for the beast as fast as the enemy allows. Do not diverge. We must make a path for The Rok of Salvation and his friends for it is his hands we place our lives. The Allies of Salnikovia are come.'

Le Tare met Le Vulk and Le Fidler who drew their swords and pointed towards the doors which slowly began to swing open. Within seconds the portal was breached by scores of Tusse pushed by the force of the numbers behind them. The battle at the gates was fierce and short, as the van of the Omarins hacked at the Tusse. The Aeserians reformed the remainder of their grosses now dwindled by a third and they too charged into the blazing magic light from the forest. The dark of the insides of the mesa was lifted by the light of the white forest fire and it took a few seconds for their eyes to adjust. Once they fully exited the mountain, they could see the huge swarms of Tusse and Ratites. The Allies army burst upon them ignoring the absurd numbers against them and fighting like they were the ones who held the advantage.

The initial fighting went well and they carved large inroads into the Tusse army until the volume of Tusse numbers began swamping the allies. The Tusse fought with venom and aggression, slowly gaining them ascendency. The beast seemed to inject them with a fearlessness they did not previously possess and even their fighting skills improved. They did not seem so quick to die and more accurate and canny in attack. The whole of the defender's army now stood in the open and the great doors of Mesania swung closed stopping any retreat. Le Vulk could be seen sitting on his horse directing attacks and defences, always moving towards the shock of lightning a few hundred yards away.

He looked across the field and saw Le Tare along with Le Fidler and Le Bow form a brigade around Darion and Isaac, urging a number of other men to protect the painting. A huge Ratite swooped down, snatching Le Vulk, and raising him off his steed and into the air. Le Bow cried in shock as the Ratite flew above them, carrying Le Vulk by digging its claws deep into his back. Le Fidler pulled a long hunting knife from his boot, took aim at the creature and let fly with a throw. They all watched unmoving as the knife pierced the air with a long high whistle and sunk directly into neck of the bird. It let out a cry of pain dropping Le Vulk who landed with a thud into a cluster of Tusse. As he fell, Le Fidler and Le Bow moved quickly to reach him before any of the Tusse had a chance to attack the fallen body. To their amazement Le Vulk sat up leaning on his good shoulder and shook his head.

'Are you made of stone?' asked Le Bow checking his friends injured shoulder as he spoke. He knew the Ratites talons were dipped in poison and expected Le Vulk to be dead in seconds. Le Vulk's thick mail shirt and leather jerkin were only partly torn and it seemed the skin remained unbroken. 'Well Le Vulk, you are lucky indeed not to have been worse hurt. I think I will stay next to you for the rest of the night. If that didn't kill you nothing will.'

They looked back at the troop Le Tare led and saw them heavily under attack. Le Tare did what he could but the numbers of Tusse were forcing him into defense. Isaac and Darion put the canvas down against a rock and unsheathed their swords and joined Le Tare.

'I have had it with these things Darion,' said Isaac fending off another blow. 'What did our old football coach once say? 'The best form of defence is attack.' so lets attack.'

They immediately used all their reserves of strength and swung heavily at the Tusse in front of them. They struck hard and true at the monsters, stabbing and hacking until a clear path formed in front of them.

'Good stuff,' said Isaac with a gleam in his eye as he wiped the blood from his sword on a dead Tusse. 'Where are the rest?' He looked around and a squad of Tusse ran directly at him. 'Oh here they are,' he called.

As the enemy reached them, Le Bow, Le Fidler and the recovered Le Vulk attacked the Tusse from the side and killed most in a few seconds.

One larger Tusse sidestepped the rest and headed for Darion who blocked a heavy blow and followed with a smart punch to the side of its head. The Tusse was stunned for a moment then swung around and attacked ferociously until Darion lay on his back, the Tusse on top of him and their swords crossed at his throat. The Tusse forced its blade down while Darion tried to push it up and away. Their grips tightened and for a moment neither could find an advantage and break the sword lock. The Tusse's jaundice eyes and dripping fangs breathed down on Darion exuding a stench floating into his mouth and making him gag.

Darion's strength ebbed as the sword came closer to his throat. He managed to wriggle and slide first one knee and then the other under the chest of the monster and he kicked out as hard as he could. The Tusse went flying off him and hit the ground on its feet. It lost balance, staggering backwards and fell against the painting. For a moment it looked stuck to the canvas and tried to prepare itself for another attack when it screamed. The painting sucked at the creatures back which disappeared into the blackness of the picture and left only its arms, legs and head sticking out. In an instant the rest of the Tusse disappeared, an oily 'plop' sound the only residue of the beast.

The others looked in amazement at where the Tusse had stood and all at once realised the power of their weapon. They had to get to Wodan.

They fought with renewed energy and waded through the Tusse. In the distance they could see Kolin and the beast locked in battle and then the familiar sight of Wodan circling the fray.

Kolin struggled to keep away from the monster. When the forest first roared into fiery life he thought it an advantage as he could now see from whence the beast attacked. Now he wished the light was gone so he could try to plot an escape or at least a diversion to allow him more time. He smiled crookedly, and chastised himself for trying to prolong an inevitable defeat. His innate power and pride forbade a soft surrender. He would fight to his last breath which unfortunately he could feel fast approaching.

He rolled again to his side and felt the breath of the monster as it again missed a clean hit on him and he could feel the tension in the enemy as it prepared to spring another attack. Kolin knew he was more agile than any of his kin, though even the most balanced can topple under pressure. He took several steps backwards and held his sword ahead of him when he tripped on the tiniest of tree roots, a mere sprig in the ground and he fell over onto his back as his sword sprayed out of his hand, tantalisingly out of reach.

The monster leapt at the opportunity and hovered over the defenceless Kolin, its talons aimed at his face and neck as it dropped its full weight down towards the leader of the Aeserians. As it started its descent, a weight landed on its back and began to drive huge welts into its spiny scales. Hit after hit assailed the beast as Wodan rode the monster like a rodeo bull, being lifted high off its back as it bucked and flailed its wings trying to dislodge him.

Wodan somersaulted off its back and landed perfectly on his two feet, slightly crouched in attack stance, his sword posted high and behind his shoulder, both his gloved hands holding the hilt. To every onlooker it seemed he and not the monster led the death dance.

Kolin rose to his feet.

'The beast is as strong as you said Wodan. It seems to delight in the battle.'

'It sure does,' answered Wodan absently as he searched the area for a more defensive position. 'Go to your people Kolin, they need you more than I.'

They both dived full length to either side of the beast as it made another lunge with its black sword, narrowly missing the flying legs of Kolin who rolled to his feet and ran back to Wodan.

'I would like to abide but I do not think the beast will allow me to take my leave.'

Two swipes from the black trident of the beast sent Wodan and Kolin both flying through the air. Enormous sparks like lightning sprouted across the battle field as it raised its trident high in the air, pulverising a distant outcropping of rock, leaving crumbs and dust in its wake.

With a fury surprising both of them the monster attacked again and this time neither man had time to flee, the trident coming down on both of them, their swords held high meeting the blow just above their heads. The metal swords and trident clashed and locked above their eyes as the beast added its weight to the downwards pressure, its boiling breath singing their hair and arms. The metals began to warm and redden with heat as the three powers directed all their strengths into their blades. Hotter and hotter the weapons became and the red made way for white as the metal began to change form and become soft and pliable. The monster sensed victory and forced down even harder onto the two men until their own blades formed teardrops of molten metal dripping towards their faces.

A long bead of metal began to slowly fall towards Kolin, the viscous metal stretching and elongating inches at a time. The droplet hung a hairsbreadth from Kolin's sweating forehead when the monster was suddenly knocked off its feet by an airborne Arad who hit the beast with his shoulder as hard as he could.

Arad felt like he ran at full pace into a stone wall covered in broken glass, so hard did the hide of the monster feel and he hit the ground hard.

Kolin and Wodan regained their feet while Arad struggled to recover from the enormous jolt to his body.

He raised himself on an elbow when he felt the white-hot heat of the beasts sword as it passed through his chest. He looked up and saw the black shape silhouetted against the yellow and white of the forest fires behind him and saw into the beasts mouth to the emptiness within it.

The monster twisted the sword, making the hole bigger and pierced Arad's lungs. Rather than scream, Arad held onto the beast's sword with his mail gloved hands and pulled himself to his feet and stared imperiously at the deliverer of his death.

The beast let out a roar of victory and raised Arad off the ground and flung him across the battle field and left him in a dying heap, his blood spilling out of the gap in his chest and onto the remaining square of grassland on the battlefield.

Kolin let out a cry of despair, launching a ferocious attack on the beast along with Minar who now also entered the battle. Minar's eyes shone with anger as he too fought with the beast. Kolin hit the enemy twice along its thick hide, his blows harmlessly deflecting. It swung an arm and tossed Kolin through the air like a toy. Minar had greater success slamming his sword onto the talons of the beast and severing one completely. They creature unleashed a roar of pain freezing battle field. Cold fear pulsed in their bodies and minds causing some to drop their swords and cower in the dirt covering their ears from the noise.

The monster threw down its trident and reaching forward like lightning took Minar by the collar and flung him a hundred feet into the sky, watching as the body crashed against the mountain and sank to its base.

The beast turned slowly and faced Wodan who remained defiant and now alone on the battle field.

'Seems it was always going to come down to you and me Muntare,' said Wodan. 'The chase is over and the future will be decided in minutes after eons uncounted. Throw down your weapons and I may offer you my clemency.'

The beast opened its mouth and a blast of hot air and flame hit Wodan, engulfing him, his body barely visible through the sheet of yellow and blue. In reply a chilled wind sprang up and blew the flames away and Wodan emerged unharmed.

'You need to do better than that,' he challenged, flicking a hidden dirk from under his sleeve and sending careering into the monsters thigh.

The beast looked down at the knife and fired a blue flame at its own leg, watching the knife melt away.

It leapt at Wodan who dodged and sent a deep blow into the other leg of the beast who this time yelped a guttural noise in pain and anger. It swung clumsily and missed Wodan who dropped to one knee and swung another blow into the tendons at the back of the creature's ankle.

This time the beast became more wary in its attack as it realised Wodan did not flee like he had a million times before. The monster was confused. For time uncounted the champion fled and he chased, but here it stayed and fought, and in such a fashion he could be dangerous.

'If you choose to remain then you choose to die,' said the beast, coughing the words out of its black mouth. It hit Wodan with another flurry of blows this time with no intention of ceasing until Wodan lay dead on the battlefield.

Initially Wodan blocked the blows easily. Each time he parried however, another edge of the trident stabbed at him and as he repelled this charge another presented itself. The monster rained blows on him, some ineffectual and many others beginning to strike. For the second time the beast hovered above Wodan and forced him slowly down onto his back. In a minute it would be over thought Wodan calmly. I pity those who remain.

The monster focused completely on the destruction of Wodan and took little notice of the two small men who crawled near his legs. Isaac and Darion followed Minar and Arad but could not keep up while carrying the picture and fighting Tusse. From the moment the monster began its last attack on Wodan, the remainder of the Tusse decided to observe their master rather than continue the battle themselves. The tor Wodan and the monster occupied looked like a crown of brown and green surrounded by an ocean of Tusse and allies, who stood mesmerised by the battle.

'Now what?' asked Isaac, who along with Darion placed the picture as close as they dared to the monster.

'Are we just going to leave this here and hope the black devil trips into it?'

'How should I know,' replied Darion. 'Why don't you go up and ask the sod if it wouldn't be too much trouble would it like to take a holiday in the Ginningagap.'

Isaac could see Wodan losing the battle. The Saviour straining with all his might to repel the irrepressible attack. He could not survive much longer thought Isaac. In a burst of clarity Isaac knew why he was born. All the years of self-indulgence and frivilousness, the cheap jokes and general lust for the easy way out, filled his mind. He had done nothing with his life while others like Wodan and Kolin and Arad and Minar lived for others. He felt a shame he did not know possible as he saw his friends dying around him. Kolin was barely conscious, Arad was a bleeding mass not far from him and Minar's broken body was wedged unnaturally against the base of the mountain and even the thought of Hammer cried at his heart. They all lived to achieve great things or died trying. He drew his sword, a small trifling iron dart and he knew what was required.

'I think I just might do that.' Ignoring Darion's protests he rushed towards Wodan. The monster dismissed the sight of Isaac running under his feet. This was nothing to be wary of it told itself, another insect who would disappear once Wodan had been vanquished. Isaac used the beast's scales as a ladder and he sprung up the inside if the its legs and within a few heartbeats drove his sword into the groin of the beast. Initially the monster did not react and then a sickening feeling grabbed at its stomach as it peered down and saw a stream of green blood coursing down its leg. The pain hit it in a nausea crumpling it to its knees as it held onto the wound as tight as it could.

Wodan sprung to his feet and caught Isaac by the arm and both jumped clear of the falling monster.

'Well done my boy, very well done indeed,' said Wodan dragging a stupefied Isaac along with him, the magnitude of what he just did sending him into a light shock. He was covered in the beasts green thick blood and the stench made him dry retch as he ran.

They reached Darion who stood guard around the painting, his sword raised confidently.

'Are you all right Isaac?' he asked as the men arrived.

'Don't worry about him, he will be all right. What of the painting, did you complete it?'

Wodan inspected the black canvas and in a few seconds looked at Darion with a new respect.

'You have done it my son. You have the gift,' said Wodan as he caressed the sides of the painting lovingly. 'It was an honour meeting you.' To both the friends amazement Wodan went down on both knees and took Darion's hands in his. He opened the palms and kissed them and gently closed them together.

'Take care of this idiot,' he said as he pointed to Isaac. He drew his sword and rushed back to the beast.

The monster recovered and saw Wodan running towards him and he attacked to meet the challenge. The sword and trident met again and again and each time Wodan backed away towards where Darion and Isaac held the painting. They fought with huge strokes of their weapons. Each clash and each new blow brought them closer to the canvas. Without warning Wodan turned around and with a quick smile at the boys he dived into the black of the canvass and vanished in a 'plop.' The monster hesitated for only a moment and it too sent first its trident and then the rest of it into the black of the painting its huge form squeezing like toothpaste as the black picture devoured it.

Isaac and Darion looked at each other not sure what to do when a thin voice seemed to eke out of the canvass. 'Destroy the painting, hurry before it is too late.'

The boys hesitated and then looked around them for something they could use to do as Wodan asked. A flying ember had ignited a small pile of leaves near them and Darion rushed over and lit a dead branch. He burnt the edge of the canvass which blackened and caught fire and quickly covered the entire work. In minutes the canvass was a sea of yellow quickly coiling into a pile of flaked paper. Isaac stamped on the ashes and soon nothing remained of the portal to the Ginningagap.
We can see no Further.

The future is covered in a deep mist.

Perhaps it has not been written

And is in the hands of the victor

Jharnell 96/27-30
Chapter 14

Isaac and Darion stared at the ashes and then each other. 'He's gone,' said Isaac in a croaked voice. The sounds of the battle around them diminished and the boys had tears on their cheeks. 'We killed him.'

Both men felt a heavy hand on their shoulders. 'Think Isaac,' said Kolin standing next to them virtually unscathed from the battle with Muntare. 'Wodan knew what he was doing. They are neither of them dead. They have entered the void and it is there they will remain. There will be no fighting and no murder in the night, for it is always night there and nothing beyond. They live but cannot live. They are suspended in the void for all of eternity with his action the balance remains. The evil of the beast still exists, as does the good of Wodan and the world we are in moves on.'

'He has made the greatest sacrifice he could. He forever looked for the secret, trying to find the hero to save us all and all the time it was he.'

Darion was thoughtful. 'The beast would never have willingly entered the Ginningagap. I suppose it was inextricably linked to Wodan and it could not resist following him.'

'Correct little Darion, the Rok of Salvation. Wodan's sacrifice has granted the rest of us life and he will be known so forever. I give him my Aeserian name Wodan the Great and he will be the only to wear this mantle.'

The three turned to the battle field and saw the Tusse armies dissipate in front of them. The Aeserians and Omarins slaughtering many thousands more of the Tusse as they retreated and the remaining Ratite fled to their eyries at the Ice Mountain. Bands of Tusse were trying to escaped south and west and the Silver City armies followed them led by the Chief Marshall, to ensure their own lands would be free from menace.

To the East, the less orderly Tusse were scattering across the plains like mice when a light comes on, disappearing into the smouldering forests, a leaderless rabble. It took less time for the battlefield to clear than it did to form and soon only the dead and dying bodies of allies and enemy alike remained lying on the blood soaked earth while the giant Aeserians and the smaller Omarins began tending their wounded.

Le Tare, Le Fidler and a bloody Le Vulk, ran towards Darion and Isaac. Le Fidler had a huge smile on his pock marked face as he and Le Bow took the boys him in an embrace.

They looked around at battle weary faces not yet seem fully aware they had been victorious. The smoke cleared and the men saw a limping Minar struggle with the limp body of Arad cradled in his arms. Tears fell down his drawn face as he lowered the body respectfully to the ground.

'Here lies Arad and I call him again Arad the Generous, and in him the spirit of the Jotenhiem of our ancestors lived.' Minar kept stroking the forehead of Arad and the others gathered around the huge form, their heads lowered. Isaac slowly walked to the body and kneeled next to the enormous round face, the curly brown hair covering his eyes. Arad face was ashen and streaked with blood. Mud and dirt plastered his body and his clothes were charred from the monsters breath. The heat had thankfully sealed some of the wounds while others leaked blood freely. His chest was open from the monsters blow and bits of flesh and muscle hung raggedly from his jerkin.

'You were my first friend in this strange land Arad. I will miss you.' Isaac stroked the giant's head with his tiny hand and he pulled it away as if it burnt him

'His head is hot. He is not dead just unconscious.'

Kolin knelt besides Isaac and placed an ear to his chest. 'Isaac is right, he breathes yet although shallow. I fear this reprieve may only be temporary. We need to get him to the city.'

Minar and Kolin gathered Arad and moved as quick as they dared mindful of Arad's fragile state and headed to the gates of the mountain. Hundreds of Omarins and Aeserians moved in the same direction like an arrow head and many stopped to marvel at Kolin who to this moment they had only heard fought in the battle. Even dirty and battle scared, he stood an enormous figure, his shield and sword glistening at his side and his warrior face full of concern for his fallen friend. All that saw him, be they Omarins or Aeserians, saw a King.

Le Tare arrived and the armies parted to allow the group through the gates now opened to allow the armies to pour in.

'Bring him this way,' said Le Tare as he led the way into the mesa and past the great Staircase. 'We have an infirmary where we can do our best with the medicine we have.'

'I know these walls Le Tare, I lived here for centuries.' Le Tare did not reply and led the group to the only hospital in Mesania. It was ill equipped to handle the numbers now filling the room which was nothing more than a large hall. In it the Mesanians erected hundreds of makeshift beds filling quickly with bodies both large and small. White coated doctors and nurses sped from table to table administering poultices onto wounds and foreheads and doing their best to stem the bleeding from hundreds of wounds. Darion looked around in despair. It was not the images of the dead and dying affecting him, rather the groans of pain or the silence as another died which stunned him. He approached one bloodied man who lay on a makeshift bed. The man looked at him and reached out an arm.

'Have you seen my friend Le Gream,' he asked. 'I am sure he needs help.' Darion looked at the bandage covered man. The doctor tending him shook his head slowly and Darion knew this man would not last the night. He felt shame he could not shake. This man would shortly die and his final thoughts are for another. Darion felt tears pooling in his eyes.

'I will do my best to find your friend. Now rest while you can.' He stroked the bandaged forehead which brought a slight smile from the man.

'Come this way Darion,' said Isaac as he pulled at Darion's sleeve.

Darion shook him free. 'You go ahead and tend Arad. I have to stay here and do what I can.' Isaac looked at his best friend through new eyes. Darion was no longer a timid intellectual, reserved and shy. What he saw was a man, multi skilled, strong, caring and a glow of leadership about him he had never recognised before. Darion moved from body to body stroking cheeks, whispering to scared faces and helping clean wounds. It was an image Isaac wound never forget. Many other hands joined his and soon there seemed to be more carers than injured, Darion directing them effortlessly to those in most need until the groans abated and smiles replaced frowns on many faces. He followed the rest of his group as they entered an antechamber and he could clearly hear a low peaceful chant of 'The Rok heals, The Rok heals,' pulsing through the hall.

The antechamber housed a single enormous bed and Kolin lay Arad gently down and covered him with a sheet.

'I have many skills,' he said, 'but I cannot heal him. He has lost too much blood. His wounds can be healed, his blood we cannot replace so easily. He may be strong however his injuries are great and I cannot see him living any longer than a few hours. I have stemmed the bleeding and he rests as best he can. Minar openly cried watching his best friend dying and he hammered a table with sledge like fists in frustration.

'It cannot be allowed Kolin. We have come so far and now in victory the gods take one of the best among us. It makes no sense to me.'

Le Bow watched the face of Arad as it sunk into a paler and paler shade of grey and he excused himself from the group and took Darion in search of Le Carra. He quickly found her, knowing where she would be, tending to the injured.

He hugged her tightly and took her and Darion to one side looking seriously into her face.

'Sister the time has come. The mighty Arad whom we know, is dying. It is time to show yourself?'

Immediately Le Carra sped to the antechamber and pushed the others away. She looked for a long time at the big man's face and examined his wounds, concern etched across her beautiful face. She gently touched the charred skin and the deep wounds across Arad's body and then she sat back looking quite exhausted.

'His wounds are very great,' she said in a resignation. 'They seem to great for my skills. A normal man would already be dead. He has lost too much blood.'

Darion seemed to hesitate and then looked to have made a decision. He took Le Carra's hand and spoke.

'Le Carra there may be a way for me to transfer some of your blood into Arad. Maybe by doing this your regenerative powers could transfer to him.'

'But how can this be done?' she asked shaking her head in wonder. 'I cannot take a bottle of my blood and pour it into Arad although I would give it all if I could.'

Darion knew she was serious. She would willingly sacrifice herself for others just as a queen would. 'I think we can do it. We need to work quickly and I need to speak to your glass makers and artisans. Time is of the essence.' Isaac picked up on Darion's thoughts.

'Are you going to try a blood transfusion? They wouldn't have needles or plastics. How are you going to do it? And besides she is so tiny compared to him, there wouldn't be enough blood in a hundred Le Carras to replenish Arad. And don't forget we have no idea about blood types here and you could kill Arad if they are a mismatch.'

'I know all that,' said Darion, 'She is not merely a beauty queen but a queen of nations and here that means you have some special gifts. She has some incredible powers of recuperation. I'm betting a pint of her blood would be enough to transfer some of those powers to Arad, at least temporarily and maybe long enough for him to recover. We don't have another option really. It is this or watch him die and as far as equipment, have you seen some of the art work on the wall and sitting on tables. I have seen drinking straws made of the finest glass I have ever seen and they do have needles here I have seen them. They must use them for embroidery or something. They are hollow, strong and as fine as anything we have back home for medicine. We only need a tube and I am sure there would be rubber tubes somewhere especially if they are surrounded by forest, some of those trees must have sap in them.'

Le Bow and Le Fidler took a list of what Darion required and soon they returned with the requested materials, as well as enormous crowd as word spread of an ancient princess living among them. Most Mesanians knew the legends of the magical queens of their past, who could only perish from old age and rarely from wounds and disease, their bodies blessed with altered mortality. They lived long and seldom died before their time unless war came to them.

Darion lay Le Carra down next to Arad and spoke to her softly so no-one else could hear. 'Do you trust me Le Carra, I would never hurt you?'

'I trust you with my only life my love, you need not ask such a question.'

'And you are all right to do this?'

'Of course. It is you who have asked and that is enough. I also cannot watch this great and good man die when I can save him. You must do what you can.'

'How about when this is all over, we go on a holiday somewhere, just you and me and we can get up late everyday and swim and walk in the sun just the two of us.'

'It sounds like a dream. I like the part about getting up late and we can go to bed early as well,.' she spoke with a mischievous gleam in her eye that meant only one thing and Darion felt himself going red all over. She caressed his face with her tiny soft hand and her smile made him love her more.

He instructed Le Tare and Le Fidler to place all the objects in a pot of boiling water and washed his own hands and after five minutes he was ready. He asked everyone to step back and he and Isaac placed a tourniquet on her arm and flicked her forearm and crease in her elbow for a vein. The perfectly round needles and the rubber hose and jar for the blood were no worse than anything he could have found back home. Le Carra closed her eyes and Darion gently slipped the needle into her vein. She jumped slightly at the initial pin prick and then relaxed and watched as a jar filled with her crimson blood. The others in the room gasped and Le Bow placed a hand on Darion in support.

'I know you would do her no harm, tell me what you do.'

'Well, I take some of Le Carra's blood. Not enough for her to be harmed at all. Within a couple of days her body will reproduce that amount again so long as she rests and doesn't try to do too much and eats and drinks well she will be fine. I will then transfer this blood into Arad.' With this he turned to the group. 'People there are a great many things that can go wrong here. More importantly if we do nothing then Arad will die. He may not be the same blood type as Le Carra and even if the transfusion is successful there is no guarantee he will recover the way Le Carra does. It is chance only and that is all we have.'

The group did not understand what Darion meant by blood types or even what the recuperative powers of Le Carra might really be. They only knew the Rok of Salvation, demanded it and this served them well enough.

Darion slipped the needle from Le Carra's arm and placed a small bandage around it and kissed her smiling lips gently, as Isaac prepared the bottle. He transferred the blood into a leather water flask used for travelling and placed a lid on it. He punctured a hole for another tube and needle, this time larger than the first for Arad's larger arm. They hung the flask above Arad and restarted the process this time slowly squeezing the bottle to allow a gentle flow of blood from the flask into Arad's arm. At first they struggled to create enough pressure for the blood to flow as it fought the giant's own blood pressure. Eventually a steady stream left the bottle, travelling into Arad's arm. The amount looked a trifling compared to the huge form of Arad and soon the flask was empty and everyone stared at Arad, looking for any sign of change.

At first nothing happened and then noticeably his face began to lose some of its ashen features and coloured into the red they knew so well.

Le Carra rose rubbing her arm and joined them as they surrounded the table watching as Arad's wounds began to seal, the scarred and charred skin softening and returning to normal. Slowly he began to breath deeper and his eyes began fluttering until they opened completely and he sat up on one arm.

'What happened, I'm hungry,' he said to the cheers and laughter of all his friends.

'Then we must get the man a cow to eat,' said Minar as he hugged his friend and the rest all patted him on the back and took their turns embracing him. Isaac jumped onto the bed and tried throwing his arms around the Aeserian's giant neck and Arad returned the embrace. 'I think you and Darion might have something to do with this, have you?' asked Arad with a broad smile on his round face.

'With a little help from Le Carra,' said Isaac.

Kolin moved to Darion and Le Carra and took their tiny hands in his.

'It has been written there are great ones among us and we seldom know it and here are two of these to be sure.'

The crowd cheered and slapped each other on the back and choruses of, 'The Queen has come,' spread throughout the cavities of Mesania with throngs of people pressing towards the market circle. A carnival seemed to erupt spontaneously as the victors began their celebrations. Darion and Isaac chatting to people they did not know like family and the giant figures of the Aeserians were lauded and led to the eateries to join the celebrations. The whole mountain seemed to be released from a darkness they did not realise they lived with. Relief filled all the faces and the world seemed to be a far less violent and conflicting place.

Le Tare took Le Fidler, Le Bow and Le Vulk, to ensure a government of sorts still existed and to recruit men to oversee the celebrations so they did not degenerate into chaos. Everyone felt excited and even those in the infirmary brightened at the news of Queen Le Carra, who miraculously appeared, was leading them out of the darkness of the Black order's reign as well as the uniting of all the races of Salnikov.

Darion looked to his fiancé and he could see doubt and pain on her face. He put his arm around her.

'What is the matter, are you feeling sick from the transfusion?'

She smiled bleakly, 'Not the transfusion itself my love. What of all the others who are dying right now in this mountain. We could walk only a few feet and see men and women dying from their wounds. Can my blood save them?' Tears welled in her eyes at the thought. She guessed the answer before Darion could speak.

'You don't have an endless supply of blood Le Carra. If you give more than you did then you could get anaemia or worse. We shouldn't try that again for at least three months. You simply do not have enough for all the people of the world.'

Le Carra thought about this and began crying freely. 'So I am to watch others die when I can save them? I should keep my gift to myself. How can I live so selfish.'

'I do not know the answer Le Carra. We did as best as we could in a difficult circumstance. I do know one thing and that is you cannot be the saviour of the world.'

'Why not, you are?'

She slipped into a maudlin mood Darion did not like and it worried him.

'People die Le Carra, sometimes we help and at other times nothing we do can stop it. That is the life we have been allotted. Your gift is yours alone and there may be times when you can share this and other times when you cannot. I think you will know when that time is and maybe we can do this again. I believe sincerely no one, especially those who gave you your gift, expect you be anything other than what you are.'

Le Carra seemed to take comfort from Darion's words and she held his hand tightly. 'I am beginning to understand the burden you must bear as the Rok of Salvation.'

Darion hugged her shoulders as they shook from her tears and he led her to the others who drank and sang freely. Le Vulk and Le Tare took Kolin, Minar and Arad on a tour of the mountain and they began formulating a way where they could coexist.

'It will be difficult to convince your people to give up territory,' said Arad now feeling much better and quite hungry. He ate what the Omarins would consider a platter of food in one gulp and looked around for more.

'More importantly I would think you will empty the granary in a few hours Arad the Large Stomach,' said Le Tare. Arad seemed aggrieved but got over it as Minar agreed with Le Tare.

'It is true that we cannot live together under the current structure. We would all starve.'

'And with hungry stomachs come short tempers. We don't want a civil war in a fledgling nation,' said Kolin. 'I will not permit or tolerate any misgivings of generosity if it will fuel old hatreds. If Le Tare and Le Vulk will permit us, we will recover from our wounds and return to our lands. We will commence regular commerce between the two cities of Mesania and Salnikovia and welcome emigration and transfer between the two. The merchant class will no doubt lead the way in this as they find new markets for their wares. Perhaps small settlements will develop.' Kolin stood tall and regal, looking over walls of murals as they walked slowly through the mesa. 'It will be hard to leave these lands and some of my people will resist but rather than rule we will share this land over time and we leave not as refugees, but rather as equals and allies. Our races will be friends if I have to break the neck of every Omarin and Aeserian to make it so. I know it will take time and as I possess some power of prescience, I can foresee a golden era for the people of Salnikov. We will extend our alliances to the people of the Silver City, who were our friends when we needed them most, and a commonwealth will develop. There are great times ahead if we work together. There are no more monsters left to divide us.'

The group wished the words of Kolin could be heard by more than just themselves, for they felt a vitality and sense of hope they never knew before. Images swept into their minds of parades and pennons, feasts and parties and always the two races talking and laughing together. As if Kolin read their minds he pointed to a hollow in the wall nearest him.

'I remember the acoustics Le Tare. My words carried further than you remember they can.'

Surely enough Kolin's speech was broadcast through the pocketed cavities of the mesa magnified in some places and mere whispers in others. The same vents which helped the rebellion, now transferred words of hope and peace throughout the mesa and cheers could be heard erupting throughout.

Arm in arm Minar and Arad reached down to Le Tare and Le Vulk who took their hands. 'It is curious,' said Arad. 'Our people could not wait to reclaim their lands and now I am desperate to return to Salnikovia. It is the land of my birth and I love it more than where I am, although I recognise the depth of the roots of my family here. My home is on the eastern shores and I want for it now.'

'I too want to go home Kolin. It is enough for me to know I can travel to these parts and see my new friends at my will and not be forbidden. It is freedom and it is all we have wanted.'

'You forget one thing,' said Kolin. 'You are exiled from your lands.' Kolin saw the worried looks and smiled as he lent towards one of the vents. 'Here now all Aeserians. I Kolin, your king has returned and forthwith we go back to our homes in Salnikovia to tell all of our new friends in the west. We return with Arad, who I redeem as the Generous and the Source of Peace and Minar the Loyal whom I re-admit to the empire. Their exile expunged from the records due to brave deeds in battle for our people.' He turned back to his friends. 'There that should do it.'

Kolin smiled at his friends. 'I have said it before and I know it is true. You are the true stock of the Jontenhiems of past, incarnate again. We will leave as soon as all are well.'

The men continued walking, running their hands along the walls stopping to admire a piece of art from bygone days and equally casting appreciating eyes over the Omarins works. They dawdled and talked and met hundreds of both races as Arad continued to be plied with food and drink.

Darion, Le Carra and Isaac ran up behind them along with Le Bow and Le Fidler who also joined the group.

'Kolin, I think I might have a surprise for you,' said Darion. They moved to within a few feet of where Darion entered the mountain weeks earlier and he thought now as good a time as any to reveal his secret. He worried about the remains of the ancient battle inciting animosity, but the explosion seemed to clear the hall and tunnels of vestiges of the past and maybe they could all get some closure.

He spotted the coin he placed next to the opening when he arrived, picked it up, and searched the wall until he felt a slight recess. Reaching up he pushed slightly against where he guessed the handle would be and slowly and silently the wall opened and the light of their tunnel streamed into the cavity.

He had not noticed it before, but the walls did not seem to be made of rock, as he suspected and they gave off a yellow hue. He looked closer and the cave was enclosed by golden walls. The Aeserians and Omarins immediately knew where they were and they urgently cleared the rocks and rubble from their path, moving down the corridor and into the main hall where a slight smell from the tar still could be sensed. The Aeserians reverently trod over every crack and rock, picking up a blackened sword here and an arrow head there and surveyed the whole room. They moved to the tunnel where Darion nearly got burned to a cinder and ran their hands over the walls. Darion originally thought the murals had been destroyed and now he saw the explosions had merely covered them in black carbon from the smoke which they easily removed, revealing the faces of long dead soldiers.

Wordlessly they moved to the empty trophy room where the view to the west held them all captive. The smouldering forest far below and the line of mountains further afield with the great Ice Mountain covering the horizon and leaping into the air higher by far than where they stood, left them breathless. Further still they could espy a line of blue signalling the oceans of both their pasts.

'The view is as I remember it,' said Kolin. 'It is beautiful.'

'Darion you are forever coming up with a new trick,' said Le Bow as he and his sister walked to the edge.

'We will repair these walls and this will be a great chamber mighty Kolin. Please trust me with this charge, I will make this the most beautiful place in existence with a throne for you and the Queen Le Carra perched on the edge so you can both see to the ends of your realms.' To their surprise it was Le Vulk who spoke and his sincerity touched Kolin.

'Then the charge is yours Le Vulk the Brave. We will return in a years time and see you to your word.'

Le Vulk bowed and left in a hurry as if a year was no where near long enough and he needed to start immediately.

The rest walked to the ledge and continued pondering the horizon leaving Isaac and Darion alone.

'Well old pal, what now? It looks like you have the power. Let's find a room like old Wodan used and you can get about painting a nice picture of say Paris or London and we can go home.'

Darion smiled crookedly. 'Yes I suppose we can do what we like. I don't really know if home is where I want to be.' He looked longingly at the sleek form of Le Carra as she draped her arm around her brother's waist, standing as elegantly as the queen she was.

'Well it was a nice thought,' said Isaac. 'You know she is going to be queen around here and what does that make you, her consort, her king I don't know. Whatever you are called, she will be pretty busy.' Isaac did not know why he wasted his breath. Darion wasn't going anywhere. He would do what ever Le Carra wanted and he knew Le Carra wanted Darion and thus ends the debate.

'I could send you home,' said Darion nervously. 'If that's what you want.'

'Look, I would love to go home Darion but what about poor Arad, he would be lost without me. I would like to see a bit more of this place first and have you seen some of the women around here. I was talking to old Le Fidler there and he thinks a couple of hero types like us will do very well here. I have to tell you it doesn't hurt my reputation any to let them keep thinking that way. I'm irresistible to them.'

The others heard the tail end of Isaac's comments and came over.

'Master Isaac is quite full of himself,' said Arad. 'Me thinks however there is one amongst us who will forever be in love with Isaac until the day he dies and will permit no other to share him.'

'Oh yeah and who is that?' said Isaac looking hopefully around the room.

'Why Isaac of course.' Arad erupted into a guffaw of laughter along with everyone else and a red faced Isaac stood his ground until he also laughed. 'Well just watch me in action my giant friend,' said Isaac. 'The fairer sex will melt into my arms.'

'Come and show me then master braggart, I suspect the homely ones will do well tonight.'

They left the room heading back to the central mall with Le Carra and Darion waiting behind. Kolin paused in front of them as he left and looked at them with a contented smile on his face.

He took them both by their tiny hands and them very gently.

'Thank you for giving us all our freedom.' His smile widened and he left to follow the others.

'He is a great man,' said Le Carra. 'Along with Wodan maybe the greatest who has ever been,' she looked Darion in the eyes. 'Not counting you of course.' Darion hugged her tightly.

'I suppose you have plenty of work ahead rebuilding a kingdom?' he said.

'Yes I do, but I need you beside me or I can't do it.' He kissed her long and softly and finally their lips parted and he took her by the hand.

'Well lets go home then,' he said and they left the trophy room as the sun shot plumes of yellow onto the only mural to escape the explosion untouched. Kolin the Great greeting a new day, his sword returning to its sheath.

Will a new world dawn?

Jharnell 102/1

The End

